Chapter 12
"We got ourselves a regular hootenanny in the making," said Gus the next afternoon as he strung up yet another crepe paper star. "Hand me a tack," he called down the ladder.
Mother had come into the barn to check on the progress and couldn't believe what she saw. The entire place was decorated with rolls of crepe paper and a hodgepodge of colorful crepe paper stars. They'd even decorated the posts and cross slats of Phil's stall, and the bull stood licking the salty dyed paper. Mother didn't think it would hurt him, and he seemed very content with his new snack. She handed Gus one of the tacks from the box on the ladder rung and gave him a smile. "Boy, you guys are really going all out, eh?"
"No half-assin' it for this crew. We are the official decorations committee, don't you know." He said the last bit in a haughty voice that mimicked Marissa, the elderly woman who put herself in charge of overseeing the party planning, and Mother snorted.
"Well, lah dee dah. And here I was thinking I was talking to regular folk."
Gus beamed down at her, a twinkle in his eye, and Mother was once again very pleased with her decision to hold the party. All of the citizens had a bounce in their step and a buzz of excitement almost pulsed with electricity at the morning breakfast.
"You're doing a great job, Gus," she said in sincerity.
"We aim to please, ma'am." He went back to hanging stars, and Mother moved on to the snack table. Several people were unloading boxes of chips and cookies they'd found on the raid, and she took a bag of sour cream and onion chips and looked at the date. She shook her head. "Jesus these things have a long shelf life." The chips didn't go out of code for another month. "They were made when? Probably last August?"
"Makes you wonder just what the hell the 'preservatives' they list in the ingredients are," said Denise as she unpacked some boxes of cookies. "You really want your mind blown? Here." She tossed a box of cookies to Mother. "Check that out."
"December?"
Denise nodded. "Makes you sick to think about, doesn't it?"
Mother had to grin. "Yeah, but boy do they taste good!"
Denise threw her head back and laughed. "You said it, sister!"
Mother moved on, looking over the beverage table. She didn't bring out the alcohol yet, and wouldn't until the party started. She needed to feel in control of it, and with everyone scattered far and wide while they prepared for the party, she didn't want anyone dipping into the supply early. She and Wolf would bring out the two cases of hard liquor and the four cases of beer she decided to allow for the party after she made her opening speech and the music began.
Cora had eaten breakfast that morning, and kept it down. As she ate, Mother told her about the party plans and asked if she felt up to making an appearance. "Steve found you a wheel chair." Cora had declined, but Mother promised to open the window if it was a warm enough evening so she could hear the music. Cora had eaten and fallen asleep without morphine, and Mother truly felt the woman would make it. One less leg, but more complete in the ways that mattered.
The raiding mission for party supplies and snacks had been a resounding success. There were party hats and blowers, poppers and small fireworks. Striker had rigged up a stereo and big speakers, and was downloading music from the internet for the night's festivities as the unofficial DJ. Wolf and Mack were setting up a port-a-potty outside. When they had first pulled up dragging it on a trailer behind the jeep, Mother thought it was ridiculous.
"I don't want a bunch of drunks in the house," Wolf said when Mother pulled him aside.
"They're not drunks, their our friends."
"No, they're your citizens." When Mother opened her mouth to protest further, Wolf shut her up with one astute observation. "Think of Cora. You think she wants to hear a parade of drunk assholes thumping through the halls all night?"
That did it, and Mother gave her permission as Wolf knew she would. Mack knew how to set it up. He'd been in charge of that particular task on job sites when he was in construction, and had it in place and level in no time. "We might want another," he told Wolf. Wolf turned to Mother.
"I think one's enough. It's only for the women, anyway. The guys will piss on the side of the barn." Gross, but true. She'd been to enough parties to know that.
As day turned to late afternoon, Marissa approached Mother. "Those of us on the committee took a poll," she said, sounding very business-like. Mother had to bite her cheek to keep from smiling. Gus's imitation had been spot on. "And if you don't mind, most of the town would like a little while to get changed."
"Changed?"
Marissa looked shocked. "Yes, changed. We can't very well attend a function in these dirty clothes!"
Mother laughed then, but quickly patted Marissa's arm. "Of course. It just never occurred to me. You think of everything!" Marissa beamed under the compliment. "By all means." Mother clapped her hands to get the attention of the group. Most of them were done their preparations and stood milling around the barnyard under the late March sun. "I think we should all break for a couple hours and get cleaned up. Dinner will be part of the party buffet, so there will be no standard meal. Let's meet back here at six. And don't forget your dancing shoes," she called as the group broke up and headed down the hill.
Mother went inside and helped Eve open cans of meat. They combined some canned beef and chicken with crumbled up, stale crackers. Eve dumped in a bunch of bread crumbs, and lamented the lack of eggs. Mother added to her constant mental list: find chickens. They managed to get the meat to stick together enough to form meatballs, and though they didn't taste exactly right, and the texture was a bit weird, it was the closest thing any of them had to a meatball in months, and Mother knew they'd be a hit.
Eve took jars of grated cheese and dumped them into another bowl. They were found at a grocery store during the raid, and hadn't yet been entered into the town supply. None of the food they were using had. Mother had justified using so much food for the party by saying that, and Eve went along with it because damn if it wouldn't feel good to stuff themselves just once. She added more crumbled crackers to the cheese, then some spices and water. She flattened the mix into little patties, and after some experimentation with heat and amounts of oil, she was able to fry up little crunchy, cheesy patties.
Mother bit one, breathing in cool air quickly. "Hot."
"They just came out of boiling oil. What did you expect?" Eve said with a wry smile.
"Good. Hot but good." Mother licked the oil off her fingers. "Where did you learn to cook?" She instantly felt bad for the question. She did not want anyone to pry into her life, and tried very hard never to ask anything personal about anyone else's life before. "Sorry."
"You know I don't care," said Eve. She always had to tell Mother the same thing. She was an open book. She honestly didn't care what Mother asked her. "My dad owned a catering business that he turned into a country club. I used to help before it got big and moved out of our kitchen."
Mother leaned back against the counter and drank some water to cool her burnt tongue. "You couldn't have been very old." Shit. She was prying again.
"I wasn't. Dad moved the operation into the country club building when I was ten. I guess some things you learn when you're young just stick." Eve scooped out a batch from one pan, turned the patties in another, and dropped fresh patties in a third. "We need a bigger stove," she muttered, jostling the pans around the small stove top, trying to get even heat.
Mother stroked her chin. They did. She added that to the list inside, and then added a note to talk to Mack about construction. Which lead her to remember that she wanted to add a whole room to the house for Cora, which lead her to remember the handicapped ramp she wanted to build...
"Stop thinking. Tonight's for fun," Eve said, pointing her greasy spatula in Mother's direction. "Go get all gussied up."
Mother smiled. "What about you?"
Eve waved the spatula towards herself. "And what could I possibly improve on?"
Mother th
rew her head back and laughed. Eve was a little spitfire, and as she grew stronger, she was certainly a force unto herself. "Fine, Miss Perfect. I'll just take my sad sack self down to the dungeon and see if the witch has some magic brew to take away my ogrishness."
Eve frowned. "Oh, stop. I didn't mean..."
"Ogrishness isn't a word," said Wolf, coming in the room to trade his walkie talkie for a freshly charged one from the bank of charging stations Striker installed on the counter.
Mother turned and hunched her back, dragging her leg behind her and snarfling like some monster from the deep. "Igor get pretty, master," she said in a voice that cracked Eve up.
Wolf stared after her and shook his head. "She's so weird."
"And you love it," Eve said pointedly, before turning back to the cooking.
Mother took her shower, but didn't plan on putting anything fancy on for clothes. The party was for her citizens, and while she intended to be there and have a good time, she decided to only participate so for. She needed to keep her eyes open and alert and watch for trouble. And she needed to be able to be the authority figure if the unwanted actually happened. She selected clean clothes and a warm surplus jacket to wear in the cool evening, then headed up to spell Eve at the stove and let her have a chance to really dress up. "Go," Mother insisted. "You're too young to be cooped up in here all the time. Go be young tonight."
An hour later, the townspeople had gathered and Wolf was on high alert. He made sure Mother had a knife, a walkie, and a gun strapped on her belt in plain view. She had protested, but it was useless. "The gun's not even loaded for god's sake."
"They won't know that." He tightened the holster until the gun sat in view between the panels of the open jacket. "You'd be surprised at how far just seeing a gun will go to keep people in line."
Mother smiled wryly. "Aren't you always saying not to pack anything I won't use?"
Wolf was surprised. So often she seemed like she didn't listen when he talked or attempted to train her. He was pleased at least some of it sank in. "If it comes down to that, you won't have time to pull it anyway." He handed over the walkie. "I'll be right there, too."
Mother clipped the walkie on her belt. "I feel ridiculous. This is a party, not an invasion." It was futile to say words she knew would fall on deaf ears, and she made her way out to the party acutely aware of the unfamiliar heaviness of her belt. She felt like she waddled as they walked through the crowd.
When the gathered townspeople parted to let her through to the makeshift dance floor they set up under strings of Christmas lights, Mother whistled in true admiration for all the hard work. "All I can say is wow." She motioned toward Marissa. "Let's give the decorations committee a round of applause. I honestly can't believe this is the same barn!" The group cheered and clapped and Marissa beamed. Mother took the opportunity to look at her people. As Marissa said, they all took advantage of finally having an occasion and were all cleaned and polished. The men had their hair combed, and several had shaved off the months of beard growth. There were a couple suit coats, and several women wore dresses. And everyone looked fresh and excited, the first time Mother had ever seen this side of her people. She felt a welling emotion clog her throat and had to clear it before she could speak.
"I can't believe this barn, but more importantly, I can't believe us. Look at us. Just a few months ago we were dragged out zombies. Now look. We've got a home. We've got houses. We've got fields that we plowed and we're actually about to plant food. We've come so very far." She saw the smiles, heard the sniffles that matched her own. "Wow. That's all I can say. Did any of you ever think you could do this? Did any of you ever think you could be so strong? So amazing? Because I didn't think I could. I didn't think I could step up and be a farmer. I didn't think I could be a doctor. I didn't think I could keep pushing ahead and build something new.
"That's what we're doing, isn't it? We're building. We're actually fucking doing it." There were laughs and titters at the language, and Mother rode the high of shared good feelings and ran with it. "We're doing it. We lived through, and now we're actually living on. We took this empty town and we're making it our own!"
The crowd was loudly applauding and cheering. It was the biggest show of support Mother had known yet, and her heart swelled with pride. Her people were backing her. Her people were behind her. And as she said the words that just spilled out, she truly meant them. "We took something old and broken and we're turning it into something new. We've got challenges every single day, and we're facing them. Are we running? No! Are we hiding? No! Are we cowering like scared little children?"
"No!" the crowd answered for her.
"We're taking this life and we're making it our own! Arlington is gone. It was their life. It was their hopes and their dreams. We're taking what they left and making it ours." A thought struck and she went with it. "I am officially declaring Arlington is done." She chopped her hand through the air for emphasis. "Arlington is over, and while it was great while it lasted, it's gone. We're here, not them. From this day on, I'm declaring this our new life, our new town. From this day forward, we are all residents of Newton!"
Wolf watched Mother from across the makeshift stage and wondered again how it was that such a young, untrained girl could do what professionals could not. She was magic. She had "it", that spark that made people listen, that desire that made them follow, and that intangible essence that defined a truly good leader. Newton. It was brilliant. He wondered if she had been mulling it over or if it just came to her on the fly. If he was a betting man, he'd put his money on it being a spontaneous thought. They were behind her. The people were almost in a frenzy of good cheer. Wolf's frown deepened. It was working, and while it was a milestone for her, it was just the start of hard work for him.
"Starting tomorrow, I want every sign in town that says 'Arlington' to be removed!"
"Don't we get a hangover day?" called someone from the crowd, and everyone, including Mother, laughed.
"Okay, okay," she said, holding up her hands. "Then Monday we take all the old signs down." It was time to bow out. Nothing she could possibly say now would go over any better, and she wanted to leave them on a high. "Now, Mr. Wolf, if you'd help me with the booze, we'll get this party started!" She cued Striker to start the music and trotted to the house with Wolf.
"Who writes your speeches?" he asked when they were lifting the first of the boxes from the basement.
"Too much?" she asked, still grinning from her high.
"I'd say just about damn perfect."
It was perhaps the only true compliment Wolf had given her, and she almost bounced up the stairs in spite of the heavy case she carried. Newton. It wasn't her intention to rename the town, but it just hit her while she was up there. New lives, new town. And boy, did the people rally behind the idea. Newton. They were Newton.
Damn perfect, indeed.