INFECtIOUS (33 page)

"So it was
me. That's what I thought," he says, full of egotistical confidence.

"I didn't
say that!" I punch him in the arm.

"Yeah, you
did," he says smiling. "And who taught you how to punch? That was
weak! We're going to have to work on your defensive skills."

I'm glad my
horrible fighting skills have turned the subject away from my vulnerable
display of emotion that day. I'm not comfortable with him knowing just how
interested I am. He can't know how much I want to be with him. The small amount
of wisdom that I possess warns me to keep my feelings to myself.

When we reach
the bottom of the colossal hill there is another hill rising ahead of us. My
muscles are starting to burn and I'm nervously wondering how long this
"stroll" is going to be. We exchange jokes and sarcasm and
meaningless flirtatious banter while we walk. He has never let go of my hand,
which I am thoroughly enjoying. Now that we're walking up hill, I'm letting him
pull me along. I don't have his stamina. Only part way up the next hill we turn
to the left. Walking down a side road, we enter an old compound of some sort. I
look curiously around and Matt answers my thoughts.

"It's an
old college campus."

"Oh. Why
are we here?"

"You'll
see."

"You're
sure it's safe?"

He just smiles
and pulls me a little closer. It has the necessary affect, banishing my worries
and leaving me reveling in his closeness. We pass empty dark buildings of
different sizes. Each of them seemingly built in different
era's
.
Some buildings look relatively new and some are very old. Most of them have a
plaque or sign, naming them after different people from the college's past.
Probably the names of the rich people who paid to have them built.

Matt weaves
through the buildings, confident of where he's going. After a short walk
through what proved to be a small campus, we stop in front of a decorative iron
gate. It hangs, rusted on its hinges, partway open. Matt leads me between the
tight gap in the open rusty gate and down a path that runs beside a brook that
babbles cheerfully alongside of us. I haven't seen a stream in years; and the
sight of this place, tucked away from the world, is awe inspiring. We are
surrounded by forest on all sides as we follow the shallow, gurgling creek that
flows steadily over rocks and around bends. Ahead, I hear the water getting
louder. I don't really know what to make of it.

Rounding a bend
in the path, we come out into a cove surrounded by cliffs and winter bare
forrest
on all sides. Straight
ahead is the most beautiful waterfall I've ever seen. The grandeur of it takes
my breath away. True, I've never seen any other waterfalls in real life, but
I'm sure this one must be one of the prettiest He made. It's taller than the
tallest trees, reaching up into the blue sky like a skyscraper. White water
falls in long tendrils that weave in and out of each other, racing each other,
until finally splashing down into the gray pool at the bottom. The cliffs on
either side of the majestic falls are
orangy
stone
with gray patterns throughout. Standing still, drinking it in, I have this
wonderful feeling of steadfastness—despite the changing world outside the cove.
The waterfall stands in
it's
place, always moving but never leaving, showing the beauty and power of God's
creation. I've been staring, lost in thoughts of my Creator, when I realize
Matt has disappeared. My eyes sweep over the secluded area anxiously. He
suddenly reappears high on a boulder that juts out near the pool at the base of
the falls. I pick my way around the smaller stones near the bottom and find a
path up to where he sits.

At the top,
another glance around dispels all fear. From this height I can see the entire
cove easily and we are completely alone. I take my mask off and use it for a
pillow as I lay back and look up into the sky far above the falls. We lay there
together, resting and admiring the spectacular view. This is definitely better
than I could've imagined for a second date. The sun is starting to sink and the
first colors of sunset are showing behind the cliff at the top of the falls.
It's not yet dinner time, but the tentacles of evening are already starting to
wrap themselves around the day. The clear blue sky is starting to take on
orangish
hues near the horizon. Tonight's sunset is going
to be beautiful.

The best part of
the date has just begun and I realize with a twinge of sadness that it will be
the shortest part. We shouldn't stay here long. The hike back will take time
and I need to be home before dark. Tim will be bringing Rosa back to me
sometime in the evening. I don't want to think about Tim or how mad he would be
if he knew where I was.

"What do
you do in Atlanta?" I ask. I want to know more about Matt and I'm also
hoping this question will lead to some explanation of the illusive topic that
is Jesse. I've been hoping she is someone he works with, not someone he lives
with. I know how different we are. Nice as he may seem, he doesn't believe the
way I do. He wouldn't see anything wrong with living with Jesse, loving Jesse,
and being on this date with me. I'm desperate for him to not have someone else,
but it's probably foolish of me to hope. I don't think there are many virgin
zombies.

"I'd rather
not talk about that," is all I get.

"You are
the most mysterious zombie I know."

"Zombie?"

Shoot! I sit
straight up. I can't believe I let that slip!
"Oh, yeah,
sorry.
That's what I call you. I mean them!" I'm cringing at my
stupidity and hoping he isn't offended.

"Where did
you come up with that flattering name?"

"Harmony
and I found a movie once, in one of the abandoned apartments in her building.
It scared me to death and—well, I couldn't help but make the comparison. You
know, eating people and rotting body parts—"

"You watch
movies in God Town?"

"Yeah.
The kids mostly.
The adults don't really have time for them.
Do you ever see movies?"

"I remember
some from when I was a kid. But I haven't seen one in years. Of course, I could
watch the, uh, entertainment at the compounds. Those are movies, but not the
kind you'd watch at church."

"Lots
of naked people?"

"Yeah,"
he laughs uncomfortably.

"Yeah,
not my thing."

"Sorry,"
he apologizes awkwardly. I like it that he's uncomfortable talking about it
with me. It proves there's a conscience buried somewhere in that handsome body.

"What do
you do in God Town?" he asks, changing the subject.

I don't love the
title he's given our haven, but I suppose it's less insulting than what I call
him. "I'm a secretary.
And a baker.
And pretty
much anything anyone needs me to be. That's how we work. We all take care of
each other."

"Sounds
nice," is his halfhearted reply. "I help people too.
For a small price.
Pravda isn't interested in the poor, only
the rich have a future in this country. My occupation evens things out a
little."

"So you're
like Zombie Robin Hood?"

He laughs out
loud at this new title, his smile promising me that he likes the connotations
of my new pet name.

"Something
like
that."

We talk and
watch the clouds go by for what I'm sure is too long. The blue sky is
disappearing into dark pinks and purples and the clouds are radiant white with
silver. I need to get back for Rosa. The thought of Tim starting a search party
makes me stand to my feet and stretch.

"Getting
sick of me?" he asks.

"No!"
I spurt out too quickly. "I just have to get back to Rosa."

"And
Tim?" he asks with more sincerity than sarcasm.

I pull my mask
back on before he can read my face. I don't want to feel anything for Tim, but
he has been such an amazing friend. The least I can do is not leave him
standing at the Inn worrying.

Benjamin Franklin Does
Nothing
For
Me

On the way back
up the huge hill I'm finding out just what kind of shape I'm in. Not great. I
can't
talk,
I'm so out of breath. To my surprise,
without my nervous chatter going on and on, Matt tells me more about himself.

"I've
always been responsible for Tom.
Ever since he was born.
Our dad skipped out and mom worked. So Tom was always with me. The day they
gave the shot in school, I was in 6th grade.
Middle school.
But I wasn't in class when they locked the doors. I was hiding in the bathroom,
smoking. It's funny because they told us smoking would kill us but smoking
probably saved my life. I heard gunshots and I knew something bad was
happening. I climbed out the bathroom window and ran the couple blocks to Tom's
school. He was in 1st grade at the elementary school. There were cop cars and
army jeeps everywhere. I
snuck
around and found the
windows to Tom's class. I looked in just as they were holding him down. I
watched them stick a needle in his head while he cried. I banged on the glass
and yelled at them to stop, but then they were coming after me. I ran like four
miles to my mom's work. She called the school but they wouldn't let us go get
him. Said everyone had to ride the bus home like normal. When he got home, he
was so shook up. I felt like it was my fault. I hadn't taken good enough care
of him. Neither of us ever went back to school again. My mom got the shot the
next day at work. She didn't even fight it. I think she did it to show Tom it
would be ok. And she didn't want to get fired. Anyway, she died a couple years
ago. She was real bad with the disease. Infection ended up killing her. I've
been taking care of Tom by myself since then. I found a way to make credits and
help people who can't help themselves at the same time. It's a win-win.

Finally cresting
the top of the huge hill, I get my breath back as Matt is finishing his story.

"I don't
tell very many people that story." he says, making me one of the
privileged few. "So, now you know me."

I have a feeling
that there is still a lot more to know. "So you were smoking in 6th
grade?"

"That's
what you got out of my life story?" he asks in mock surprise. "I was
a tough kid, ok?" He sounds proud of his younger rebellious self.
"When did you try smoking?"

"Never."
I say simply.

"You've
never smoked?"

"Nope.
Never tasted alcohol.
Never tried
drugs."

"You're
kidding me?" His voice is full of disbelief and shock. "Is everyone
in God Town as sheltered as you?"

I shrug. They
wouldn't be in "God Town" if they weren't. He still doesn't get it at
all. How do I explain it?

"Some of
them might have done those things before they got healed, but after you're
healed, you just don't want any of that."

"Don't want
it? Or aren't allowed because your God is a dictator?"

"He's not a
dictator. If He was, we'd all be healed."

"If he was
a dictator, we'd all be better off? That sounds ridiculous, you know that
right?"

"No, it's
just—if He was the boss of everyone, we'd all do exactly what He wanted and
there wouldn't be a disease. The disease is because He lets people make their
own choices." I walk a few steps and then ask him, "If you had the
magical power to make everyone love you, would you feel loved by them? If you
made them love you, would it be love?"

I'm afraid my
question is too confusing, but he seems to follow and answers, "No, they'd
be slaves."

"Exactly.
If God made
everyone love Him, it would be pointless. He wants us to love Him because we
want to. Does that make sense?"

"Parts
of it.
But I can't believe in God, Ivy. If there was a
"God"—he makes air quotes with his fingers again—up there watching
us, He wouldn't let people suffer like this. I've seen people eat babies, Ivy.
I've seen drug addicts rape little girls and then kill them. There is just too
much crap out there to believe what you're selling.
An all
powerful God who made everyone and loves everyone who sat there and let it all
turn to crap.
I'm sorry. I just can't buy that. How
is
he loving
that little girl who got raped and killed? Who had no way to
protect herself? Tell me, please, I'm all ears."

"We brought
this on ourselves, Matt. He made the world perfect and people chose to
sin."

"Come on,
Ivy," he sounds so disgusted with me. "The "Eve Ate
An
Apple" story? That's supposed to explain all
this?"

"I know it
sounds—hard to believe, but that's why it's called faith, Matt. I can't
understand how you can see me, the Living proof, and not believe. I believe in
God and I'm healed. How is that confusing?"

"So if I
just say, "I believe in God" this nightmare just gets all
better?"

"No, you
have to do more than believe."

"I knew
there'd be a catch. There always is."

"I'm not
trying to sell you a car, Matt. This is important!"

"Calm down,
Ivy." He is trying to be congenial. "We're just having a friendly
hypothetical conversation. Ok, so what else do I have to do other than believe?
Swear myself to the church or something?"

"Ugh. You
are so exasperating. Do you think the devil believes in God?"

"I don't
believe in the devil. People are evil all by themselves."

"Now
THAT makes no sense.
Your reason for not believing in God is all the evil in the
world. You think that a good God can't exist if there is so much bad. So, how
can you not believe in the one who makes all the evil? It's easy to see him
everywhere!"

"Fine, I'll
pretend for the moment that you've won that point and I'll say I believe in
Satan. What of it. I don't worship Satan."

"My
question was, if both God and the devil exist, does the devil believe in
God?"

"Can we be
done with this discussion yet?"

"The Bible
says that the demons believe in God and they are terrified of Him. So, is
belief enough to have God's favor?"

"I guess
not."

"Exactly!"
I'm hoping he's
starting to get it. "I believe that Benjamin Franklin was a real person. I
believe he invented electricity. But Benjamin Franklin doesn't know me or have
anything to do with my life today. You can believe in something without being
intimately connected to it."

"I'd like
to be intimately connected to you." He says pulling me closer to
him—trying to fluster me and change the subject.

Our argument has
been going on while we walk and we are almost back to the house. As we turn the
last bend in the road we are suddenly within yards of a huge crowd of zombies.