Zombies in Paradise (Love in the Age of Zombies Book 2) (11 page)

Michelle listened for a few seconds and called out “Could we try again? That’s a bit too blue for me today!” The music stopped and a few minutes later Bob Dylan’s
Highway 61 Revisited
began to play. Doc came into the bathroom and Michelle pointed to the heap of clothes on the shower stall floor. “All of these have to be wrung out and then hung to dry. It’s a real pain.”

“Is that a toilet plunger washing tub? We had one of those at my cabin in case the power went out—which it did on more than one occasion. It’s a pretty efficient system. Did Kevin drill holes in the plunger?”

“No, why would he do that?”

“To reduce resistance. Where’s his toolkit?” Michelle directed him to Kevin’s tools, and a few minutes later Doc was drilling small holes into the head of the plunger. When he was finished he filled the bucket with water then poked the toilet plunger handle through the lid of the bucket and handed it to Michelle. She put it atop the bucket and began pumping the handle again. Her eyes opened wide.

“This is so much easier! Dang!”

“I’ll have to figure out a way to make wringing easier, too,” Doc suggested. “Kevin’s a very bright guy, but he’s not exactly a handyman or a hunter, eh?”

Michelle laughed for a moment. “You got that right! He’s not exactly a
man’s man
kind of guy. Thank God.”

“That’s part of the reason I like him so much. He’s quite able to accomplish anything he wants to, but he doesn’t come across as some macho bull-shitter. He ignores his accomplishments and focuses perhaps too much on his failures,” Doc finished.

Just like me,
Michelle thought. All this talk about Kevin wasn’t helping her mood.
At least we’re still talking about him in the present tense!
she thought soberly.

They spent a half-hour wringing the clothes. Michelle was glad to have Doc’s help. He was every bit as strong as Kevin despite their age difference. Once they finished Michelle suggested a coffee break and Doc agreed. They went into the kitchen for a quick snack. Michelle had peanut butter on crackers while Doc just dipped a spoon into the jar and ate the peanut butter straight. Michelle said she was tired and they agreed to take a break.

While Doc went into the living room to read the liner notes to the Dylan CD, Michelle went into the bedroom and took an afternoon nap, unusual for her. When she awoke, she drank a glass of water she kept on the lampstand. Then she pulled the poetry chapbook Kevin had written from her lampstand’s top drawer.

As she lay there reading, Doc appeared in the doorway. “I thought I heard you stirring. How are you doing?”

“I’m reading a book of poetry Kevin wrote for me,” she said softly.

“May I?” Doc said as he strode to the bedside and gently took the book from her. He read a few poems and said, “He’s a good writer.” He paused. “I’d like to ask you something. Do you think you would have noticed Kevin if fate hadn’t thrown you together?”

Michelle thought it over, then said, “I’d like to say yes, I would have, but to be honest I’m not sure. He has a quiet attractiveness that’s easy to overlook.”

Doc nodded. “It’s good to see a happy couple. I’m glad for you.”

They puttered around for a while—Michelle dusted while Doc started organizing the supply room. They both kept to themselves for a few hours, then Doc announced he was getting hungry and offered to make dinner. He made a tuna/quinoa/cilantro salad which Michelle loved but Doc was lukewarm about. Doc told Michelle a few hunting stories and she told a few of her father’s stories. All the while she was acutely aware of Kevin’s absence.

When they were finished, Michelle cleaned up the few dishes they used for dinner. Doc sat on the sofa in the living room, sketching out his plans for a possible garden next door. Michelle was feeling very downhearted and struggled to control her emotions. Tears were near the surface and threatened to spill over at any moment.
Get ahold of yourself, girl!
she thought.
It’s not like he’s dead!
At that thought, the dam broke and she burst into tears.

Doc heard her begin to cry and was not surprised. He had felt it coming since Kevin pulled out of the driveway. He put down his paper and pencil and went to her in the kitchen, feeling fatherly affection. Putting his arm around her, he said “Now, now, it’s okay. He knows you love him. He knows you’re just scared. He’ll only be gone for a few days.” Michelle buried her head in his chest, unable to stop crying. She allowed herself the luxury of losing control for only a few seconds before taking a deep breath and straightening back up.

Wiping her cheeks dry, she said, “I know. I just miss him. We’ve been together every day since the Collapse and almost every night,” she said, beginning to sniffle. “I feel like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich without the jelly. Nothing feels right.”

As he patted her on the shoulder, Doc said “I must admit I envy you two. I haven’t been in love for many years. I may never have been in love like you two. It’s been so long, I honestly don’t remember. This little time apart will do you good. It’ll make being together even better. It will make you stronger.”

“Why do things that are good for us feel so bad? It sucks,” she complained with a long sigh. “I’m okay. I just lost it for a minute. There’s not a lot here to distract me.”

“I’ll tell you what, why don’t we go upstairs? If the yard is clear of zombies maybe we can take a short walk. You really should be getting some exercise, you know. The baby is going to take quite a toll on your body over the next few months. The healthier you are the less likely you are to have any complications.”

“I don’t know, Doc. I don’t really feel like dealing with zombies right now.”

“We’ll check for them first. Maybe we’ll just get some fresh air for a few minutes. It’s probably close to sunset. We can watch the stars come out and you can tell me more about your father.” Michelle reluctantly agreed and wiped her hands on a dishtowel before grabbing a sweater from the closet, then they headed upstairs.

Doc looked outside the through the small peep holes Kevin had placed in the windows. There were a few zombies milling about, both in the street and in some of the yards. “Unfortunately, it appears a walk around the neighborhood is out of the question,” he told Michelle. “However, the back of the house next door—I keep forgetting it’s your old house—is fenced in. We could walk around the yard, provided we securely close the gate behind us. And I’ll take my rifle just in case a few zombies show up. What do you say? I was thinking it might be a good spot for a garden anyway and wanted to check it out.”

Michelle could think of any number of excuses not to go outside, but none of them seemed genuine. And the truth was, after spending nearly all her time stuck down in the basement of their home she was ready for a change of scenery and some fresh air. She waited upstairs while Doc went back down to get his gun. Once he was ready to go, they stepped outside and quickly crossed the side yard and through the gate, closing it behind them. “Of course, we want to be as quiet as possible, otherwise we’re likely to attract zombies and who knows what else,” Doc reminded her in a low voice. “But I think it’s safe to have quiet conversation. Let’s see how many laps we can take around the back yard while it’s still light.”

They slowly walked the perimeter of the yard. The back deck had peony bushes growing around it, and they were in full bloom. “Look, how beautiful!” Michelle exclaimed, reaching out and cupping the pink blossoms. “Remind me to take some inside when we’re finished!” They walked past the abundant blooms and across the back of her house. “The hosta is coming along nicely! I’ve never lived here in the spring, I wasn’t sure what might pop up.”

“When was it you moved in?”

“Just a few weeks before the Collapse. Kevin was sweet enough to help me unload the truck, and he even gave me some fresh basil and lettuce from the grow room. I thought he was sweet!” Walking the fence line between her house and the Erickson’s, Michelle recounted her experience seeing the zombies attack the owners. Doc quickly changed the subject.

“Isn’t this an attractive maple!” he said, gesturing toward the solitary tree that grew in her yard, about three-quarters of the way back. “Look at the low branches! When I was a kid, I would have been climbing this tree all the time!”

“Me too,” admitted Michelle. “I was quite the tomboy. I used to climb trees, catch frogs and snakes, all the things boys did. I even went fishing with my dad.”

“I was going to ask you about him. What kind of man was he?” Doc asked.

Michelle paused. “I’ve been asking myself that same question for years. When I was a little girl, he was my hero. Like I said, we went hunting and fishing, I even helped dress the elk and clean the fish. I think I took the place of the son he always wanted. Then things changed when I got older. For a long time I thought he was a jerk. He was hardly ever around. I think he missed every birthday and nearly every holiday after I turned twelve. He was always going on hunting trips. Mom used to tell me it started when I hit puberty.”

“For the longest time, I believed her. I thought he was disappointed because I wasn’t a boy. Now I wonder. Maybe it had nothing to do with me. Maybe he wanted to get away from Mom. I think they quit being lovers, then quit being friends, too. Dad was never mean to her, but he didn’t act like he enjoyed her company. A few years ago I came across a quote by Albert Einstein, and I liked it so much I memorized it. He said,
Men marry women with the hope they will never change. Women marry men with the hope they will change. Invariably they are both disappointed.
I think that’s what happened with my parents. He expected her to stay the woman he fell in love with and she changed. She became very manipulative, and my dad was smart enough to recognize it. They were both extraordinarily intelligent. He was smart enough to see her manipulation for what it was; she was smart enough to fool everyone but him.”

“So you see, even when she told me Dad was gone all the time because I developed breasts, she was manipulating me into taking the blame. So in some ways my perspective on both of them has turned around completely.” She was silent for a few minutes. By now they were on their third lap around the yard and dusk was setting in. “As I grew older, I started learning the truth.”

“And the truth is  .  .  .  ?”

“My dad was a good man. Many people thought he was a great man, but he wasn’t great. He was a good man with a streak of cowardice. When I got pregnant, my mother deliberately turned him against me. She told him lies, she told my friends lies, she sabotaged a lot of relationships I had with people. I think at first he believed her, and by the time he figured out what she was doing, the damage was done. But then something happened not long before I moved here that really opened my eyes.” Doc stayed silent, waiting for her to go on.

“I was in the elevator at work, going to lunch, and one of my dad’s best friends got on the elevator. He seemed genuinely happy to see me, and when I told him I was going to lunch, he asked if he could join me. I hadn’t seen him in years and was glad to have his company. As we sat in the cafeteria, he told me something I’ll never forget. He said that a few weeks earlier he seen my dad and asked how I was doing, and at first Dad told him I was doing great and how proud he was. But then my dad broke down and started crying. He said he really was proud of me, but to be honest, he didn’t know how I was doing. He said my mom had him over a barrel and she refused to let him have anything to do with me. My dad’s friend sat there in the cafeteria with tears in his eyes, telling me how my dad cried and said that he hated what was going on but didn’t know what to do about it.”

Michelle stopped and turned to Doc. “I never heard from my dad after we had our falling out. He never once told me he was proud of me, not when I graduated from nursing school, not when I became a nurse practitioner. My six-foot, two-inch dad, the big game hunter, the guy who shot and killed a rampaging grizzly bear, one of the most respected men in the community, wasn’t man enough to stand up to my five-foot, six-inch mom and say
No. Enough. I will not treat our daughter like this.
It didn’t make sense when I learned it, it doesn’t make sense now. It never will. I’ll never understand.”

“What did your dad mean when he said your mom had him over a barrel?”

“I have no idea. Maybe some kind of dirt on him that could ruin him. Maybe he cheated on her, or maybe he hit her once, or maybe he had some strange sexual tastes. You tell me: what kind of dirt could a mother have on a father that would force him to disown his own daughter?”

“I honestly don’t know, Michelle. I’ve never heard a story like that. I’ve heard lots of stories where the tables are turned—parents get divorced and the mother turns the children against the father. I know several men who went through it. I even went through it myself. When my wife and I got divorced she took the children and moved out of town. I had my practice, I couldn’t just up and move. But I called them once a week, sent them birthday cards and Christmas cards and presents. I always sent my child support checks in full and on time.”

“But after a while she started saying they didn’t want to talk to me, and during my scheduled visitation they balked about spending the weekend with me. I got angry with my ex and said some rude things to her and she responded by getting a bogus restraining order against me. I wasn’t allowed within one hundred yards of her. I couldn’t go to any of their school activities or sports because she was there.”