With Alice’s help, Zee slowly pulled the cotton dress over her head. Like Dylan had said, she felt much better the next day. Her skin was still pink and there was some scabbing from the broken blisters, but the aloe pulled much of the sting and the heat out of it and she seemed to be healing nicely. Also, from slowly drinking the water as much as she could, her headache had finally disappeared. Like all of my memories, she thought as Alice took a step back to see how well the dress fit Zee.
“That doesn’t look too bad, though it’s more of a night-dress for sleeping, but I wanted something that wouldn’t rub on your legs too much.” Alice picked up the burlap sack that was wadded on the floor at Zee’s feet. Who would ever wear such a thing? Zee wondered if it was by choice or force that she was found wearing that as an outfit.
Today, Alice was in a long, flowing skirt that skimmed the top of her sandals. Alice rubbed her tan arms, looking deep in thought at Zee. Gently, Alice finger-combed through Zee’s messy hair. “I’ve never seen a woman with short hair before,” Alice admitted as she attempted to tame Zee’s short and wild hair. “Not that that’s a bad look,” she quickly added after Zee wrinkled up her nose at the observation. “Just until we know how you ended up in the desert, I would rather not have you stand out. I will find you a bandana to wear until your hair grows longer.”
Alice walked across the room to the small dresser against the wall, and began rummaging through a drawer. “Here.” She crossed back to Zee with a small red cloth in her hand. “We should probably come up with a back story in case anyone asks questions,” Alice said, more to herself. She chewed on her nail and scrunched up her eyes as she thought, while Zee tied the bandana over her short hair.
“I can remember the steam from a steam wagon. Maybe I used to work on one,” Zee offered up.
“Hmmm,” Alice bit her lip, adjusting the bandana. “Usually the only women on the steam wagons are prostitutes, but there’s nothing wrong with that. I just want to make you aware.”
Zee thought for a moment. A man’s body didn’t seem familiar to her. She doubted she ever had to pleasure one for goods. “I don’t think that’s what I did. Women don’t unload the steam wagons?”
“No. We generally run the shops, or take care of the homes.”
“I feel like I am strong though.” Zee flexed the muscles of her bare arms with a smile.
Alice laughed, throwing her head back. “I didn’t say a woman couldn’t be strong. We’re just not allowed to help unload the steam wagons.”
“I don’t think I like that,” Zee admitted, staring down at her bare, pink feet.
Alice leaned in to whisper, “You can say stuff like that to me or Dylan, but keep opinions like that to yourself outside of our cabin.” Alice look frightened. Zee just nodded. She didn’t want to bring trouble to her rescuers.
“Maybe you should come up with my story. It seems I don’t even recall how to act…normal.” Zee felt so out of place. How could she not know anything? It was as if something sucked all of her memories and knowledge out of her mind, and all she was left with were inappropriate opinions. “Maybe that’s how I ended up in the desert,” she offered up.
Alice smiled reassuringly at her. “I’m sure one day we will uncover your past. But for now…you’re a family friend from Sand Haven, the next town over. Your family couldn’t afford you anymore and there weren’t any suitors that you liked…so you came here.”
“Sounds easy enough,” Zee admitted with a shrug.
Alice looked down at Zee’s bare feet and sighed. “You’re feet look small. I don’t know if I will have sandals that fit you.”
Zee looked down at her pink feet. The tops were sore from the sun, but the bottoms felt to be made of leather. “I think I always walk around barefoot.”
“I don’t know,” Alice said, wrinkling up her brow. “The sand gets pretty hot.”
After thinking for a moment, Zee said, “We can see how it goes. If I have to come back inside until you can find me sandals, I don’t mind getting some more rest.”
“You shouldn’t stay out in the sun too long today anyways,” Alice said. “You don’t want to dehydrate again.”
Zee nodded in agreement, happy to finally be free of the terrible headaches she had before being rescued. She hoped that she would never be dehydrated again. Or sun-burnt.
Alice shepherded Zee down the stairs from the upper bedroom. The flat wood panels creaked with each step. Zee took in the smell of dry wood around her from the cabin. The room at the bottom of the stairs opened up into a kitchen and sitting area. A stone hearth opened up at the end of the room, with a cauldron floating over the iron grates that held the firewood up off the stone floor. Zee could imagine Alice spending her nights down here, sitting in one of the wooden chairs, enjoying the heat of the small fire once the heat of the day leaked out from the absence of the sun. A wooden loom crouched in the far corner like a giant spider web. A pile of white cloth was neatly folded next to the loom. Zee wondered if Alice was making the cloth for herself or if she had a quota to fill. She supposed that she would find out soon enough.
The front door creaked open at Alice’s push, letting the bright morning sun inside the cabin. Dust motes swirled in a dance in front of them. Zee smiled at their sparkling beauty. The women stepped off of the small porch and into the dust of the desert. Alice pointed to the west.
“The town is just a half mile walk. We were fortunate to have a home just outside of the town. There’s more privacy that way.” Alice pushed her long brown braid over her shoulder, and they walked towards the town she had pointed out. It rose up out of the desert—an ugly scar on the horizon.
The sand was smooth on Zee’s feet and warm, but not yet hot. It spilled through her toes with each step. Memories of her plight through the desert swam in her mind, and a slight anxiety took over. Breathing deep, Zee pushed the memory aside. She was safe now.
The warm sun wrapped the women like a hot blanket. It wasn’t yet close to mid-day, but the temperature was steadily rising. It was easily already in the upper eighties. Sweat beaded on Zee’s forehead. She wished she didn’t have to wear the bandana, but she couldn’t afford unwanted attention, especially since she didn’t know if she was running from anyone. She just hoped that her memory would be jogged soon.
People littered the streets before them, moving in different directions like lines of ants busy with their work. Zee stared at them with wide eyes, afraid to be swept up in one of the lines. Alice took her gently by the arm and led her down a side-street and into a tall building. Zee’s eyes were still adjusting to the dark when she heard a familiar voice.
“You look much better today.” Dylan was behind a bar, washing wooden cups. He brushed his shaggy brown hair off of his forehead as he studied the two women.
“I’m still pink,” Zee said with a small curtsy, pulling out the hem of her skirt in a flourish. She looked around at the small empty tables. “Is this your bar?”
“Yes.” Dylan smiled brightly at Zee. His good mood was intoxicating and Zee found her spirits soaring.
“Hey!” Alice butt in with a laugh.
“Well…Alice owns it, too. We sell drinks and goods. And rent rooms upstairs to travelers.”
Zee looked around nervously. She didn’t like the idea of strangers being upstairs. What if there was someone looking for her? Who would be looking for me? Zee mused. She was probably presumed to be dead. In fact, she almost did die. If Alice and Dylan didn’t find her when they did, Zee would not have made it out of the desert. Zee stared Death in the face, but was able to walk away. She wondered if there was a good reason for that, or if she was just fortunate.
A high shelf running around the room caught Zee’s eye. It was littered with what looked like artifacts: glass jars, plastic containers, bunches of colorful wires bound together, small metal boxes.
“What is all this?” She asked, pointing to the clutter.
“Dylan’s a bit of a collector,” Alice explained with a weary smile. “I think our dad rubbed off on him too much. Dad liked finding stuff from the old world.”
“The old world?” Zee looked up at the trinkets with amazement. She was amazed at the volume of his collection. It must have taken years to find all of it.
“Yeah,” Dylan put down the cup he was washing on top of a growing pyramid of drink-ware. “Before the bombs went off. Some of it survived.” Alice gave her brother a cautionary glance. Zee wondered if such a collection bordered on the edge of being forbidden. “What brings you two here?” Dylan scanned Zee with his piercing blue eyes. Her heart fluttered in her chest. She glanced back to the shelf to avoid his gaze.
“I figured you could show Zee how to run the bar so you don’t have to close down when you leave to unload the steam wagon today. Besides, I only have one loom and you know Pierce will skin us if that cloth isn’t to his standards.” Alice held Dylan’s gaze with a fierce stare. Zee didn’t want to ask if Alice was exaggerating about being skinned or not. She had the unfortunate feeling that it was the truth.
How could people live in such constant fear? Zee’s breath caught in her throat. Something felt familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
“What?” Dylan asked, noticing the change in her expression. His brows furrowed in concern as he watched the fear spread across Zee’s face.
Alice put her warm hands lightly on Zee’s shoulder, surveying her with her brown eyes. “Do you remember something?” Her question was barely a whisper as it slipped across her lips.
The short hairs suddenly stood up on Zee’s neck. “He is coming.”