As the tour group moves on, the Kingdom's former subjects are awed by the busy docks. The manila file folder rustles. "Jakob Wexler?" Garland says. "You'll be working on boat repairs. And Mark Spruce? You'll be with the fishermen."
One of the Kingdom's knights, Sarah, speaks up: "You have a very solid iron fence at your entry, and I saw you had one on the other side of the museum and one extending up along the fields there. I assume your whole camp is fenced in on three sides up to the dock?"
"Yes. And there's wood fencing around the settlement, but that's original, part of the recreation of Fort Jamestown."
"But what about the dock itself?" Sarah asks. "It's right on the river. Walkers can't swim, but people can. And they can bring boats up and down here. It seems like you have a completely open entry point."
"What's your name?" After she tells him, Garland consults his file, and says, "A knight? I'll assign you to the dock patrol. But to answer your question, if you look at the edge of the dock there," Garland points to one end, "you can see some metal rising above the water about three feet."
"Oh, yes, I see it now," Sarah says. "What is that?"
"It's a chain link barrier we have extending across the river on both ends of the dock to the fence on the other shore. It cordon off this dock. We send a rower out to roll it back when we're letting our own ships in and out, but anyone trying to sail in will get caught up on it. Now, they could jump ship over it and swim in at us, or get down from their boats and try to undo the barrier, but that's highly noticeable. Our patrol should see them. Or that man in the lighthouse will." He points across the river to a lighthouse on a rocky peninsula that extends into the river in front of the fence line on the oppose shore. "We always keep a long-distance rifleman in there now."
"That would have been a good to have during the mutiny," Carol observes.
"Yes, it would have," Garland agrees. "That's probably what Shannon was thinking when she suggested it."
As they walk on, he points out their gristmill, powered by a water wheel. "We grow corn, oats, and barley and grind them there. George Norton? You'll report to the gristmill at 10 AM tomorrow." He leads them by the farm fields and assigns three people to work there after consulting his notes.
Soon, they enter the bustling settlement. Dog comes bounding out of the stables when he spies Daryl and barks and jumps up on him. "Heel!" Daryl orders, and Dog settles down and joins the tour.
Garland points out the outhouses, the schoolhouse, one of "our three greenhouses" and the chapel "which is also our courthouse." Later, he pauses by the barracks. "There are nine empty beds in here." Turning to Carol and Daryl, he explains, "Some of the men moved into the officer's cabins on the ships after the mutiny, and we lost three in that attack Daniel warned us about." He flips open the manila folder. "We can put nine of your single men in here."
"We have ten," Carol says. "Leave out Juan." She says that because Juan has family – a sister and brother-in-law and will likely want to stay with them.
The single men go inside the barracks and toss their packs on empty bunks.
As the tour group walks on, they circle into one of the bulwarks. Carol peers through the open window at the graveyard in the field beyond. The number of crosses has grown by a dozen since she was last here.
"The iron fence boxing this whole thing in," Sarah, the curious knight, asks, "are there gates? Besides the one we came through in front?"
"One on each side and one in the back," Garland replies. "They lock by key from the inside and out."
Garland leads them through the rest of the settlement, past the brewhouse and the store house and the pigs and the goats and another greenhouse. He talks about rations and trading, and then takes them to the Indian Village. They walk past four young children kicking a soccer ball and two more skipping rope. Three men stand smoking in front of their hut, and an elderly couple relaxes in wicker chairs in front of theirs. A woman works in her private garden.
It's nearing sunset, and most people must be done with their jobs for the day. Smoke rises through the holes in the roofs of several of the huts, and with it the scent of cooking fish. Conversation and laughter drifts from open doorways. A dog lies asleep in front of the thatch door of one hut. Some people, curious about the passing tour group, hang out their windows or stand in their doorways. A cat, in response to a call of "Here, kitty, kitty!" darts across the path of the group and disappears.
Carol looks back and counts her still homeless people. "That leaves three couples and Juan."
Garland stops in front of the beaded doorway of the whorehut. "They can stay here."
"With the whores?" Daryl growls.
"The council shut it down." Garland parts the beads and leads Daryl and Carol inside. The long hut is portioned into four rooms using free standing room dividers, and in the center is a kitchen area where a circular stone fireplace vents through a hole in the roof. "We got it ready in case of growth, but it's not in use."
"It's as if you were planning for us," Carol says.
"We were planning for anyone," Garland tells her. "Granted, we thought we'd fill these spaces gradually, over the course of the next year or two, and not all in one day, but…" He shrugs.
"We appreciate the generosity." Carol tells him.
Daryl asks, "What happened to the whores?"
"One of them died of complications from pelvic inflammatory disease," Garland answers. "One married a former client and moved in with him, and he works for her rations, and the other two…now they waitress."
"Waitress?" Carol asks.
"Madam Linda is our liquor distributor. That was Shannon's idea. We let the market ration liquor now. Madam Linda runs a tavern, and she and the two waitresses work and live there. They sleep in the loft."
"Ya ain't afraid they'll drink up the inventory?" Daryl asks.
"Not with Madam Linda in charge. I told you she keeps careful accounts. One of the waitresses – she dried out. The other one still struggles, but uses her tips to supply her habits now. Have your people drop their things, and I'll show y'all."
Garland leads the group beyond the old whorehut to a cabin-like structure with a sign out front that reads, simply, The Tavern. "The Tavern's closed at the moment, but it's open six to ten Tuesday through Saturday evening. This is the only distribution point for alcohol in town, unless you scavenge or make and share your own, of course. You pay with tobacco, tea, coffee beans, ammunition, labor, whatever. Prices vary based on supply and demand, so ask the waitresses what the price of the day is when you go in. Whatever you spend here goes into the Jamestown storehouse and pantry. Any tips go to the waitresses and manager, but they also get basic rations for working here." To Carol and Daryl he explains, "The tavern has increased our communal supplies. It motivates people to conserve, to scavenge, and to grow more on their own time so they can spend it here."
"It a topless tavern?" Daryl asks.
Carol rolls her eyes toward him. "And why do you want to know that?"
"Just fig'rd people should know 'fore they walk in there."
"No, it's not," Garland answers, "but I won't say some of the men don't go there to gawk at the waitresses anyway." He turns to address the rest of the Kingdom group. "That about wraps up the tour. Why don't y'all get settled, pick up your rations for the coming week, meet your neighbors, and get a good night's sleep?"
"We get paid in advance?" a Kingdom woman asks.
"Yes," Garland replies, "but if you shirk your duty there are fines."
"What if we don't like the job we got assigned?" a Kingdom man grumbles.
"You be grateful for fences and roofs," Edward the plumber tells him, "for fish and fowl, and you shut up and do it."
Garland smiles at that, but he says, "You can apply to the town council for a job transfer. We hold open town halls three times a week in the Council Chambers. Outside the chambers you'll find a sign listing the times for each week. Come by during one of those, state your case, and you may or may not get a transfer. Anyone can come by during one of those town halls and raise any concern." He nods to Sarah. "For instance, if you have suggestions for improvement to security."
After thanking Garland, the people disperse, and Garland takes Carol and Daryl back to his cabin. On the way, he shows them a barren spot of land where Daryl can build. Garland's cabin looks much the same from the outside, except for the new garden boxes that line either side and the freshly built awning that extends from the front door to cover two rocking chairs.
Dog runs straight to the fireplace when they go inside. The canine circles three times on the deer skin rug and then plops down in front of the gently flickering flames. Gary, who looks at least three inches taller than when Carol last saw him, lets go of the car he's running along a bookshelf. Laughing, the three-year-old runs – rather than toddles - over to the rug, saying, "Doggie, doggie, doggie, nice doggie." He falls to his knees before Dog, who jerks up his head to look suspiciously at the boy. Dog turns his head to Daryl, who gives his canine friend a little nod. Dog then proceeds to lick Gary in the face, until the boy topples backward laughing.
"Gentle!" Shannon warns from the kitchen nook, where she's setting the table for dinner. "Pet it gently, Gary!"
"I think the dog's petting him," Garland says.
The cabin's former earthen floor has been overlaid with wood. There's now a stool and a wooden high chair at the kitchen counter, and an extra pot hangs on the wall in the nook. The living room has a second bookcase, with more books as well as board games. There's a fourth gun in the gun rack above the fireplace and a rustic cradle in the far corner of the living room. There's also a new manual ceiling fan hanging in the center of the living room, with pully chains for cranking and powering.
"Carol, y'all take those packs right into Gary's bedroom," Shannon tells her. "There are two twin beds in there. I put fresh sheets on them, and you can push them together to make one big bed. That will be your room until you get your cabin built, so that you can have your privacy. Gary will sleep in our room on the trundle bed."
"What about your privacy?" Carol asks.
"Oh, don't worry." Shannon puts a hand on her protruding belly. "It's the third trimester. Garland's hardly getting any anyway."
Garland closes his eyes.
Carol laughs. "You haven't changed a bit."
Daryl and Carol drop their things in Gary's room, and then Shannon invites them to sit down at the table. "I know you're going to be shocked," she tells them, "but we're having fish for dinner."
They drink cold tea lightly sweetened with honey, eat, laugh, and catch up. "I'll cook from now on," Carol says.
"Is my cooking that bad?" Shannon asks.
"No!" Carol insists. "This is great. But you're putting a roof over our heads. I want to contribute. And I'm sure you're exhausted with the pregnancy. Daryl can do the dishes."
Daryl looks up from his plate and chews a little more slowly.
"Excellent," Garland says. "That's usually my job."
When there's a lull in the conversation, Daryl ventures, "Did you…uh…happen to get that recipe 'fore your mama died?"
"For the strawberry pie?" Shannon asks. "Yes, I finally got it out of her, but I tried to make it and... Well, she must have left some secret ingredient out. It's just not the same. But I can make my version for you if you like."
"'M sure yer version's good, too."
"Just don't get your hopes up," Shannon warns him. She turns to Garland. "Any pretty ladies in your tour group today, baby?"
"Several."
"Garland!" Shannon scolds. "You're supposed to say, None as pretty as you."
"Hell," Daryl grunts, "even I know that." He pops a broad bean into his mouth using his fingers.
Shannon shakes her head at her husband. "You're going to have to work on your charm, baby. Elections are coming up in July."
Garland shrugs and cuts his fish. "I thought I'd just rely on my record of honesty, dependability, and hard work."
"If only that was all politics required. You have no idea how hard I campaigned for you after the transition." Shannon pulls her glass of tea closer to herself. "So who was the prettiest?"
"Probably Sarah," Garland answers.
"Damn, man," Daryl says. "Makin' me feel like Casanova over here." Carol chuckles.
"Now who's this Sarah?" Shannon asks Carol.
"One of our former knights. She was a solider and a guard."
"Sharp, too," Garland says. "She was making observations about security."
"And did you tell Sarah you were married?" Shannon asks.
"I thought the wedding ring was the giveaway." Garland glances at Daryl's ring finger. "Well, he's still got it."
"What?" Daryl asks.
"Garland bet me you would lose your wedding ring in under one month," Shannon explains. "That you'd take it off and not be able to find it."
"Hell would I take it off for?" Daryl asks.
"Well, Garland takes his off all the time to shoot on the range because he says it messes up his grip. And he takes it off to wash his hands, and to practice his kung fu because he claims it interferes with his chi. He's lost his ring three times in the three years we've been married. I keep getting new ones from the box. I told him next time he loses one, he's tattooing my name straight across his forehead."
Carol laughs.
After dinner, Garland wants to show Daryl a new handgun and a new rifle he got off the would-be invaders in the battle Daniel warned them was coming, and Shannon wants to show Carol the phonograph that sits on the window sill next to a stack of old records. "We pinched it from the museum when we found out it actually works, Shannon tells her as she puts on a Beethoven record. "You've got to wind it and wind it, but it plays."
Carol gives it a continuous crank and, eventually, music begins drifting softly from the horn.
When little Gary sees everyone showing off their new toys, he wants to show off his. "Twuck!" he tells Carol, holding up a miniature eighteen wheeler. "Ewaphan!" he tells Daryl, running over to him and shoving a stuffed Elephant into his stomach.
Daryl takes the elephant, hops it on top of Gary's head, and lets out an elephant noise that's a pretty good approximation. The sound makes Carol laugh and Gary's eyes widen. The little boy steps back and looks up at Daryl with surprise.
"That's the noise an elephant makes," Garland explains to him. "He's never heard an elephant before."
"It makes me a little sad," Shannon says, "that he'll never see one in real life. Or any of those zoo animals."
"Who knows," Carol says. "Maybe he will. Ezekiel once had a tiger in the Kingdom."
Garland looks up from the rifle he's just started to disassemble. "A tiger?"
Carol tells him about Shiva.
"Well, let's hope no loose herd of zoo elephants come trampling through Jamestown."
"Gotta all of been eaten by now by walkers," Daryl reasons.
Shannon, tired from the pregnancy, goes to bed early with Gary. Because of all the trouble in the Kingdom and the pilgrimage to Jamestown, Daryl and Carol haven't had sex in over a week, so Carol hints that she's tired, too, but Daryl doesn't notice because he's so busy examining the parts of Garland's new rifle.
Garland, however, does notice. He takes the disassembled barrel of the rifle from Daryl's hands and says, "Hey, Casanova, I think your wife wants you to tuck her in."
[*]
"M' ass is slippin' through this crack," Daryl grumbles and eases away from where the two twin beds are pushed together. They've just had sex, and are warm, a bit sweaty, and trying to get comfortable.
"Why don't we just snuggle in one bed until we're ready to sleep?" Carol suggests. "Then I'll go back to mine to give you space."
"A'ight." Daryl scoots over until he's at the edge of his twin bed and turns on his side so Carol can spoon back against him. He pulls a sheet up over them both, because once they cool off from their lovemaking, the March temperature will chill them.
Carol never does go back to her bed. Safe for the first time in days, behind walls, with a roof over her head, and in her husband's warm embrace, she fades quickly into slumber.
