Scott Mackay - Phytosphere

“No, we’re here.”

“I guess you would be,” said Buzz, “with Gerry stuck up on the Moon and all.”

“Matter of fact,” said the sheriff, “I’m glad you’re here. Gives us a chance to tell you about the changes we’ve been making.”

“Changes? What changes?”

“I wish they’d at least get radio up and running again,” said Maynard. “Me and Buzz have been doing a lot of door-to-door. And I’m getting a bit tired of it. Mind if we step inside?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

“Now, Glenda, you got to learn to trust the sheriff. It wasn’t your fault that I had to throw your husband in the drunk tank so often. I was only trying to help him.”

“You insulted him repeatedly. You made passes at me. And now you think I’m supposed to trust you, Maynard?”

“Oh, come on, Glenda,” said the sheriff. “Gerry can take a little kidding. That’s all it ever was. And you should be thanking us for coming round. We thought you’d be in Marblehill. Why ain’t you down there?

That’s where I’d be if I had half a chance. Buzz here tells me it’s quite a place. Huge. With a pool and tennis courts.”

“My husband’s decision to take Buzz down there three years ago was a mistake. Buzz, you were a bad influence on him.”

Buzz frowned. “He was a bad influence on his own self. He was the one doing all the drinking.”

“He embarrassed himself in front of his brother, his sister-in-law, and their kids. All because you were there to egg him on.”

“Let’s not dig up old dirt,” said the sheriff, breaking in. “We’re just here to check up on you, Glenda, that’s all. Because… truth be told, it’s getting harder to keep the peace in Wake County. I’ve had to deputize some of the boys, Buzz here included. Lot of people don’t know what’s going on, what with radio and TV being down. So I might as well tell you; we’re more or less on our own in Old Hill. Court’s been closed down. All the stores have been closed down. And because of this Western Secessionist thing, the delivery of emergency food supplies has been reduced to a trickle. Mayor’s gone away, we’re not sure where. Fire department’s gone AWOL. And I don’t mean to alarm you, but there have been a lot of home invasions in this area lately. The murder rate has climbed a bit. And it’s not because of the criminal element. People are trying to find enough food.” He glanced over at Leigh’s house. “How’s your neighbor? He bothering you at all?”

“Why would he bother me?”

“Pretty woman like yourself… Everyone knows about you and Leigh.”

“I resent that. There’s nothing between us. I’m a happily married woman.”

“Only your drunk of a husband has run off to the Moon.”

“Maynard, this is why I don’t respect you.”

Maynard’s face settled. “Well, Glenda, I think you better start respecting me soon. Because I’m the only one around here who can protect you. You’re a target, you realize that, don’t you? With law and order breaking down—and believe me, I’m doing my best to keep the peace—but with law and order breaking down, a lot of desperate young men, they find a pretty woman like you, and they realize they have nothing to lose, and they may want to have their way with you. So you’ve got to realize that you need a sheriff more than you ever have before. I don’t have to keep sheriffing. I’m doing it because I feel a responsibility to the people of Wake County. Lot of people want a sheriff around. Only we’re not getting any support out of Raleigh anymore. The chief is telling us we can walk if we want to, especially with the food situation getting so bad, and us having to look after our own families, but I feel it’s my civic responsibility to stay on.”

“Aren’t you noble?”

He shook his head. “Why do I even try with you, Glenda? In any case, the nature of my job has changed. The Wake County Sheriff’s Department has undergone a… a…” He scratched his head. “What would you call it, Buzz? A restructuring, I guess? Folks understand they need a sheriff, and I do what I can for the Old Hill area, only, like I say, we’ve got no support from Raleigh—no food, no nothing—so if people want a sheriff’s department, they got to contribute. My officers need food. If you’ve got any extra food around—or maybe old Gerry has a couple stray bottles of bourbon.”

“There’s no alcohol in the house.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t get so defensive.”

“And we don’t have any food. We’re starving like everybody else.”

“Then you know… there are other ways a pretty young woman like yourself can contribute.”

And here it was, what she knew he was going to get around to sooner or later—and Buzz, oddly, looking away, as if he were embarrassed by it but nonetheless willing to tolerate it.

“Get off my property, Maynard.”

“It just comes down to a question of whether you want my protection or not. We got Tammy and her kids in the cruiser. Her house burned down and she has nowhere else to go. Denny is God knows where.

A few days ago we asked her for food, but she didn’t want to give us any, and now her house burned down, because, you know, we can’t protect everyone; just the people who are willing to cooperate with us. Wouldn’t it be a shame if your house burned down too?”

Her insides shriveled in fear as she understood the game he was playing. “Maynard…please…I’ve got no food. And for God’s sake, I’m a married woman.”

“That ain’t stopping Tammy. She knows what she has to do to survive.”

“Please… just go.”

“You think about it, Mrs. Thorndike. Your situation’s similar to Tammy’s. You don’t have your husband around to protect you. You have only the sheriff.”

At work a few days later, Glenda pushed a food cart down the hall. The cart had stale tea biscuits on it, and an urn full of weak tea. The place stunk. The cleaning staff didn’t come anymore. It was only her and Whit trying to keep the place running. She lifted a biscuit and shoved it into her mouth. The place was dark and she had to wheel the cart down the hall using a flashlight. She saw another flashlight up ahead.

Her own beam sketched out Whit’s tall figure.

As Whit reached her, he said, “Mrs. Waters is dead.”

“Do you need help moving her?”

“It’s already done. Help yourself to another biscuit. And take a few for your kids.” Whit shook his head.

“I don’t know how much longer we can stay on, Glenda. There’s not much we can do.”

“So only twenty-seven residents left now?”

“Twenty-six.”

“And you’ve tried contacting their loved ones?”

He didn’t answer. In fact, he switched to another topic entirely, one he had grown obsessed with over the last couple of days. “I’m afraid those kids might come back. One of them has a gun.”

“If you have to defend yourself… I mean, if they give you no choice…”

“Why are they coming here anyway?”

Glenda shrugged. “I guess they think we have food.”

He motioned at the tea biscuits. “You call that food?”

“I wonder where their parents are?”

Whit reached in his pocket. “Take the keys to the dispensary. We’ve got asthma drugs in there.”

She was elated by the offer because she had thought often about the Cedarvale dispensary. She took the keys, shoved them in her nursing uniform pocket, stood on her toes, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thanks, Whit.”

“Haven’t been in touch with my family for years,” he said. “I have a brother in Detroit. Maybe I’ll head up there.”

So. There it was. The inevitable. “That’s it? I don’t have to come anymore?”

He looked away. “I appreciate you hanging on as long as you have.”