Naomi buried her daughter on a soft summer day in late May, though she didn’t think of it that way. Life, she had learned, was a mind game. What you thought you couldn’t bear, you could. All you had to do was look at it from a different perspective.
So she didn’t bury Macy’s fragile corpse in the cold, dark, suffocating ground; she tucked her into the warm, cradling arms of Mother Earth, surrounded by friends who had become family, supported by her living, breathing daughter. The surging, flaming life that was Piper warmed and comforted her as she took the awful and necessary step.
She had invited those people from the community she felt closest to: Martin and Grace; her old neighbor, Ed, who had arrived in Woodland Park just a few days after their return, accompanied by a scruffy mutt he called “Rosemary;” Rowan, Ignacio, Jack, and after some internal back-and-forth, Verity. All of them had come, bringing specially prepared food. Even Verity had brought a remarkably delicious and beautiful salad of mixed baby greens and edible spring flowers. Naomi had cleaned and polished the cabin and had decorated with whatever she could find and transform into something festive. She was determined that this celebration of her daughter’s life would be as vibrant and beautiful as Macy had been. So old wrapping paper bloomed into garlands and wreaths, pine cones were scented with cinnamon and displayed in pretty baskets, and spring flowers were harvested for miles around to be arranged in sparkling jars and pretty glasses. She had a few photos of Macy here at the cabin, and these were lovingly displayed on the mantle.
The night before, Piper had helped her lift Macy’s body onto a fresh sheet, one she’d brought from the house years ago, printed with brightly-colored unicorns and rainbows. At home, Macy had graduated to bedding more suitable for a serious cowgirl, with realistic horses and lassos, but she’d never outgrown her love of these soft, whimsical sheets. For the last time, Naomi carefully combed out her bright hair, braiding it and tying ribbons that matched the cheerful colors of the shroud, clipping the prettiest braid to keep. Finally, she neatly stitched the sheet closed around Macy, tears flowing to blur her work and dampen the material. Piper sat beside her until the task was finished, reaching out occasionally to pat her sister or adjust a wrinkle in the sheet for her mother.
They kept vigil by Macy’s body through the night, arms wrapped around each other, speaking occasionally of favorite memories, letting tears come when they would, remembering Scott as well. Naomi was sure she felt both of her lost ones just before dawn, when Piper had fallen into a doze. She had closed her eyes, reveling in their presence, almost able to hear their voices. They had faded, together, just as the sky outside the cabin was warming with the dawn, leaving Naomi filled with grief and peace.
Martin and Hades had helped her dig the grave under Naomi’s favorite pine tree on the ridge, and Grace and Piper had lined it with blankets, creating a soft nest. The girls had talked quietly throughout the process, discussing burial rituals from other cultures, analyzing the underlying social implications of sky burials versus cremation, and Naomi’s heart had filled to bursting with love for these two brilliant young women, finding in their intellectual discussion support and defense of her choices, reassurance that she wasn’t any more crazy than the next bereaved mother.
Not one person she’d invited had expressed surprise or dismay when she carried Macy’s shrouded body from the cabin herself; she was certain she had Piper to thank for preparing the way there. Her daughter had steadied her on one side, Martin on the other, and once at the gravesite, Ignacio had helped her take the last steps and lower Macy’s body into the Earth. Ed had shared some memories, then Rowan. Finally, Jack had offered some verses from the Bible and a short sermon. Though his exact words were lost on Naomi, the cadence of his voice comforted her.
Now, hours after the gathering at Macy’s graveside, after they had all worked together to carefully cover Macy in Earth, tender handful by handful, after they had eaten together and honored the passage of her lovely girl, Naomi watched the group from the cabin window. She had cleared away the dishes from their feast so the others could enjoy a board game on the picnic table outside, and she stole these moments of solitude to just breathe and observe.
Pictionary was the game, and the teams made her smile in amusement. In the time before, these people would probably never have met, much less gotten to know each other. Now she watched as Piper and Grace bickered over Piper’s painstakingly slow drawing method; as Ignacio and Rowan quietly and competently won round after round; as Ed laughed good-naturedly over Martin’s inability to draw even a stick figure recognizably. Verity had set herself up as keeper of the timer, as well as judge and jury when disputes occurred. Only Jack didn’t actively participate. Seated a few feet away in a wooden lounge chair, he looked over at the action occasionally and smiled, but more often than not, his attention was fixed on some distant point, over the lake and far, far away.
Layla’s death appeared to have changed Jack profoundly. He was softer and stronger, broken and at peace in a way Naomi had never known him to be. Unlike most of the rest of the community, he hadn’t relocated to a place on one of the eight Carrol Lakes, though there were other exceptions. What had once been one scattered community was evolving into two smaller, tighter ones. Ignacio remained on his ranch with his family, which now included young Quinn and baby Lark, and a significant number of the survivors had moved to cluster near his place. Verity stayed with her greenhouses. Martin and Grace had claimed a cabin just a little way down the shoreline from Naomi, though they hadn’t moved yet. And although the community center had shifted to one of the large houses on Aspen Lake, Jack stayed on at the empty church. Naomi suspected he wanted to be close to Layla, something she understood all too well. He continued to offer his leadership to the community, continued to work with their youth, but his heart of hearts had left them when Layla died.
Beside her, Hades rested with his head on his paws, eyes closed, though she could feel he wasn’t sleeping. The big dog hadn’t left her side for a single moment today, watching her with adoring, worried eyes, pressing close to warm her when grief wrapped cold arms around her. By contrast, Persephone had attached herself to Grace, much to Martin’s dismay. He had managed to coax her into his arms a time or two, but only for a few moments. Then her sturdy little golden body would squirm to get down, and she’d scamper to Grace’s side, ears perked adorably. She was curled in Grace’s lap even now, dozing while the game raged on around her.
After a particularly boisterous round, Martin rose to his feet. Through the open window, Naomi heard him appeal to Jack to take his place. “Ed deserves better – you’re a man of God – have some mercy!” Jack capitulated, and Martin headed towards the cabin, joining her inside moments later. He came to stand by her at the window, his shoulder just brushing hers.
“You okay?”
“I am.” She turned her head to smile at him. “I really am.”
He leaned into her shoulder for a moment and smiled back. “Good.”
They watched the group for a while, both of them snorting with laughter when Verity leaned over to press her palm to Piper’s head, causing her pencil to fly with speed and precision over the notepad. Grace shrieked “Mount Rushmore!” and both girls leaped into the air, fists raised in celebration of their first victory while the rest of the players voiced their protests to the serene and unapologetic Verity.
“Is it cheating, if angels are involved?” Martin asked.
“That’s a Jack question, though I doubt he’d
appreciate you asking it.” Naomi walked away from the window. “I’ll
brew some tea and take them out some cookies.”
“Nothing like some of your cookies to settle a dispute.” Martin
moved to help her, filling the kettle and hanging it over the low
coals in the fireplace while Naomi arranged cookies on her
prettiest tray. She plucked the flowers that hadn’t been eaten from
Verity’s salad, tucking them in among the cookies, then looked up
to find Martin watching her.
“I know it’s been a hard day, but it seems like you’re enjoying yourself, too.”
“I am. It feels good to host people again, to have a gathering and have things all special and nice.” She fussed with the cookies, feeling suddenly shy. “It must seem frivolous and ridiculous. But Macy would have loved this. She and I had so much fun, planning and preparing for her birthday parties every year. She always picked the theme, and we’d make decorations, prepare special foods, the whole deal. This is the perfect way to remember her.”
“It doesn’t seem either frivolous or ridiculous,” Martin said gruffly. “Why do you always think you know what I’m thinking?” He was quiet for a moment. “Why did you finally decide to do this?”
Naomi looked up and met his gaze. “I’m not sure if I can put it into words. I needed Macy with me, where I could see her and touch her, before Piper came home. I knew people would think I was nuts, if they knew, and I really didn’t care.”
“I knew, and I didn’t think you were nuts.” Martin adjusted the kettle to a lower height over the coals and stared at the rising steam as he went on. “People do what they need to do. When my wife and son died, I was so scared of seeing their bodies…change…I buried them as fast as I could. The ground was still frozen solid, and I was out there, pouring boiling water on it so I could hack a hole deep enough.”
Naomi felt the tug of his sad memories in her own heart, not at all surprised that he had known about Macy, not needing to ask him how. She drifted back to the window, where the game had segued into a drawing lesson, delivered by Ignacio. Naomi smiled, watching his quick brown hands dance over the sketch pad as competently as they handled horses. He turned the pad around, and both Rowan and Grace grinned in delight, Rowan exclaiming, “It’s us! How did you do that, with just a few lines?”
Ignacio bent to show them, and as Martin joined her, she found the words to answer his question. “I buried her for Piper’s sake. Not because it was freaking her out – though it was.”
She smiled for a moment, then let the smile fade. She went on slowly, feeling the importance of her words, for herself as well as for Martin. Grace’s secrets weighed heavily in her heart, and she dreaded the day he would need to learn this for himself. “I buried her because I needed to show Piper that you can let go of the past and go on. That it’s our job to let go and go on, and remember the people we loved and lost. If I can let go of someone I loved so much, she can let go of the hate she’s feeling. She can let go of that man, and what he did to her. I felt like I needed to show her the way.”
Martin’s warm hand captured her wrist, then slid down until his fingers laced with hers. Together, they watched the people that had become family to both of them enjoy the beautiful May warmth and each other’s company. Naomi felt a space inside her chest relax and open, a warmth alongside the ever-present ache of loss. What an amazing thing the human heart was, able to heal and grow and love from the ashes of heartbreak. These people had become so beloved by her, a feeling that was only enriched by the sure knowledge of how fragile and fleeting life could be.
Martin made a thoughtful sound. “Jack is a thousand miles away. He’s been like that all day; have you noticed?”
“I had noticed, yes. He’s missing Layla.” She pressed her hand over the protective amulet her friend had given her, which would always hang around her neck now. Macy’s bright braid was coiled inside, next to the stones and herbs Layla had chosen for her protection. “We’re all missing her. She left a space no one else can fill, and it feels unbalanced and strange, without her.”
“I know what you mean, but it’s more than that.” His sharp eyes didn’t leave Jack. “I get the feeling he’s thinking of leaving. He hasn’t said anything, and he’s not shirking or anything like that, but he’s making sure others are in place to back him up, you know what I mean?”
“Mmm. I do.”
But it wasn’t the distance she, too, could already feel growing between Jack and the rest of them that concerned her. It was the far-away drift of her own daughter’s gaze.
Martin’s suspicions about Jack were confirmed less than a week later, when word buzzed through the community that he would, indeed, be leaving. Ed brought the news when he came to help move Martin and Grace to the cabin near Naomi. He arrived bright and early with Ben hitched to a small wagon, which was loaded with supplies and a few sentimental belongings from the house Martin had shared with his small family. Naomi went out to nuzzle and love on Ben while Martin and the girls started ferrying loads into the cabin she’d been scrubbing since dawn.
Ed leaned on the side of the wagon, lifting his grubby baseball cap to swipe at his forehead. It was unseasonably warm for the end of May, and Jose, their weather forecaster with the “intuitive knee,” was predicting a hot, dry summer. “Jack told the kids first, as I understand it, yesterday afternoon. He didn’t want them to hear it from anybody but him and wanted to answer all their questions, James said.”
When he’d arrived from the Springs, Ed had been invited to share living quarters with James, one of Jack’s youth group kids from the time before, and James’ dad. The three of them now lived near Ignacio’s ranch, and the fit seemed to be a good one. It was a toss-up as to which one of the three adored Rosemary, Ed’s scruffy side-kick, more. Her affection wasn’t in question, though. Even now, she sat at Ed’s feet, panting and gazing up at him with worship in her snappy brown eyes. Ed let his hand drop to her head, absently ruffling her spiky ears. He waved Martin over to join them, then went on.
“From what James said, Jack has a younger sister he lost touch with years ago, well before the plague. He told the kids that losing Layla made him realize how precious people are and how quickly they can leave us. He needs to try to find her. Told the kids he didn’t stand by her when he should have, and he needs to ask her forgiveness.”
Martin frowned. “Where is she? Does he have any idea?”
“They grew up in Wisconsin, but last he knew, she was somewhere in Michigan. Ran away from home when she was just a teenager, he said.” Ed shook his head, and smiled crookedly. “And this is where it would have sounded weird, a year or so ago. Jack said she was always trying to tell people she could see ghosts. When she was younger, their folks would get after her for lying and telling tales. But she kept insisting, and as she got older, she started to act out. Drugs, alcohol, and the like. James said Jack cried when he told them this part. Said he felt responsible for not believing her, for not helping her, when she must have felt so scared and alone. Said he believed her now, and he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t try to find her and tell her so.”
Martin spoke again, his mind as always going to the practical needs rather than the emotional aspects of Jack’s story. “When is he planning to go, did he say? Naomi and I were supplied for a much longer trip when we left here, and he’s welcome to whatever of our supplies he can use. Is he going alone?”
“I’m not sure. James didn’t say. Making such a long trip alone would be difficult as well as dangerous, though. He’s not a fool, from what I gather. I imagine he’ll look for someone willing to travel with him.”
Cold fingers danced down Naomi’s spine, and she frowned, unsettled by the warning. “This could trigger an exodus,” she said. “So many people have lost touch with far-away family and loved ones.” She looked at Martin. “It feels like everything is about to change again.”
He nodded. “It does.” He turned his gaze to Pikes Peak, where snow still lingered in spite of the warm spring. “He’s not going to want to delay; that’s a journey of 1,200 or so miles. On horseback, riding steady, that’s at least two or three months, maybe more, depending on water sources. He might be smarter to try for abandoned vehicles, once he’s well past the Springs, if he can get them to start after this long.”
Ed nodded, and they fell into a discussion of the practical considerations that Naomi only half-listened to. Why the chill down her spine? Cold foreboding was creeping along the edges of her heart, and she didn’t understand why. Ben whuffed and butted her gently in the chest, and she took a moment to connect with him and steady herself. His great and generous heart, as always, filled her with wonder even as it calmed her. She leaned into his side, breathing in his dusty scent and absorbing his strength until the girls had emptied the wagon and Ed was ready to go. After she had waved them on their way, she spent the rest of the day helping Martin and Grace settle into their new home.
She made up beds for both of them with sheets she’d freshened on the clothesline, and gathered fresh flowers for both their bedside tables. She had brought over some of Macy’s books for Grace, stacking those on her bedside table as well – Harry Potter and Anne of Green Gables were good companions, no matter how mature and brilliant you were. Grace’s tiny, real smile told her she’d hit the mark, and even Martin seemed to genuinely appreciate her homey touches, though he faked a giant sneeze when he saw the flowers she’d put by his bed. All four of them sat down to a celebratory dinner of vegetable and rabbit soup – the rabbit supplied by Hades, a feat he’d been rapturous over. After dinner, she and Piper left the pair to settle in, walking home in the chilly spring twilight.
By unspoken agreement, they went the long way, strolling along the edge of the lake. Loki the raven shadowed their steps, flitting from tree to tree and croaking occasionally to remind them he was there and to annoy Hades. Persephone had stayed with Grace, a shift in allegiance that was so obvious and so right, Naomi couldn’t feel sad about it. Persephone had always gravitated to those that needed her most – first Martin, and now his daughter. Besides, as much time as they all spent together, Naomi would hardly have time to miss her tiny golden self.
A stiffening breeze stirred soft ruffles on the water’s surface; the weather was changing, Naomi was sure, but she was reluctant to go inside just yet. Piper had been uncharacteristically quiet all day. The news of Jack’s departure had made her frown thoughtfully, and Naomi had caught the same frown on her face over and over as the day went on. It was there now, as they stood on the edge of the lake together, arms linked.
As Naomi watched, Piper reached up to brush at the center of her chest, and the question Naomi had been wanting to ask for a long time left her lips. “Why do you do that? Does it have to do with the bond-lines you can see?”
Piper’s lips tightened, and she didn’t answer right away. Just when Naomi thought she wouldn’t answer at all, Piper took a deep breath. “Brody is still connected to me,” she said with sharp quickness, as if she were ripping a bandage off a wound. “And I don’t know why. I can’t get the bond to go away.”
Just like that, the tranquility of the evening evaporated like steam in the heat of Naomi’s rage. Beside her, Hades surged with aggressive movement, chest swelling as he bristled to his full height. He barked once sharply, before subsiding into a growl that rose and fell in rumbling menace. Loki screeched a grating alarm and flew off, disappearing into the gathering dusk. Piper swung startled eyes to her mother, and Naomi’s lips curled in a snarl.
“I should have killed him when I had the chance.”
“Mom, no.” Piper turned to face her, gathering their hands together in a bouquet of fingers she clutched over her heart. “Mom, no matter what, I don’t want that.” She gazed at Naomi as if weighing a great decision, then spoke words that Naomi would never be able to forget. “I killed a man. In cold blood. I executed him.”
Naomi’s first reaction was denial. “No, you didn’t. You couldn’t have. It’s not in you, to do that.”
“It is in me. And at the time, I was not sorry. Not at all.”
Piper’s face was tight with both fear and defiance, and Naomi recognized the look from a thousand confrontations when she’d been younger: Piper would make an announcement designed to hurt or shock her mother, dropping her words like bombs, then wait with both glee and fear to see what the results would be. Until this moment, Naomi had never understood it. Of all the things she and Piper had struggled with, this had been the hardest. Now, Naomi saw through the defiance to the desperate need for reassurance. Piper needed to know that no matter what she said or did, she would be loved. Naomi’s heart cracked at the realization; how could she not have seen this years ago?
Tears stung her eyes as she lifted her hands to Piper’s cheeks, cradling her face and leaning to kiss her forehead and nose, just like she’d done when Piper was a prickly, independent little girl. “No matter what happened, I love you. It might frighten me, and I might wish it had been different, but not one thing you’ve done can change my love for you. Not ever.”
“Mama.” Piper sobbed once, and leaned to press her forehead to Naomi’s. They stayed like that until Piper leaned back, wiping her cheeks. She began to talk, telling the story in a flat voice, not trying to justify or rationalize, explaining the decision she’d come to, the actions she’d taken, and the unexpected results. Her eyes held echoes of the desperation she’d felt when she turned to look at Naomi. “It makes me sick, to remember. I saw all of his bond-lines snuff out, even before he was dead. And he knew it, Mama. He knew how alone he was, and he was so scared. I did that to him. It was worse than putting that gun to his head and pulling the trigger.”
She gazed out over the lake, where the setting sun painted the rippling water orange and pink. “We’re not made to be alone,” she said. “Humans need each other, in so many different ways. But what we haven’t figured out yet is that when we hurt each other, we hurt ourselves. Literally, Mom. Killing Josh killed a part of me.”
Piper turned to look at her, and Naomi recognized the stubborn set of her face. Her daughter was drawing a line, and she would not be moved from it. “I won’t have that for you. No matter what, I won’t let you kill Brody for me. I’m telling you right here and now that it would hurt me worse than anything I can imagine, what that would do to you. Because I know, Mom. And I will never be able to forget.”
Naomi tried to keep her voice calm, in spite of her racing heart. So much easier, to feel that killing rage instead of the cold terror that gripped her now. “The bond – does it tell you how close he is, or where?”
Piper’s eyes turned to the south-east. “He’s in Colorado Springs, I’m pretty sure. He moves around some, but it feels like he’s got a home base.” Her eyes went unfocused. “Maybe in the southern part of the city, which makes sense. He’d be interested in getting his hands on whatever’s left of the supplies and munitions on Fort Carson.”
“Okay. All right.” Naomi forced the chaos of her thoughts into order. “We need to leave, then. We need to put distance between you and him. We can talk to Ignacio, see if we can take Ben and maybe Pasha, and –”
“Mom.”
And that was when Naomi knew. All of it came together, like one of the puzzles Grace talked about: the cold foreboding, her daughter’s far-away gaze, the sense that change was upon them. Piper turned to gather up her hands, and spoke the words Naomi already knew she was going to say.
“When Jack leaves, I’m going with him.”