Текст книги "The Dragon's Favorite Strays"
Автор книги: Ruby Dixon
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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 26 страниц)
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CHAPTER 25
DAKOTA
The loin wrap is pretty much an utter failure.
It’s great in theory. It’s great when Murr is standing up, hands on hips. But the moment Murr sits down, he spreads his thighs like it’s his personal duty to take up as much space as possible, and the fabric rides up, and then we’ve got a big dragon dick hanging out just as much as before. Aggie stares at him like she’s never seen a naked man in her life, her expression gleeful and fascinated. Dottie’s more circumspect about it, though I catch her frowning every now and then.
Rabbit, my smart, clever, adaptable daughter, pays it no mind. She simply sits next to Murr so she’s not in the line of sight across the fire, and tells the two ladies all about the cats they’ve been feeding. “We’re naming them after Muppets,” Rabbit says. “The ones that come around all the time and are the friendliest get names first. If we run out of muppets, we’ll go with Sesame Street.”
“Do you remember watching any of that?” Dottie asks, her expression turning fond as she watches Rabbit dice up some cooked meat with her pocket knife. “You look too young.”
“I don’t remember it at all,” Rabbit replies. “But Mom does, and there are books with Muppets. This little skinny guy is Kermit because he’s timid. And he loves this big fat orange girl cat, so we call her Miss Piggy.”
“Very nice,” Aggie says. “Which one is Rowlf?”
“This boy over here with the jowls!” she says, indicating a fluffy brown cat with stripes. “The tabby!”
They all chuckle, and I notice they’re casting fond looks at my sweet daughter. I don’t blame them—Rabbit’s impossible not to love. She’s just the happiest girl, and full of positivity. She loves life and the world around her, and it hasn’t broken her gentle, caring spirit.
Rabbit continues to name more of the cats as they wander forward for a bite to eat. The sizzling haunch is ready for us humans, and I sprinkle a bit of my precious seasoning on it to give it a bit more taste. I think longingly of the packets of seeds in my pack, the herbs I was going to grow in the window over the winter in the hopes of adding some flavor to our food. If we have to leave, I can’t exactly carry a bunch of potted plants around with me. An herb garden is very much a stationary thing.
“Whew, I think I’ve had my fill of meat for the night,” Aggie eventually says, licking her greasy fingers. Her strange wig is slightly askew but the smile on her face is huge. She beams at Murr. “And that’s not something you’ll hear from me often, young man.”
Murr frowns, trying to follow her words. When she just keeps grinning at him, he pats his kilt again. “Murr Dakotah yes.”
“Oh, I wasn’t asking to see your meat, honey.” She leans in conspiratorially. “We can all see it—”
“Aggie, can’t you talk about something other than that man’s dick?” Dottie declares, shooting me an apologetic look. “I swear she’s not normally this bad around company.”
Somehow I doubt that very much. Aggie seems like the type to be herself in each and every scenario. I’m amused by it, but at the same time, I can’t help but worry over these two women. They’re elderly and though they eat with gusto, I can’t imagine that it’s easy out in the world for the two of them. Heck, it’s not easy for me and I’m at least thirty years younger. Maybe it’s the mom in me that wants to make sure everyone has a comfortable bed. “It’s getting late. Where are you ladies staying?”
Aggie picks a bit of meat out of her teeth and glances over at Dottie.
“We slept in a van a few parking lots over,” Dottie says. “Last night, anyhow. I imagine we’ll go back there tonight and then head on out tomorrow.”
“To a fort?” Rabbit asks, leaning over and scratching Rowlf’s big jowls.
Aggie sucks on her teeth, again looking over at Dottie.
“No forts for us,” Dottie replies, her tone prim. “They’re not a good fit.”
“Didn’t wanna suck dick for a bowl of shitty corn mush,” Aggie drawls. “Gotta have better food than that.”
Rabbit makes a choked sound and shoots me a look.
I clear my throat. “Um. Aggie, maybe watch the language around my daughter?”
“Right. ’Course.” Aggie leans toward Rabbit. “I didn’t wanna give sexual favors for food. You know how forts are. I imagine everyone here does. ’Cept maybe the big guy.”
She gestures at Murr.
Murr’s brow is furrowed and he glances between the two women and starts to pat his kilt again. I grab his hand before he can do just that and decide to focus the conversation elsewhere. “We left Fort Amarillo because they kept raising prices on everything. There was no free water, no free food, nothing. They figured they’d run off enough people that it’d be an easier living for those left behind. The woman that lived across from us died because she couldn’t afford medicine, and that was enough for us.”
“We left two years ago,” Rabbit adds. “It’s been great.”
I manage a smile. Her version of how things have gone is different than mine. I haven’t let her know how stressed I am about our living situation, how every day I triple check our rations to make sure she has something to eat, how I’ve gone without so she wouldn’t. I don’t regret leaving the fort, but I wouldn’t say it’s been a breeze.
“Good for you, honey,” Aggie says to Rabbit. “You and your mom are doing great.”
“You are too,” she tells them, all smiles. She leans in, and I ache at the eagerness on her face, because how long has it been since Rabbit had a friend to talk to? A mom isn’t the same thing. “So you and Dottie left the fort to go out on your own? And that’s how you got here?”
“Kinda?” Aggie looks over at Dottie again.
Maybe it’s mom radar, but that look bothers me.
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CHAPTER 26
DAKOTA
“What fort were you in?” I ask, oh so casually. I squeeze Murr’s hand in mine without realizing I’m doing so, and when he squeezes back, it startles me.
Dottie is the one that replies, her tone calm and measured. “We came from Kansas City.”
“That’s a long, long way away. You two walked?” My bullshit meter turns on. It took me and Rabbit two years to make it here from Amarillo. You can’t travel fast anymore. The roads are overgrown and broken, so you have to walk on foot. You have to be careful to avoid dragons and their attacks, not to mention other people. You have to forage for food or scavenge every building you come across in the hopes of scraps from Before. The fact that these two elderly women made it that far on their own tells me they’re either lying or there’s something they’re not sharing.
“Not exactly,” Dottie continues. “We rode bicycles all the way down to Oklahoma City. Took a bit, but it ain’t that hard to do.”
“I used to bike to work every morning back when we still had corporate jobs,” Aggie mourns. “I had the prettiest road bike, too. Lightweight, but the best glide. Bright yellow, too. I called her Little Mama.” Her mouth purses and for a moment she looks genuinely sad. “She served me well for several years, but when we got to Oklahoma, her tires gave out. Couldn’t find a replacement so we ended up trading her for parts.”
“We sold my bike to a guide,” Dottie says. Her expression hardens. “He was supposed to guide us to Fort Dallas, but he tried to kill us and ran off with the bike just a few hours outside of the last fort. After that, we decided not to deal with forts—”
“—or men,” Aggie chimes in.
“—or men,” Dottie continues. “No more for us. We’re done.”
“If I see that bastard again, I’m gonna take the bike and shove his shitty beard through the spokes and ride away,” Aggie seethes.
That…has to be a coincidence. Lots of people ride bicycles in the After, simply because they don’t require gasoline. Lots of guys have beards too, because razors are at a premium. And yet, I have to ask. “What did that guide look like, if you don’t mind me asking?”
I feel sick to my stomach as the two women describe who could be the nomad we met earlier. Long, unkempt hair. Scraggly beard. Smarmy smile. It could be anyone, I tell myself. Could be any number of men that just don’t bother to cut their hair and grow a beard. Any number of men with a bicycle.
Any number of men wandering the area that Aggie and Dottie just happen to show up in at close to the same time.
“I think we met him,” I say, deciding to put all the cards on the table. “He came by yesterday and we ran him off, but I’m sure he’ll be back.”
Aggie pushes her glasses up her nose and sits upright. She rubs her hands together. “He’s around here? Good, because I want to kill him.”
My daughter shoots me an uncertain look. “I thought you said he left you outside of the fort. Why would he follow you all the way here?”
My smart, clever daughter. She’s suspicious, as she should be. These ladies might be friendly, but it doesn’t mean we can trust them. I’m both proud of her and terrified of what this could mean.
Motherhood is pretty much just endlessly being terrified for your child’s safety at any and all times.
“Who knows why he’s here?” Dottie says, her voice even and unbothered. She puts a comforting hand on Aggie’s knee and gives me a clear-eyed look. “I know you’ve got Rabbit to look after, Dakota. We don’t want you to feel like you’re in danger over a couple of strange old ladies. This is your home, not ours. We’ll trade with you for a couple of Sudoku books and go on our way.”
“Crosswords! Not Sudoku, crosswords!” Aggie recoils as if she’s allergic to sudoku. “I told you I hate math, Dot.”
I glance over at Rabbit and she’s watching me with big, worried eyes. I don’t know if the worry is for us or for the women…or even the cats. “Rabbit and I will talk it over,” I tell the two women. “You can stay with us tonight. We’ll decide and let you know in the morning.”
This makes Aggie pat her wig. “Oho. Not gonna talk it over with the big gold hunka hunka burning love?”
“He’s going to be fine with whatever I decide.”
“I bet he is.” Aggie pats her groin again and pitches her voice deep, mimicking Murr. “Daaakotaaaah.”
I bite back a sigh, and I suspect Dottie does, too. Rabbit just giggles.
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CHAPTER 27
DAKOTA
We settle the two ladies into my “room” in our bookstore with my extra blankets and my bedding. “I’ll sleep with Rabbit tonight,” I tell them. “We can talk more in the morning.”
The women take off their shoes and set down their gear by the bed, and Aggie takes off her wig, revealing a few silvery wisps over a bright pink scalp. She notices me watching her and points at me with a warning look. “Don’t steal my hair. I need it or I get the worst sunburn.”
“I promise I won’t,” I manage, straight-faced. What would I do with the world’s mangiest wig? Even as far as wigs go, it looks downright terrible and full of snarls, but I imagine a scalp sunburn is worse.
She sets the wig down atop her shoes with a pat and then curls up under the blankets as I move away. I notice that Dottie keeps her shotgun close at hand even as she pulls the bedding over herself.
Rabbit has a candle lit, and I can hear her talking to Kermit the cat as she gets ready for bed on the other side of the shelf “wall.” I hesitate, then go to find Murr, to check in with him. I’m not entirely surprised to find him waiting outside the bookstore’s doors, out on the broken cement curb. He’s seated on the ground, legs crossed, and in the darkness I can make out several pairs of gleaming cat eyes. Dad is spending time with his kids, I think affectionately. He’s got a good heart, this dragon.
I sit next to him on the ground and sputter as a cat immediately jumps into my lap. “Oh, hello.”
There’s a low rumble in Murr’s throat, and I realize he’s amused. I scratch at the cat’s ears as it begins to purr, and glance over at my dragon companion. There are so many things I want to talk about with him. Does he trust Dottie and Aggie? Am I just on high alert and they’re harmless? Are we putting ourselves at risk? Or is bringing them in the right thing to do? I discuss some things with Rabbit, but there’s always a limit because I don’t want to scare her. I can never truly confide in her because my mom brain is constantly filtering things to protect her.
But gosh, it’d be nice to be able to confide in someone.
“Dakotah good?” Murr asks after a moment, as if he senses my worry.
Am I? There’s not a word in his vocabulary yet that encapsulates what I am right now. “Good,” I eventually agree. “Just lots of thoughts. Murr good?”
“Murr Dakotah, Ribbit. Good.”
That should not sound as sweet as it does. He’s telling me that because he’s with us, he’s good. At least, I think that’s what he’s saying. I smile over at him, and even though it’s dark out here, I could swear he’s studying my face. Looking for more clues to our conversation, maybe?
“Sleep?” he asks after a moment.
Is he asking about our guests, or if I look tired? I’m frustrated on his behalf, and it reminds me that we need to continue his language lessons in the morning. “Dakotah sleep with Rabbit,” I tell him. “Aggie and Dottie sleep inside, too.”
He takes my hand, startling me with how warm his grip is. He presses it on the concrete between us. “Murr sleep here.” He pauses and then adds, “Drrrraaagn sleep.”
He forms the words carefully, and I’m surprised because I don’t remember teaching him that word. Has Rabbit been working with him too? “To protect us? Thank you.”
His hand remains atop mine for a moment longer, and I get flustered all over again. I’m out here practically holding hands with a dragon. It’s not a good idea—I shouldn’t be encouraging him. I don’t want him to misread signs between us.
Hell, I don’t want to misread the signs between us. He’s been asking about kisses and his questions might be completely innocent. Just because kisses can be sexual to me doesn’t mean they are to him. I need to remind myself of all of that every time I talk to him.
And now’s as good a time as any to get up. I pull the cat out of my lap and hand it to him. “Dakota sleep Rabbit now.”
He says nothing. I go inside the store, shutting the door quietly behind me and then putting my hand on the wall. In the darkness, I feel my way along to Rabbit’s “room.” Her candle is out, and I nearly trip over a stack of books. I catch myself before I fall over, but not before I cuss at it (and at myself for wandering in the dark).
“Mom?” she whispers.
“It’s me. Go back to sleep.”
“Where are you going to sleep?”
“I’m not.” I sit down against the wall, my back to it, and feel around for the bag I placed here earlier. My crossbow is nearby and I set it down next to my legs. “I’m going to play guard. You sleep, though.”
“You don’t need to guard. We have Murr. He’ll keep us safe.”
I’m sure she’s right, but my instincts tell me to be on alert anyhow. Just in case we’ve let a threat in glasses and a frizzy blonde wig into our territory. “It’s fine, honey. Go to sleep, okay? I’m not tired anyhow.”
She yawns in the darkness. “You sure? I can share my blankets. Kermit’s under them but I can make him move.”
I wince. “He’s under the blankets? He might have fleas, Rabbit.”
“He doesn’t. None of them do. I think it’s Murr’s smell. It scares the fleas away. None of them scratch, haven’t you noticed?” There’s a happy note in her sleepy voice. “I love the cats, Mom. Just as much as Murr does.”
“I know, sweetie.” Her happiness makes me ache.
She pauses, and then whispers, “I think I want to stay here. Forever.”
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CHAPTER 28
DAKOTA
I freeze at her earnest words. Rabbit wants to stay. Rabbit has never told me before that she wanted to stay anywhere. She knows as much as I do that a permanent location usually isn’t in the cards. “You want to stay because of the cats?”
“Not just the cats.” I hear her shifting under the blankets, and a soft meow floats up. She chuckles, and I can hear the joy in her voice. “Sorry, I woke Kermit up. I think we should stay because Murr needs us. He needs a family. I think Aggie and Dottie need a family too, but at least they have each other. Murr doesn’t have anyone to talk to but us. We can all stay here and make our own little fort, you know? Someplace safe for all of us to be together and look after one another.”
She really is the best kid. “Let me think on it, Rabbit. I like being here too, but we don’t know Dottie and Aggie very well. Murr, either.”
“Murr is Murr,” Rabbit says, as if that answers everything. “What’s there to know? He’s a good guy and he’s lonely. And he likes you. He watches you all the time.”
He does?
Before I can ask about that, she continues. “And the ladies remind me of my grandma. Well, not Aggie. My grandma wouldn’t have said half of what she does. But Dottie reminds me of Gran. I haven’t seen her since…well, Before.”
I reach out for her hand in the darkness, wanting to comfort her. All I find is a foot under the blankets, but I give it a squeeze anyhow. Back when I first found Rabbit, she was a kid with a pink rabbit backpack and a lost expression on her face. She was completely alone, save for the curling, much-abused nametag sticker on her chest that said, “HELLO MY NAME IS EVERLEIGH.”
That sticker told me that she was loved, as had the backpack full of toys and children’s books. That someone had been looking out for her when she appeared. And because I was alone, too, I went up to her and offered my hand. I called her Rabbit, because her shirt and backpack both had cute pink bunnies on them, and she seemed as small and sweet and helpless as a rabbit.
We’ve been together ever since, about eight years.
It makes sense that my sweet daughter wants to take care of others. That she wants them to have people to count on. “Let me think about it, honey.”
“Of course, Mom. Love you.”
Somewhere under the blankets, Kermit lets out a muffled meow, as if agreeing.
I smile into the dark and fall silent. Rabbit goes to sleep and all is quiet. I can’t sleep, of course. I’m too aware of the strangers sleeping under our roof, and how we don’t know that much about them. Aggie and Dottie could be friends, but they might also be looking out for themselves. I wouldn’t blame them if they were, but I have to think of Rabbit first. The hours creep by in the darkness, but I’m not tired. My brain won’t calm down. Half of it is trying to replay Dottie and Aggie’s conversations, the looks they shared with each other, the dribbles of information about the bike-stealing bully they’d hired to transport them.
The other half of my brain is making plans on what to do if we have to leave. What to take, what to leave behind, how to hide our tracks, what this means for the upcoming winter. I touch my crossbow every now and then, reassuring myself that it’s close by.
I’m surprised when the door to outside quietly opens and I hear footsteps. I pull my crossbow into my lap, and stare at the distant windows. The glimpses of sky are purpling, showing that it’s near dawn.
A shadow moves near me, and I feel a wall of heat right before Murr’s big body sits down next to me. I know it’s him because one of his arm horn-things scratches at my jeans as he seats himself, and Kermit immediately meows a greeting from the bed.
Rabbit keeps on sleeping, though. I can hear her light snoring even from here.
Was Murr feeling lonely, then? Is that why he’s sitting with me in the dark? I reach out and his hand brushes mine. He clasps it and settles our joined hands between us.
Lonely, then. I understand that very well.
We continue to sit in the shadows as the sun begins to rise, and it’s nice. My palm is sweating pressed against his, but he doesn’t seem to mind. I glance over and I can make out his face, just a bit. He grins, showing a flash of teeth, and then gestures at the window. “Word?”
And then he makes a gesture that looks like the sun rising from behind the horizon. Or a flower blooming. Or an atom bomb exploding. But I suspect it’s the sun. “Dawn. Sunrise.”
“Dawh,” he whispers. “So rize.”
“Dawn,” I whisper back. I’ll get into the differences between nouns and verbs much, much later in his language lessons. “Murr speaks good.”
His expression shows genuine pleasure and delight at my compliment, and he studies my face, as if looking for something. Then, he says, “Murr no kith.”
I pull back in surprise. Where did that come from?
My astonishment must be evident. He continues whispering, leaning in. “Dakotah kith Murr.” Then he shakes his head, the movement exaggerated. “Dakotah good. Murr good. No kith.”
Oh.
I’d forgotten all about my promise to kiss him. He hasn’t forgotten, obviously…but now he’s telling me it isn’t necessary. That he understands. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but I don’t think I am. I’m getting to know him despite the limitations in language. “You’re very sweet, Murr. Thank you.”
And I lean in and give him a quick peck on the cheek.
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