TINY WAS HOLDING COURT IN THE KITCHEN, bare-chested under the white apron, the only way he could cook. “I cook the way I cook, got a problem with that?” was his reply when questioned about it.
“Hot as a mother in here when I get going,” he said, more of an announcement than an invitation to converse. “I think we need to get some sort of fan over this rig,” he said to Chumboy. He was at the far end of the kitchen, turning a full pig on a spit.
“Ever scrawny, that pig,” Chumboy said, pulling up a chair across from Susun.
Tiny said, “What d’ya expect, thing’s been rooting around eating birch bark and moss.”
“Hope it doesn’t end up tasting like birch bark Tiny.”
“Fuck you Chum, I can make anything taste sublime.”
Chumboy looked at Susun. “Your cousin is one touchy fellow. He should consider himself lucky to be cooking in this kitchen. This place used be one fine hotel, was a classy joint back in the day, the old Fraser Hotel.”
She managed a smile but didn’t say anything, just looking at him with those navy blue eyes.
He tried, “So Susie, how’d you sleep? Seems to me you must’ve been at it for a good fourteen hours or so.”
She said she slept okay.
“Well then,” said Chumboy, “now that you’re all rested up, why don’t you tell us your story?”
“Maybe some other time. It’s a long story.”
Chumboy shrugged, “Time is one thing we got here.”
He watched her nod slowly, looking around. She’d said she didn’t remember too much about what had happened, so he’d told her that she’d passed out, told her it was because she’d been eating all that canned boy-are-dee shit for so long. Told her a big slab of roast pig was just what she was needing and she’d lucked out cause that’s just what was on the menu.
“Where’d you get that thing,” she asked, nodding her head towards the pig.
Tiny laughed.
“You wouldn’t believe the things they bring me in here to cook. Christ almighty, the first week here, they dragged in a goddam horse!”
Susun winced but Chumboy said, “Hey, a man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do, but as it turns out, the horse had other ideas. He’s running the logging crew now, sleeps in the back of our workbay.”
“I’ve served some fine meals in this joint,” Tiny told her. “But unfortunately, I gotta rely on these morons. That Slaught bastard, he was supposed to bring me a cow.”
“Hey, come on Tiny, he brought you a family reunion instead.”
“Big fucking deal, can’t eat a family reunion.”
Chumboy refilled her cup with a dark looking tea, nudging her in the back as he passed. “Hey girl, look lively, this is some kind of swell place you’ve landed yourself in. Lot better than that pigsty you came from. Your other ladies seem to like it, settling in just fine.”
“Melinda is just happy to be some place safe with her baby and Mary just wanted a real bed.”
“Ah, come on now,” Chumboy persisted, “so how about this joint, ain’t it special?”
The joint looked like maybe it had seen better days. The kitchen itself was impressive enough, huge stove, lots of stainless steel counter space, but the paint was peeling off the walls and the metal railings along the ramp down into the kitchen were nicked and going from the pale green towards rust. Along the railing, laundry hung drying. Had the feel of some sort of decrepit ship.
“Nice enough set-up,” she said.
“Retrofitted for revolution,” Chumboy responded.
“Revolution? All I see is a bunch of wet long johns and an industrial strength kitchen.”
“Yeah, well get any of us boys in those long johns, then you’ll see industrial strength.”
Susun asked what they all did with their industrial strength, because from the stream of people in and out of the kitchen, it seemed to her that tea drinking was the number one occupation.
“Nice talk from the new guest.” It was Slaught, coming into the kitchen, limping a bit. There were a few welts along the side of his face.
“Guest? More like prisoner,” she said.
“You are one ungrateful lady.”
“Don’t mind her ‘Winterman,’” Chumboy said, winking at Susun, ”she’s just grumpy. Needs some serious beauty sleep, her.”
“Ungrateful?” Susun asked, but Slaught just ignored her, pulled up a chair beside her and said, “Grumpy or not, everyone pulls their weight around here,” starting in on her right away, “and you should think over what it is you want to contribute to our little community. Mary, who I might add has a far better attitude than you, says she is going to fix up the infirmary. The new mother said she’s willing to pitch in as soon as she gets her baby settled. Now you got some skills in that department, so maybe you should get down there and lend a hand.”
She looked across at him, sitting there laughing at her because at first he’d thought maybe she was a doctor, and she’d said, no, she was a midwife. Like a nurse, then? No, a midwife, and he said she better get her certificate up on the wall then because people weren’t going think she was official, and she told him she didn’t have a license to practice midwifery and he said “for fuck’s sake.” She told him that it was the way it used to be, before the government took over and started making rules and restrictions. She was going back to the old ways. Women used to just train each other, told him she’d learned from the daughter of a back to the land type called Mae Mullins. He said that figured, with a name like Susun. She asked what the hell that was supposed to mean, and he said, “I pegged you for some messed up hippie the minute I saw you.”
Now he was sitting there, looking at her expectantly, like he was saying, yeah so what can you do, and it was making her flustered. She figured it was all about her putting the boots to him.
“Are all you revolutionaries celibate?”
Slaught cocked his head, catching Chumboy’s eye. Chumboy just shrugged. Tiny said, “For fuck’s sake Susie, don’t be so goddam belligerent.”
Slaught said, “I was looking for more of a ‘I can clean the toilet’ kind of offer.”
“Listen,” Susun said, “just because it’s the end times doesn’t mean that your ladies can’t get pregnant. You’ll be needing me soon enough, what with all that industrial strength in your long johns and all.”
Ricky had slept through the alarm clock again and had to rush into work. He’d wanted to get up and see the team off, wanted to really badly, but he’d gone and slept in. Figures he could mess up just about anything, least that’s what the Captain was always telling him. Right now, though, the Captain was telling him what a lousy job he’d done in the storage sheds, telling him he was being reassigned to office duty.
“In my office,” he said, like it was a threat. Ricky thought the Captain had a pretty nice office, it had a big couch and everything, but he liked being down in the storage area. People left him alone and he could listen to the radio.
“Is it ’cause of her?”
The Captain, sounding annoyed, asked, “Her? Who?”
“That Miss Black. She hated me.”
Muspar looked at Ricky and said, “No bloody wonder, now move your ass and get upstairs Skinner, before I really lose my patience with you. Police Services cooperates with work support only when you can actually do the work. We’re not a goddam charity.”
When they were on the way up, with Ricky huffing to keep up with the Captain, the Captain turned on the stairs and told Ricky that he was going to have to do some filing for him this afternoon and Ricky said, “Captain, that’s girls’ work,” which made the Captain get mad again and say, “Yeah, well that’s why you’re doing it Skinner.”
Ricky didn’t say anything after that until they got up to the office and the Captain showed him a stack of brown files and Ricky asked, “How do I file these? Haven’t ever done it before.”
“You don’t have to Skinner, I’m keeping it nice and simple for you, just check to make sure every file in this pile has a match on the computer. See, the names are written on them, I’m backing everything up and want to make sure I’ve got everything covered, know what I’m saying?”
Ricky said, “Uh, yeah, I got it.”
“Sure you do, you’ll probably screw it up as soon as I leave.” With that the Captain slammed his big hand down on the biggest pile of folders. “These ones. Right here. Match them to the list right there in the computer. They go by name and number, it’s simple. And when you’re done that, put on a fresh pot of coffee.”
“But doesn’t Miss Saxon do that?”
The Captain stopped in the doorway and turned. Ricky involuntarily took a step back.
“Stop with the damn questions, okay Skinner?”
“Sure thing, Captain.”
Ricky decided to put the coffee on first because there were so many files he thought it would take him all day, and then the Captain would be mad that there was no coffee. He thought that was a good decision and the Captain had told him he couldn’t make a good goddam decision to save his soul. Well, maybe now the Captain would see that he could. Then maybe he’d get to go out on a mission. Or even get posted to one of the border stations, as a watchman or patrol guy or something. That would be the perfect thing, sitting up there at the edge of the City, with a walkie-talkie and those big, heavy flashlights. Then he’d be able to see his Uncle Delbert.
Ricky sure missed his Uncle Delbert. Delbert had moved into their house after Ricky’s dad had run off to Florida with a woman who had rented a cabin down the road where all the fancy cottagers stayed. The woman had a silver motor home and an orange tan. Ricky hadn’t liked her and Uncle Delbert had once called her a whore and told Ricky that word was from the Bible. He had also called his dad a bad seed.
He wondered if he could sit on the couch while he sorted through the files but then decided that was a bad idea. He moved all the files to the extra desk beside the computer and stood as he placed a file down and then checked the list on the computer, making a little check mark on the list like the Captain had shown him when he’d said, “Better show you how to do this or you’ll screw it all up royally.”
Ricky had been at it for over an hour, double-checking everything just to be sure, when he noticed a big file box on the desk beside where he was working. It was labeled “Zone 6.” That was the Territories. That’s where the mission was going, way up to the Territories, up where his Uncle Delbert lived. Where the Wintermen lived.