Emmy Laybourne - Savage Drift

Astrid was sorting through some of the things in the car. She had set out on the parking lot the fan, the box of dishes, the houseplant, and other stuff she obviously thought we didn’t need. Rinée was busy digging with a spoon in the dirt of the houseplant, slowly scooping it all out onto the asphalt and patting it with the back of the spoon.

“Dean,” Jake said, getting up to his feet. “I’m a jerk. I’m an a-hole. You have to forgive me.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I can see how it happened. Let’s just forget it.”

I went over to Astrid.

“You’re okay? You sure?” Astrid asked me quietly. “I’m so mad at him.”

“You know what? I’ve been acting like a jealous idiot. I’m sorry,” I told her. “I’m better now.”

Astrid looked relieved. Maybe even a little bit impressed.

I clapped my hands.

“Let’s get this baby back to her daddy.”

Rinée looked up and clapped her little hands, echoing me.

Astrid hugged Niko for a good, long time when we said good-bye.

Jake shook hands with him.

I swept him into a big hug.

We all promised we’d see each other soon. God, how I hoped that would be true.

Then I drove and Jake rode shotgun.

Astrid and the little girl slept together in the backseat, which was much more spacious now that Astrid had thrown everything out.

For dinner we had protein shakes.

There had been exactly $217 between all of us. We’d split it down the middle—half for Niko and half for us. It felt like Niko should get more, since we were taking the car, but he insisted on the split.

We wanted to make our $108 last as far as we could.

We had had to get gas at the station. That had been weird.

The attendant had to call into an 800 number. He made me give my social security number to a crabby lady, who then informed the attendant that my credits for the week had already been used.

The attendant looked at me like I was dirty.

Someone had hacked my account and had used all my credits and I got treated like scum.

Jake’s account, with his luck, was completely untouched.

The guy gave us the full measure of Jake’s available gas credits, which was about a half a tank.

That would get us back to Vinita and then some.

“Hey,” Jake said to me in the car. “Remember that time we got high? Back at the store?”

“Yeah,” I said. “That was pretty fun.”

“Man, what I wouldn’t give for a couple of Obezine now, right?”

“I guess.”

“If we were settled. You know, safe,” Jake said.

“I know.”

I knew he was aching for another swig of that whisky bottle. Astrid had tucked it into the trunk. I’d seen her do it and I watched Jake see her do it, too.

But instead of thinking about what an addict he was, and getting myself all worked up, I just let Jake be Jake.

The sun went down and the road got dark.

After a while Jake fell asleep.

I’d driven for about an hour when I realized something.

I woke up Astrid.

“Guys, if we go back there now, we won’t know who’s there. We won’t be able to see. The O guy could still be out.”

“What do you want to do?” Astrid asked me.

“I think we should find somewhere to pull over and sleep in the car.”

“Okay,” she said, yawning.

I pulled off at the next exit and we were on a country highway. Fields of corn razed to a knee-high stubble on either side. The land was flat—really flat.

I wanted a sort of hidden place to put the car. Some tall windbreak trees surrounded a small farm up the road. But I didn’t want to go too close to someone’s house. They’d think we were up to something.

I wasn’t quite sure where to go.

Everyone in the car was asleep.

I just drove for a bit. Eventually I saw a farm and then, a little ways down from the farm, a dirt road that seemed to be some kind of access road. There were some trees there.

I turned down the road and parked the car on grass, between two pine trees.

Through this, no one woke up.

All three of them were exhausted—one from being drunk, one from being pregnant, one from being locked in a trunk for four hours. Thank God Astrid had heard the baby when she did.

I got out.

The air was completely still.

I took my suit and mask, just to be safe. I was pretty sure the warning whistle would give me enough time to gear up.

A hoot owl was calling and the scent of pine was really strong in the cool air.

Sometimes, for a moment, your senses could spin your brain a story. You could forget about the disasters and just smell the crisp country air for a moment.

I sat against one of the large trees.

A few minutes later, Astrid came to me.

“You think the air’s okay?” she asked me.

I held up my face mask. “Just to be safe.”

She got hers from the backseat and then came to sit next to me.

“Is Rinée all right—,” I asked and she stopped me talking with a kiss.

The moon was up and her hands were on my face, and she kissed me gently. An apology of a kiss.

I drank in the sight of her big eyes, her rose-colored lips, that hollow at the base of her throat.

“You were really great with her today,” Astrid said to me.

“You feeling okay?” I asked. “Any cramps?”

She shook her head.

“I’m a little tired, is all.”

She leaned against me and we looked up at the nighttime sky.

“Remember when you said ‘it’s a real baby,’ when we were looking at the ultrasound?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“I feel like that all the time. I can’t believe I have a real baby growing inside me. Under my skin! A little human being! And it’s going to come out and I’ll be a real mother. It’s surreal.”

“You’re gonna be a great mom,” I said, sounding like a cliché.

“Pah, who knows!” She laughed. “But you’re going to be a great dad.”

I closed my eyes.

She thought of us as a family. She did.

I needed to let it sink in, so I’d remember it the next time Jake drove me berserk.

“Got any more names in mind?”

Astrid wouldn’t let me or Jake or anyone know about the names she was picking out for the baby.

“Ferdinand, if it’s a boy,” she said, straight faced. “Or maybe Algernon.”

“That’s nice. Call him Algae for short.”

We laughed together, under a canopy of pine branches and above them, the stars.

I try to get the little kids to go to the skinny mother’s room but they refuse.

“We can fight,” Freddy tells me, bouncing on his toes. “We’re O, like you.”

“You’re not O like me,” I say. “I hope you’ll never be O like me.”

“Well, you’re one of us and we protect our own,” he insists. “We stick together.”

“Yeah, I guess we do,” I tell him. I ruffle his hair.

We start piling furniture against the door.

First we put the big single bed against the door. It is made of wood and heavier than the bunk beds, which are just metal.

Then we pile the bureaus on it.

Like all the doubles, we have two bureaus. Identical, made of particleboard with birch veneer. Both basically empty—none of us even have a change of clothes.

There is one old pair of men’s shoes rattling around in the bottom drawer of one of them. Mario is saving them to barter in case things got bad, food-wise.

There are also a dozen sugar packets in there, and a salt shaker he had lifted from Plaza 900 our first day there. Those could be used for barter, too.