what the coming days might bring his way.
Scott said, “How’d you end up tied to the bed?”
“We got along pretty good the first couple of days. He took me off with him scavenging for stuff. Told me which streets to avoid and showed me a couple of places I could hide out if somebody was after me. But one night we got to drinking and teasing each other. You know—busting balls, as Tony Soprano used to say. One thing led to another and the next thing I know the fucker’s kicking the shit out of me. Ties me face down on the bed and… ” Davey paused. He gulped a mouthful of beer and looked out at the open window, and this time Scot figured he was reliving some past atrocity. He looked back at Scott and Lila, and said, “Then he grabbed some of that plastic rope and beat the ever-livin’ shit out of me.”
“Well,” Lila said. “You’re all right, now.”
“Thanks to you guys.”
“So, how are you, Scott?” said Lila. “Full?”
“Man, I feel great. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
“How long since you ate something?” Davey asked him.
“Scott woke up in a rehabilitation center this afternoon. Somebody shot him in the head the day this all started, and he’s been in a coma ever since.”
“No shit? But… how could that be? Who was even around to tend to him?”
Scott sighed as he brushed a hand through his straight brown hair, stopping long enough to finger the indented patch where nothing would ever grow again. “I’ve been wondering about that myself.”
“What happened to you?”
“Well, it’s like this…”
Davey took another drink of beer and Lila uncrossed her legs and stretched them out before her. All eyes were on Scott as he began his tale behind the wheel of a car on a blazing hot afternoon, and ended it at the side door of the house they were all sitting in.
“So you see, I don’t know how I stayed alive, how I could have stayed alive. It doesn’t make any sense. None of it does.”
Lila, who had drawn her knees up in front of her, and was now hugging them to her bosom, said, “I think we should celebrate. Because you are alive, somehow you did survive, and maybe, just maybe that means somewhere behind all this miserable shit we’ve all been dragged through, fate is involved. After all, you made it through something no one could have. By all accounts you should be dead, but you aren’t. And you, Davey. You’re the first child I’ve seen since this whole thing started. Maybe there’re more scattered throughout the world, hiding and waiting for everything to get better. Maybe things will get better.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Davey said. And he did. He lifted his bottle in toast and brought it to his lips, tipped it up and guzzled down the mouthful of warm beer that remained. He stood up and walked to the window, tossed the empty bottle into the yard and turned. Lila, who had stood and was making her way across the room, knelt by a pile of liquor bottles and began rummaging through them. Moments later, having fished out a fifth of Jack Daniels, she stood up.
“Let’s have a drink together. To a new beginning.”
Scott stood up, and he and Davey joined Lila in the center of the room, Davey smiling like he couldn’t believe somebody was actually going to hand him a bottle of whiskey. Lila uncapped the bottle, smiled and said, “To a new beginning.” She put the bottle to her lips, tipped it up and drank from it; pulled the bottle away and passed it over to Scott, who echoed her toast and took a drink of his own. Then it was Davey’s turn. He took the bottle from Scott, wincing as he sniffed the narrow opening passing beneath his nose. He looked from Lila to Scott, then back at Lila, and for the first time since Scott had met him, the hollow look was gone from his deep-set blue eyes.
“To a new beginning,” he said. He put the bottle to his lips, tipped it up and took a drink and quickly held it out to Scott, hacking and coughing and beating his
Scott said, “How’d you end up tied to the bed?”
“We got along pretty good the first couple of days. He took me off with him scavenging for stuff. Told me which streets to avoid and showed me a couple of places I could hide out if somebody was after me. But one night we got to drinking and teasing each other. You know—busting balls, as Tony Soprano used to say. One thing led to another and the next thing I know the fucker’s kicking the shit out of me. Ties me face down on the bed and… ” Davey paused. He gulped a mouthful of beer and looked out at the open window, and this time Scot figured he was reliving some past atrocity. He looked back at Scott and Lila, and said, “Then he grabbed some of that plastic rope and beat the ever-livin’ shit out of me.”
“Well,” Lila said. “You’re all right, now.”
“Thanks to you guys.”
“So, how are you, Scott?” said Lila. “Full?”
“Man, I feel great. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
“How long since you ate something?” Davey asked him.
“Scott woke up in a rehabilitation center this afternoon. Somebody shot him in the head the day this all started, and he’s been in a coma ever since.”
“No shit? But… how could that be? Who was even around to tend to him?”
Scott sighed as he brushed a hand through his straight brown hair, stopping long enough to finger the indented patch where nothing would ever grow again. “I’ve been wondering about that myself.”
“What happened to you?”
“Well, it’s like this…”
Davey took another drink of beer and Lila uncrossed her legs and stretched them out before her. All eyes were on Scott as he began his tale behind the wheel of a car on a blazing hot afternoon, and ended it at the side door of the house they were all sitting in.
“So you see, I don’t know how I stayed alive, how I could have stayed alive. It doesn’t make any sense. None of it does.”
Lila, who had drawn her knees up in front of her, and was now hugging them to her bosom, said, “I think we should celebrate. Because you are alive, somehow you did survive, and maybe, just maybe that means somewhere behind all this miserable shit we’ve all been dragged through, fate is involved. After all, you made it through something no one could have. By all accounts you should be dead, but you aren’t. And you, Davey. You’re the first child I’ve seen since this whole thing started. Maybe there’re more scattered throughout the world, hiding and waiting for everything to get better. Maybe things will get better.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Davey said. And he did. He lifted his bottle in toast and brought it to his lips, tipped it up and guzzled down the mouthful of warm beer that remained. He stood up and walked to the window, tossed the empty bottle into the yard and turned. Lila, who had stood and was making her way across the room, knelt by a pile of liquor bottles and began rummaging through them. Moments later, having fished out a fifth of Jack Daniels, she stood up.
“Let’s have a drink together. To a new beginning.”
Scott stood up, and he and Davey joined Lila in the center of the room, Davey smiling like he couldn’t believe somebody was actually going to hand him a bottle of whiskey. Lila uncapped the bottle, smiled and said, “To a new beginning.” She put the bottle to her lips, tipped it up and drank from it; pulled the bottle away and passed it over to Scott, who echoed her toast and took a drink of his own. Then it was Davey’s turn. He took the bottle from Scott, wincing as he sniffed the narrow opening passing beneath his nose. He looked from Lila to Scott, then back at Lila, and for the first time since Scott had met him, the hollow look was gone from his deep-set blue eyes.
“To a new beginning,” he said. He put the bottle to his lips, tipped it up and took a drink and quickly held it out to Scott, hacking and coughing and beating his
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