Jacqueline Druga - No Man's Land

“If you think she remembers you, then that it isn’t right what you’re doing.”

“You mean not putting her down?” I asked.

“No, letting her walk around like that. Calvin, she’s naked from the waist down.”

“I know she’s naked from the waist down, she died after giving birth.”

“It’s your wife. Don’t you care that people see her like that?”

I stopped for a second. “Are you serious?”

“I mean, what would she say if she knew you let her walk around all exposed? I know I’d be mad. I feel bad for her.”

Shaking my head, I walked again. “Hannah, what do you want me to do?”

“Put some clothes on her.”

I laughed. “Yeah, right away. I’ll just stop, walk up to her, ask her to sit down while I put a pair of pants on her.”

“Now’s the time. She just had Curt so she’ll be calm. She won’t try to bite you.”

“Hannah…”

“It don’t need to be pants. It can be a dress. Nothing fancy. Be easy to put on her. Toss it over her head. We can find one of those dresses like my grandma used to wear to cover her big boobs and belly. Big old flowery thing that floats in the wind and shows her legs. Anything. We’ll find something. But for goodness sakes, Calvin, cover up her womanhood.”

I believe I actually snorted a laugh at that remark. “Womanhood? Okay, if we see one of those big old flowery things that float in the wind, I’ll put it on her.”

“Do it before she’s hungry again.”

“I can’t believe how much this is bothering you.”

“It does,” she replied. “’Cause I’m a girl. Girls are private about those things. You don’t think about it because boys aren’t private. I mean they just whip it out to piss on a tree. No shame.”

“Oh my God.”

“And it’s sad, Calvin, it’s just really sad. Look at her.”

“I did.”

“She keeps on trudging. And every time I look, things keep fallin’ out of her lady parts…”

“Jesus, Hannah.” I stopped and brought my hand to my face.

“What? They do. What do you suppose it is?”

“I don’t know and… can we… not talk about things falling out of her lady parts.”

“Okay. I just thought you’d want to know.”

“Thank you for that.”

“Come to think about it. Pants wouldn’t be all that good. You wouldn’t want to be putting them on her when she releases…”

“Hannah!” I barked her name. “Please. Just… talk about something else.”

“Okay.” She went silent for a few seconds as we walked, then she started rambling on again about Curt.

A part of me wondered if things did bother her and her lackadaisical manner of talking about them, was her own therapy.

There was a lot about Hannah I still had to learn. One thing I was sure of, she liked to talk… a lot. Even though she made me cringe and drove me a little nuts at times, for the most part, I was glad she was taking the journey with me.

The shortest distance between two points was indeed a straight line, one that we could have taken. However, since cutting through trees and over farms was not an option with the wagon we stayed on the paved road.

Avoiding the main highway, we took secondary roads that the map showed ran perpendicular to the highway. The black top was a lot easier on our feet. Eventually it would cross the interstate, however, we could pick it up again.

There were more options for shelter plus we didn’t see another soul.

People were as dangerous as the Vee.

“You think people live in some of these places, still?” Hannah asked. “I mean, it’s way out here. No sick people. There were cows back there, did you see?’

“I did. When you picked those apples.”

“They were ripe. Falling from the tree. I had to. Didn’t want them to go to waste. Want one?” She held it up for me.

“After being beat up, my teeth couldn’t bite into that.”

“Want me to cut it for you? I have a knife. Sharp one, too.”

“No, and why do you have a knife.”

“Just in case.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. I don’t know why I asked. Are you’re sure you’re only ten?”

“You do that on purpose. You know I’m gonna be twelve.”

“You just act and look older.”

“I may look older. That’s because I’m the tallest kid in my grade, but you only think I act older because you don’t know kids too good.”

“That’s true. For what it’s worth, I think you’re very brave for all you’ve been through and doing it on your own.”

“I’m not on my own.”

“Before.”

“I didn’t want to be alone. Just didn’t have a choice,” she said. “Why you being all nice to me?”

“I’m making conversation and I’m always nice to you.”

She snickered. “I can talk about Curt.”

“No.”

“I could talk about how we walked a hundred miles and you still ain’t got pants on Leah.”

“We only walked ten. Start looking for a place.”

“That’s why I asked that question about people still living in their houses. Maybe people are home and we can’t just go in their houses.”

“Then we’ll walk.”

“There’s a house up there.” She pointed.

I looked. In the distance, back from the road was a yellow two-story house. I thought I spotted a fence but I wasn’t sure.

“They have a stable. Maybe they have a horse,” Hannah said.

“Are you going to tell me you ride, too?”

“Don’t everyone.”

“No, but that’s one thing I do know, I know horses.”

“You ride?” she asked.

“No, did I say I ride? I said I know them. From the track. I used to bet on them.”

“For a guy who likes math, you’re really funny.”

“I did used to tell good jokes.”

“Oh, tell me one.”

“Okay, let me think.” I walked, trying my hardest to recollect a good joke she would understand. “Alright, I have one. Why did the…” I paused when I saw them. My voice dropped. “Expired Vee?”

“I think something is missing there, Calvin. Why did the expired Vee, what?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Expired Vee in the middle of the road.”

“Why are there expired Vee in the middle of the road?”

“Yeah.”

“Um, because they couldn’t get to the other side?”

“Huh?”

“Your joke, is that the punchline? ’Cause Cal, it ain’t very funny. Might be too soon to tell Vee jokes.”

“No. No. It’s not a joke. Up there.” I showed her. “Four of them.”

“You think they’re them?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“How can you tell from this far?”

“Their position.”

It was hard to explain to her what I meant. When I was Hannah’s age, the house four doors down caught on fire. Four people lived in the house and I watched it, like everyone else, as it burned to the ground despite the best efforts of the fire department. When it was done and the flames put out, they sorted through the rubble and uncovered the bodies.

Their arms and legs were bent up and inward as if the muscles retracted, hands slightly reaching, fingers bent. Their mouths wide open, probably from gasping for their last bit of air. Like the ash people in the photos from Pompeii. Burned, yet frozen in that pose.

The man in the beer distributor had that pose. Even at a distance, I could see the four on the road did as well.

Only they weren’t burnt.

When I neared them, I examined each one visually, their skin had pruned and even outside, there were very few flies.

“What happened to them?” Hannah asked.

“They just dropped. Expired as I call it.”

“None of them shot?”

“Nope. Doesn’t look like it, and they weren’t bitten.”