July 20th, 2018
"Look what I found!"
Veronica turned her head from where she was tacking up colorful poster board to her bulletin board to see Archie lugging something large through the doorway of her room.
"What in the name of god is that?" Veronica asked, taking a full, deep look at the rattan piece, with a gaudy and awful neon blue covering that looked to be half plastic, half fabric. And not the good sort of fabric.
"It's what you said you wanted!" Archie said, grinning widely, looking very pleased with himself, "It's a...a.."
"Chaise lounge?" Veronica said, and couldn't help but allow a smile.
"Yeah, that! Like you described was in your room in New York."
Veronica stalked around the piece he'd pulled in.
"Arch, I'm pretty sure this is an outdoor sofa," She said but found herself laughing nonetheless.
"Well, guess that explains why it was outside," Archie frowned, rubbing his chin, "But can't it be both?"
She supposed it did resemble what she'd wanted, granted, she had been thinking more 'wood' and 'velvet' and less 'plastic' and 'polyester', but she sincerely doubted she'd be so lucky to find something like a chaise lounge anywhere in Cody, Wyoming.
"It's fantastic," She decided, having given up the chase for 'perfect' here long ago. She was warmed by Archie's efforts, and that alone was enough to want to accept anything he brought her. And, it would fit perfectly along the edge of her room, right under the large schoolroom windows. The color of it, entirely, would have to be changed; maybe they could spray-paint the base, and god, find fabric to staple to the cushions.
"How many Cannibals did you have to fight off for this?" She asked, half joking, but Archie sighed.
"Three. Though, not for this specifically. I think they were more interested in Dilton's brains. He was pretty occupied- he found some gasoline or chemicals in that garage that had his attention.
Veronica swallowed, "Think it was the family from whatever house it was?"
"Yes, no? Why would you ask that?" Archie said, his mood turning sour as he slumped on the sofa lounge, "Now you've made me feel shitty for stealing some family's shit."
"Sorry," Veronica sighed, shaking her head. She felt like Dillon with her morbid fascination with all this lately. If she were seeing a therapist, he would say that this was how she was dealing with the uncertainty of life of late; that she was looking at the Cannibals they came across and saying things like 'that was probably a Sarah when she was alive'. She knew it bothered Archie, but she couldn't stop doing it.
"It probably wasn't," Veronica said, pursing her lips, "Probably just a few that were moving through town."
Archie bit his knuckles in thought, nodding lightly to himself as he looked around the space they sat in.
"You moved stuff around while I was gone."
Veronica preened, "How do you think it looks so far?"
"Very homey," Archie said, "And I of course mean that in the highest of compliments."
They were sitting in Veronica's room, though the size of it made it feel more like an apartment. Hell, Veronica knew apartments in New York City that were far smaller than this, and went for thousands of dollars per month! She was in room 303.
There was plenty enough room for everyone, so the smartest move had been that everyone should be allowed to pick a room. It gave everyone some much-needed privacy. At first, Archie was just going to move into Veronica's room with her, but she urged him to pick his own. His expression had been a mixture of hurt and anger.
"What, so you can break up with me?" He asked.
She nearly said, 'no, that's what you do', but managed to keep her biting comments to herself.
Instead, she just forced a casual laugh, "No! So you can, you know, have a place to just chill. Get some weights in there or something. Or a guitar." She hoped they wouldn't break up, but it made sense to her that he should have his own room, like how her father used to have his office and her mother had the whole rest of the house.
"Oh," Archie blinked, "Yeah, that makes sense."
Crisis averted.
At first, their only goal had been to find enough mattresses for everyone to have one, and to raid some houses for food and other necessities, but Hermione had started taking house pieces as well, like ottomans or bed frames. This caused a big fight between her and Xander.
"You're going to risk your life to drag an armchair away?" He sputtered, "Is it worth it?"
"I will not live like I'm just passing through! If we're staying here, sue me for wanting to live semi-normally!" Hermione had argued back, and since she was technically in charge, Xander didn't say anything. Even if he had wanted to.
He seemed a bit hypocritical since he and his wife were sure as hell enjoying the raids that were brought back.
The adults got first pick, in the order of Hermione, Smithers, Xander, and then Simone. After that, the kids pulled lottery numbers each time. They were bringing back anything from large side tables to lamps or books. It also made people want to go out and raid houses, which at first had been the bane of everyone's job rotations since now everyone felt like they were building and collecting towards something.
It wasn't as great as just popping over to a furniture store, or rather sending Smithers there, but this was almost more fun. It was the sense that you never knew what would be brought back and the thrill of the lottery of hoping that even if you weren't called first, someone else among you wouldn't want that cane bookshelf that would fit perfectly in your room.
It was the little things like this that so quickly, Veronica was starting to really, really rely on. And enjoy. And, even arguably, live for.
She brushed her fingers over the numbers to her room as she exited, deciding to see what dinner would be tonight and if she could get in on the choice tonight.
Her classroom had been a third-grade classroom, and she knew this. Not just because of the paperwork and items she didn't have the heart to throw out, locked in a tall cabinet in the back, but because of the door numbers.
At their first look around the space, trying to choose rooms, Archie had given a long laugh.
"Wow, these people must be dumb," He said in a sing-songy voice, drawing out the word 'dumb', "There's like one floor and clearly they don't know how to count. The 200s were back there and now we're at 400?" He snickered.
"Actually," Elio said, rubbing his chin, "I beg to differ. I think they're quite intelligent. I think this school is set up by grade in pods. Four classrooms per pod. The first number denotes the grade. Thus, this would be the 4th-grade wing. Makes it easy. If you're in second grade, you know your classroom is one of four."
Archie frowned, looking at the doors for a second, "Huh. Oh. Yeah, that probably makes sense."
Apart from that, of course, there were other spaces; a small stage where kids had put on plays, a gymnasium, a few back offices, an art room, a music room, and a 'specials' classrooms like foreign languages or cooking. But, it had been decided that those were common areas and it was most fair for everyone to get a classroom. They were all roughly the same size. The differences were how the lights came through, if it had a sink or a full bathroom attached, or if it had storage closets. Enough to make it feel special for each space.
Hermione and Smithers were each in a Kindergarten room, denoted by just two digits instead of three. Veronica had to guess that her mother chose this because it was the closest to the front doors, where she could play guard, and the medicine cabinets which she watched like a hawk. She'd also taken the principal's office for her work at sorting or organizing or generally keeping them all alive. Veronica didn't really want an office, so she wasn't upset.
When Veronica had gotten to pick her room, everyone was somehow shocked she did not pick a Kindergarten space. Was it really that surprising, she wanted to ask? Didn't everyone basically know her relationship with her parents was fucked? If you thought losing your dad and her losing her husband would band them together, well, you were pretty much dead wrong.
So she'd picked a third-grade classroom that had an en-suite bathroom and big windows facing a courtyard that just let light breathe and dance beautifully into her space. The plumbing was working (for now) and the courtyard windows made her feel safer than facing the fences. She knew that they'd fortified the fences and that someone was always on the watch, but it still made her feel uncomfortable to know the Cannibals were just out there, waiting, like sharks.
The St. Clairs had taken two rooms between them in the 2nd-grade wing. Nick choosing to stay near his parents was a hard one to decide whether or not anyone was surprised. At least, Veronica was still going back and forth on it.
Josie had picked a 5th-grade classroom that was closest to the music space, with a few instruments left behind. Although the musical space was for everyone, besides Archie, no one else had much desire to use it anyway, so it was more or less Josie's, sans the guitar she'd let Archie take.
The rest of the boys had picked three out of the four 4th-grade classrooms. She wasn't sure it was so much a choice to stick together like a pack of wolves as much as it was one chose and the rest just shrugged and followed. It was also close to the gym, and something about hearing the squeaking of shoes and the dribbling of a basketball made Veronica very happy.
"You up for a game?" Elio asked, leaving his bedroom to fist-bump Archie.
"Hell yeah, man," Archie said, "Pick a good one, V," Archie said with an easy-going grin, "I'm not going to let you win this time."
"Let me?" Elio raised his eyebrows, "I'll try to go easy on you," He said with a teasing tone.
Veronica paused in place to watch them race down the halls to the gym, and realized that she was feeling happy. Things were falling into place, in a sense, and at least moments like these existed to remind her that good things could still occur in hellish situations.
She found her mother and Smithers in the middle school kitchens, Smithers sitting on a stool and patting sweat off his forehead and her mother meticulously organizing the food Archie had brought back in a complicated and (in Veronica's opinion) convoluted system.
As she approached, she caught her mother turning around and offering a strip of jerky to Smithers. This action surprised Veronica.
Her mother was militant about eating outside at meal times or having snacks. Food was the singular thing that no one got to keep. The food was carefully rationed and you weren't allowed to even be caught with a snack-size bag of chips in your room, having stuffed it in your pocket at a gas station for later. For her mother to give anyone, even Smithers, food outside of meal times was very unlike her. And hypocritical.
And Veronica would be pissed if it didn't seem like Smithers needed it. He was looking more sallow of late, leaner. He'd never been skinny, but she wouldn't have called him fat either, but he was starting to look his actual age.
So, Veronica just swallowed thickly, waiting until Smithers had eaten the jerky, so she wouldn't have to call her mother out.
"Anything good?" She asked, jumping onto the metal countertop.
"Your favorite, Mija," Hermione said with a wry grin, setting many cans of beans on the counter. Veronica wriggled her nose. Her least favorite canned food, even more hated than Spam.
Her mother laughed at her expression, "No, we'll have chili tonight, I think."
"It's too hot for chili," Veronica groaned.
"Yes, but it's something we can make in a big batch and store for a while," Hermione said, and that said it was final. Then, she paused, "Archie brought back some other interesting things though."
"Oh?" Veronica said, "You saw my 'chaise lounge' then?"
"Your what?" Her mother frowned, "No, look." She pointed to a box.
Veronica felt her mouth water, "Cake mix." She read one of the many boxes, "I haven't had cake in ages."
"He also brought back a record player. I was thinking, maybe, I whip up one of these cake boxes and we put some music on tonight with dinner. Have...a party."
Veronica looked up, eyes narrowed, "What's the occasion?" Translated; what bomb are you about to drop on us that needs us happy and laughing?
"No occasion." Hermione frowned.
"Life!" Smithers said joyfully from where he sat on his chair, "I suggested it. I think we could have some fun. We need it, you know," He said, wiggling a finger.
"Do you think you can set it up?" Hermione asked.
Veronica let a pleased smile. One of her best skills was party planning. She'd planned Bella Thorne's 16th birthday bash back in New York, and that was one of many celeb events she could put on a theoretical resume.
"Of course, I can, mother," Veronica said, scoffing.
As if she even had to ask.
XXX
"Wow, this really is great," Josie said as they put their plates in the bin to be washed, she marveled at the party scene in front of her.
"Thank you," Veronica preened, "I mean, there wasn't a lot to make do with, so I did my best."
"Oh, you're too humble, girlie! I'm amazed you could do it at all."
Veronica gave a not-so-humble smile, letting the praise soak in.
She was hoping for a compliment from everyone here. She collected people's amazement and surprise like little colored rocks. So far, she was just missing a compliment from Nick and Dilton.
If she didn't, it would be fine, she knew this logically. But she wanted the set. She wanted recognition for how impressive it was she pulled this off.
A few streamers, some fabric in bins, and lots of fairy lights. Thank god teachers loved those things.
She went for a fairy-garden theme, along with any non-dead plants or plastic plants she found downstairs, and brought them up. She was thinking they should keep the plants up here. Give some life to the school.
When everyone had walked in for dinner, they had walked into a garden wonderland, the record player already blasting some Stevie Nicks. She'd spent a lot of the time getting it to work, as well as organizing the records from 'play this right now' to 'well, someone has to like this, but bless their souls'.
Hermione had even opened some bottles of Champagne Brute. Of course, not what Veronica was used to. It tasted a little chemical to her, and she was sure Elio was thinking the same. It was good enough for everyone else, especially because Dilton practically vibrated to see it.
"Awe, yes! I've only had that once. It's my favorite," He said with a happy grin, "My older cousin had me try some last summer. What a memory," He sighed.
With a sheet cake about to be brought out, music that wasn't entirely terrible, and champagne in red plastic cups, it was starting to feel like a real party. A bizarre party in a middle school with people that, previous to this, she would have raised an eyebrow at the guest list, but now she couldn't be happier to be with.
As Archie did a series of terrible dance moves, including the sprinkler, over to her, he laughed at her expression.
"Are you drunk?" He asked.
"What? No! Hardly," Veronica tilted her glass, "This is my first. Why?"
"You just seem slap-happy," He said, "Figured it was some alcoholic help." And maybe he didn't say it, but it was left there, hanging. That this felt so different from her mood before.
"I dunno, I guess, I'm just…" She shrugged, twirling in a circle, her eyes catching everyone dancing, even Nick and his parents. The only one missing was Smithers, but he said he wanted to change and he'd be arriving in a bit. He'd left after eating. It was his party, after all. After a bit of nudging, Hermione had let on that it was Smither's birthday tomorrow. Why they didn't wait, Veronica was unsure, but it was sure as heck a reason to celebrate.
"I think we're going to be okay!" She finally said, utterly, simply happy.
"What do you mean?"
"You know, that this is a way we can live. That we don't have to hide or cry or live in fear forever. That we can move on and figure something else out. I just like being here." She said after a moment, throwing her arms out, "Don't you?"
Archie considered it, as though for the first time, before nodding, "Yeah, I do too. Who would think we'd be having a party at the end of time?"
"Not me," Joaquin said, walking by, moving his shoulders and head a bit, "I didn't think I'd survive it."
And wasn't that the honest truth?
Her mother brought out the sheet cake to wide, celebrated applause.
"We should wait for Smithers. It is his birthday." Veronica said, and at her mother's narrowed glare, "Oops!" But, she wasn't really sorry. He deserved to be celebrated!
"God, he must be ancient. What is he, like 90?" Nick's eyes widened, as though he didn't comprehend how birthdays were and that people got older. Or maybe he'd only thought about Smithers birthday right now and how old he must be.
"Seventy-five, actually," Hermione said, "But chasing after the Lodge family does probably age one a bit."
Still, seventy-five was not only impressive but for sure a reason to celebrate.
"He should have the first piece," Veronica repeated, wanting to be fair.
Hermione glanced up into the hallway to his room, "Simone, will you cut and serve? Save a corner piece for Smithers. He'll enjoy that. I'll see where he is."
Simone took the knife and batted away the eager teens.
"I will hand one to you when I hand one to you," She said, and then waved it at her husband, who was trying to sneak a piece too, "God, Xander, what are you, twelve?"
Veronica's attention slid to where her mother had disappeared to. After a few moments, Hermione returned, looking no different than before. Or, at least to the average person. But Veronica had many years of deciphering the very slight changes in expression of her mother. She knew worry and anguish when she saw it.
"Smithers wants me to take his piece to him. He'll be out shortly," Hermione said, grabbing a corner piece and waving everyone away to eat theirs. Since everyone had frosted cake with sprinkles in front of them, no one really argued.
But Veronica knew something was not right.
She told Archie she forgot something in her room, and it would just take a second to grab it, and slid away.
Smither's door was slightly ajar, and dark except for a few candles that she could see flickering through the windowpane.
She opened the door to see her mother sitting next to his bed, head in her hand, sobbing. The piece of cake sat beside her.
"Mom."
Hermione whipped her head around.
"Get out! Get out!" She hissed, wiping her eyes, standing and stalking toward the door. Veronica swallowed down her fear at her mother's sharp tone and scurried over to Smither's bed. She had seen death before; in the faces of Cannibals, of course, but even before that. Her grandmother's open casket funeral when she was ten popped into her mind.
She saw the paleness of his face, the stiffness already setting in, the stillness to his chest.
"He's dead." She spun, "I've seen it already. Why were you hiding this?" She asked, feeling tears bubble up, "How long?"
Logically, she knew it couldn't have happened more than an hour ago, since an hour ago he was alive at the end of dinner. Sitting on his chair was what he had intended to change into; a nice pair of pants and a velvet suit jacket.
"I wanted to wait till tomorrow to tell everyone. Let everyone enjoy the party. He wanted it for everyone so badly." Hermione sighed, collapsing into her chair, looking old herself at this moment.
"Did he know then?" Veronica felt her own legs buckle into one of his remaining open chairs. She reached for his freezing hand, as though he could feel her warmth wherever he was now. He was the grandfather that she'd never had; always there for her with warm, loving words, always prepared to help with a scraped knee, and keeping a good deal of secrets from her parents when she was a precocious child. She'd grown up with him always around, as long as she could remember. If she recalled correctly, he'd tended to Hiram while growing up, meaning that he'd known Hermione for a long time too.
"He might have guessed, perhaps," Hermione rubbed her face, "But he did not tell me. I just knew he was growing weaker. I tried to help; medicine, extra food, a memory foam mattress."
"How?" Veronica decided to ask next.
"Age," Hermione gave a wry grin, "Nothing more. God knows what sort of traumas this has placed on our own bodies," She said, "When I came in he was in his bed. I like to hope he decided to take a quick nap and drifted away. Not a heart attack, no pain, no fear. Just an eternal slumber."
The two Lodge women sat in silence for a few moments, each focusing very hard on the sound of each other's breaths in the dark room.
"We'll bury him tomorrow?" Veronica asked.
"Of course. Deep in the ground." She knew that this would make sure the Cannibals were not going to scavenge for his body, "We'll hold a funeral for anyone that wants to be there." Smithers had been here for the Lodge's, but he'd been unflappably kind to every other person here. Veronica would imagine that many would like to attend his funeral, even though from his tone it seemed her mother was unsure of this, "It will help with our closure."
There was another berth of silence.
"It wasn't Cannibals, was it?" Veronica asked hesitantly, hating she even had to worry about it.
"No. No, there was no fever. And no bites." She gave a sad, knowing smile, "I asked. He would not have lied to me."
"Good." Veronica let her shoulders slump. One less thing they had to worry about.
"I should get back…" Veronica started to stand, knowing that Archie (as soon as he had his fill of cake) would worry about what happened to her, "Will he be okay the night in here?"
"He's dead. I doubt he has much of an opinion on anything," Hermione said with a dark humor Veronica recognized as her own, "If we lock the door, and first thing at dawn take him out, it will be okay." She added, knowing what Veronica was really asking.
As the women began towards the door, there was a shuffling from the bed.
Veronica turned around, confused.
"Did you possibly mistake his death?" She asked, but that was stupid. Veronica had seen it herself. Smithers had been dead-dead.
"No…?" At first, Hermione's voice was heavy with confusion, then she heard a sharp intake of breath, "Veronica, go to the hall. Now!" She yelled, pushing Veronica behind her.
"What? Why?" Veronica asked, struggling against her mother's grip to try to get to Smithers.
"Because I told you to!" Hermione said, her face wildly swinging to the open door to the bed, "Do what I say, Veronica or I swear to god-,"
Veronica caught just a glimpse of Smither's face as he lifted his body from the bed, and her first thought was that it looked wrong. The uncanny valley of human recognition. Then she saw his face, blank and devoid and empty.
That was enough to drop her fight, and a moment her mother took to shove her outside the door and slam it in her face.
As soon as Veronica regained her wits, she pounded on the door. Her yelling must have caught the attention of the party, because everyone was pouring down the hall, the music still echoing faintly in the background.
"What's going on?"
"Smithers was dead, but now he's not, and-," Veronica pounded and jiggled the door handle, "Mom!" She screamed. She could not lose her mother, not now, not here.
"Hermione!" Xander pounded on the door, shoving Veronica aside, "Oh, god, something's going on in there." They could all hear the sound of furniture being pushed aside and grunts and groans.
"Step aside!" Archie said, "I'm gonna kick the door down!" He announced. Veronica reached for his arm to stop him, knowing he'd only ever seen it happen in movies (because he always said wistfully 'man, I wanna do that one day') but was moving in slow motion. She was too late.
The door thundered open, and the light from the hallway streamed in.
"Mom?" Veronica asked.
Smithers was on the ground. Hermione stood.
She turned, dark, noxious blood splattered across her face. Smither's skull cracked open, blood splurting like a geyser onto the floor.
"He was a Cannibal," Hermione said simply, pointing her answer to Veronica.
"Good god!" Xander grasped her arm, "Did he bite you at all? Hurt you?"
Hermione shook her head, "No, no. It's all his." She assured.
"But...but...you said he told you he wasn't bit. Did he lie?" Veronica demanded.
"Go get cleaned up," Simone suggested quietly, taking her arm, "Xander?"
"I'll check." He turned around to see the kids all standing. Veronica reached for Archie's arm, his hand quivering so hard she could barely grasp it.
He was terrified, and so was she.
"Go to your rooms." He instructed quietly but powerfully. When no one moved, he lurched forward, "Now!"
They scattered. Not to their individual rooms, but somehow ended up in Josie's room, which had the most cushiony things and places to sit.
Someone might start to offer an idea, but no one could finish a sentence. Even so, their teeth chattered so much when they started to speak it came out nearly unintelligible anyway.
After what seemed like hours, Xander appeared with Simone and Hermione. Her mother was now cleaned up and in non-bloody clothes.
"Good, good, you're all here," He said, seemingly a bit off-put. His face was pale and his hands were shoved in his pocket, to keep from shivering.
"What…?" Archie just uttered a single word, but it was enough.
"He was not bit." Xander said curtly, "And he came back anyway."
"Are we sure? Sure, sure?" Joaquin demanded, "Because this really fucking sucks if what you're saying is true."
"Saying what?" Archie frowned.
"That it doesn't matter if you're bit or not. If you die, you come back as one anyway. Put your friends and family in danger." Joaquin turned toward him, eyes lit with fury and anger, "And there's nothing I think we could do about it."
"That seems to be the logical conclusion. We won't know until…" he sighed, looking around, "Until anyone else dies, not that we're going to test the theory. But this is the conclusion we should now be under."
"Shit," Dilton said, then frowned, "Hey, at least Smithers died doing something useful. Telling us this. Giving us knowledge."
Any other time, Veronica would be the first to smack Dilton for such things, but she was rather inclined to agree. She liked to think that Smithers would enjoy knowing he'd been helpful, even after death.
"Let's try to get some sleep," Hermione said, "And we'll bury him tomorrow. Same as planned."
As everyone shuffled to their rooms, the lightness and happiness Veronica had felt slowly snuffed out.
She felt the darkness, the futility of life, creep back into her heart, and she feared this time she'd never shake that sense of nothingness.