Carol and Daryl lead the wagon train of twenty-five people who are visiting the Kingdom for the "winter festival." They glide a mile ahead of the rest, on his solar-powered motorcycle. Because the bike is smaller and thinner than his old chopper, there's not as much room for Carol, and she sits close behind, flush against his back, her legs pressed tightly to his, her arms wrapped securely around him as he shows off for her how fast his new creation can weave around debris.
When he gets too far ahead of the others, he leans the bike down toward the highway, circles back three-fourths a mile, and then makes a U-turn and zooms ahead again, popping a wheelie in the process, whether by accident or on purpose, Carol doesn't know. Either way, it makes her let out a surprised yelp and tighten her arms around him. Because the engine whines instead of roars, she can hear him laugh in response.
The ride is exhilarating, but it's also cold, despite her tightly buttoned brown suede jacket, leather gloves, knit hat, and well-wrapped wool scarf. The cold, mid-December air rips through the short strands of her silver hair, and she bends her neck to bury her frigid face against Daryl's back, where she breathes in the scent of leather, musk, and crisp winter air.
[*]
When the wagon train pulls through the gates of the Kingdom, Daryl parks his bike with the other vehicles – unhorsed carts, rickshaws, bicycles with cargo trailers, and a brown-and-black camouflage, rechargeable electric motorcycle. Carol, trailing a hand across his leather-clad shoulders, dismounts first. Daryl slides off and goes to examine the motorcycle.
Carol helps Hershey down from the large wagon cart, where he sits with Jesus and Gracie. Aaron has stayed behind to run things in Carol's absence, and, really, in the absence of over half of the Council – because Enid also sits in the cart with her boyfriend (and Carol assumes soon-to-be fiancé) Alden and Tara with her Oceanside girlfriend.
Henry hands over the reins of his horse to one stable hand and then helps another to unhook the horses from the cart. As the Kingdom's stable hands lead off the horses, the people from the Hilltop disperse, some finding old friends and others searching for new lovers. Henry promptly disappears, and Carol halfheartedly hopes he's not going to fool around with Jessica.
Michonne is the first to greet Carol and Hershey, with R.C. by her side. The two boys bump fists and then flutter their fingers in some secret handshake they developed when R.C. slept over at the Hilltop. Carol asks R.C. about his latest adventures in chess and if he's been doing anymore chemistry experimentation.
"I stawted a small fire," he admits, "but I put it out weal quick!" He still says his r's as w's half the time, which is one of the few things that reminds Carol he's only six.
"I put it out real quick," Michonne clarifies.
"Where's Judith?" Carol asks.
"In dress rehearsal for the play," Michonne tells her.
That explains why Ezekiel wasn't at the gate to greet them.
Daryl stands up from his crouched position by the motorcycle and walks over to join them. "Who's bike is that?" he asks Michonne as he ruffles R.C.'s dark brown hair in greeting – or at least digs his fingers into it and shakes it, because it's too kinky to actually ruffle. Smiling, the boy jerks his head away.
"It belongs to the Kingdom's head mechanic," Michonne answers. Mechanics used to fix trucks and cars, but now they mostly fix bicycles, wagons, and small, solar-battery-powered vehicles. "It's built so you can take out the battery and recharge it in a solar docking station. It has about an eighty-mile radius. I'll introduce you to her later, if you want."
"Her?" Daryl asks, and Carol laughs at the surprised look on his face.
"Her," Michonne repeats. "You haven't met her yet?"
Daryl shakes his head.
"Her name's Dawn. She and her husband Dante found us about two years ago. She used to be a motorcycle mechanic. He was an art teacher."
"Useful," Daryl says sarcastically.
"Ezekiel thinks so. He put Dante to work teaching in the school and painting sets for the big play today." She smiles affectionately. "Sometimes I think Zeke is wildly impractical, and sometimes I think he's struggling to preserve what makes us all human. I fight for our lives, and he builds a world worth living in."
"Mhmhm," Daryl murmurs skeptically. "Gonna be popcorn at this play?"
Michonne laughs. "No, but they'll be hot chocolate afterwards. And marshmallows for roasting."
[*]
Carol leans back against a sturdy workbench in the mechanic's shop. The high school campus on which Ezekiel chose to build his Kingdom had a number of vocational programs – including for mechanics – and the shop is well equipped. Carol listens with increasing boredom as Daryl and the Kingdom's head mechanic talk about bikes. Dawn's building something at the moment, which rests on cinder blocks and lacks a seat and tires.
If Carol was the jealous type, she'd be bothered by the fact that Dawn is only forty and well-figured, that her green eyes sparkle when she talks, or that she seems to be impressed by Daryl's knowledge of bikes.
Daryl is speaking what sounds like a foreign language to Carol, peppered with words like "electronic regulator," "voltage regulator," "electric harness controller," and "ignition switch." And Dawn is speaking that private language back: "…single file coil if you're interested. I could trade if you don't need that extra internal contact switch…."
If she were the jealous type, Carol would be glad Dawn is already married, but she's not the jealous type, and, besides, Daryl is married. He's not only married, but extremely loyal, which would make it extra ridiculous for her to be jealous.
"Mind if I take a closer look?" Daryl asks, and when Dawn nods, he pries off the engine cover.
Daryl has changed since Carol first met him, in only good ways. His temper is better controlled, and he's more social, as social as anyone could ever expect Daryl to be, anyway. Women aren't afraid of him anymore, and sometimes they even notice how good-looking he is, especially now that he's gotten rid of the scraggly hair. Carol thinks maybe Dawn notices, and that would bother her, if she were the jealous type.
But she's not.
Carol pushes off the workbench. "I think I'm going to go try to find Ezekiel to say hello before the play."
She takes one step toward the open door of the garage, and Daryl says, "He's busy, ain't he? Dress rehearsal or some shit?"
"I'm sure he wouldn't mind the interruption. You stay," she tells him. "Just meet me in the theater before the play starts."
"Ya sure?" Daryl asks.
"Of course," Carol says. She passes a gaggle of kids – including Hershey – playing kickball on the baseball field – and makes her way inside the school to the theater, which is locked with a sign that reads: Rehearsal in progress. So instead of greeting Ezekiel, she finds herself wandering the great foyer of the school and looking at the trophy cases.
The original school trophies have been either removed from the case of modified to celebrate the achievements of the Kingdom's residents. Plaques and trophies now celebrate the top students in the Kingdom's school, and the trophies honor the winners of the Kingdom's annual competitions in "knightly skills."
She sees Judith took first place in the youth firearms competition this year, that R.C. got the "Math Champion" school award, that Michonne placed first in swordsmanship and Dianne first in archery. Nabila received the "Best in Kingdom" award for her tomatoes at the "Annual Farm and Gardening Show," and some other man won accolades for his sizable pig. There are awards for blacksmithing, gunsmithing, art, music, writing, and architecture. There are even "humble servant" awards given to common laborers such as maids, launders, and gardeners. Jessica has received one such award, and Carol feels momentarily guilty for thinking so little of Henry's girlfriend.
Carol reads over the names in every category and files away the information. It's good to know who the talent is, in case the Hilltop ever needs to trade labor for labor, or in case the two communities need to go to war together again one day. There are some names she doesn't recognize, and she makes a mental note to ask Michonne about them later. She wonders, too, if the Hilltop should issue awards like this, if it would encourage healthy competition and self-improvement, or if, in their more egalitarian environment, it would come off as cheesy and forced or - worse yet - lead to accusations of special favors.
"Ain't with Zeke?"
Carol turns. She didn't hear Daryl's footsteps on the faux marble floor. She smiles slightly because he's followed her so soon instead of lingering in the garage with the hot mechanic. "The theater is locked until the play," she tells him. "I guess we'll just have to kill the time by making out under the staircase."
"Pfft."
"A walk, then?"
"Sure." He trails beside her as she begins to stroll from the foyer and into a long, locker-filled hallway.
"Dawn's pretty, isn't she?" Carol asks.
Daryl shrugs.
"You can say so," she assures him.
"I ain't stupid."
Carol chuckles. She laces her arm through his. "I always wanted to walk down the halls of my high school like this, on my boyfriend's arm."
"Why didn't ya?"
"Because I didn't have a boyfriend."
"Hell not?"
"I don't know if you remember this," she tells him, "but I used to be really shy and unassertive."
"Yeah. That didn't last long."
She laughs. "I suppose I was outgoing and adventurous back in elementary school, though. Junior high knocked all the confidence out of me. All those 7th grade girls making fun of my style – mocking my clothes because I was poor, and making fun of my appearance because I didn't have a mother to teach me how to put on make-up correctly."
"Fuck those girls," Daryl mutters.
"I drew inside myself by 8th grade, like a turtle into its shell. I concentrated on taking care of my widowed father." She's told him her father expected her to do all the housework when her mother died. He was a stern, distant man - not physically or sexually abusive, but demanding, critical, and unaffectionate, so unlike her caring, supportive mother, who died when Carol was eleven. "Ed was the first man who ever asked me out. I was twenty, and still living with my father. I'd taken an early morning job waitressing at a diner he used to go to after his night shift. I figured I'd better say yes when he asked me out, because I didn't think I was going to get any other offers."
"Why? Ya weren't this damn beautiful back then?" Daryl says it more like an honest, surprised question than an intentional compliment.
She smiles, cuddles closer, and rests her head on his shoulder as they walk. "Did you ever walk down the halls with your high school girlfriend like this?"
"Didn't have a high school girlfriend."
"No?" she asks. "Why not?" Despite all the years they've been together, he doesn't talk much about his past, at least not when it comes to women. When she asked about his "sexual history" before they had sex for the first time, she got a grand total of three facts out of him:
1. He lost his virginity at the age of fourteen to an "older girl" who babysat the neighbor's kids and who initiated the sexual encounter. How much older, he wouldn't say.
2. He hadn't had sex since at least six months before the Turn.
3. He didn't have any STDs.
"I don't know if ya 'member this," he tells her, "but I used to be an asshole." He smirks. "'Fore I got so damn charmin'."
Carol laughs. A door clangs open, and the sound echoes in the hallway. Daryl startles, rips his arm from hers, whirls, and reaches instinctively for the bow that's not on his back because he left it, along with his pack, in the trailer they've been assigned for the night. Carol is likewise reaching for the knife at her hip when she realizes it's just the front door of the school banging open. People are filtering in through the foyer and toward the theater doors, which are now open. "Shall we?" Carol asks.
"Ain't got much of a choice, do I?" Daryl replies.
"There's that charm," she teases. Carol takes his hand and tugs him toward the theater.
[*]
When Carol tries to walk down the stairs of the school theater toward the front rows, Daryl stops on the top stair and doesn't budge. She pauses and looks back at him, and he shakes his head ever so slightly. Carol sighs, mounts the steps, and follows him to the middle of the very back row. They slide into two old and creaky seats. "Is this because we didn't get to make out under the stairs?" Carol teases. She adores how he still, after all these years, ducks his head when she teases him.
"Stahp," he mutters before raising his head again. "Just don't like people behind me."
Below them, the audience is filling in. Hershey sits with Michonne and R.C. at the center of the fourth row. No one dares to sit in the first two rows, but the third through eighth rows fill quickly, and there are now only four empty rows between Carol and Daryl and the rest of the audience. Carol looks around but doesn't see Henry anywhere.
The stage is lit by electric, free-standing lights plugged into portable power packs. Like Hilltop, the Kingdom has a few solar panels and a windmill, but it doesn't generate enough electricity to live like they did in the 20th century. This is an extravagant use of power, Carol thinks, and not one she's sure the Hilltop Council would approve. At Hilltop, power is used primarily in the communal kitchens, the clinic, and for heating the water tanks that supply the bathhouses. They do keep a few portable power packs charged, but those are used sparingly and for necessary things like space heaters in dwellings with no fireplaces.
The stage lights flicker off and then on again, and a hush falls over the auditorium. Ezekiel, dressed as a rather formidable and sturdy looking Bob Cratchet, emerges on stage and, in a booming voice, welcomes all the visitors from Hilltop. He also gives a brief history of the life of Charles Dickens, although not brief enough, apparently, because Daryl shifts in his seat, which creaks and whines. Carol reaches over, takes his hand, and squeezes it as though to say – relax, you'll survive.
Daryl perks up later when Judith comes on the stage as, in this case, Tiny Tina. He sits up straight in his seat and leans forward a little. When she's off stage, he whispers, "Little Ass Kicker's good, ain't she?" Carol smiles and nods.
Partway through the first act, Henry sneaks in and takes a seat at the end of the empty, second row. Jessica isn't with him, but the play is showing again tomorrow night, and perhaps she has duties to tend to now.
Jerry makes a jolly and boisterous ghost of Christmas present – he's perfect for the character, and when he appears on stage, Carol glances at Nabila who is sitting several rows in front of them and holding their sleeping infant in her arms.
There's a standing ovation when the play wraps up, and Daryl appears confused by people rising to their feet. He's the last one up, and he hooks his thumbs through his belt hoops instead of clapping, as if he can't be bothered by such nonsense. But when Judith steps forward to make her individual bow, his thumbs slip out of the loops and he joins in the applause.