Thirty-Nine

Reggie was with them for three weeks, and though he was helpful and kind and resourceful, he was rarely actually there. Even when they gathered together for dinner or to play with the children, he had the air of a man whose heart was elsewhere. He was silent and often seemed to be lost in thought. Colleen knew why—they’d shared their stories—but she was still surprised when he told her that he was leaving.

They were alone. Everyone had gone to bed, everyone but Colleen, who didn’t get all that much sleep these days. He’d crept out of the room that still contained Evie’s sewing machine and seen her sitting on the couch, trying to work her way through Sally’s copy of Lolita.

“Are you sure?” She asked.

“I am,” he said.

“Damn.”

“Look—I’m not stupid, okay? I know I probably won’t get there, and if I do get there, I know what I’m gonna find. It’s just something… something I have to do.”

“Wish you didn’t,” she said. “Soon?”

“As soon as the sun comes up.”

“Damn.”

The sun rose and he loaded up his truck, taking only his own guns and several boxes of compatible ammunition from Huff’s enormous stash. They all hugged and waved. They asked him to stay and he told them he wanted to, he couldn’t, and he would be back, if at all possible.

Unable to turn around, he backed the big truck down the hill. He blew his horn and was gone.

“God,” Sally said, on the third morning after Reggie’s departure. The night before, the sky had flickered orange in the south, and they’d feared a raging, lightning-born forest fire. Now, staring into the leaden sky, their fears were greater.

Colleen walked over to the park bench and ran a finger through the fine layer of ash that coated its surface.

“Is that radioactive?” Sally asked, wrapping her arms around herself. “Do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Colleen said. She smiled, shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out.”

“We should probably get inside.”

Colleen followed Sally into the house. She stepped into the living room, closing the door behind her, and looking around, feeling lost.

David walked out of the nursery. He looked up at her, a smile erupting across his face.

“Mama Colleen,” he said, rushing toward her and throwing himself into her arms. “Wanna play with me?”

She held him close, pressed her face to his curly yellow locks. “Sure.”