Earth Mama Blues
In the once upon a time before the bombs, Melanie had the only New Age shop for fifty miles. It went bust for lack of interest and she had to close it, but now she's thankful for that failure, because she has it all at home, stockpiled. There are herbs and tinctures and salves, enough preparations to medicate a fair number of people for as long as their potency lasts.
Late one October night, there's a pounding on her door, and hurrying to answer, she wonders what the emergency is at nearly midnight. It's almost certainly bad news at this hour. Has something happened to Mama or Aunt Tessie or her brother, Bill? She doesn't turn on the lights, although she could---her house was built to be eco-friendly, and she has enough solar and wind-powered devices that Mel's day-to-day life has probably changed less since the bombs than anyone else in Jericho.
When she peers out the front window, her breath catches at the sight of the man standing there. He holds up one bandaged arm in silent explanation, and after deliberating for a moment, Melanie unlatches the door and lets him in.
"I need a place to lie low for a while," says Jonah Prowse, as she closes the door behind him.
She's resigned to his demand for assistance, but she isn't happy about it. Although Mel prefers to think of herself as a fair-minded individual, she hasn't trusted Jonah Prowse since fifth grade. She was never able to prove it, but she's always been positive that he was the one who stole her Girl Scout cookie money out of her bookbag.
Tending his wound is a matter of changing dressings and administering a few time-tested remedies. That's the easy part. She's not used to having anyone in her space, that's hard enough to handle---and she knows he's looking things over, the speculative inventory of a thief. What will disappear with him? Blankets? Flashlights? Booze? Or will he come back with a truck and clean out her whole pantry?
Without comment, she fixes a bed for him on the couch, but it would be too much to hope for that he'd stay there. She's upstairs in her own bed when a shadow darkens her doorway.
"Damn it, Jonah, I never said---"
"Move over," he says, and slides in beside her.
If she was tense before his appearance, she's five-feet, seven inches of knots as he gets up close and personal. It's been quite a few years since she's shared a bed with anyone, and she's never had the slightest desire to share one with him, but like hell she's going to sleep on the couch.
He snores. It finally lulls Mel to sleep at some pre-dawn hour, and when she awakens, she's alone, as usual. The whole incident was strange enough that at first, it has the overtones of a dream, until she hears a cabinet door bang downstairs, and she's out from under the covers and charging into the kitchen between one breath and the next.
She finds Jonah in the kitchen, rummaging through her cabinets, looking so perplexed that Mel actually believes him when he tells her he has no idea how to cook any of this crap…and does she have any coffee? He'd kill for a decent cup of coffee. (She believes that, too.)
She has ample stocks of herbal tea, and demonstrates how to work the electrical system. She's been fully solar for a while now, and Mel hopes she's not overplaying her hand. If he and his gang take over her house, she'll wind up in town, either playing hand-maiden to Mama and Aunt Tessie, or answering questions from her baby brother. Neither option appeals to her…so she's more polite to Jonah than she would be otherwise.
His wound is inflamed when she examines it, so she hauls out the ingredients for a poultice and doctors it again. Pretty soon, he's yawning from the combination of the warm room and chamomile tea, and she leaves him napping on the couch while she goes out back to collect more wood for the stove.
When she walks in through the back door, it's to find a Mexican standoff in progress. Jonah is brandishing one of her carving knives, while her brother Bill has his sidearm drawn and looks like he's thinking about using it.
She dumps an armful of kindling into the woodbox with unnecessary force. Honestly, at times like this, she wishes she was an only child "Planning to use that to cut some of the testosterone in the room?" she asks Jonah pointedly. "Bill, put that gun away. The man is a guest in my house, and I won't stand for you shooting him."
"Thanks," says Jonah, smiling at Bill. Her baby brother is simmering, but Mel gives him the evil eye, and he finally holsters the gun, glaring at Jonah. "Of course, if he really wanted to shoot me, he's already had his chance."
"You lay a hand on my sister, and I will," he snaps at the ex-con.
Mel clears her throat. "By the same token, Bill, if Jonah had evil intentions, he's had plenty of them to act on them. He's been here for eighteen hours already, and I'm fine. My virtue and my possessions are still intact. So, don't bring your pissing contest to my doorstep. I'm Switzerland, do you understand? I'm neutral."
"Don't look at me!" Jonah raises his hands. "I was fixing myself a sandwich when he came in and started getting all law and order on me." The knife rests on the countertop, and there's a loaf of bread with a cut slice and a jar cherry preserves nearby.
"He'll rob you blind if you turn your back on him," Bill says, pursing his lips. It's the same expression he used to get when he didn't approve of the guys she was dating or how late she got in from said dates. "He's been banned from town, did he tell you that?"
"The subject didn't come up," she says, and looks at the bandage on her guest's arm. She should've asked, but when you've got a reputation like Jonah Prowse, it doesn't really matter; there's always going to be something, someone causing trouble.
" Switzerland isn't such a bad idea," the outlaw remarks. He looks long and hard at Bill. "We're not in town right now. Your people are stretched thin trying to keep the peace. Melanie can use all the protection she can get. These days, there are people running around who make me look like George Washington. I'll keep an eye on her, and if you or anybody from town needs to get a message to me, you can leave it here."
Mel's mouth opens and closes for a moment. She wants to say she can take care of herself, but damn him, Jonah's right.
"I'll let Emily know," Bill replies by way of agreement. He looks from Jonah to his sister, sighs, and shakes his head. "I hope you know what you're doing, Mel."
"Yeah, well, keep it under your hat," she says darkly, walking him toward the door. "I'm staying put, and I don't need Mama fussing at me like I was twelve years old."
Returning to the kitchen, her guest is munching on a slice of bread spread with crimson preserves, and there's another one waiting for her on the counter. "Thanks for not letting him shoot me," he says, smiling.
"Don't make me regret it." Her day-to-day life is about to change. The bombs have made some supplies harder to get, but an alliance with Jonah Prowse is really going to shake things up. Nuclear war makes strange bedfellows.