Bird Box

thirty-two

She has known this was coming. How could she not? All the signs have been there since they returned with the dogs. Tom and Jules have been training them ten, twelve hours a day. Using the house, then the yard. Seeing Eye dogs. The box of birds hanging outside works like an alarm. Just like Tom said it would. The birds cooed when Gary arrived. They sing when Cheryl feeds them. So, it was only a matter of time before Tom declared he was going to use the Seeing Eye dogs to enter the new world once again.

But this time it’s worse. Because this time he’s going farther.

They were gone two days for one block. When will we see them again if they go three miles?

Three miles. That’s how far it is to Tom’s house. That’s where he wants to go.

“It’s the only place I can be a hundred percent sure of,” he said. “I’ve got supplies there. We need them. Band-Aids. Neosporin. Aspirin. Bandages.”

Malorie’s spirit rose with the mention of medicine. But Tom outside, and for that long, is too much for her to support.

“Don’t worry,” Felix said that same night. “We’ve mapped it out to a T. Tom and Jules are going to walk to the rhythm of a song. A single song. It’s called ‘Halfway to Paradise’ by a guy named Tony Light. They’ll bring the radio and play it over and over as they follow the directions we’ve figured out. We know how many steps it will take for each direction, for every portion of the trip.”

“So you’re planning on dancing there?” Gary said. “How nice.”

“Not dancing,” Tom said aggressively. “Walking to get help.”

“Tom,” Cheryl said, “you can practice this all you want, but if your steps are a half an inch longer out there, you’re going to be off. You’ll get lost. And how the fuck are you going to get back then? You won’t.”

“We will,” Tom said.

“And it’s not like we’re helpless if we get lost,” Jules added. “We need the supplies. You know this better than most, Cheryl. You took stock last.”

Yes, this day has been coming. But Malorie doesn’t like it at all.

“Tom,” she said, pulling him aside, just before he and Jules left this morning. “I don’t think the house could stand it if you didn’t come back.”

“We’re going to come back.”

“I understand that you think you will,” Malorie said, “but I don’t think you realize how much the house needs you.”

“Malorie,” he said, as Jules called that he was ready to go, “the house needs all of us.”

“Tom.”

“Don’t let the nerves get to you like they did last time. Instead, lean on the fact that we came back last time. We’ll do it again. And this time, Malorie, act as a leader. Help them when they get scared.”

“Tom.”

“You need the medicine, Malorie. Sterilization. You’re close.”

It was clear that Tom was on a path of his own, prepared to repeatedly risk his life in the name of advancing life in the house.

Last time they came back with children’s shoes, she reminded herself.

And she reminds herself again of this, now. Now that Tom and Jules are gone, embarking on a three-mile walk into the most dangerous landscape the world has known.

They left this morning. Felix went over the map with them once more. Gary encouraged them. Olympia gave them a Petoskey stone she said had always been good luck for her. But Malorie did not say a word. As the front door closed for the second time on Tom, Malorie did not call to him. She did not hug him. She did not say good-bye.

It pains her now, only hours after their exit.

Yet, the few words Tom spoke to her before leaving are working. Without him here, the house needs a guiding force. A person who can remain calm among so much anxiety, so much justifiable fear.

But it’s hard. The housemates are not in the mood for optimism.

Cheryl points out that the chances of encountering a creature are obviously much greater on a three-mile walk than they are over a two-block circle. She reminds those still in the house that nobody knows how animals are affected. What will happen to Tom and Jules if the huskies see something this time? Will they be eaten? Or worse?

Cheryl isn’t the only one espousing dark possibilities.

Don is suggesting an alternate group prepare themselves to leave in the event Tom and Jules do not return. We need more food, he says. Whether they make it back or not.

Olympia says she has a headache. She says it means a big storm is coming. And a storm has to alter Felix’s measurements when Tom and Jules are forced to find cover.

Cheryl agrees.

Don is heading into the cellar to take his “own look” at the stock, to find out exactly what they need and where to go to get it.

Olympia is talking about lightning and being out in the open.

Cheryl is debating with Felix about the map. She’s saying maps don’t mean anything anymore.

Don is talking about sleeping arrangements.

Olympia is describing a tornado from her youth.

Cheryl and Felix are getting heated.

Olympia sounds a little hysterical.

Don is getting mad.

Malorie, sick of the growing panic, speaks up at last.

“Everybody,” she says, “we have things we could be doing. Right here in this house. We need to prepare dinner. The shit bucket hasn’t been brought out all day. The cellar could be arranged better than it is. Felix, you and I could check the yard for tools, something we might have missed. Something we could use. Cheryl, you’ve got to feed the birds. Gary, Don, why not make phone calls. Call every combination of numbers. Who knows who you might reach. Olympia, it’d be really helpful if you washed the bedding. We did it a week ago, but with as little as we wash ourselves in this place, it’s the little things, like cleaner sheets, that make it bearable.”

The housemates look at Malorie like she’s a stranger. For a moment, she feels embarrassed for asserting herself. But then, it works.

Gary quietly walks to the telephone. Cheryl goes to the cellar door.

You’re close, Tom said to her before he left.

She thinks of this, as the housemates busy themselves with their chores, as Malorie and Felix go to get their blindfolds, she thinks of the things Tom and Jules might return with. Is there anything they could bring, anything, that would lead to a better life for her baby?

Picking up a blindfold, Malorie hopes.