Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Carol told Daryl they weren't going to do that again, not until the stitches were out. Carol had sewn him back up using a needle and surgical thread (courtesy of the park's emergency clinic). She was just as good at it as the veterinarian, Daryl thought, and a much prettier nurse. He hated to think about the way she'd learned to do it, though.
Daryl didn't know if it was the powerful satisfaction from the fooling around or if it was that Vicodin from the CVS loot Carol had brought him after stitching him up and before kissing him goodnight. but when he woke up, the sun was streaming through the slats of the blinds, and the glowing green letters of the solar powered alarm clock on his nightstand read 10:35 AM.
10:35 AM.
He never slept past 6:30 AM unless he was passed-out drunk. He just couldn't do it. His body had some kind of sick internal alarm clock.
Daryl threw off the blankets and stumbled to the bathroom, where he took two extra strength Tylenol – how could his shoulder be hurting again? It was just a little bullet wound - and turned on the shower. Undressing was painful. Showering was painful. Washing his wound with soap and water was the most painful of all. Until he tried to dry off. That hurt worse. He coated the stitches with antibiotic like the veterinarian had told him to, and then he put on gauze, holding the medical tape in his teeth as he ripped it. Getting dressed again was also painful. Those Tylenol better kick in soon.
It was 11:00 by the time he made it down the ramp to the living room. The only one about was Michonne, who was putting together a wooden puzzle on the living room table with Andre.
"Good morning, Sunshine," Michonne told him when he stepped into the living room, and Daryl grunted. He made his way to the kitchen and poured the last cup of cold coffee sitting in the pot and then shoved it in the microwave and shut the door.
"Desired heating time and temperature?" the microwave asked in its robotic, feminine voice.
"High. One minute," he said loudly, and the microwave began to whir.
"Oh, don't do that, Daryl. I can make you a fresh pot," Michonne told him as she stood from the couch.
"Fresh pot!" Andre repeated her.
"Be a waste," Daryl muttered.
"We have more coffee grounds and beans than we can possibly consume in three years." Michonne strolled over to the kitchen. "And after that, they won't have much flavor left. That's when we hit the instant crystals." She pulled out the coffee pot and began rinsing it out in the sink. "And frankly, I just want another cup for myself," Michonne poured the water into the top of the drip coffee maker.
"Where's Carol?"
"Working under the tutelage of the great Master Gardener, Richard the Lionhearted."
Daryl snickered.
"Lori and Carl, too."
So Lori had decided to garden. Daryl wondered if that was to make sure Michonne wasn't encroaching on her man or because she was feeling better now that she was in the second trimester.
"Andrea's fishing with Sophia. Shane is still sleeping after night watch, Glenn is chopping wood for the outdoor fire pit, and T-Dog is doing perimeter check."
"Like to see him on a Segway."
"Oh, no, he took your motorcycle."
"Fuck it!"
Michonne chuckled. "I'm sure he'll treat it well."
Daryl took his coffee out of the microwave, sipped, and then winced at the burnt taste. Maybe he would wait for that fresh pot after all. He set the cup down on the counter next to a paperback book titled Count Your Calories: A Guide to Nutritional Content. Beside that was a sheet of notebook paper where someone – Lori, judging by the handwriting – had done some calculations:
Protein Recommendations: Women – 46 grams; Pregnant Women – 60 grams; Men – 56 grams; Kids 11 to 14 – 50 grams; Pre-school age – 18 grams
46(3) + 60 + 56(4) +50(2) + 18 = 540 grams per day
540 grams X 9 days = 4,860 grams
Remaining Meat:
Alligator - 124 grams
Ham – 564 grams
35 eggs = 210 grams
1.25 gallons of milk – 198 grams
1 pound of cheese – 96 grams
Can of Spam – 42 grams
Meat in a Box (?) – 32 grams
Cans of tuna fish – 184 grams
Total: 1,450 grams
Andrea's 9-day estimate for fish catch: 826 grams
Total: 2,276
Still needed: 2,584
Beans – 14 grams per cup
2,584 / 14 = 182 cups
That's how they were going to do it? Daryl thought. They were going to eat a collective 182 cups of beans over the next nine days? This place was going to smell like the House of the Giant Fart. He couldn't wait nine more days to go hunting again.
The coffee began dripping and Michonne wandered over to the counter. "She forgot the oatmeal. That's 5 grams a cup cooked, and we've got plenty of that."
"Need to hunt."
"No, you don't. We have plenty to get us through. She forgot the nuts and sunflower seeds, too. We have all those little snack bags of roasted nuts and seeds. And we can roast the pumpkin seeds from that pumpkin Glenn brought from the farm."
"Can't overfish that lake. They need to breed. Wouldn't recommend catchin' more than sixteen a week."
"Well, tell Andrea. She's in charge of the fishing."
"Hell am I supposed to do with m'self for nine days?" he muttered.
"Relax," Michonne told him as she took his mug from the microwave and dumped the reheated contents down the sink. "Read some books. We started a library while you were gone. Check out that new corner bookcase we put in the living room."
Daryl wandered over to the bookcase, which was tucked into the cubby that had once had some kind of ridiculous decorative art piece that was now gone. Andre ran over next to him, pointed at the bookcase, and said, "See! Books! Lots and lots!"
The bottom shelf was nothing but children's picture books. The next shelf was half full of children's picture books and half full of the DVDs that had been in the drawer, stacked upward. The next two shelves were mostly reference-type books on weapons, gardening, hunting, camping, fishing, and homemaking, and above that, two shelves of novels. "Where'd you get all this?"
"The shops. We just picked an assortment of the best stuff. And everyone put their personal books on there to share that they'd picked up various places." Michonne took the coffee pot out halfway through its drip and poured him a fresh cup. She set it down on the counter.
He took it and muttered a thanks. "Can't read all damn day," he grumbled.
"Well, it's movie night tonight. Carl's pick. A Kid in King Arthur's Court. Sit down. I'll make you oatmeal for breakfast." She extended him the cup of coffee.
"Ain't used to bein' waited on," he muttered as he took it and walked toward the living room.
"Thank you is the appropriate response," Michonne told him.
He settled onto the couch and Andre ran up beside him and leaned against his leg while turning over the wooden puzzle consisting of large pieces in the shape of various vehicles and dumped the pieces on the coffee table. Then he set the board down and picked up the ambulance piece using its large, wooden handle. "What noise it make?"
"Wooh-weeh-wooh-whee." Daryl told him.
Andre slammed the piece into a spot where it didn't fit, then tried another. He twisted and turned until he fit it in. Then he picked up the fire truck. "What noise it make?"
"Also wooh-whee-wooh-wee." In two attempts, Andre had it in place. He picked up the police car next. "What noise it make?"
"They all make the same noise. A siren noise." Daryl sipped his coffee and considered that Andre would never see most of these vehicles moving about in his entire life. He'd see the motorcycle though, already had. Daryl reached with his left hand, ignored the pain in his wounded shoulder, and picked it up. "This is the best one. It goes vroom vroom vroooom!"
"Vroom!" Andre said as he grabbed it from Daryl's hand and worked it into the puzzle. Then he held up the tractor piece to Daryl. "What noise it make?"
He might see a tractor one day, if he ever went to the Greene Family Farm. "Uh…grrrrrrrrrr."
"Grrrrrrr…." Andre repeated as he put it in the puzzle. Then he shouted, "Again!" and flipped the puzzle over so all the pieces felt out. He thrust up the ambulance. "What noise it make?"
Daryl sighed. If he had to spend nine days sitting around this house, putting together puzzles and reading books, they could just shoot him again right now.
[*]
When the Extra Strength Tylenol kicked in, and his belly was full from oatmeal with fresh apples and cinnamon mixed in, Daryl went for a walk. He found Rick and Lori gardening, wearing ridiculous sunhats from one of the gift shops, and garden gloves that said Fun Kingdom on them. "They have seeds where you found those gloves?" Daryl asked.
"Only flower seeds," Rick told him. "And they had chia pets. If you feel like growing green hair on a lamb."
"Where's Carol?"
"She went to the practice range."
The sound of muffled gunshots got louder as Daryl approached the B.B. gun carnival game. Carol was practicing with her AR-15 and using a suppressor. They had three supressors now. They reduced the noise of gunshots, but certainly didn't eliminate them. The group was allowing everyone 15 practice rounds a week since they found the reloading presses and supplies. She lay her rifle down on the counter of the game she was standing behind, several yards from the B.B. gun game. She was using that counter as a shooting bench. She took the soft earplugs out of her ears and tucked them in her pocket. "You're awake."
"Yeah." He bent to scoop up her spent shell casings and tuck them in his pocket and winced slightly from the small effort.
"You should be resting," she said.
"Rested enough. Soph's fishin'?"
"With Andrea. Want to come over here and critique my form while I shoot these last four rounds?"
He raked his eyes up and down her. "Ain't nothin' to critique 'bout your form."
"You know I meant my shooting form." She jerked her head to the spot next to her. "Come on. Teach me."
He smiled, strolled over, and joined her behind the booth.
[*]
Dinner was Carol's making tonight, a fresh chopped garden salad using kale, cauliflower, and broccoli from the Greene Family Farm, mixed with garbanzo and kidney beans, sprinkled with shredded cheese, sunflower seeds, and sliced almonds, and tossed in a dressing she'd made using the farm's blackberries as well as oil and vinegar appropriated from one of the many kitchens. It was a bit heavy on the raw vegetables for Daryl's taste. Kale it turned out was just as bitter as raw collard greens, but collards were meant to be cooked in bacon grease, as far as he was concerned, and these had not been cooked at all.
"This is great, Carol," Rick said. "Best thing you've made since we've been here."
"It didn't require a whole lot of making," she said. "Chopping mostly."
"But it's fresh and nutritious," Lori said. "Which is great after all the junk food we've been eating. And this dressing is great."
Daryl pointed to the salad with his fork. "Good," he said, though in truth he was suffering through it much like the children – the kale part, anyway. The rest was pretty good.
"I'm thinking of driving over to the Greene Family Farm tomorrow," Glenn said. "Hershel wanted to trade for some antibiotics, and we have twenty-one bottles. I counted. I thought maybe we'd give them four? I bet he would be willing to pay a lot for them. He says they're on their last bottle, which is why he didn't give it to Daryl. That and Daryl told him he had those ones for Merle's clap."
"He's coming to remove Daryl's stitches in eight more days," Rick said. "Let's not waste gas driving over there. We can trade then."
"But…uh…without Daryl hunting," Glenn said, "and not wanting to overfish that little lake, like he said, wouldn't it be good to go tomorrow? Maybe I can get milk and eggs in trade. Or cheese. Or beef even. Maggie said they were going to have slaughter a cow today. Getting old."
"We have plenty of protein to get us through," Rick said. "Lori calculated it all. When Hershel comes to trade and take out the stitches, that'll give us another two days of protein while Daryl hunts."
"I really think it would be a good idea to go sooner," Glenn said with shy insistence. "I mean that's my advice. If anyone cares…about my advice."
"Rick's right," Shane told him. "We have plenty of protein, more that Lori didn't put on that list. But gas is in short supply, and we can't be wasting it."
"Kid wants to see the farmer's daughter," Daryl said. "Just let 'em go."
Glenn smiled nervously.
T-Dog chuckled. "The one that rode up here on horseback? I can see why."
"Can you?" Andrea asked.
"I mean…if I were Glenn. I could see why. I prefer a more mature woman, myself."
"I can't be more than eight years older than her," Andrea told him.
Michonne chuckled. "If I were you, Theodore, I'd stop digging."
Andrea gave her a suspicious look for the use of T-Dog's first name.
"It's not like you stand a snowball's chance in hell with her," Shane told Glenn. "And we're not wasting gas just so you can look at a pretty girl."
Daryl kept his attention on his salad and waited to see if Glenn would kiss and tell just to smack down Shane, but, manfully, he didn't. "You don't know that," was all Glenn said. "Anyway, it would be good to cultivate a trade relationship with these people. Really good for us."
"Aside from saving the gas," Rick told him, "it might be better to make those negotiations when Shane and I can get in on them. Especially if you're, shall we say…a little distracted."
"Glenn's likeable. Look at that face!" Daryl waved a hand at Glenn. "Those hippie farmers are gonna trade more to an innocent face like that than to a couple a hard ass cops like y'all. Let 'em go. 'Sides, think I left my best sharpenin' stone there. Need him to fetch it for me."
Rick and Shane exchanged a look. "Fine," Shane said, "throwing up a hand. Waste the gas for a sharpening stone you can't even use because you can't be moving your arm around."
"Use m'right arm."
Rick sighed. "Well, you aren't going alone, Glenn. Not after what happened to Daryl. No one leaves these gates alone anymore."
"Y'all ain't goin' huntin with me, I'll tell you that right now," Daryl assured them. "Likely to scare off the game."
"I'll go with Glenn," Michonne volunteered. "If someone's willing to watch Andre for the day. It's not an overnight?"
"Uh…yeah probably not," Glenn conceded. "Doubt Hershel would let us stay overnight."
"I'm happy to watch Andre," Lori volunteered. "We've been making progress on our numbers. And I'm sure Daryl can help, right, Daryl?"
"What?" Daryl looked up from his salad.
"We can take turns," Lori said. "While I'm gardening or napping, you can watch him."
"Uh…I ain't much of a babysitter. Can't the kids watch 'em?"
"Sophia's fishing with me again tomorrow," Andrea said. "We only caught one today. They weren't biting."
"And Carl's doing perimeter check with me," Shane said. "And then some more firearms training."
"And then gardening with me," Rick added.
"Better not be doin' perimeter check on my bike," Daryl warned him.
"No. Like I said," Shane told him, "conserving gas is a priority. We'll use the Segways."
Daryl smirked. "Can't wait to see you on one of those. Shane Walsh, mall cop."
"I can make even a Segway look sexy," Shane insisted.
Michonne chuckled and Shane winked at her, which caused both Andrea and Lori to roll their eyes.
"It's not rocket science, Pookie," Carol assured him. "The babysitting. You'll be fine."
"Pookie?" the entire table chorused in unison, and Daryl flushed.
[*]
There was popcorn and candy for movie night again. Daryl was given the armchair, because of his injury, while Lori, Michonne, Carol, and the kids all squished onto the long couch, Andre on his mother's lap half the time and standing at her knees the other half. Others sat on floor or in padded folding chairs.
"You want another serving of popcorn, Pookie?" T-Dog asked Daryl as he reached for his plastic cup.
Daryl glowered and thrust the cup out to him.
"Fun Kingdom was walking a thin line having a Disney movie available for their hotel guests to watch in their park," Michonne noted. "I could have made bank suing them over copyright infringement."
"You were a lawyer?" Rick asked with surprise.
"Contract law," Michonne answered.
"Hey, me too!" Andrea exclaimed. "Civil rights law, though."
"I'd have expected that to be the other way around," Rick said.
"Yeah, and why's that?" Michonne asked him.
"Yeah, why is that, Rick?" T-Dog asked as he refilled Daryl's cup with popcorn from the red machine.
"Uh…well….I mean…"
Michonne chuckled. She flashed her smile, which made her look so much less intimidating than usual. "It's okay. I was just giving you a hard time, officer."
Rick smiled in relief and chuckled slightly himself.
Lori stood up from the couch and walked over to where Rick sat in a folded chair and began massaging his shoulders. Carol caught Daryl's eyes and smiled. Lori was like a dog pissing to mark its territory.
"Can everyone just stop talking through the whole movie please?" Carl asked.
"I know, right?" Sophia agreed.
Just as the movie was winding down, about five minutes before the conclusion, the TV switched off. The lights went off, and the whirring of the electrical heat abruptly stopped.
"What I say?" Daryl asked. "What I say? Told y'all. Told ya!"
Rick turned on a flashlight he fished from his pocket and made his way to the kitchen, where he lit a kerosene lamp.
"Gonna be two days now before that battery fully recharges!" Daryl grumbled. "And that's if we don't run a damn thing directly off the solar panels in the meantime. But we gotta run the water pump durin' the day to fill the water storage tank. And we gotta plug in the freezer and the food and milk fridge a few hours a day to keep shit from spoilin'. Not the whole time, though. So don't open either of 'em just to lookey loo!"
"Calm down, Pookie," Rick said mildly.
"Tell me to calm down!" Daryl half shouted. "Y'all best pray it ain't overcast this week! Gonna unplug the second fridge. Just got sodas and water in it. Gonna have to grill out the next couple days. No stove! No microwave! Don't turn on the heat. Bundle up at night! And don't turn shit else on, y'all hear! Not one light, not one appliance, not one goddamn CD player, not shit else until that battery is at full charge!"
"What about flushing shit, though?" Shane asked drolly. "Can we at least flush shit, Captain Power?"
"Flush shit," Daryl said, "but don't flush piss."
"Shit!" Andre cried. "Shit! Shit! Shiiiiit!"
"Thank you, gentlemen," Michonne told them.
"Try to piss in the woods unless it's the middle of the night," Daryl continued. "Gonna turn off the septic pump, let the emergency holding tank fill up, pump it all out later after the power's saved up. And so as the tank don't fill up too fast - y'all women quit it with goddamn toilet paper!"
"The women do go through a lot of toilet paper," Rick said.
"Seriously," Shane agreed. "Are you ladies absorbing rivers in there?"
"We don't precisely have the same appendages you do," Andrea replied. "We need more toilet paper."
"Can we stop all the yelling?" Sophia asked nervously.
Carl had turned on his pocket-sized Fun Kingdom flashlight and was sweeping the light across the wall around the TV.
"Well, Andre, I do believe it's already past your bedtime." Michonne scooped up her son.
"Shit!" Andre yelled.
[*]
When prepping for bed in the bathroom, by the light of her battery-operated Fun Kingdom pink glowing lamp, Carol did not flush the toilet. She washed her hands and brushed her teeth very quickly. There was still water because of the reserve tank, and the pump should refill it tomorrow if the solar panels caught light and they didn't try running too many other power suckers. No shower tonight, though.
When she came out, she walked to Daryl's room and stood in the open doorway. He'd lit that candelabra from the dining room, the same one that had glowed on his nightstand the first night, and he was struggling to pull on a thick sock using only his right hand. He'd put on a Fun Kingdom hoodie sweatshirt. It was about forty-two degrees outside, but probably fifty-two still in his room.
"I thought you didn't get cold," she said.
"When I'm huntin'. Workin'. Not when I'm sittin' on m'ass."
"Listen, Sophia's worried you're mad at her."
He yanked the sock up finally. "Why?"
"Well, because of your little rant down there after the power went off."
"Wasn't directed at her."
"No," Carol conceded. "It was directed at the group. And she's part of the group. So am I."
"Think I'm mad at you?" he asked.
"I think you're irritated. And I understand why. We all should have taken your warnings more seriously. But Daryl…I told you before. About the yelling. What it means to her. What it reminds her of. What it reminds us of."
He put his foot down on the floor and looked up at her. "I ain't never hit a woman in my life."
"I believe that. And that's why I'm not afraid of you when you yell. But it does…" She sighed. "It does remind me. And I'm trying to forget all that."
"Sorry. Try not to yell. Felt like y'all didn't hear me the first time I said it though. Or the second. Or the third."
"Fair enough. Could you talk to her? Just pop in and say goodnight? So she knows you aren't mad?"
Daryl nodded. "Yeah. Could do that."
He followed her to the bedroom she and Sophia shared and stepped cautiously inside after her. Sophia was sitting up in the trundle bed and writing her name in the air with a glow stick. She froze in mid-motion when Daryl walked in. She had cracked and lit several glow bracelets she'd gathered days ago from one of the gift shops and lain them on the dresser and nightstand, and the room glowed with green, yellow, blue, and red circles.
"Lotta glowy things," Daryl said.
"There are still thousands of them," Sophia replied softly. "In the shops. It's not a waste, I promise. I thought it would be better than wasting batteries on a flashlight."
"No, nah, didn't say it was a waste," Daryl hastened. "'S…awesome. Like a party in here."
Sophia smiled. "Or a rave."
"How you know 'bout raves?"
She shrugged. "Heard about them in a movie once. Sorry I wanted movie night."
"Movie night was a great idea!" Daryl insisted. "Just maybe…goin' forward…we have it twice a month 'stead of once a week. Make it extra special, huh? And uh…'stead of that borin' popcorn machine, can figure out how to pop corn in a pan over the outdoor fire pit. Bet that'd be fun, huh?"
"That'd be cool," Sophia agreed.
"Power thing's gonna be fine. Just gotta be conservative for a couple three days till it recharges, and then just a little more conservative than we been before, and it'll be steady after that I bet."
"Okay," she agreed.
"Really like your glow sticks."
Sophia smiled. "They're mostly glow bracelets. You want one?"
Daryl nodded. "Hell yeah, I want one."
Carol smiled as Sophia scurried out of bed, asking, "What color?"
"You pick."
"Green," Sophia told him. "It sets off your eyes." She plucked up a green bracelet and brought it over to him.
"'Cept my eyes are blue."
"Yeah, that's why green sets them off."
"Green's my favorite color, you know," Daryl lied.
Sophia unpopped the bracelet because it was too small to fit over his hand. Then she wrapped it around his wrist and popped it together again. "Mom said your favorite color was black."
"After black, I mean. Green. Second best color."
"They don't make black glow in the dark bracelets."
"Reckon they wouldn't." Daryl turned the bracelet on his wrist. "Bitchin'."
"Yeah, bitchin'!" Sophia agreed.
Carol shook her head, but she smiled.
"Mom, can I have your three guesses tonight?" Sophia asked.
"Sure."
"Bandwidth," Sophia told Daryl.
Daryl chuckled. "Oh. For my middle name. Nah. Didn't have no Internet when I was born."
"Really?" Sophia asked. "How old are you?"
Carol chuckled. "Positively ancient."
"Boron," Sophia guessed.
"Like…the element?" Daryl asked.
"Yeah. And it sounds like moron, so that would be embarrassing."
"Ain't Boron."
"What is boron anyway?" Carol asked. "What kind of element?"
"Dunno," Daryl admitted.
"Bumblebee."
Daryl smiled and shook his head. "Nah. Sorry."
"Well, I tried." Sophia said. "Goodnight, Daryl."
"Nite, Soph. Sleep tight."
Sophia hugged him, which gave him that surprised deer-caught-in-headlights look again, and made him go stiff for a moment, but he relaxed, and then he actually let one arm fall around her and hugged her back.
Sophia pulled away and practically hopped back to her trundle bed.