'Til Death Do Us Part (40 page)

“
Do I smell nuggets?
”
a
voice drifted out from the trailer, the bird looked in that direction then alit from its spot.

John got up before I could stop him.
“
Not only is this nugget…
it is coated with a proprietary blend of hashish oils.
”

I fully expected John to be blown back towards me riddled with buck shot.

“
Well then come on inside,
”
the voice said with a distinctive Southern lilt.

I swore I could hear toe-
strummed banjos playing in the background.

“
My name is
Luke
,
”
a gap-toothed smiling man in his mid-
thirties told us as he held his door wide open. The mullet he
sported
harkened back to the early
‘
80s
,
much like his felt paintings on the walls. There was a whale, an Indian
,
and of course
,
what trailer wouldn
’
t be co
mplete without a smiling tassel-
laden portrait of Elvis smack dab in the center.
“
That there is my wife Mirabelle,
”
Luke
said as he closed the door behind us.

Mirabelle looked the part of an older Sissy Spacek minus any good looks and make-up. But she was smiling almost as broadly as
Luke
and somehow that put me at ease. John seemed perfectly content with our new surroundings. A black dog roughly the size of a standard pony walked over to me
,
took one passing sniff
,
and got up on the couch.

“
Hercules
,
we ha
ve guests now…get off the couch,
”
Mirabelle said to the dog.

Hercule
s looked over at me and growled.
I
’
d had freight
trains pass me by that produced less tremble. He did, however
,
get off the couch.

“
Sit, sit.
”
Mirabelle motioned.

I kept looking over at H
ercules who was mean-
mugging me.

“
What about him?
”
I asked Mirabelle.

“
Hercules? Oh
,
he
’
s fine
. H
e
’
s just a big old teddy bear.
”
She laughed.

If by teddy bear she meant, psychotic, rabid gr
izzly then we were in agreement
,
I thought.

I sat, Hercules growl
ed again—
or a fissu
re had opened up in the earth—
I
figured both would sound the same.

Luke
and John were sitting at the small kitchen table, altern
ating hits on a Jamaica envious-
sized bone.

“
Wowee, that
’
ll make your toes curl and slap a turtle!
”
Luke
said as he leaned back in his chair.

“
That
’
s good stuff
,
right?
Got it from that guy over there,
”
John said
,
pointing at me.

“
Mister
,
you want a hit?
‘
Sidering it
’
s yours and all,
”
Luke
asked.

“
I
’
m good,
”
I told him.

“
You want some possum pie?
”
Mirabelle asked me from the kitchen.

I thought about taking a couple of hits from John
’
s weed, thinking that would be the only way I
would get
strong enough munchies to actually try possum pie.

“
It
’
s not really possum,
”
s
he said when she saw my face.
“
We ain
’
t been able to find them since the zombies came.
”

My stomach was roiling a bit.
I tried my best to cover up its gurgling sound. I changed the subject away from food in the hopes I wouldn
’
t hav
e to pretend I was on some hillbilly
version of
Fear Factor
.
“
Thank you for taking us in.
”

“
It
’
s what God-fearing people do,
”
Mirabelle said.
“
They help other God-fearing people. Are you God-
fearing folk?
”
s
he asked.

“
Um I don
’
t really fear him
per se
. I
s a healthy respect okay?
”
I asked back.

She thought about it for a moment.
“
I s
’
pose that
’
ll do. What brings you folks around this way?
”

“
We
’
re trying to get to John
’
s wife in Philly,
then I
’
m trying to get home,
”
I told her.

“
Without weapons?
”
s
he asked astutely.

“
We
’
ve had a few hardships along the way.
”

“
Fell out of the damn sky!
”
John shouted after taking another hit.

“
Get outta here?
”
Luke
asked incredulously.

“
Unfortunately it
’
s the truth,
”
I told Mirabelle.

“
What is?
”
John asked.

“
You been dealing with him long?
”
s
he asked me.

“
Long enough.
”

“
And he hasn
’
t got you kilt yet?
”

“
I
figure the score is about even.
Every
time he tries to kill me, he saves me.
”

“
Hey
,
Poncho,
Luke
wants to know if you have any of this killer weed you can sell him?
”
John asked me as he started to laugh.

“
Fresh out
, man, check your pockets.
I gave you t
he last of my stuff,
”
I said as I shrugged to Mirabelle.

“
Whoa
,
man!
”
John said as he pulled baggies of stuff out of his many pockets.
“
Thanks
,
Poncho!
”

“
Any time,
”
I told him.
“
Have you been here the entire time?
”
I asked Mirabelle, wondering how a trailer could possibly hold up to a zombie invasion.

“
We have.
”
She looked at me a little guiltily.
“
Our neighbors all either left, were turned
,
or were kilt. We
’
ve been foraging from their stuff.
”

“
There
’
s no shame in that.
”

“
Man what
’
s with the diapers?
”
John asked
Luke
.

“
Smell
of shit keeps the zombies away.
They
think it
’
s more of them and don
’
t want anything to do with us,
”
Luke
answered.

“
That
’
s brilliant,
”
I said.

“
We noticed when the zombies were attacking ou
r
neighbors
that
none really came around here
,
and the only thing we could t
hink was different was Hercules,
”
Mirabelle said.

“
The dog
’
s shits are the size of bread loaves, and I ain
’
t talking those
normal size
d ones either, I mean those fat-
sliced Texas toast ones.
”

I didn
’
t
want to tell him that the Texas-
sized toast referred to the individual size of the slice not the loaf itself
,
but I got the visual anyway.

“
The dog laid those monsters
around the yard like land mines and
the zombies really just kind of ignored us.
It was Mirabelle
’
s idea to string some diapers up around the yard as an added precaution.
”

She blushed a little, w
ell that answered that question—
they didn
’
t have a child.
Better off in this new world…
an
d then I panged for my daughter
and my grandbaby that was on the way. It was a horrible time and place in our history to have a baby
,
but I also couldn
’
t wait to wrap my arms around t
he infant and the new hope he or she
would deliver.

“
You guys ever thought to look for a more secure location?
”
I asked.

“
Why
,
mister?
”
Luke
asked.

“
This is home,”
Mirabelle said.
“
It ain
’
t much, but it
’
s what we know. Our neighbors left us just about everything we need and more.
”

“
Cept for a little of the green,
”
Luke
said
,
swinging a baggie back and forth in front of his face.
“
And since Belle found Jesus I don
’
t need to share.
”

Mirabelle threw a dishtowel at
Luke
’
s head which he had no hopes of dodging.
“
I didn
’
t
‘
find
’
Jesus, he was there all along, waiting for me to
‘
see
’
him,
”
s
he said to her wayward husband.
“
He
’
s a little rough around the edges
,
but he treats me good and I love him.
”

“
My wife would probably say the same thing.
”
I smiled at her.

“
You haven
’
t been home in a while then?
”
s
he asked.

“
Seems like a lifetime ago,
”
I answered vaguely.

“
How bad is it?
”
s
he asked.

“
You were right to stay here, there
’
s no
t much good left,
”
I answered honestly.