The Book of the Unnamed Midwife

Chapter Six

???

Winter. Maybe October. Think it’s not December yet. Haven’t seen the stars in a couple of weeks since it’s always cloudy, but even then I couldn’t guess the date. Days short nights long.

Left the Mormons about a week ago. Paranoid at first, checking the windows all the time, waking up thinking I heard something or someone. Just nerves. They’re not coming. Don’t think they would even if they needed help. Bandaged broken pregnant I fucking doubt it. Rather keep to their own. Fine by me.

Quiet = awful. Next chance I get I’m going to load up on batteries and an old tape deck or a CD player or something. A crank-operated Victrola would do. Sing and talk to nobody and it’s always quiet. La la la even a song I hate pounding out of a jukebox would be perfect right now. Snow keeps everything silent outside. Used to leave the cooking channel on while I cleaned the house, just for the background noise. Three cups of chirp chirp stir in cups of giggles add a cookbook and a glossy headshot and bake for an hour while we pretend nothing will ever go wrong. Used to wish for quiet, to wake up when a garbage truck went rattling through the alley or when sirens whoop whoop down the street or a drunk stumbled and bellowed by my apartment window. Too much quiet, now. Pushing on me all the time.

Time I spent in Huntsville feels surreal. Church suppers and invisible children and five Santa Clauses talking bullshit about missions and prophecies. If they had gotten the electricity back on and were growing chocolate I wouldn’t have stayed. Too weird and they’d have eventually figured me out.

No books in this house. No shitty paperbacks, no self-help no romance no fairy tales nothing. The bible, the Book of Mormon and a couple others of their texts I’ve never read. Hope it doesn’t come to the Bible. Not up for the end times. They were wrong about it anyway. Tried the Book of Mormon. Can’t get past the provenance in the first pages. Nope. Maps from the feed store don’t have a library marked here in Eden. That leaves raiding houses for books. Eventually the boredom will get to me and I’ll go out when there’s a break in the snow. Been snowing for days. White white white down down down.

Winter

No break in the snow. Done a billion pushups. Found a wide door frame in the house where I can do pull ups. Never could do those before. Working out and singing old songs to myself. Thinking about Roxanne, about Chicken, about Jack. Too much.

Remember when Jack first started at the hospital, when we couldn’t stand each other. He was too good looking, I swear he got highlights that summer. Told people I thought he was gay, but I really just hoped he was. Didn’t want to get shot down. He was so out of my league. A good looking anesthesiologist walks in and every woman- from the pathologists to the CNAs fall into his lap. Wasn’t gonna be me.

Remember trying to shut him up, shut him down. I knew I was smarter than him on the first day and I made sure he knew it, too. Made sure he couldn’t keep up in conversation. Kept him out. Reminded people about inside jokes while he was around so he’d always be on the outside. When he dated Carly I made a few choice remarks about how she was just about his speed. It was catty. Shitty. But she always was the last to catch on. She went back to her ex, anyway. She always did.

Seemed like it was always like that. He was dating someone else, I was dating someone else. I ran into him one night while I was out with Leah, and he looked at me like he had it all figured out. Yeah you know me and so do all the ladies. You know me know me know me all the way down know me Jack I know you. Asked him out the next day, just to fuck with him.

But he said yes. Yes he said yes he said yes I said yes. All our life = yes.

Too much too fast and I knew I was in too deep. He always managed to surprise me. He was funny and sweet and kind of a goofball. I thought good looking guys defaulted to asshole, not trying to be much more than they had to. Living together just seemed like the best answer, since we both worked so much. We didn’t have a lot of time together but just the weight of him beside me, just his smell and his snoring made a difference to my life. My life + Jack = better. Life + plague — babies + bullshit + guns — women + snow — Jack — sense — meaning + 5ccs depo provera administer over time results inconclusive. Lost the chart.

* * * * *

She sat over her diary, lost in it for a long time. When she could snap out of her reverie, she got up, got dressed for travel, and slung a rifle over her shoulder. It was still snowing and the wind had buried the front door in a three foot drift. She went around to the back of the house, sheltered from the wind, and went out. She walked the mile gap to the nearest neighbor, broke in, and started looking for something to occupy her mind.

Five hours later, with the last of the light, she made it back. She was dragging a sled behind her.

* * * * *

Fourteen books. Two iPods that I left behind for obvious reasons. One battered discman and five batteries, none of them the right size. But maybe if I keep looking. A basket of knitting and a booklet on how to do it. Never knitted in my life. Got invited to stitch ‘n bitch a thousand times but it sounded pointless to me. Right now it sounds like an excellent idea.

Was really glad there aren’t any houses nearer but now I realize that raiding anything is going to be an all-day affair. Only hit two and I can’t go back out again soon. Want a fucking snowmobile.

Firewood is going slow. At least it’s good stuff, fallen hardwood and not a bunch of pine. Burns for a long time.

Wish I had an almanac. Wish I had the SF public library. Wish I had the right batteries for this CD player, even if the only thing I have to listen to is this Destiny’s Child CD in it. Wish I had a prime rib and a chocolate cake. Wish I had Netflix. Wish I had a friend. Wish I had Jack. Wish into the fire burn it like a djinn. Wishes into the fire. Fire.

* * * * *

She had been completely alone for twenty-seven days. She had read every book she could find and failed twice to try to start knitting a scarf. After the second attempt, she threw the bag out into the snow and watched it get buried. She sat at the window, scowling.

She was purely miserable. She slept long and late and ate listlessly, when it occurred to her. Her hair was growing out, she could feel it on the back of her neck. It had always grown fast. Every day she debated with herself what risks were the smarter ones to take. Stay here, take off the binder, be comfortable and take long baths. Re-read the books she had liked. No one was coming. She could walk around the house naked if she wanted.

She had spent a few hours outside, practicing to shoot the rifles. She found that she preferred the bolt action to the larger caliber break-action, although it had a scope, which she kept it in mind in case she needed to take a long shot. She felt competent and didn’t want to waste ammunition, so she quit.

When she was lonely, she tortured herself with the idea that it could be worse. She thought of the men at the lake house, the men in the mall. She thought about getting caught in Nevada and living out her days on a chain, burning inside. She thought about her apartment in San Francisco and could come up with not a single memory before she killed a man in her own bed. There was no before. The world had always been ending.

She had stopped talking. She had stopping singing, humming, whistling. She felt like a wild animal, like a raccoon that had cleverly burrowed into a house for the winter. She was a silent, thoughtless thing. Nothing interested her. Out of habit or stubbornness, she didn’t change her clothes or take that long indulgent bath. She reversed her sleeping cycle, staying up all night and sleeping all day. It snowed all the time.

She woke up one afternoon to the sound of pounding at the front door. Her heart was instantly in her throat, beating so swiftly she could barely breathe. She leapt up off the bed and picked up the rifle in the doorway. She came to the door and checked the peephole.

Outside was all white. A darker shape was buried halfway in snow, its face wrapped in dark cloth, unseen. The pounding started again, and with it a high-pitched voice.

“Please!”

She thought for a second and came to the idea that someone coming to surprise her wouldn’t knock on the door. She set the rifle down but close enough to reach and tripped the locks.

The visitor stumbled forward and snow scattered across the floor of the entryway. The scarf pulled open and a woman’s face appeared. Scared, cold, breathing steam and crying hot tears stood Jodi Obermeyer.

“Oh thank god you’re still here. Thank god. Thank god. Thank god.” She flung her arms around the startled woman’s neck and hung there, sobbing. She slid free after a minute. “I was afraid you had gone. I didn’t know where else to go.”

Dusty dragged the woman close to the Franklin stove in the kitchen and made her sit down. She built up the fire until it leapt.

She watched Jodi trying to warm up, pulling off her snow-covered outer layers and scooting closer to the fire.

So beautiful. So rosy freckled pink. That special stupid is stealing over me…I am dumb around beautiful women. Seen the same thing happen to men. It’s the kind of stupid that makes us pay attention to what a beautiful woman says, whether or not it’s true or useful or sane. So glad to see somebody, once I got over the scare. If I was going to get surprised by someone at my door, I’m glad it was her.

When Jodi had warmed up enough, she started talking. “I know I shouldn’t be here and I know if anyone finds out they’ll think I’ve broken my vows, but I had to get out of Huntsville. I left while everybody was asleep. I know the way, somebody mentioned you were in the Westin house. But I’ve never walked this far alone before. It took me forever but I was afraid to stop because I thought I might freeze to death.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t get lost.”

“I know. But I didn’t have any choice.”

“Why don’t you sit down on a chair and I’ll make some tea and we can talk it over?”

Jodi stood up. “I don’t drink tea.” Standing, with her coats off and her long skirts falling to the floor, she was obviously pregnant.

“Oh shit.”

Jodi put a hand protectively over her belly. “Is that any way to talk about a baby?”

“Oh shit,” she repeated, unable to say anything else. She stepped forward with her hands out, instinctively wanting to touch.

Jodi walked away, cradling her abdomen and sitting down gently on the couch. “I didn’t come here for you to lay hands on me. I’m still a married woman. Obviously.”

“I’m sorry, I should have asked you, of course. It’s just my training. I’ve treated pregnant woman for most of my professional career, I only wanted to assess…” She lost what she had been meaning to say.

Jodi’s face crumpled in and she started to sob. “Everything is so horrible. I need to know that I can trust you. Please just…”

She walked over to face the younger woman and raised her empty hands. “I promise you that you have nothing to fear from me. I’ll respect your boundaries and assist you any way that I can.”

Jodi nodded, crying harder.

“No tea, huh? How about cocoa? I’ve got that.”

“Sure.”

She made the cocoa on the hot stove, whipping it together with a fork. She brought it to the couch with a blanket and handed both to Jodi.

“Brother Dusty-“

The name startled her for a second. She had forgotten that was the one she had given them to call her.

Jodi sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “Brother Dusty, the month since you’ve been gone has been so awful. One of the missionaries sent to Nevada came back. Brother Danielson. His companion died on the road, but he brought back a wife.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. She was older, in her like late thirties I think. Brother Danielson said his companion had married them before he died. The elders argued about that, because missionaries aren’t allowed to marry people. But Brother Danielson said like they had prayed about it and it was the right thing to do. And she was already pregnant anyways.”

“That… might be good,” she said cautiously.

“Of course it was good, but there was all this fuss about it. She wasn’t a member, and she was black, and she was so much older than him. There were fights about whether the marriage was legit or if the baby would be born in covenant or not. Some of the brethren said the marriage should be annulled and she should be courted and choose someone or whatever, since she had only met two missionaries. It got freaking ugly. Brother Danielson ended up saying he’d kill anyone who tried to take his wife from him.

“But it didn’t matter anyways, because she was sick. We didn’t realize at first because she didn’t look sick. She was just like everyone else with the fever, no temperature for a long time and then suddenly super hot. She had joined the relief society and was helping us with the children. We got her away from them as soon as we figured it out, but it was too late. Everyone who hadn’t gotten sick the first time got it this time. Mikayla, Ben, and John all got it super fast. Mikayla was dead in three days but the boys held on a long time. They both died a few days ago. Patty had it before, she wasn’t sick at all.”

“Oh no. Not the kids. What about the women? Sister Everly and Sister Johannsen?”

“Sister Everly passed on. Sister Johannsen had it before, but she just about died taking care of the sick. But she couldn’t help it much. Elder Johannsen died right in front of her. Brother Danielson and his wife died alone in their house, nobody wanted to go to them. They blamed them for bringing it back.”

“So how many are left?”

“Bishop Comstock died, so Bishop Graves is in charge. There were twenty one people left when I ran away. But Bishop Graves is acting so weird.”

“Weird how?”

“He said he’s the prophet now. God’s telling him what to do. He married Patty.”

“Didn’t you say she was nine?”

Jodi nodded, tearful again. “He said she’s going to live in his house and learn to love him, but that he’ll hold her virginity sacred for seven years.”

“He’s a fucking prince.”

“Please don’t curse at me.” Jodi was still crying. “I’m just trying to tell you.”

“Ok. Ok, I’m sorry. Go on.”

“Sister Johannsen was remarried to Elder Sterling right away. I don’t even know if she wanted to, she’s been so sad since her husband died. But even then, with her as old as she is, there were fights about that, too. Every man in town wanted to marry her when her husband died. But then Bishop Graves turned on me. He said that my husband is never coming back, that God showed it to him. He said I needed to remarry, and suggested a few of the men to me. Brother Dusty, I just know Honus is alive. I would feel it if he died. I have his baby inside me, like I would know.”

Dusty nodded, not committing to saying anything.

“But he kept after me. Marry this guy, marry that guy. I told him, like I am still married. But they started showing up at my house all the time, bringing me presents, offering me special things. Promising me what good husbands they would be. I didn’t want to be mean to them, but it was like breaking my heart. I couldn’t cheat on Honus.”

“How far along are you?” Dusty looked at her belly, guessing six months at the most.

“Honus and I were married one hundred and eighty days ago, exactly. We were together for a week before he was sent out. So I’m like six months.”

Dusty nodded. “So you left to get away from all that?”

Jodi started to sob again, clutching up the blanket. “No, I left when the Bishop said I would be married in a week to the man of his choosing, and that I was being stiff-necked and disobedient and I’d have to learn to submit. He issued like a proclamation that women would be given in marriage by their fathers or by the bishop from now on. Period. We don’t get to decide anymore.”

“I see.” Dusty was boiling with an old anger, it seemed as old as the world.

“I went to his wedding with Patty. We don’t have a temple, but they made do. She cried like the whole time. It was terrible. The guys all looked jealous or bored, but nobody seemed sorry for her. They were just like, ‘that’s how it is now.’” I tried to talk to Sister Johannsen… I guess she’s Sister Sterling now… I talked to her about it. She said it’s hard for Patty to understand because she’s just a little girl, but that I was grown up and I should know better.”

“Why didn’t they wait until the baby was born? Why so soon?”

Jodi choked a little laugh and shook her head. “They don’t know,” she said.

“What?”

“They don’t know I’m expecting. I’ve been wearing my sister’s old clothes that are super baggy on me and tying my apron really loose. I hid when I had morning sickness and I never told anyone. I lived alone in our house, mine and Honus’. I really wanted to tell the little girls, to tell them how like awesome it was to feel him kick and whatever. But I didn’t.”

“Unfuckingbelievable.”

“Why do you have such a potty mouth?” Jodi glared at her.

Everyone you know is dead, but let’s focus on my language.

“Are you really angry at cursing at a time like this? Look, it’s how people talk where I’m from. I’m sorry it offends you. I’ll try to keep it under control, but this is my house.”

Jodi appeared chastened. “Forgive me, Brother Dusty. I didn’t mean to challenge your authority.”

“Oh for fuck’s… heaven’s sake.” Dusty stood up and took Jodi’s empty cup. “You want another one?”

“Yes, thank you. Could I fix you something to eat?”

Dusty smiled, her back to the girl. “I think that’s your subservient way of saying you’re hungry. Am I right?” She glanced over her shoulder to see her reaction.

“No I just meant if you wanted… you don’t have anybody to cook for you. I can do that. I can clean, too, and like wash clothes. I really don’t want to go back. I will make myself useful and stuff if I can stay.”

Dusty put the kettle back on and turned around. “Of course you can stay. What kind of heartless psycho would turn a pregnant woman out into the snow? Stay as long as you want, and I’ll take care of you. I’ve been in labor and delivery for the last ten years. I want to ask you some questions, though.”

“Sure, whatever.” Jodi pulled the blanket up to her chin.

“Is this your first pregnancy?” Dusty poured out another cup of cocoa and put on two cans of soup.

“Of course it is. I told you, we just got married.”

“Of course. And you said ‘he.’ How do you know the baby’s sex?”

“I just have a feeling.”

“So you didn’t tell Dr. Beaumont you were pregnant, either.”

“No. I was afraid to.”

“Have you been taking prenatal vitamins or anything like that?”

“Yeah, I knew that was important. I took them from bishop’s storehouse, but nobody noticed. They’re in my coat.”

“Smart girl. Any bleeding or cramping?”

“No, huh uh, not at all.”

When the soup was steaming, she poured it into deep mugs and brought one to Jodi with her cocoa. She returned with her own and sat back down.

“Jodi, have you seen any babies born since the plague came through the first time?”

“No.” She set her mouth in a little pink purse. She knew what was coming, but her mind was already made up.

“But you heard about it? You know that a lot of babies are born sick and they… they don’t make it. You heard that, right? I’m not trying to scare you. I just want you to understand the risks of the situation.”

“That doesn’t matter,” she said firmly.

“Why is that?”

“Because there’s a new covenant. The prophet said so. Babies born into the new world and the new covenant will live.”

“Is that the same prophet who just married a nine year old girl?”

“No, like the real prophet in Salt Lake City.” Jodi looked like she was trying to explain something simple to someone very stupid. “He told all the bishops in his last message before we lost contact or whatever. Our babies are safe.”

How convenient.

“Ok. I will do the best I can for you and your child. I’ll help you any way I can. But I can’t do that unless you’re honest with me. Can you promise to tell me how you’re feeling and if anything changes?”

Jodi nodded.

“Alright. There’s a bedroom at the end of the hall that I think belonged to a teenage girl. It has its own small fireplace. I can start a fire in there, if you want to take it.”

“That’d be fine.”

* * * * *

Told her to be honest with me, but I’m not even trying to be honest with her. Let her figure it out or tell her? How weirded out is she going to be? Be better that she know I’m not going to try to fuck her, that I can examine her without her freaking out about it. She finds out on her own = might not be able to trust me afterward. Could take this fucking binder off. = = = = Have to tell her.

* * * * *

In the morning, Dusty had hardly slept. She had been nocturnal for too long. She got up anyway, relieved to have somebody to talk to. She found Jodi already at work.

“I was gonna surprise you with breakfast.” She was in the pantry, looking at the shelves. “I can make eggs and biscuits, I think. There’s some canned sausage gravy. How does that sound?”

Dusty had avoided the powdered eggs so far. She knew one day they’d have to get eaten. It wasn’t a good time to be picky. “Sounds good. I’m going to make some coffee. It’s instant and the creamer is dried, but it’s not bad. You’re not supposed to have a lot, but I could make you a weak cup.”

Jodi didn’t look back at her, she was reaching for the powdered eggs. “No tea, no coffee. I told you.”

“Oh, right. Mormons.”

“Yeah. Like I’ve never even had coffee. Everybody says the smell is nice but the taste is super yucky.”

“You get used to it,” Dusty said as she put the kettle on.

The kitchen was large but the Franklin stove was small. In the end, Dusty let Jodi shoo her out to the table so she had enough room to cook.

“So did you get a job after high school?”

“Nah, me and Honus got engaged right at my graduation. It was super romantic. I waited for him while he served his mission in Canada, I wrote him letters like every week. That was super hard. I can’t believe I have to wait for him again. Anyways, he got into BYU and we were gonna move to Provo together.”

“Did you apply to college, too?”

“Nah, I knew we would have kids right away. I’ve always wanted to be a mom. Did you ever get married?”

“No.” When the kettle whistled, Dusty got up and made a cup of coffee with cream.

“Aw, that’s so sad.”

“It would have been sadder to have been married and have it fall apart.” She sat down and stirred her coffee.

“So you were like a doctor?”

Dusty tried to remember what she had told them in Huntsville. She didn’t recall, but she didn’t think Jodi remembered anyway. “I was a registered nurse and midwife. I got my degree at UCSF and worked in the university hospital. Babies born every day. Always plenty of work to do.”

“Wow, that’s so cool.” She sounded distracted.

“It was cool. I loved my job.” Dusty hadn’t tried at all this morning to sound like a man. She was still wearing the binder, going slowly. She waited.

After a few minutes, Jodi came out carrying two plates. “The biscuits burned on the bottom. I’ve never cooked them that way before. I just cut the bottoms off.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Jodi sat down, pushing her chair back to make room for her belly. “I swear I’m bigger every day. Are you gonna…?”

“What?” Dusty already had half a biscuit in her mouth.

“Are you gonna say a blessing, Brother Dusty?”

“Oh. Why don’t you go ahead?”

Jodi smiled indulgently at her. “Dear most gracious Heavenly Father…”

Dusty chewed and swallowed unhurriedly. Jodi’s prayer was almost the exact same as the ones she had heard given in Huntsville. Same words, same cadence, same sequence. Dusty waited.

“Amen.” Jodi ate as though she were hungry. “I should make some fruit and veggies with lunch. I know the little guy needs them.”

Dusty nodded approvingly, still mashing biscuit crumbs and sausage gravy together to cover the texture of powdered eggs. “That’s a good idea, good that you’re paying attention. What would you like to do today?”

“I dunno,” Jodi said. “You know what I miss?”

Dusty smiled and popped her chin to encourage the answer. She was happy in the anticipation of being able to miss the lost world together. They could share it.

Like with Roxanne.

“I super miss TV.”

Not at all like Roxanne. She’s just a kid.

Dusty tried not to look let down. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“I miss ‘Real Housewives,’ and ‘The Bachelor.’ They always went on the best dates. It was so romantic.” She looked wistful, like she was remembering old friends.

“Oh. I don’t think I ever saw either one of those.”

Jodi rewarded her with nearly an hour of exposition of where the season had ended with the bachelor, who was there for the ‘right reasons,’ and who was pushing the envelope sexually. Dusty was bored with the subject in minutes, but she tried to take comfort in the sound of Jodi’s voice. She had desperately wanted someone to talk to. She couldn’t be picky about her company now.

When she had finished her breathless recap, Jodi turned to Dusty. “So, what have you been doing here alone all this time?”

“Well, I read every book on the block. They’re in the dining room on the sideboard, if you want to try one.”

“Nah, I don’t really like to read.”

There’s a shock.

Jodi had washed the dishes and wiped down the kitchen. She stoked the fire and then turned around, looking for something to do.

“What’d you do in your spare time in Huntsville?”

“Canning and sewing and stuff. Like taking care of everyone, making food and fixing socks and stuff.”

“What do you like to do, though?”

Jodi looked blank.

“Don’t get much time off, do you?”

“I dunno. I liked to talk with the other sisters. Gossip, really. I know we’re not supposed to, but it always happens. I guess there’s nothing to gossip about with just the two of us here.”

“Well, there might be…”

Jodi looked at her askance. “What do you mean?”

“There isn’t any easy way to say this,” she began.

“Oh no.” Jodi looked stricken. “Please. Please don’t.”

“What? Why are you so scared of me?” Dusty took a step toward her, then thought better of it and stopped.

“I don’t know, but I can tell you’re trying to tell me something important. Is it bad news? I can’t take any more bad news.” She was blinking back tears.

Dusty sighed, exasperated. “It’s not bad news. It’s just something I want to get off my chest. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Ok. What?”

“I’m not a man.”

Jodi stared at her.

“I’ve been dressing like a man since I left San Francisco. I’ve been much safer this way. It’s not safe out there for anyone, but especially not for women.”

“You’re lying.” Jodi looked very confused.

“What, do you want me to show you? Look at me! No beard. No Adam’s apple. It’s a simple disguise.”

“But your figure…?”

“I’m wearing a binding vest.”

“A what?”

“It’s a vest that smashes your breasts down. So you can look like a guy.” She itched to take it off, and this was taking longer than she expected. She had thought Jodi would see it right away and laugh a little at having been fooled for this long.

“Why would that even exist? Who would want that?”

Dusty snorted. “Lots of people you’ve never met. Look, why would I lie about this?”

“To get me to drop my guard so you can like take advantage of me.”

Dusty rolled her eyes. “This is stupid.”

She started unbuttoning the plaid shirt she was wearing. Jodi started to look away, but when the top of the vest became visible she was transfixed. The garment was very worn, and yellowed at the armpits. The front closed in a long series of tiny bra hooks. It didn’t fit well or snugly anymore; Dusty had lost too much weight and it had just been worn too long. Still, it was doing a fair job of smoothing out her curves. The material had a translucent white mesh and the pink of her nipples showed through just slightly. She pushed the hooks together and started to open the vest. She reached a deep V between her breasts and her cleavage was clear.

“Ok, stop. I get it. You really aren’t a man.”

“Nope. I’m gonna get this thing off.” She walked out of the room to go change. She pulled a sports bra out of the bottom of her pack and put it back on, followed by her shirt.

She walked back out, buttoning up. “Sorry about that. I just had to prove it to you.” She looked up, but she didn’t see Jodi anywhere.

“What the fuck?”

She walked around the house, looking for her. She was about to call out when she heard the snowmobile outside. She crossed to the window and looked. It was pulling up out front.

Shit shit shitty shitstorming fuck. Perfect.

She ripped her heavy winter coat off the hook by the door and put it on. Then she ran into the kitchen, picked up the wet clothes Jodi had hung up to dry and stuffed them into the oven. She turned around, looking to see if there was any other sign of the girl. She touched the gun in the back of her waistband where it always was and spotted the rifle leaning against the wall.

Safe. Everything safe. Alone here.

She went to the door. She thought about refusing to open it, but discarded the idea. Too suspicious. She looked through the peephole just as they started to knock. It was Chalmers and another man she had never seen. She opened the door.

“Hi, guys. What can I do for you? Is one of you hurt?” She did her best to deliver it with light concern, in her old Dusty low voice.

“No Brother Dusty, we’re fine. This is Brother Randolph. We’re looking for a member of the congregation who went missing yesterday.”

“In this snow? Are you serious? That’s awful.” She was trying to look behind them to see if Jodi’s tracks were visible in the deep snow. It had snowed all night, and there wasn’t much left. She could always tell them they were her own.

“I’m afraid so. Have you seen or heard anything unusual today?” Chalmers was watching her face, his calm blue eyes boring into hers.

“Man, I wish. I haven’t heard so much as a bird in days. It’s pretty lonesome out here.” She smiled thinly.

Chalmers nodded. “We’re going to take a look around the neighborhood.”

Randolph looked at him in surprise. “Shouldn’t we search the house?”

Her blood pressure went up and she fought it. “You guys are welcome to come in. I’ve got coffee. I haven’t been feeling well this week, so I’ve got the kettle going all the time. I’m even wearing my coat in the house.” She shrugged inside her clothes as if to dig herself in deeper and pulled her neck down into the hood.

Her throwaway comment about feeling sick struck them like an arrow. Chalmers was suddenly inching his way down the porch steps.

“Oh that’s fine, we don’t want to bother you.” He tugged at Randolph’s sleeve. If you see anyone out in the snow, I’m sure you’ll render aid. We’ll come back and check with you in a week or so.” He almost tripped in his eagerness to get away.

She waved to them from the doorway and closed up slowly. Then she threw the bolt and put her back up against the door. She heard the snowmobile start up.

“Jodi?”

The broom closet in the kitchen swung open and Jodi spilled out, trembling all over. “Thank god, oh thank god.”

“They’re gone. I don’t know if they tracked you here or what, but they’re definitely looking for you. How did you know they were coming?”

“I heard it! Didn’t you hear it? That thing is super loud.”

“Did you leave a note? Tell anyone where you were going?”

She shrugged. “No. People disappear sometimes. They just leave. I thought they’d like… just forget about it. You know?”

“You mean guys disappear sometimes. Have you ever lost a woman that way?”

She goggled at Dusty. “No… I didn’t think of it that way.”

Dusty sat down on the sofa. “Yeah, well. There’s no mystery to those disappearances, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re just suicides. Comstock didn’t want to admit it, but it was pretty clear.”

“There’s no way that’s true.” Jodi’s face set along angry lines. “Why would anybody do that?”

Dusty snorted. “Yeah, you’re right. Why would they? Everything is wonderful.” It came out meaner than she had meant it. She saw Jodi flinch.

Jodi got up and went to the kitchen. “I’m gonna-“

“Stay away from the windows for a while. They said they were going to search the neighborhood. I don’t know if they will, but just in case.”

Jodi came back into the doorway. “You’re not really sick, are you?”

Dusty snorted. “No. I just told them that so they’d be too scared to come in.”

Jodi stared at her, her brows coming together.

“You want to feel my head?”

Dusty expected Jodi to laugh it off, but she came straight toward her with her hand out. She laid the back of her left hand against Dusty’s cheek and waited. Looking away, she cupped her palm against Dusty’s forehead.

“Normal, right?”

Jodi dropped her hand. “Yeah. Yeah, just checking.”

Keep checking. Please.

It was casual contact, almost clinical. But her hand was soft and small, with slender fingers. It awakened something in Dusty that she had been ignoring while it slept. Something stirred and wanted and ached. She did everything she could to coax it back to bed.

Winter

If that missionary brought back a live plague victim from Nevada = fever is still active in some places. Maybe she got it from a corpse?

People who never got sick, like Roxanne and most of the people in Huntsville. Immune or never exposed = the second exposure to Huntsville broke their quarantine and killed the ones who were not immune. There are those of us who got sick but fought it off, like me. Maybe no one is naturally immune and the degree of exposure determines infection. But then no one in Huntsville would have made it. Vector was cooking in the communal kitchen and they all ate together. Some people must be immune.

Those of us who got it might be able to get it again. Drilled Jodi about it a hundred times. She never had it, and she doesn’t remember if anyone who died recently had previously recovered. No good with details that aren’t relevant to her own interests.

Jodi has been here with me for a week. She really wants to be helpful. Very industrious, very clean. Won’t waste a single bite of food and she makes her bed every morning. However, useless to talk to. Simple+childlike=dull. Has almost no imagination and anything outside of her experience she just won’t believe.

Talks about television almost constantly. Wish she had watched different shows. It might be interesting to listen if she had been addicted to fiction, even if it was silly, but all she watched was reality. She repeats the plots to me, but she always leaves things out so that they don’t make sense, so then I ask questions and she remembers. An incredibly tiresome pastime. Wanted company, but shit. Miss the nurses I used to work with. Mean and hard and sometimes crass, but at least they weren’t dumb. Even Roxanne. Wasn’t book smart, but she was cunning. Roxanne = GOT IT. Understood me without my having to explain constantly. Jodi doesn’t even get jokes. Realized a few days ago I’m nice to her because we’re alone here, but also because she’s pretty. Just like to look at her. She’s probably been treated like that her whole life. Don’t like myself much when I think of that.

She finally let me examine the baby. Palpated the fundus, was able to discern length of femur.

Not receptive at all to talking about what’s going to happen when the baby is born. Not interested in my experience with the plague, or in the story I got from Roxanne. Not going to scare her or torture her with the possibility, but I wish she’d at least think about it. She’s going to fall apart if she doesn’t prepare.

* * * * *

The snow quit one day and Dusty got bundled up to go out.

“Hey, I’m gonna skip breakfast. I’m going to walk two miles or so to the nearest neighbor that I haven’t robbed yet. It will take me a couple of hours, then I’ll be back. Is there anything you’d like me to look for? For you?”

She stood in the doorway tying up her scarf. Jodi came out of the kitchen looking frightened.

“You’re leaving me?”

“What? No. I’m just going to walk to another house and look for supplies. I’d like some new books. Maybe find a house that has some board games? And you need some bigger clothes…”

Jodi’s face was crumpling. It was all Dusty could do to hold back a sigh of exasperation and contempt.

“I’m fine. I don’t need anything new.” She folded her arms across her chest.

“Well I do,” Dusty said simply. “And I’m going. I’ll lock you in, and I doubt anyone will come looking for you today-“

“No!” She said it like she was a moment away from a tantrum; Dusty expected her to stamp her foot. “If you’re leaving, then I’m going with you.”

This time Dusty did sigh. She wanted some time off. Not to live alone forever, but just a short break from Jodi, filling the silence with her meaningless chatter.

Find some people, wish you were alone. Live alone, wish for people.

“You’re very pregnant. You want to walk four miles in the snow?”

“You’re supposed to walk when you’re pregnant, right? Like for exercise? So I’ll walk with you.”

Dusty rolled her eyes. “In small doses, not in an endurance march. You’re going to get very tired. You don’t have the stamina you had before you got pregnant. This will be hard and cold and your ankles will get swollen.”

Jodi shrugged. “If I’m too tired to come back, we can sleep in some other house.”

“What if there’s no firewood?”

She shrugged again. “Whatever. I’m bored and I don’t want to stay here alone. I’m going with you.”

“Fine. I can’t stop you from coming with me. But I expect you to keep up. And I do not want to stay somewhere else for the night. We’re taking the sled, and you do what I tell you to. Alright?”

She smiled as suddenly as she had pouted, as suddenly as she could burst into tears when she wanted. “Yay! I’ll get dressed!”

“Put on a pair of sweat pants under your skirt,” Dusty said, miserable by the door.

To Jodi’s credit, it didn’t take her long. In a scant few minutes she was back out of her bedroom, wearing sweatpants as she was told. A long skirt and a down-filled jacket went over, with a scarf and hat and a small wicker basket draped over one arm.

Dusty considered her. Jodi was a brat, but she’d been brought up in a rigid structure that only got more rigid after the plague. She would do what Dusty told her to because it was how she had always lived. At the very least, she was biddable. Dusty was grateful for that as she locked the door behind them.

They walked to the end of the yard in silence. The snow was drifted up so high that the sled skidded along on the surface at almost hip height. Dusty knew they had come to the street by the mailbox.

“So, where are we headed?”

Dusty pointed to the right. “There are two houses a couple of miles that way that I’ve just about cleaned out. I’d like to go the other way, I think there are more down the road a bit. The map looks like a cul-de-sac about three miles down.”

“Ok.”

They trudged into the street and dragged the sled slowly down the road.

“So I’ve been thinking about names for the baby.”

Dusty looked up at the black tree branches with little white tents of snow piled on top. “Only natural. So what are your thoughts?”

“Well, if it’s a boy, his middle name has to be Honus, after his father. That’s an Obermeyer tradition. But I was thinking about first names. Like what about Brad? Or Ashton? Or what about Jaden? Isn’t that super pretty?”

“It was really popular last year at the hospital. About every other boy was named Aiden Braden Jaden or Kaden.”

Jodi was silent. Dusty didn’t look, because she knew that she would be stormy.

“Then again, most of those kids are dead. So I guess it hardly matters.”

Didn’t mean that to sound callous. Just practical. She’s pissed again. Like it’s my fault.

Jodi waited a few minutes before speaking. “It might be a girl, I guess. I really feel like it’s a boy, but better safe than sorry or whatever. So I was thinking about Chloe and Zoe. Or like a really super old name, like Abigail. What do you think?”

“Those are lovely,” Dusty said absently.

Name plates in the neonate ward, the ones nurses slipped into the fronts of cradles. Boy Jones. Girl Rodriguez. Sometimes the parents had whole name ready to go. Dusty remembered kids named Angel and Treasure, kids named Jesus and Elvis and Belle and Martin Luther and Kal-El. Those that weren’t named after someone famous were named after someone in the family. Always some idea of who the kid should be.

“Honus and I talked about names. He really wanted to name his son George. He said that was Baby Ruth’s real name.”

“Babe Ruth? The baseball player?”

“Yeah. Honus and his dad are like really into sports. It’s all they talk about.” Jodi was grinning.

“Are you into sports too?”

“Nah, that’s guy stuff. But I’m glad it makes him happy.”

The road had markers to keep drivers aware of where they were on the Utah grid system. They had moved one square west of Dusty’s house. It seemed like they were making good time.

In the cold air, Jodi’s cheeks were pink roses and her eyes were bright. She was clearly enjoying being out of the house for a bit.

“Honus is such a sweetheart. He always surprises me with little presents. He’s funny and silly. I miss him so much.”

“Where was he sent again?”

“Colorado. Denver.” She said it very quietly, looking at the uneven trenches her legs were cutting through the snow.

Get used to being a widow.

“Ah. Do they usually send men out who’ve just been married?”

“Not before. Before it was unmarried guys when they turned eighteen, and old maids who hadn’t gotten married by twenty five. But Bishop Comstock said it had to be young men, and there weren’t that many of those. So they let us get married and have a week together, and then sent him out. It was kind of like a blessing, because now when he comes home I’ll be able to surprise him with a baby.”

“Will he be happy?”

“Of course he will! He wants to be a daddy, that’s why we got married.”

“Is he handsome?”

“Oh my gosh yes he is so cute. He’s taller than me, like way tall. He has brown hair and blue eyes and the best smile. He played basketball in high school. I was a freshman when he was a senior and I was crushing on him from day one. I used to go to his games. He was gonna play for BYU.” She looked wistful and proud, as if recalling achievements of her own.

“He sounds lovely.”

“Yeah, so like when he got called to Ottawa he was super excited. He really wanted to be called to like Japan or something, but whatever. So I promised I would wait and we made plans and stuff. I never thought I’d have to wait like this again.”

“I never thought I’d do a lot of things I’ve had to do since this all started.”

Jodi looked at her, a little concern wrinkling her smooth forehead. “Like what?”

Dusty waited a minute, looking up and down the white road. “I think we’re about halfway.”

“Can we take a break?” Jodi’s voice was plaintive, not quite whining.

“We really can’t,” Dusty told her. “We need to get somewhere warm before we sit down. It’s no good for you to be in this cold, and it would only prolong your exposure if we take a break out here. We’re almost there.”

“Ok.” Jodi launched into another long explanation of her favorite TV show, this time the scandalous real life of a group of rich and famous sisters. Dusty checked out and just said “Yes” or “Mhmm” or “Oh really?” in the right places. She reached back and put her hand on her gun periodically, like touching a talisman.

Finally, Dusty saw the outline of a house up ahead. It was two stories tall and the front door was drifted in. The snow was at least good for showing whether people had been in and out recently.

“Look!” She pointed it out to Jodi, who snapped her head toward it.

“Oh yay! We found it!”

They ran haltingly, struggling to get through the snow in the road and to the edge of the yard. As they got closer, Dusty saw that it was a large house with a huge bay window. She smiled.

“This could be good.”

The door was unlocked. Jodi opened it and they walked in together.

Dusty went straight to the decorative fireplace with a dry stack of oak beside it and looked around for kindling. She took the magazines off the coffee table and used them to start a fire. She wrenched the flue open and sat patiently, feeding the flames until it roared. She told Jodi to sit down in front of it and warm up, especially her legs.

“Try to stop me,” said Jodi as she shucked off her snow-caked shoes.

Dusty stomped her feet and started to check the place out.

It was obviously a family home. Stains on the couch and pictures on the mantle. A plastic high chair at the kitchen table. A tub of toys in a cozier family room, located off the side of the main entrance. She opened up the pantry and took a look. There was soup here she thought they should take, among other things. She thought she’d let Jodi check the food, since she did most of the cooking. She went up the back staircase and started looking through the bedrooms.

The master bedroom had a dead couple in the bed, their arms laid over the smaller corpses of their children under the blankets.

Well, good for you. Sound decision.

She took a bottle of frozen shampoo from the windowsill above their shower and tucked it into her pack. None of the clothes in the large closet looked like a good fit for either of them. She closed the door and moved to the next room.

She found a handful of board games in a closet and stacked them at the top of the stairs. She loaded her bag with books, including about twenty from a young girl’s bedroom. The kid had favored science fiction and fantasy and Dusty’s eyes grew large at the sight of them. She thought she’d love to travel in some other worlds for a change. In a boy’s room she found another stack, mostly adventures. She was so glad for this discovery that she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet at the sight of them. She thought the books alone made up for the walk.

She heard Jodi coming up the stairs. “Hey are you warmed up then? Will you take that stack of games down to the sled?”

Silence.

“Jodi?”

She came out of the bedroom and walked out into the hallway. She didn’t see anyone. Her breathing got fast and ragged and she put her right hand behind her, ready to draw.

“Jodi? Damn it, Jodi, answer me.”

She came close enough to see that the master bedroom door was open again, and Jodi was standing there, staring at the dead couple in the bed.

“Jodi, you scared the shit out of me. You shouldn’t be in here. And don’t fucking ignore me when I call you.”

Jodi turned on her, suddenly furious. “How can you talk like that in here? Don’t you have any respect? This was their house, and they died here, together. I hope they were sealed in the temple.”

Dusty tugged at her sleeve. “Come on, Jodi. Please get out of here. You shouldn’t be around dead bodies, not with the baby.”

“In the celestial kingdom, they will be together forever.” She nodded resolutely, but her eyes were troubled.

“Good. That is great for them. Let’s please get out of here, ok?”

Jodi turned away and left the room.

“You should try the last door on the right there for clothes,” Dusty said.

“I don’t think we should take anything,” Jodi said, turning to her.

“What?”

“This isn’t ours to take. It belongs to someone.”

Dusty was baffled. “They’re dead. Dead people don’t own anything. We’re living and we need it. I don’t think they’d mind, but even if they did, they’re dead. One more time. Dead. Most of the people in the world, dead. We’re gonna take what we need.”

“Not me. My clothes are fine. I’m not taking anything.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, please.” Jodi’s mouth was a thin line of disapproval.

For a white hot second, Dusty wished she had continued the illusion that she was a man. She could have cowed Jodi into shutting up if she had that authority. As it was, they were going to have to wrestle it out. She took a deep breath.

“Alright. Your choice. Don’t take anything. I’m going to load up and then we’re out of here. We’ll leave the other houses for another day.”

She pushed past Jodi, picked up the games, and headed down the stairs.

“Wait!”

She turned back on the landing.

“What?”

“We should bury them.”

Dusty turned her back and kept walking downstairs. “You bury them. I’ll wait.”

She loaded up the sled, pretending to not pay attention. She had an ear cocked, waiting to hear if Jodi actually tried to get the bodies out of the bed. She stacked up the games and threw down her backpack. She didn’t hear the thumps of bodies. What she heard was Jodi vomiting.

She came down the stairs, pale and shaking, wiping her mouth.

“You good?”

“Whatever.”

Jodi sat down by the fire again.

“Exactly.” Dusty stalked back into the kitchen. She looked over the shelves. To herself, she muttered, “I wonder if I can make cake without fresh eggs.”

“You can.”

Jodi had come quietly to the kitchen door. Dusty turned around to face her.

“There’s tricks. I learned how as a girl scout.”

So domestic. I’d be annoyed except that I benefit from it.

“Ok. I’m gonna grab some cake mixes, then. Cake sounds good. What do you say?”

“I guess it’s ok.”

“Good.” She grabbed three boxes of mix and tucked them under her arm.

Quietly, Jodi came into the pantry and started picking out cans. Dusty didn’t say anything about her sudden reversal of morals. She didn’t want to fight. She wanted to get loaded up and get back on the road.

“You warmed up enough to go back out there?”

Jodi pouted a little. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just stay here?”

“It’s early afternoon. We can totally make it back. Come on.” She went back to the sled and stacked up the cake mixes, flat on their side. “There’s lots of food here. We should remember and come back if we start to run low.”

Jodi came up behind her and put her canned goods on the sled. “How long are you planning to stay in Eden?”

“I want to wait out the winter before I move on. If I’d known it snowed like this in Utah, I might have stayed somewhere else.”

Jodi laughed a little. “I’m from Ogden. I haven’t seen snow like this, ever. Not in my whole life. This is like the worst winter I’ve ever seen.”

“Perfect timing, then.”

“Yeah. Totally.”

The fire had died down. Dusty considered shoveling the ashes out, then decided not to bother. They closed up the house and left it unlocked, then set out to return. Dusty got ahead, dragging the sled slightly behind. They kept to their earlier tracks, and Dusty thought about the trail they had left. She deliberately walked into the snow that kept their paths separate and mussed them together. She didn’t want anyone to be able to tell that two had come and gone. Indeterminate tracks were better than an exact number. When she looked behind them, she saw a long churned-up track that might have been made by anything at all. She thought about laying the warm gun in the snow beside her, just for a moment, so that anyone who followed their tracks would see the impression of it. She dismissed the idea as stupid, but she felt uncomfortably exposed.

She needn’t have worried. It started to snow again before they got halfway home.

Dusty looked at Jodi as the house came into view. Snowflakes lay thick on her red-gold eyelashes. One or two lit on her pink lips and melted there. She caught Dusty looking at her.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

It does no good to tell a beautiful woman how beautiful she is. If she already knows, it gives her power over the fool who tells her. If she does not, there is nothing that can be said to make her believe it. Dusty did not know everything, but she knew that.

“Come on. Let’s get in and build that fire.”