Okay! So, barely any dialogue in this chapter (as hinted by the title), so just a heads up. Feel free to keep on reviewing, it is such a giant help, you have no idea (especially Guest: Megan! You're awesome!). And stick around for the audience participation question. :D
ENJOY!
19: Silence Before the Storm
In the morning, after a few tests with the flashlight, I declared Daryl fit for hunting again. This didn't stop me from going with him to make sure I made the right call, not that I wouldn't have gone anyway. Thankfully nothing strange happened in the woods, there were no freak zombie attacks or anything like that. He managed to nab a few turkeys and I managed to avoid conversation. What was there to talk about? It was better to just not for now. Walk in the silence of the trees trying not to think too hard about anything. Why? Because in a few months I would be working the field alone again, and hunting will be a thing of the past. People would be a thing of the past. I've done it before. I've done it before. I was alone and I was fine before.
When we entered the gate T-Dog and Rick were headed out to cut firewood. Theodore didn't say a word to me, but I could tell he knew. He gave me that look, and I could just tell. He knew that I knew that this was all just a last chapter. I walked through the house and into the kitchen, hoping that Lori would let Carl hang out with me, but no such luck. She sent me out, saying Hershel needed me. The decision was final, and it didn't just mean an empty house. It meant I was the obvious outsider once more. It meant sever all ties with Annie. It meant everything I wished it wouldn't mean.
With that loss I went and helped Hershel with preparing the field for winter. He followed me to the shed that housed the tarps. "I know Rick told you we are gonna be leaving soon."
"Everyone knows, don't they?" He nodded, his long face followed me as I pulled the tarps from their spot. "You don't need to help me with the field, you know? By the time it can be worked again you'll all be long gone."
"It's the least we can do. You let us into your home. I know that isn't easy."
"Nothing seems to be these days. I think easy is just a thing of the past." I smiled at him. "I appreciate the help, though. It will make spring go smoothly. At least smoother." After we started work on tarping the field it was almost time for dinner. I was happy when I got inside; Lori and Carol gave me a few tasks. I peeled the potatoes and set the table, before grabbing myself a plate and heading up to the roof. What was the use of sitting around a table with them now? At best I'd get a few knowing looks, and I worst someone would try to talk to me. I needed to get used to this again.
-o0o-
My days continued like that for those weeks before winter came. First I'd hunt with Daryl, then help Hershel, then dinner that I ate alone on the roof. Finally, after the long days, I spent the nights in the garage, cleaning weapons and trying to figure out what I could part with when the time came. It was just going to be me now, and I didn't need all of this stuff. All it would be is a nagging reminder that for a time I wasn't as alone as I would be. Once the time came, usually when everyone else had already shut their doors, Daryl would ask if I was going to unlock the door for him, then we'd go to bed. Each night I told myself that the next night I would make my move, but I kept finding excuses. Not just yet. Too soon and it would be awkward. Too soon and I would mess it up. When snow started to fall. That would be the day.
-o0o-
I didn't get to talk to Carl anymore. I guess I didn't realize exactly how much I'd grown to love that kid, I didn't want to say goodbye yet. At this rate I probably wouldn't even get to. I don't think I could bear not saying goodbye again. Not again. When I cleaned the guns I ran over what I would say. You can always come back? I love you buddy? Good luck out there? I could tell him how much having him around meant? Or how I thought he was the toughest guy I'd ever met, and the world had better watch out? Maybe I'd say we'd hang out again, that time would be kind and in less than a year we'd be laughing together again? Nothing felt right. No variation or combination seemed like it would be good enough. I decided that maybe a gift would be better. Maybe it could say what I couldn't seem to. I pulled a backpack out of a shed and filled it with things I thought might be useful. Compass, map, bandages, sheathed knife, general antibiotics, anything I thought might help out there. Some nights I would switch out things, or add one thing or another. Once I had the bulk of the pack filled I set out to find the perfect book for him. This was a harder task than I had imagined, but a part of me wouldn't let it rest. It was the crux. It needed to be just right. These would be my parting words; it would be what I leave him with. Every time I thought I found the right one I changed my mind. There was a flaw and this gift couldn't have flaws. But I had all winter.
Sometimes, when I was helping with dinner he'd say something funny to Lori, or Carol, or whoever was around, and I'd know it was meant for me. Inside jokes told in secret. Or occasionally he'd be writing in one of the journals Lori had made him keep, and he'd look up and I would mime that I cut myself peeling the potatoes or chopping something, I'd pretend I was dying silently behind the others' turned backs and he would stifle a giggle. That made up for the separation. Well, as much as anything could. The truth of the matter was that, in some sick way, he'd become my brother in my mind. He wasn't just some random kid whose group showed up one day, he was my own flesh and blood. He was my forever-best friend. And I'd have to lose him all over again.
Audience participation time! What book would you give to Carl if you were Annie? I'm interested to hear your responses. :)