September 25, 2010
Shane is still feeling off balance even inside the house, emotions not settling well. Sophia's playing hostess still, bustling Merle off to a shower once they return. From the fresh clothing, he guesses Michonne and her son experienced similar.
She doesn't say anything, but the half hug she gives him in passing goes a long way toward reminding him of Merle's words about trust. Her casual affection isn't any different toward him than Duane's is toward Morgan or what he's witnessed between Carl and his parents.
Morgan joins Duane at the coffee table, where the boy's working on the latest puzzle the kids are tackling. It's not an activity Shane is especially fond of, but he chips in now and then.
"Is there anything Andre won't eat?" she asks Michonne. The woman's at the table with a cold drink, with Andre coloring next to her
"He is really not very picky, which has been a benefit in the last few months."
Sophia nods and studies the pantry. Shane knows there's a rabbit in the crockpot along with a barbeque concoction Morgan taught her to make, but it began with four people in mind.
"Do you think it will bother him to eat B-U-N-N-Y? I don't want to mention it and upset him. We can say it's chicken." Sophia's snagging canned goods and sliding them onto the counter next to the stove.
"He should be fine with rabbit. It'll probably be chicken he objects to if he ever gets to play with your flock."
Sophia laughs. "Makes sense."
"Do you need any help?" Shane asks. He thinks something to do might be a good thing right now.
"Might peel some potatoes from that batch we dug last week."
Shane gets off the couch and goes to gather up enough potatoes from the multi tiered potato bin Duane built under Morgan's direction this week. He fetches the bucket they use for kitchen scraps, a colander, and a paring knife. When he returns to the table to sit opposite Michonne, she's smiling.
"Is supper often a group effort?"
"I like to cook. Morgan's got a few choice dishes, and Sophia and Duane are learning as we go." Shane begins peeling the potatoes as he speaks, glancing over to see Sophia's preheating the oven. Since the evenings are cooler now, they're using the oven a little more.
"The bread and biscuits have been a lot of trial and error," Sophia adds. "Baking is too complicated. I don't know how my mama always made it look so easy."
"Lots of practice, I imagine," Michonne says, smiling after she takes a drink of her iced tea. "I never used to have the time or patience for it myself, but now that we can't get bread from the stores, I suppose learning how is a higher priority."
"I can do flatbread, easy. It's anything that needs to rise that's a problem."
"You should ask Merle. He makes pretty good biscuits even one-handed."
Sophia looks intrigued even as she sets out cookie sheets to bake the fries on. "I think I remember him and Daryl having biscuits back at camp now and then."
"They did. Think they took turns baking them in that little cast iron dutch oven they had." He thinks the Dixon brothers probably ate better than the rest of camp with their willingness to forage beyond the few things Shane knew like mushrooms.
"Chonne? You got the med kit handy?" Merle calls out as he comes down the hall. The man's lost weight, Shane thinks, probably due to the amputation. As rough as his own recovery has been, he thinks losing a hand would be harder.
"What do you need?" Michonne asks, going to rummage in a duffle bag.
"Got a blister forming."
"Can I take a look?" Sophia asks.
Shane expects Merle to object, especially since he has a towel draped over the arm that Shane assumes doesn't have the stump cover on. But the man looks at the girl for a moment and then nods, taking a seat on one of the barstools and resting his arm on the countertop.
"Ain't a pretty sight, but Walsh says you took care of an infected wound for him."
Sophia nods, reaching for the towel. He watches as Merle's shoulders stiffen despite his confident words, but the girl's expression remains curious. From his vantage point, he can't see anything really other than the clinical interest in Sophia's expression as she asks Merle to rotate the forearm.
"What are you wearing under the leather?" she asks at last.
"Sock."
"The seam is rubbing on your skin. The knife weight is making it rub, isn't it?"
"Yeah. I know they make special covers, but those aren't in the places we could access."
"Does it sweat a lot?"
"Yeah. Sock is usually pretty damp at the end of the day."
"Do you let it air out?"
"Sometimes."
Sophia's brow furrows in that way Shane knows it does when she's working out a problem in her head. "I'll be right back."
While the girl is gone, Michonne sets the med kit on the counter. She's looking curious as Sophia returns with a collection of items in her arms. She dumps them in front of Merle and fetches the kitchen shears.
"I get the antiperspirant, lotion, and the pantyhose, but you've got me baffled on the lady products," the redneck drawls. He doesn't seem offended.
Sophia taps the textbook she retrieved. "It says keep everything dry on an amputation. But you don't want it too dry, or the skin will crack. How long do you need these?"
Merle taps a spot on his forearm and she rolls the material out beside his arm before cutting.
"These are tights, so they're more durable than pantyhose and softer than knit socks. Best part is no toe seam." She hands the first 'sock' to Merle, who rubs the material thoughtfully.
"Won't that be hot?"
"Sometimes, but that's what the pantyliners are for. If you put one down in the leather cover, it'll soak up sweat. But you should keep extra socks too, and change them often. Spray your arm with the antiperspirant, obviously."
Sophia's snipped four socks now, sacrificing leggings Shane knows she collects for winter layering. Merle doesn't seem offended by the idea, instead tugging the textbook over and finding the chapter Sophia directs him too.
"We'll need to find more of these tights," Michonne says, inspecting one. "Where did you find them?"
"Boutique kid shop in town. They didn't have a lot in this size, but he might try the next size down, too. The sizes are more a problem for the length and waistband."
"And the moleskin?" Merle asks.
"If you have to use something with a seam, put a strip under where the seam will ride. Mama taught me that when my socks bothered my feet. You can turn socks inside out too."
"Your socks still bother you, Fee?" Shane asks as he starts slicing potatoes he's peeled.
"Not the ones I have now. And my boots and shoes fit better now too."
It takes Shane a minute to really connect the dots of how cheaply dressed the girl always was. He can't imagine Ed spending a lot of money for Sophia's care, so Carol probably had to adapt where she could. He doesn't comment on it.
"You really should let it air when you can, Mister Dixon, especially since you are probably wearing the prosthetic more than you should two months after it happened. If it gets really infected, you'll lose more of it."
Merle sighs deeply. "It's damned ugly."
"Walkers are ugly." Sophia shrugs. "This is just you. But if it bothers you, one of these will at least let the skin breathe."
She picks up one of the improvised stump covers and slides it on gently. The purple fabric is definitely intended for a girl's taste. "There. Pretty."
Sophia flashes Merle an impish grin before stepping around the bar to retrieve the colander of French fries Shane prepared. Michonne looks amused, so Shane can only imagine Merle's expression.
As Sophia gets the fries rinsed, dried, and seasoned for the oven, he returns the scrap bucket to its spot and retrieves the asparagus from the fridge and sets it to steam in the rice cooker.
Shane checks the cans she chose earlier as he waits on Sophia to load the oven. They don't normally add a third side, but it is the best way to expand the meal other than bread. Oven is occupied.
"Wasn't there a bread machine at the same neighbor house that had the rice cooker?" Shane muses as he opens the cans of hominy.
"I think they had every kitchen gadget ever sold."
"Bet Morgan can figure them out." He's the one who demystified the rice cooker, after all.
"We'll go get them tomorrow."
"How long will you stay?" Shane asks. "I figure you'll want to keep looking for your brother."
Merle's still seated at the bar, but Michonne's back at the table with Andre. He glances over his shoulder and the woman nods.
"If you're willing, Chonne and Andre could use a place to stay. Ain't right to keep the boy on the road, but I wasn't leaving them in the city fringes either."
Shane doesn't really have to look at the other three residents to know their answers, but he gives them the courtesy anyway before answering Merle.
"They're welcome as long as they want to stay. You should make this your base. I can't always go out with you, and it might not even be advisable, but I can help from time to time. Food, supplies, fuel we have plenty of."
"I can help with the search, if needed," Morgan says. "Duane is safe and happy here with Shane and Sophia, if I needed to be away overnight, right, Duane?"
The boy nods. "Fee's mama is with Mister Dixon's brother, right?"
"Last I knew, yeah," Shane answers.
"I'm okay with you looking. We kinda owe Fee that."
Morgan reaches out to tug his son into a tight hug. Merle and Michonne look puzzled, so Shane steps closer to quietly share that Sophia put down Jenny.
The timers ding and he moves away to help finish supper.
"Duane? Snag the desk chair out of your room."
The boy jogs off to retrieve the chair, and Michonne adjusts the dining chairs to make room for it. With that added, they have enough seating if the older kids sit at the bar. He needs to see about a bigger table with the new additions. Gloria would probably love her table seeing use again.
Shane confesses to being a little surprised when Merle complies with Duane's wish to say grace.
The man catches his side glance, because he smirks just a little. His response is pitched low enough the kids don't hear.
"Might not have lived a godly life, but you didn't touch a crumb on my granny's table without saying grace when I was their age. If the kid needs to say grace, I can bow my head."
Shane just nods, understanding more of the man now. He wonders if it's a side effect of a sober Merle or if kids are a soft spot in any form. Michonne certainly doesn't seem to mind that her young son is seated between her and the redneck.
Michonne disperses some of the intensity after a few bites of dinner. "I didn't know you could find fresh asparagus in the fall without supermarkets."
"The lady whose gardens we've harvested the most from had two asparagus plots. One for spring and one for fall. If you don't harvest in spring, it'll produce in the fall," Sophia explains.
"And since she sold her produce, she kept better records than a casual gardener," Shane adds. "We've been canning and freezing everything we can salvage. That garden and the others we've found."
"Been digging potatoes a little every day. Let them cure in the sun, then take them to the root cellars. We'll probably have enough for the whole winter." Sophia sounds especially proud of that fact.
"Even with extra mouths to feed?" Michonne asks, looking concerned.
"We have been collecting canned goods and dry goods too," Shane reassures her. "The gardens are just extra insurance, just like Sophia's gardens here."
"Everything is about extra insurance," Morgan says. "We still need an alternate to the house heating system."
"You have electricity, but no heat?" Michonne runs a finger down the condensation on her glass, where ice cubes bob in the tea.
"Heat's propane. Winter here may not be like Montana, but the tank won't last the winter."
"Easy enough to refill it. Can teach you two how if you show me the propane company."
Merle shrugs when everyone turns to him. "Worked for a propane company back when I could still have a CDL. Place won't have years worth on hand, but enough for winter, yeah. And swiping tanks off other properties will gain you more."
Morgan pauses with a forkful of barbeque rabbit near his mouth. "Just change out the physical tank. Damn."
"Yeah. You might still put in a backup system. Wood stove would be better than a fireplace for the long term. Even with plenty of propane, the heat unit could fail, and HVAC is not among my checkered work history."
"Mine either," Morgan says, finally remembering the bite and chewing thoughtfully. "Can't be hard to learn, right? If Sophia's figuring how to patch living people together and growing food from books, we could learn other things."
"Community college over at Thomaston. Sophia and I drove by coming back from Columbus."
"Another for the list," Sophia chirrups. "It's getting really long."
"What all is on this list?"
"Rest of the stores in town, the hospital, and finding more of the farms before the animals die or walkers find them." Sophia rattles off ideas with ease.
"And gas before it all goes bad," Duane adds.
"Pushing those limits already," Merle says. "Too much ethanol. Be better to clear military vehicles for the long haul. Damn things will run on just about everything. Use jet fuel overseas postings."
"You were a Marine," Sophia states. "I remember you and your brother talking about it one day."
"Was once. Didn't stick as a career, but I do remember a thing or two."
"Like knives?"
Shane thinks it says a lot about their world that no one flinches from a teenage girl hinting for Marine combat training.
Merle nods. "You want to learn a blade, girl?"
"Yes. I know how with walkers. But that's not the same."
"Alright. Don't suppose it'll hurt to take a few days break. Help clear the hospital and that military checkpoint outside. Start some lessons. Chonne can help there."
"Need a different blade than a katana for her."
Merle laughs at their inquiring looks. "Chonne is deadly with that damned Japanese blade of hers, but she's right. It's heavy for a girl Sophia's size. Know any blade enthusiasts round here, Walsh?"
"Two or three." They've seen no sign of local survivors so far, so gleaning from the more useful homes should take priority.
"Guess I'm staying put a bit then. Baby brother should be able to keep himself in one piece a while longer."
Michonne looks around the room. "Tomorrow, you boys go figure out what it'll take to clear that hospital. I'll start the kids on a few lessons they need before we ever put a blade in their hands."
Duane squeaks, but it isn't a protest. "Me too?"
"No reason for you not to learn, and you're small enough that self-defense techniques for women will be appropriate. That is, if your father doesn't object."
Morgan shakes his head. "I will never turn down a lesson that makes my son better equipped to survive this world."
It isn't until later, when Morgan and Duane are doing dishes and Sophia's helping Michonne set up to share her room, that Shane finds himself with a partner for the evening patrol of the fenceline.
Merle is quiet for the first half, enough so to almost make Shane uneasy. He's never known the man to be quiet, but neither of them are the same men they were three months ago.
"When Daryl and I first came across your camp, I had every intention to take what we needed and leave, soon as you let down your guard."
Shane snorts. "That theory did cross my mind. Why didn't you?"
"Sophia. Damn little mouseling scurried into our camp hiding out from her old man and batted those big blue eyes at Daryl. Weren't no way in hell Daryl was taking food or protection away from a kid that lost in the world."
Merle rubs at the stump enough Shane wonders if it hurts.
"I didn't really understand it until the choice was get sober or die. Chonne would have killed me herself if I slipped around her boy, and I sure as hell wasn't gonna make it without her."
Shane understands that. He might not have been under the influence of drugs, but his memories of the time at the Greene farm almost feel like he was. Out of control and dangerous to others.
He only survived the stab wound by luck and the driving need to keep Sophia safe.
"Sober, I remembered how many times I left Daryl to fend for himself with our old man after our mama died. That's what he saw when that girl came looking for a hidey hole."
"Another lost kid."
"He won't stop looking for her. But he also won't begrudge me staying put to keep building on the fact that she's a wily little survivor."
Shane feels guilty he isn't going out to search. He might not be welcome with Rick's group, but King County is safer than wandering.
"Would he break off from Rick's group if they stopped looking?"
"In a fucking heartbeat. He would even leave the girl's mama behind if she tried to stop. He's going to find her or her walking or die trying."
"Sophia kept a map of where we left notes. If they haven't come here, those places can be marked off your list."
"Appreciate it."
They're reaching the stairs when Merle speaks again. "You good if I fill in your blanks for Chonne?"
"She's got the right to know." His skin crawls at the idea, but at least he doesn't have to say the words again. She deserves to know, if she's staying.
Another set of eyes on him might be exactly what he needs.