AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"Daryl—what's that?" Carol asked.
Daryl smiled. He was clearly proud of himself. It seemed that Sophia was even more proud of him.
"What's it look like?" Daryl asked.
"It looks like my baby is going to war," Carol said with a laugh.
Sophia didn't really know what was happening, Carol was sure, but she was as pleased as she could be with everything. She stood beside Daryl, holding onto his finger, and danced in place by wiggling her bottom from side to side. She took turns grinning at Carol and Daryl with her tongue pressed against the back of her teeth. A giggle escaped her every time Daryl looked at her and gave her a smile or some other expression meant to stir up joy in the three-year old.
"OK—I mean the helmet is camo, but I found it in one of the boxes that Glenn brought, so it weren't like I was shoppin' with a ton of options," Daryl said.
"Is that a bicycle helmet?" Carol asked.
Daryl pulled his finger free from Sophia's grasp and tapped his finger against the top of the helmet. Sophia laughed and grabbed at her face where the helmet straps crossed her cheeks.
"What's this, Soph?" Daryl asked.
"My head," Sophia offered.
Daryl laughed.
"I know it's your head," Daryl said. "What's this on top of your head? What's this—here. On your head?"
Sophia stared at him open-mouthed.
"I think she might have forgotten the word," Carol said. "If you prepared her before this."
"Fine," Daryl said. "This here is a helmet, Soph. Can you say helmet?" The little girl gave him the best rendition of the world that she could muster. "What's it do, Soph? Sophia—why'd Daddy put it on your head? What's it do?"
"Keeps my head safe!" Sophia declared.
Daryl smiled at Carol.
"You're very proud right now," Carol said.
"I can't help how smart she is," Daryl said. "Figured with them comin' today an' we gonna get started on work—figured she might be taggin' along with me. I was thinkin' that I didn't want her to get hurt. I don't think nobody would mean to, but with tossin' things and people movin' around…"
"Or she can stay with me," Carol said. "We're cleaning cells for everyone and then I'll be working with the group that's coming on cooking and laundry for power saving. It's a lot safer for Sophia than electricity, plumbing, and—and solar panels."
"She's got cover," Daryl said, tapping the top of the helmet again. "Protection. She can come and go as she pleases. Whether that's up here with you, down there helpin' Hershel with things, or followin' me around to see how to keep our panels going once we have 'em all up and runnin'."
"Fine," Carol agreed. "We'll let her choose what she wants."
"The helmet ain't really why we come," Daryl said. "We had news."
"What's that?" Carol asked.
Daryl bumped Sophia to sway her body.
"Tell her your news, Sophia," Daryl said. Sophia stared at him open-mouthed and furrowed her brow at him. He laughed to himself. "Tell her what you done today." Sophia clearly considered his request carefully and then she sucked in a breath.
"I feed the pigs!" She declared.
"You did?" Carol asked, trying to make sure her enthusiasm matched Sophia's. It was never truly possible to match the little girl because her excitement over every single mundane event in her life was truly inspiring.
"Mmmm hmmm," Sophia declared. "I did! I feed the pigs!"
"Not that, Sophia," Daryl said.
"I did!" Sophia said, furrowing her brow at him. She pointed down toward the livestock pens like they could see some memory of her past achievements. "With Papa!"
"I know he took you to feed the pigs," Daryl said. "But what else did you do? What'd you do 'fore we got here that was really exciting and I said to you that we had to tell your Ma? What'd you do in the prison—after you told me that'cha wanted to go do it?"
Sophia carefully considered Daryl's request again and Carol waited patiently with a smile on her face to encourage her daughter. Sometimes Sophia's stories took time, and sometimes they were difficult to follow, but Carol knew that the best way to keep Sophia improving was to keep her talking and to keep her telling stories. And everyone, no matter how big or small they were, liked to feel like their stories were valid.
The moment Sophia was finally coaxed into finding the right memory, her eyes went big and her smile returned.
"I pooped!" She declared loudly.
"Close enough," Daryl offered. "Not only did she poop, but she pooped in the potty. An' not only that, but she was the one that come to me—stopped what she was doin'—to tell me her tummy hurt an' she wanted to poop in the potty."
If anyone had told Carol that she would celebrate defecation—or any release of waste, really—with as much enthusiasm as she used to celebrate every successful trip to the potty, she would have called them crazy. It was a big deal, though, and she and Daryl celebrated it accordingly.
Carol didn't know at what age babies had once started to potty train. She didn't know at what age they were supposed to potty train. What she did know was that—whether they'd done right or wrong by Sophia—she and Daryl hadn't even attempted such a thing until they'd found the prison and gotten settled. The road offered them no consistency or stability. Likewise, when they'd first arrived at the prison, it had been impossible to tell whether or not it would work out. It wasn't until they'd bothered building their first two outhouses for the benefit of everyone, that they'd even really started working with Sophia. Soon, perhaps, they would have indoor toilets, even, to teach Sophia about something she'd never really imagined before.
As a result, Carol assumed that Sophia might be a little delayed in the area of potty training, but she was learning. She didn't really fight them on it, and she enjoyed copying them so it had helped to simply let her follow Carol to use the bathroom nearly every time she went, but their greatest issue was getting the little girl to tell them that she needed to go—especially when there were much more exciting things to do and see.
So, they celebrated, unembarrassed by anyone who might see or hear the three of them involved in a hearty round of congratulations for having used the potty, Sophia's tiny victory over, really, her attention span.
When they were done, in addition to the kisses that Carol heaped on her daughter, she pressed a kiss to Daryl's cheek as she transferred Sophia over to his arms from her own.
He smiled at her.
"If I knew I got kisses," he teased, "I'da worked harder to get her to go. She pissed down by the storage barn earlier, but since she just pulled down her pants and went without sayin' anything—I didn't mention it."
Carol laughed to herself.
"She just pulled her pants down and went?" Carol asked.
"Had the right idea," Daryl said. "Pissed all over her pants, but it was a good effort. I just washed her up and changed her. I get another kiss for that?"
Carol kissed him, this time, on the lips. She smiled against his lips, too, when she Sophia pressed a hand to her cheek—and she imagined one to Daryl's—and very quietly whispered "kissies."
"You taught her to do that," Carol teased.
"I taught her to look out for her old man," Daryl responded. "We gonna go start settin' out tools. Make it so they can see what we got on offer. I'ma take her to her Papa Hershey for a while. You need anything?"
"I'm just setting up cells," Carol said. "Sophia—be good and listen to Papa Hershel, OK? OK, Sophia?"
"OK, Mommy!" Sophia responded. "Bye bye!"
Carol waved bye to her daughter and blew her a kiss when Sophia did the same. Then she quickly returned to where Andrea was busy hanging out soggy sheets over the line to try and offer clean accommodations to their guests.
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"From this cell down to the end is open," Carol said. "Downstairs we'll have a few open if we need them. Don't worry if there aren't any blankets or sheets. We're washing those and getting them back on the beds as quickly as the sun can dry them. They'll be ready by tonight. For any of you that are going out to work with—with the animals or the farming or electricity or plumbing or construction or…or anything that's happening out there? I know you're anxious to get to work so just feel free to choose a cell, leave your stuff inside the cell or—if the cell is being picked apart at the moment, just leave it outside the cell. We'll be happy to put it inside for you as soon as we're done in there."
She waited a few moments while there was something of a scramble. There were many cells in the block that were unoccupied and unclaimed, but they wanted to clean them on a need-to basis. They hadn't been sure how many people would be coming from Woodbury to temporarily stay at the prison during the information exchange. The cells they'd chosen would cover a decent amount of people, without requiring them to bunk up if they didn't want that option, and they could always clear more cells if it was necessary.
Some of the people might choose to stay longer, and the option was certainly open to them, but they were expected to be staying about two months at the least. Together, the people of Woodbury would offer their skills to help get solar panels installed like the ones that backed up Woodbury when their generators failed.
In addition, they would help with plumbing, electricity, and going on some runs to find generators.
If there was time left over, or people found themselves otherwise unoccupied, they would help expand the fences, clean up the back of the prison, and advance into parts of the prison that hadn't been cleared of Walkers yet.
Carol and her family had agreed to exchange some assistance of their own.
With generators being a purely temporary solution for lack of power, and the grids not being entirely reliable, the people of Woodbury were beginning to panic over their future prospects. They hadn't learned to live "the hard way" and they weren't prepared to take care of themselves if their power should fail or if they needed to save strain on the grids.
At the prison, they would learn how to manage the cooking and cleaning without electricity. They would learn some sewing and some other simple chores to make life easier. They would get a lesson on farming and caring for livestock. With any luck, they'd find some additional livestock on runs for both the prison's stocks and for Woodbury's soon-to-be-built stock.
The people of Woodbury would be taught to hunt, and they'd be taught to build valuable things such as smokehouses and good barns for storing their supplies and food.
It would be an informational and cultural exchange in every direction. That was the idea behind it. They would help each other in ways that would benefit both communities and help them to thrive. The people of Woodbury would take what they learned back to the others that remained in Woodbury. After the exchange at the prison, some of the prison group would also have the option of going to Woodbury to help out there if they wanted.
They would become sister communities in every way and, through helping each other grow stronger, they would essentially help themselves.
When many of the people assigned to other jobs had cleared out, Carol was left with the few that, she assumed, would primarily be there to learn the more "domestic" chores.
"Y'all are the cleaning, cooking, and supplies crew?" Carol asked
"And medical," one woman offered.
Carol smiled at her.
"First-aid and medical will be handled in the evenings," Carol said. "That's me, too, but Hershel will be joining us. We can do that inside and he can only work with the animals and plants while it's still light enough to see. For now? We're getting started with our first lesson. And our first lesson is how to finish cleaning these cells, get the sheets and blankets washed, and start lunch—because we're going to have a lot of hungry people and not a lot of time to prepare."
"It sounds like a lot of work," another woman offered.
"It absolutely is," Carol assured her. "So, we better not waste any time."