INFECtIOUS (28 page)

The Exact Opposite
Of
Wisdom

I can't help but
glance all around as we walk down the street. I'm not supposed to be out of the
house and I'm walking with a zombie. If anyone saw us, I'd be in a lot of
trouble. What can they really do to me though? I'm on my own now. I can make my
own choices. I guess they could ask me to leave the community, but I doubt they
would. Besides, I'm already strongly considering that. If it weren't for Rosa,
I might have left already. Without Aunty, what do I have here? I feel like I'm
supposed to do something more with my life. I can't stand to sit here and wait
for Pravda to come for me. The particulars of where I'll live and how I'll
support myself and Rosa can come later.

"You're
awfully quiet."

"My Aunt just
died. You're awfully unaware of what a big deal that is." I'm angry at his
self-centered lack of concern. Tim was so— No, I'm not going to compare them.

"People
die," he says with a shrug. "You're the one who's unaware. If death
is that big of a deal to you, you haven't been living in reality. You're going
to have to get tougher if you're going to come with us."

"Come with
you? Come with
who
? What are you talking about? I
thought this was
just
 
you
and me going for a walk?"

"Right now
it is."

"I'm not
going anywhere with you."

"Decided to
stay and have a fairytale with Tim?" he asks mockingly.

I stop walking
and glare at him. What does he know about Tim?

"I had
Lover Boy as my only company for days while they had me locked up.
Wanna
guess what he talked about ALL day long?" He
pauses and then answers his own question, "You."

I make a
disgusted sound and resume walking in the direction he had been taking me.
Towards Thomas' house.
I knew the hole was somewhere near
there.

"Ivy this
and Ivy that. Ivy is so kind. Ivy's so amazing. Ivy's so beautiful. Jeez. He's
a nice guy but I don't think he knows you very well."

"What's
that supposed to mean?" I stop walking again. "If you don't think I'm
nice then why are we walking?"

"I think I
saw the real you."

"Which
is?"

"When you
first met me you were dying to use that little
taser
of yours. You weren't willing to trust me. That was smart. You can't trust
anyone. You wouldn't have had me stay at the Inn that night. Also smart. These
people are naive, Ivy. Dumb. They won't last long and I think you have spunk. I
think you have what it takes to survive. I respect that." And then he
adds, "But I do agree with Tim that you are beautiful. So we have that in
common."

I blush,
slightly less irritated at him now, but not at all happy about the rest of his
assessment. Aside from my looks—which let's face it, isn't much of a compliment
because any healthy girl would look good to someone who normally hangs out with
zombies—he likes everything about all the bad attitudes I had and he thinks
those are the real me. Technically, they are the real me. But I want to
Live
above myself. I will do whatever it takes to deny the
real me and not let her out again.

"Didn't you
read my apology letter? That was the real me. I was awful to you in the
beginning and it was wrong. I really meant how sorry I was."

"So did you
give Thomas the glove yet?"

He has an
irritating habit of changing the subject whenever you try to talk about
anything serious with him. I am starting to realize that there is more to
loving someone than the admiration I felt for him that day at Thomas' house.
Just because I saw good in him and it genuinely impressed me, doesn't mean he's
right for me. Sure he's handsome and exciting and funny and smart and—where was
I again?

"No, I
haven't seen Thomas since the day you left. I'm not supposed to leave the
house. Then everything else happened."

"Think you
could go in and check on him for me?"

I look at him
like he's crazy.

"We're
going right by there," he says. "I'd go in and check myself but I
don't want to set the alarms blaring." He nods upward towards the high
fence just coming into view in the distance.

He's right, we
do have alarms. They are spread out periodically at the top of the fence all
around the compound. But they don't sound over unwanted houseguests or
burglars. They are only for something big like an invasion. They only go off if
a whole section of the fence goes down. They've never been used. To be real
honest, I'm not even sure if they work.

When I don't say
anything, Matt steps in front of me, stopping me, and looks into my face with
those sparkling emerald eyes. "Please Ivy. I need to know how he is. I
thought I could keep him safe and I almost lost him. He's everything to me. I
know you know how that feels. I really am sorry about your Aunt. She was a good
person. I understand why you miss her so much."

"Why
the change of tone?
Are you just trying to manipulate me or something? A second ago
'people die, end of story,'" I say in a dumb macho voice.

"I need you
to check on him for me!" his manipulative smile slips and I see the
frustration behind it. "Please Ivy?
If you care about me
at all?"

So there it is.
He's basically asking me if I care.

And I do.

So I will.

"Ok. What
do you want me to tell
him.
"

"Tell him I
said 'hi'. But more importantly I need to know how he is. Is he healing? Is he
walking?
That kind of stuff."

"Just
'hi'?"
I ask with renewed suspicion about his motives. It sounds like
I'm more spy than messenger. "You aren't trying to take him again are you?
Because that didn't work!"

"Ivy, I
promise you, I wouldn't take him from somewhere that's safe for him. I don't
want to see him in danger ever again. I want him here for as long as he wants
to stay."

"You
promise?"

"I
promise." He looks me in the eyes and I see sincerity in his.

But I'm not
dumb. I heard how carefully worded that was. He doesn't think we'll always be
safe here. It's starting to be a recurring theme.

At Jose and
Ellen's house, I knock on the door. Ellen has stayed home from the morning
meeting to care for Thomas, as I expected. She looks puzzled to see me, but
invites me right in. "Are you allowed to leave the Inn now, Ivy? Have they
figured out what happened to you?

"No, we
don't know anything new. I just needed some air and I wanted to see
Thomas." I pause when she frowns and then I tell her the rest, "Aunty
died last night."

Ellen gasps and
leans back against the kitchen wall.
"Oh Ivy.
I'm
so sorry. How did it happen so fast? I knew she was sick, but I just saw her
the other day. She thought she had more time."

I don't say
anything. I wonder how many people knew Aunty was dying.
Because
I didn't.
She waited so long to tell me and then there was no time. I
treated her terribly after the attack in Commerce, left her alone. I am
thankful that God helped me fix it at the end, but it wasn't enough time. We
should've had more time to talk about everything. I would've thanked her so
much more for all her sacrifice. I would've asked her what I should do with
myself when she was gone.
Where I should go.
There is
so much that was left unsaid.

Ellen gives me a
long hug and tells me I'm always welcome there. Then she takes me to Thomas'
room. I'm thankful when she doesn't follow me in. I wouldn't have been able to
relay Matt's greeting if she was there.

Thomas is
propped up against fluffy white pillows on his bed. He has a notebook and
pencil and he's trying to draw with his left hand. His right hand and arm are
tucked inside a big sling around his neck. He has stitches on his cheek and on
his head. His new glasses are scratched on one side and look like they've been
taped together. His head has been shaved so the wounds are dark and noticeable.
I know from what Aunty told me that he has even more wounds that are hidden by
clothes and bed covers.
The black spot on his forehead stands
out now without his cherubic curls to hide it.
It's the most tragic mark
on him, the other wounds will heal with time but the black spot will never
fade.

"Ivy!"
he exclaims as I walk into the room. "You came!"

"Hey kid.
You look great," I lie, trying to be nonchalant and light hearted. In
truth, seeing him so hurt makes me really upset.

"I'm
getting better," he says enthusiastically. "I've been asking mom if
you could
come
visit and she said you were really
busy."

"Yeah.
They've been
keeping me busy." I don't know if I can keep up the peppy tone of the
conversation. I suddenly don't want to tell Thomas about Aunty. That was my
excuse coming in here, but this kid has been through so much. And he keeps
smiling. No wonder Matt loves him so much. I don't want to give him anything
else to be sad about. So I say, "Everything is going real good. I just
finally got a break to come see how you're doing. Are you in a lot of pain?"

"It's not
too bad," he says bravely. I think we're both lying to each other.

"Are you
riding your bike and running circles around Jose yet?"

"
Naw
," he looks embarrassed, "I can't walk much
yet. Mom wants me to stay in bed and get better. I am practicing writing with
my left hand though. I'll be back to my school work soon!"

"You're
awesome, Tom," I say, realizing belatedly that I've called him
"Tom" instead of Thomas, just like Matt—and Thomas notices it too.

"Matt
hasn't come to see me," he whispers with obvious sadness showing on his
innocent face. "Did he leave? Mom and Jose won't tell me."

I wink at him
and say, "I have a sneaking suspicion that he's never too far away from
you." Looking over my shoulder to be sure that Ellen isn't near the room,
I lean in close and whisper, "Can you keep a secret?"

He nods
excitedly.

"Matt says
'Hi'."

He smiles a
toothy grin, happy to know that his big brother is still out there. I lean the
rest of the way towards him and give him a quick hug. I can tell he'd like to
ask me a million questions; so I make up a reason that I have to be going and
say my goodbyes to him and Ellen.

I meet Matt
right up the road, where he is, once again, in the bushes.

"It's
starting to feel normal to find you hiding in
someones
shrubs. And I don't think that's a good normal."

"Just
keeping a low profile," he winks, stepping back out to join me on the
road. "So, how is he?"

While we walk, I
recount my short visit and he listens quietly. I feel bad for him. The weight
of his guilt over Thomas' terrible injuries pulls his typical half-smile into a
solid frown. Matt turns abruptly off of the road and into an overgrown
backyard. I don't remember if anyone lives in the little house on this
property. The shaggy lawn doesn't mean
anything,
lawnmowers went extinct shortly after Better Homes and Gardens magazine went
out of print.

Matt motions for
me to follow him. He bends down and pushes an old piece of rotten plywood off
to the side, revealing a well in the ground. Bending down to look closer, I see
that it isn't a well at all. It's an old sewer pipe entrance. Matt drops down
into the hole and disappears.

"Coming?"
he calls up to me.

I have serious
misgivings about this. I shouldn't even be walking the relatively safe streets
of our community with Matt. And I should not, under any circumstances, go down
into this hole with that boy alone. I should walk myself straight back home and
report this to Captain Markowitz. This information might even buy me my freedom
and reestablish trust with the rest of the community. He pops his head back up
through the hole in the ground and smiles that crooked smile at me.