I did not beat him at gin.
My confidence far exceeded my ability to the point that it should be embarrassing. One game turns into two which turns into four, and by the time Houser shows up to relieve me, I have only one victory under my belt.
Joel waits as I get up from the chair and collect myself, returning the cards to their spot in the drawer and picking up the now empty thermos. Every nerve in my body is simultaneously numb from the cold yet vibrating continuously from the generous amount of caffeine I have consumed in such a short time. The blanket remains wrapped around my shoulders as I hand him the thermos.
"You can have this back, but the blanket stays until we get back to our houses." I tell him, dreading the walk ahead of us.
He sets the thermos right back down on the ground and begins pulling an arm from his jacket.
"Take my coat," He says, sliding the brown leather jacket from his shoulders with ease. "You're gonna freeze walking with nothing but that blanket,"
"I'm not wearing your jacket," My tone is alarmingly direct, but the severity is somewhat negated by how ridiculous I look with this blanket draped around me.
"Don't be so damn stubborn," He holds the jacket out adamantly in my direction. "I'm not answerin' to Tommy when he comes around demanding an explanation about why you've lost your damn fingers to frostbite,"
I pull a hand out from under the blanket to sarcastically wiggle said fingers in his direction, but he seizes the opportunity and shoves his jacket into my open hand before I can stop him.
"Don't be so damn stubborn," I parrot back at him in a dramatic parody of his thick accent, which I immediately regret. "Sorry, that was too far…"
"You're sassy when you're cold," The corners of his eyes crinkle as he laughs, a hearty chuckle that fades into a sigh as he slowly shakes his head. If my imitation offended him, there is no evidence.
"I'm sassy all the time, you just haven't earned the right to see it yet," I swallow my pride and remove the blanket from my shoulders, slipping my arms into the jacket he has thrust upon me. I am immediately enveloped in the rich, musky scent of leather, smoke, and pine that seems to permeate the weathered material.
We walk home mostly in silence, a brilliant swath of stars decorating the night sky above. My focus falls on the plumes of vapor that escape my lips with each breath, watching them fade away into the crisp, chilled air as we move.
This looks bad.
The thought repeats like a chant in my mind, following the rhythm of my heavy steps. It is after midnight and I'm not only walking home with Joel, but also wearing his jacket. And of course the damn thing fits like being embraced in a warm, comforting hug.
Most people will be asleep by now, but I still contemplate taking a longer, but more secluded route back to our street to avoid being seen. I'm just not sure how to approach the topic with him without making things incredibly weird. So we continue down the main roads, passing through shadows between street lights as our boots thunk against the pavement.
His house is first to come into view as we turn onto Rancher Street. It takes him a moment to realize I stop walking at the foot of his front steps, taking a few steps forward before turning back to where I stand. I'm not walking any further, and he absolutely is not walking me to my door. A final wave of the jacket's scent washes over me as I hesitantly pull my arms from within.
"Thanks," I hand him his jacket back, and I am surprised he accepts it without argument. "I hate to admit it, but you made sitting in the cold watching a cow just lay around a little more tolerable."
"Careful now. Anyone hears you talking like that and they may think you don't actually hate me,"
"I never said I hated you," I remind him, beginning to walk toward my own home. "I said I don't trust you. But maybe hate is a more accurate term after the way you humiliated me at my own game tonight,"
He doesn't put the jacket back on, instead just allows it to hang over his arm as I walk past him, trying to ignore the chill that hangs in the air. He waits until I have taken a few steps before speaking.
"You could always come over tomorrow night for a rematch,"
If I wasn't so stubborn, I'd ignore his provocation and move on with life as usual. But I am stubborn, and he knows this and that it is highly unlikely I will back down from his challenge.
And that is exactly how I find myself becoming friends with Joel Miller.
Over the course of the next month, I really did not improve - but we also quit keeping score after the second rematch. That was almost three weeks ago, and tonight is the fourth time I've found myself drinking and playing cards under the flickering light on his back porch.
With the coffee supply depleted, the drink of choice becomes whatever liquor we have on hand. Maybe I can blame that on why I continue to lose more often than not.
"Okay, seriously, this is the last hand I am playing," I insist, nursing the last few sips of whiskey in my glass as the cards Joel shuffle click loudly against the plastic table. "I have to be up a lot earlier than normal tomorrow and need to get at least a little sleep."
"You say that anytime you're losin'..." He deals the last hand before sipping his own drink and assessing his cards.
"Well, I mean it this time. Maria called a leadership meeting in the morning and its ridiculously early for some reason."
"Right, Tommy mentioned that." He discards one from his hand and patiently waits on my move. "Who all goes to those things again?"
"Usually Maria and Tommy, of course. Then me, Eugene, Earl, sometimes Houser and uh, Esther." Faltering when mentioning her name is completely unintentional. He seems to notice my strange behavior, but chooses to let it slide. I have no idea where they stand with each other and have not felt led to ask, because it really isn't any of my business.
"I see," He keeps the cards in his hands and nods to indicate my turn. "She say why she wants to meet tomorrow?"
"I think she wants to create a permanent patrol rotation," I don't know this for sure, but it seems like a natural next step. The reactive patrols we send out have been happening more frequently as the number of Infected spotted in the area keeps increasing, and we are all becoming a little unsettled. The idea of a more proactive patrol has been discussed before, but never fully came to fruition.
"Probably a good idea. Seems like we keep coming across more and more of 'em every time we're out." Another card discarded before he reorganizes his hand - usually a telling sign that he's only a card or two away from winning. I may not be great at beating him, but I've developed a close to flawless ability to spot his tells. Reorganizing his cards means he's got a near-winning hand, but if he rubs his chin after staring at his hand for a few seconds, he's really stumped.
"Probably," I agree, discarding from my hand and waiting for him to announce his win at any moment. "I guess we'll see in the morning."
Before he has a chance to respond, I hear an exasperated sigh from behind where I sit.
"Seriously? This is like the third fucking night you've been out here this week. Does this not get boring by now?"
Ellie is standing at the bottom of the porch steps, backpack thrown over her shoulders and hands shoved in the pockets of her jeans. My eyes are immediately drawn to her arm, which is covered in lines of fresh black ink. I cannot make out the images as she stands among the shadows outside the range of the porch light, but they almost look like palm leaves.
"Hey, kiddo," Joel greets her, seeming unfazed by her acknowledgement of my more frequent presence. "Why don't you come play? We're about to deal a new hand right now,"
He lays his cards out on the table and, just as I predicted, shows a winning hand.
"No! I was very clear that I'm done for the night." I remind him, taking the last sip from my glass before standing up, pushing my chair under the table. "Ellie, come put this man in his place. He's getting a little too confident and needs to be taken down a notch."
"I'm good," She is clearly uncomfortable, swaying slowly as she watches me walk down the steps. "You don't have to leave just because I'm here. I didn't mean to interrupt you guys, I'm just headed to bed…"
"You didn't interrupt anything…" I start to protest, but Joel speaks over me as he laughs.
"The only thing you're interrupting is her losing yet another round," He shuffles the cards before arranging them in a tight, clean pile. "Maybe you'd have an easier time if we switched to something a little less challenging. How are your Go Fish skills?"
"Oh, fuck off!" I want to sound angry at this belittling suggestion, but instead a defeated laugh escapes as I roll my head to the side. "Goodnight, both of you."
"I'm headed to bed," Ellie waves and walks away even faster than I do, leaving Joel to clean up the glasses and cards from the porch. He holds both glasses by the rim in one hand and waves as I walk off.
–-
The Millers host our leadership meeting at their home over breakfast, which includes a plate full of eggs from Eugene's chickens. We pull up extra chairs and sit elbow to elbow around the old dining room table even after the plates are cleared, now replaced by two large maps, several leatherbound notebooks, and pens. The entire group is here this morning, just as I predicted the night before. Maria and Tommy sit opposite each other at the ends, while Eugene, Earl, and I sit across from Esther and Houser.
"Alright, Maria, what is all this?" Eugene gestures to the maps, leaning his chair back on two legs. She holds our attention for a moment before addressing the group.
"As we all know, there has been a continually growing number of Infected in the surrounding areas in the past month. Patrols are being sent out more frequently than ever, and we are not seeing any change in this pattern. Some days are calmer than others, but we are still seeing more than we'd like. Tommy and I have been talking through it, and we think it would be best to establish a permanent patrol rotation to keep the region clear."
"It's not a bad idea," I quickly agree with her, looking over the maps in front of us and how certain locations are surrounded by large circles. "What would that entail exactly?"
"Partners," Tommy says, standing up from his chair and starting to lean over the maps. "We'll establish pairs that patrol the same areas together, that way we have people who are familiar with specific spots and can keep track of notable changes to the area. By stayin' in the same pairs, we'll also build more trust with each other and be able to perform more efficiently."
"Then we split the surrounding areas into routes and assign pairs to each one," Maria points to the marked circles. "Ideally we'll send out a pair in the morning, then a pair to relieve them. Each area will have a designated lookout and a log book for each patrol to sign off on and keep notes in about their patrol that day."
"Damn, y'all really have got a whole system planned out," Earl picks up one of the notebooks and flips through the blank pages.
"How many pairs are you envisioning?" Esther asks. "We'll likely need a decent number of people, since we would need backups in case of an emergency. Will that impact other assignments?"
Maria and Tommy exchange a look I have seen so many times before, like they are reading each other's mind. They have something potentially controversial to say, and are deciding who has to be the one to do it.
"That's the other thing we wanted to bring to the group," Maria explains, her voice calm and calculated. "We all know this is a big undertaking, and a job that will require specific training and skill sets. We need to be incredibly intentional about who we assign and how we go about creating the pairs. Putting all of these factors into consideration, we are proposing bringing a new member into this group to be among the lead patrolmen."
The discussion of adding someone to the leadership group has come up before, but never for such a specific task. There is an uncomfortable tension growing as we all look around the table, building anticipation of this proposed addition.
"Who are you thinking?" Houser asks, looking back and forth between Tommy and Maria.
"Well, I think that answer should be pretty apparent," Tommy finally answers. "We want to bring Joel on for this assignment,"
This suggestion should not blindside me, because it makes complete sense. Joel is among the most skilled in our community and consistently goes out on the current patrols we assign. He and Tommy would make a natural pair, and likely train the others as well. But for some reason, my body is gripped with an unusual discomfort upon hearing his name and picturing him seated among this table for regular meetings.
"I think it makes sense," Esther is the first one to respond. "Would he be paired with you, Tommy?"
"Yeah," Tommy nods. "Joel and I would be the lead, train the other pairs and keep things running smooth and efficient. Maria will handle the scheduling logistics, pair assignments, all that stuff."
"Well shit, sign me up!" Eugene leans so far back that I fear his chair may fall over. "I don't think any one of us is going to protest. We all gotta protect our home, and Joel has more than proven himself to be a reliable member of our humble little community."
"I think Joel would be a great addition to the group," Esther agrees. I catch myself watching her expression, trying to analyze if there is more to what she is saying. Nothing seems out of the ordinary when she talks about him, her tone earnest and straight forward.
"And what about you?" Eugene ribs me with his elbow and brings the front legs of his chair slamming to the floor. "I'm shocked you're not blowing smoke out your ears right now."
"I think it's a good idea," It takes me a moment to realize that the entire room is watching me and not saying a word. "What? I'm serious. Let's create this patrol job and bring Joel in to help lead it."
"You're really in favor of this?" Maria asks cautiously, her expression somewhere between skeptical and surprised.
"Yes, I am," I am trying so hard to keep my tone neutral and not make a big deal of the fact that my former distrust of the man is apparently so commonly known. "He's clearly the perfect fit for this,"
"Alright, then it's a plan," Tommy gestures to the map. "We've split the area up into six zones, which you can see laid out here. What we need to do next is bring Joel into the group and start layin' out the logistics and assignin' pairs."
We discuss a realistic timeline for this, noting the need to get things moving as quickly as possible. Maria decides she will be the one to approach Joel and after he is committed, our group will reconvene to dive into the technical, strategic details. After agreeing to a date later in the week, we're dismissed and start collecting our things to go about the rest of our day. I am barely up from my chair when Tommy gently grabs my arm, leaning closer and speaking in a low voice.
"Hey, I gotta go check on somethin' over at the stables, but how about we grab a drink this afternoon? Catch up a little,"
"It's barely nine in the morning and you're already thinking about getting a drink?" My nose scrunches into a sneer in his direction. "Does Maria know about this little habit?"
"I'm not asking you because I'm focused on drinkin'," He shakes his head at me, knowing it is in jest. "Seriously, let's go catch up. How 'bout around three? Give you some time to get your new people settled in with the gardening."
"Fine," I slip my own jacket on and prepared to walk out. "I'll see you over at the Tipsy Bison at three,"
"Good deal, good deal," He lays a heavy handed slap against the back of my shoulder as he goes past, getting Earl and Houser's attention before they head out as well.
I look around and notice that Esther has already gone.
Tommy is waiting at the bar when I walk through the door of the Tipsy Bison a few minutes after three. The round tables lining the room are occupied by varying groups sipping from the mismatched cups Seth has collected, chatting happily over the sounds of twanging banjos pouring out from the old stereo in the corner. Near the back of the room, a handful of young people from the Denver group challenge each other to a game of darts, the boarding hanging from the dark wooden wall that has become scraped and pocked by stray darts over the years.
"You came!" Tommy sips a glass full of amber liquid, pulling out the barstool next to him as I approach.
"Why wouldn't I have come?" I take the seat next to him and give him a confused look. "Since when have you known me to flake on you?"
"Eh, I don't know. After this morning, I wasn't sure you'd want to be speaking to me or Maria for a little while," He waves at Seth behind the bar and gestures from his cup to me, indicating I need one as well.
"What exactly would my issue have been about this morning?" My best bet is to feign ignorance about the way everyone expected me to blow up at the mention of Joel. Plus, creating an established patrol assignment is one of the first things we have unanimously agreed on for a while. Not that the meetings really get heated, but there have been several moments where in depth discussion was required to reach a conclusion suitable to all parties.
"Bringin' Joel into leadership. We both thought you'd be ready to have our heads for even suggestin' the idea. But you were cool as a goddamn cucumber about the whole thing. This ain't one of those situations where you seem cool with something at first and then jump me in a dark alley later, is it?"
I keep forgetting that aside from Ellie because she comes home through the back yard, no one has seen that Joel and I are getting along now. Our daytime responsibilities have kept us generally in opposite locations, with me getting the Denver group more comfortable working independently in the gardens while he has gone on patrols with Tommy or worked on various building projects around town. Outside of playing cards on his back porch, we have not had a lot of interaction.
I may regret it later, but I decide to test the waters with Tommy. If we're going to be sitting on leadership together, it's only a matter of time before it comes to light that I am one of the biggest hypocrites Jackson has ever seen. Thankfully, Seth sets my drink down in front of me right as I make this decision, buying me a moment to collect my thoughts as I take the first sip.
"So, about that…" I take another sip, letting out a soft sigh through gritted teeth. "Joel and I have been getting along better lately. Nothing crazy, I just…realized I may have been a bit harsh in my initial judgment of him and we talked it out. So we're good."
"I'm glad to hear that," Tommy nods, giving serious consideration to what I am saying. "Surprised, but glad. It's not exactly like you to change your mind on things."
"I'm capable of changing my mind every now and then. It was just a lot to take in, you know? You've always talked about how hard things were for you two after the Outbreak, and all the stories about things he did…How did you expect me to greet him?"
"I understand, I do. We don't need to dwell on it. I'm just glad you're comin' around. That was all it took, huh? One little talk and you're fine and good?"
"It was more than one talk," I cannot believe I am admitting this to him, but I have known him long enough to know he'll keep pushing the issue. The downside of being so close with Tommy and Maria is that they know me equally as well, which means they can both sniff out when I am hiding even a tiny part of the truth. "We've been hanging out some, just like a night or two during the week."
Tommy's head turns slowly, looking at me as though I have suddenly sprouted two extra heads. You would think I had just told him something completely outrageous, like the sky is purple.
"Don't look at me like that," I shove his arm, hoping to bring a light, playful tone to the interaction. "I told you, we're getting along better. We just play cards and talk the mundane things that happened on our assignments that day. It's not like we're having some deep, late night talks about our deepest hopes and fears."
It scares me a little that Tommy has not spoken yet. He is always the first to react and speak up, not the one to silently brood on information.
"Well shit, that explains why he hadn't been callin' on Esther lately…"
"Jesus, Tommy! Not like that!" My protest is a little too loud, catching the attention of a group at the table closest to us. "We're tolerating each other now. That's it."
"You sure? Cause I've tried my damn hardest to get them together, but nothin' seems to work." He sounds almost defeated, sliding his glass forward for Seth to refill as we talk.
"What do you mean? I thought they were seeing each other pretty often," From the way Tara and Astrid teased her that afternoon before square dancing, it sounded like they had been seeing a lot of each other, or at least enough that Esther did not deny their implied relationship.
"Nah," Tommy shakes his head in frustration and takes a long sip of his drink. "I asked Astrid to help me set them up, you know, since she and Esther are so close. Accordin' to her, Esther made dinner for him once and they went to that movie night - you know, the animal one you hate so much - and then they didn't really see each other again aside from her bumpin' into him and invitin' him to square dancin'. But now it makes sense why he was so fuckin' stubborn about going to dance with her instead of knitting socks with you…"
"Tommy, this entire train of thought needs to come to an immediate halt," I tell him sternly, waving an open palm in his direction to emphasize my point. "Like, shut it down. Maybe the reason is just that they didn't hit it off. That happens all the time with plenty of people. It's incredibly normal."
"Maybe," He shakes his head again. "I'm just happy you two are friendly at this point. Fuckin' tired of walking on eggshells around you in case you decided to stab him,"
"I've never threatened him, just so we're clear,"
"Not to his face, you didn't. But you made it very clear how you've felt." He twists the glass in a circle between his hands, lips pursed.
"Everything is good, Tommy. I think the patrol assignment is a great idea and I think bringing Joel on to lead is a great decision. I have admitted I was too quick to judge him and have worked out our issues. So, see? Nothing to worry about,"
"You know I'm always going to worry," His expression softens. "But I believe you, and I appreciate you. Thanks for meeting me. I gotta run and help Houser out at the barn with replacing part of the fence."
"You're welcome," I have barely had a third of my drink, but I slide it back across the bar regardless. I actually have a free afternoon for once and would rather spend it working on some projects at home than drinking alone at the Tipsy Bison.
I will never stop being amazed at how quickly news travels around Jackson.
Not even an hour after we parted ways at the bar, Tommy attempted to climb part of the fence to repair it and lost his footing, severely spraining his ankle when he fell.
I cut through the greenhouses on my way home, stopping to talk with Bonnie for a minute before enjoying my afternoon off. That was when Dina came through and told us, recounting the story that Jesse told her about how it all went down. I chose not to overwhelm Maria for the truth, knowing that if he was seriously injured then I would be informed in due time.
I spend the rest of the afternoon working on a blanket I have been crocheting from a simple pattern I have mastered over the years. After helping mend the clothes for our new neighbors, I realized we'll be facing a similar need in the winter months for blankets so it would not hurt to start making some now.
The afternoon passes peacefully, and since no one has come by with any urgent update on Tommy, I assume that his injury is no worse than the sprain originally reported by Dina. I crack the window in my kitchen before washing the dishes from dinner, letting in the cool evening breeze.
As I scrub the last dish and move to place it on the drying rack by the sink, I hear steady rapping on the front door. The knock lacks the urgency of someone reporting serious news, so I assume it is not any dire update on Tommy, which means I am not sure who would be stopping by unannounced tonight.
"I'm coming!" I call out, drying my wet hands on the closest dish towel while walking toward the entryway. Splotches of water are spread across the front of my shirt, leaving damp spots that cannot be helped with a basic hand towel. I dry my hands as best I can and adjust the loose sleeves on my shoulders. Before reaching for the front door knob, I throw the damp towel over my shoulder, allowing it to rest over the exposed scarred area without even thinking about it - it's just instinctual at this point.
The door has not even fully opened before I recognize the distinct stature of the visitor on my porch, but the first thing that stands out is his unusual, almost nervous posture. He stands sideways, as if he debated walking away after knocking if I had not arrived when I did. I don't recall a time when I have seen Joel look nervous before.
"Hey," I lean against the doorframe and watch him for a minute, arms crossed. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, yeah…" He looks down at a small bundle of cloth he holds in his hands, then up at me, "You got a second? There's something I wanted to talk to you about,"
"Sure," I step aside and gesture for him to come in, closing the door once we are both inside. He waits uncomfortably only a few steps inside the door, and it hits me that this is the first time he has ever seen the inside of my house. Without saying anything, I walk into the living room and he follows, taking a seat on the couch only after I do.
His eyes are still on the parcel in his hands, and I simply watch him in confused silence while trying to decipher the very strange situation before me.
"Do you want anything to drink?" I resort to the only question that seems even reasonably normal right now, hoping it will prompt him to speak.
"I'm good, thank you though," He finally looks up and makes eye contact with me, his expression one I have not seen from him yet. His forehead creases between his eyebrows as he rubs the grey hair along his chin.
"Are you okay? You seem like something might be wrong," If nothing else, we've established that being direct has worked well for us so far, so I might as well give it a try.
He rubs his thumb along the seam of the material in his hands before letting out an exaggerated exhale through his nostrils. It feels like an eternity before he speaks.
"I need to ask you something, and it's bad timing honestly, because I had already planned to give you this tonight, but now it kind of looks like a bribe," He holds out the bundle in his hands, but I am not sure I am supposed to take it from him yet.
"Am I supposed to take this from you?"
"Take it, but don't open it yet. I'd rather you wait until I've gone home," He admits. "Listen, I…I don't know if you know this, but Ellie's birthday is coming up. Sixteen, so it's kind of a big one. And I want to do something real special for her."
"That's sweet," I tell him, and I genuinely mean it. She had not mentioned her birthday during our rotations together, so I had no idea. "What are you thinking about doing?"
"Maria told me about this museum, an old science museum from before. It's a little ways north and no one has actually gone to check it out, but they've ridden through the area plenty of times and seen it from a distance. Got this big dinosaur statue out front and everything. I thought I might go check it out, make sure it's cleared and safe and see if there's anything inside still…she's always talking about going to space and she would've never been to a place like that, not with the world like this."
"Joel, she would love that," I set the package on the couch next to me, watching him intently. I'm not sure why he is sharing this with me or why he seems so on edge. "As long as it's safe and not like completely demolished, of course. Are you going to scope it out somehow before? What's your plan?"
"Well, that's why I'm here," His chest rises and falls with a heavy sigh as he squares his shoulders. He stares intently into my eyes, as though he has to brace himself to say whatever he is about to say. "Tommy and I had planned to ride out in a few days to clear it, make sure there's no Infected and check out what's left. I'm sure you heard about what happened today?"
His ankle. There's no way Tommy can make any kind of trip until his ankle is recovered. It would be too much of a risk.
"I did," I nod slowly, eyes narrowing slightly without breaking eye contact between us. "He sprained his ankle, pretty badly from what I have heard."
"He did," Joel matches my steady nod, pausing for only a brief moment. "I know this will seem like a big ask, and we ain't known each other long…but you're someone Ellie has opened up to at least somewhat, and you know her likes and interests. It wouldn't be a smart move for me to go check this place out on my own, especially being less familiar with this area still…"
"What are you asking me?" I cut him off, which takes him off guard, but ultimately does what I intended it to do. He gets straight to the point.
"Will you go with me to check this place?"
For a moment, I feel like my mind completely flatlines. A piercing ring shoots through my ears and my heart rate begins to climb with swift, steady thumps. I reach up and scratch behind my ear, closing my eyes for the briefest moment in an attempt to ground myself.
Why would he ask me? I understand that Tommy can't leave while injured, especially to go investigate a location that could potentially contain substantial danger. But there are so many other suitable people to take this trip, people who go patrol regularly and spend time focused on similar tasks. Eugene would probably jump at the chance to explore an old museum if asked.
"Why me?"
He takes a moment to answer, carefully considering how to make his case. He has to know what a ridiculous request this is and how inclined I am to say no. Just because I'm content spending a few nights playing cards on his porch does not mean I am willing to ride outside the guarded walls and into unknown danger alone with him.
"You know Ellie better than anyone else who could manage it," He says, leaning forward to rest his arms along his knees and rub his hands together. "You'd know if the place is something she'd actually like or not and be able to help me make this the best possible experience for her."
"And you can't wait for Tommy's ankle to heal?"
"No, I can't. Her birthday is in three weeks, and it'll most likely take about a week to get there and back altogether,"
"A week?!" There is no hiding the absolute shock in my voice. This isn't some day long patrol to one of the outer county areas. A week is a serious, multiple night commitment. I haven't left Jackson for that long since the dam, and even then it was a choice I had not been thrilled to make.
"I know, it's a lot to ask. It's about three days up there, then factoring in the time we'd need to accurately clear it, check the surrounding area, and then three days of travel back. Yeah, I'd say a week,"
I'm going to make myself a drink. That's the only way I can comprehend the scenario playing out before me. I grab the first bottle within reach once I approach the small bar cabinet in the corner and pour it into one of the glasses sitting on the shelf. He says nothing, simply watching me and allowing time for this very large request to process in my mind. There's no way I can make a decision like this on the spot, especially not with him sitting here waiting to know my answer.
"Can I have tonight to think about it?" I ask, leaning my full weight on a hand behind me as I take a very, very long sip of what I now realize to be a particularly cheap bottle of bourbon. It burns all the way down into my belly, causing my eyes to water slightly and my face to screw up in discomfort.
"Of course," Joel stands up, hands running over the creases of his jeans before falling by his side. "I'd planned to leave in three days. I know it's short notice, but Tommy and I had the whole thing planned. Ellie doesn't know, just thought we were going campin' like old times."
"And if I say yes, what are you going to tell her? Because we aren't exactly the kind of friends that go on week long camping trips together," I point out. Ellie wouldn't be the only person needing an explanation of this outing, either.
"I'm not sure, to be honest. I guess I'll be thinkin' on that one while you're considering your response tonight,"
"Okay," I nod, standing up and placing my glass behind me. "Let me think tonight and I'll give you an answer tomorrow. It's just…it's a lot."
"I know," At this point we are starting to repeat the same things back and forth, talking in an uncomfortable circle. "I'll head out so you can think without me sitting here. I'll talk to you tomorrow,"
He does not wait for me to show him out, and I make no movement to follow him to the door. My head is absolutely spinning at this unexpected proposition that was just laid out before me.
An entire week. Days and night out in the wild, away from the safety of guard towers and fortress style walls and a community ready to defend us. It's not like I have not traveled before - the journey from Atlanta to Jackson was hardly a walk in the park. It's just been years since I considered going any farther than the dam, and I have not put myself into a high risk situation since then either. Shooting that bandit who charged at Ellie and Maria rattled me far beyond what I expected, but surely that wouldn't still be a concern? Before my mind can spiral any farther into panic, I see the fabric parcel still waiting on the couch. I had completely forgotten he handed it to me, but now that he has left it would be safe to open.
Sitting back down on the couch, I take the bundle in my hands and feel the rough, burlap material. It feels like a cutting taken from one of the old grain bags we have laying all around town, which we repurpose for all kinds of uses. It is not wrapped with any kind of twine or ribbon, simply folded over itself to conceal whatever contents are inside. I gently begin to unfold each layer, eventually reaching the center and the mysterious gift inside.
Inside the cloth sits a bundle of smooth, wooden sticks held together by a piece of twine. I pick them up to look closer, feeling the cool surface against my fingers and noticing that they each have a distinct, dull hook shape at the top.
Crochet hooks. Wooden crochet hooks. They are infinitely nicer than the old metal hooks I've been using, which have worn down with age and rub sore spots into my knuckles if used for too long.
In the spot where the hooks had been resting, I see a small piece of paper folded neatly beneath. I set the hooks in my lap and unfold the paper, revealing scrawled handwriting that takes me a moment to make out.
Didn't want scrap wood from the coop to be wasted. Consider it a gift from me and the chickens - Joel
The pieces all come together in my mind, moments flashing through my memory like a movie set on fast forward.
He made these. He made these hooks for me, using the leftover pieces of wood from the chicken coop I fought so hard against. That must have been why he was so interested in how I learned to crochet, mentioning it would be hard to learn from books. Ellie had even told me after the movie night that he had been reading "some random sewing book". He would have had the scraps by then, and likely used the same crochet books I read from the library to figure out how to shape the hooks just right.
My spine falls limp against the back of the couch, melting into the cushion as my head rolls up and I stare at the ceiling, dumbfounded. What was it he said when he first sat down? He had already planned to give me these tonight, but now it looks like a bribe. He had every intention of giving me these hooks purely as a gift, no expectations or reciprocation anticipated.
But now there is something I can do to help him. A very big, very scary something. I should have every reason in the world to tell him no, to suggest he take Eugene or Earl or literally anyone else and head out. However, the longer I think about it, I feel something weighing deep within me guiding me toward what I know the answer will be.
The sun has barely begun to break over the mountain peaks the next morning when I descend the front steps of my porch. Losing momentum would potentially cause me to stop and turn around, so I keep a steady pace marching across the street then right of the greenhouses. My feet move so swiftly I completely skip the second step on the way up, refusing to slow my movement until my destination has been reached.
I don't know which is pounding more intensely, my heart or my fist against his front door. After a minute, I hear the latch begin to turn and hinges creak open. Joel appears to have only just woken up, eyes still puffy from sleep and hair disheveled. He does not have a chance to greet me before I speak.
"I'll do it. I'll go with you to clear the museum."