Louis Collins: A Post-American Odyssey

They sat at the table with their packs on the floor beside them. Rita worked at the stove without looking up. Cherish carried dinner from the counter, both hands tight around each dish. She set down beans, cornbread, fried potatoes, beef stew, and sliced vegetables. Before she stepped back, she adjusted one bowl that had not been out of place. Then she wiped her palms on her apron and took her place beside Rita.

Louis looked down at his plate before anyone caught him watching her again. Angelique had already seen it. She took his hand under the table. He squeezed her fingers and did not meet her eyes.

Nicholas lowered his head. Rita did the same. Cherish put the pitcher down and folded her hands.

“Lord,” Nicholas said in a low voice, “thank You for the food on this table, the roof over this house, and the road that brought what needed bringing before dark. Give us strength to endure what must be endured and wisdom to know what must be hidden. We ask Your protection over those who are under this roof tonight and those who wait for them beyond it. In Your name. Amen.”

“Amen,” Rita said.

“Amen,” Cherish whispered.

The others did not speak. Nicholas lifted his head and began passing plates without comment. Louis had not realized how empty he was until the first bite of stew. It was hot and heavy, and he ate faster than he meant to. Nicholas watched all of them for a while before he spoke.

“Anyone sick?”

“No,” Louis said.

“Good.” Nicholas took a bite of cornbread. “If you are, say so. We have no room for sickness here.”

Gladice swallowed a spoonful of beans. “We are all healthy.”

“Good.” Nicholas nodded. “I expect you to start to work tomorrow. There is always work.”

“Alright,” Louis said.

“Where do you all come from?” Rita asked. She kept her eyes on her plate.

Louis stopped with his spoon in his hand.

“Complicated,” Gladice said.

Rita glanced at her, then back to her food. “Most things are.”

Nicholas finished half his stew before looking up again. He looked at Savannah. “You are from here?”

“Yes,” Savannah said. “Atlanta.”

Nicholas nodded. “That’s a hard place for a negro woman to live.”

Savannah gave a single shrug. “It’s a hard place for anyone to live.”

“Some harder than others. Some make it hard for everybody else.” Nicholas took a drink of water.

Savannah took a bite without looking at him. “That’s true.”

Louis set his spoon down. “Thank you for the food. It’s delicious.”

Rita looked at him for the first time. “You are welcome.”

He glanced at Cherish, then back to his plate. Cherish kept cutting at a piece of beef on her plate.

“Did you help with the stew?” he asked her.

She raised her eyes for half a second. “Yes.”

“It’s very good.”

Her face flushed, and she lowered her gaze. Rita watched her daughter for a moment, then spoke.

“Cherish, take the plates to the sink after.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“I will help,” Louis said. “It is the least I can do.”

Angelique and Donya glanced at him. Gladice hid a smile by taking another bite. Willa kept eating. Savannah looked at Cherish, then at Nicholas.

“She can carry plates,” Nicholas said. “She has hands.”

“I want to help.” Louis met his eyes. “We are guests.”

Nicholas did not answer right away.

“No, it’s okay. I can do it.” Cherish spoke quickly, already looking at Nicholas.

“Let him help if he wants to,” Rita said.

Nicholas looked at his wife, then at Louis.

“You are eager to help my daughter.”

“I am trying to be useful,” Louis said. “I know you are helping us.”

“Useful is good. Useful keeps people alive.” Nicholas looked at Savannah again. “My son was useful too.”

Savannah set down her spoon. She looked directly at Nicholas.

“What happened to him?”

“Jacksonville in 2013. Collective purge. A negro soldier shot him. He was seventeen.”

Savannah did not blink. “Sorry for your loss.”

Gladice’s eyes narrowed a little. Nicholas grunted once. Louis waited for him to say more. Cherish had stopped eating. Her hands were flat on the table. She looked down.

“Nicholas. Not at supper.” Rita spoke quietly. “The dead do not need to be dragged out at the table.”

He stared at his plate for a long moment, then nodded. “You’re right.” He picked up his spoon. “So where are you all going?”

“Somewhere safer,” Louis said.

“Virginia?”

“If we can make it.”

“You can forget it.” Nicholas scooped stew into his mouth. “Every month there is someone getting blown up by the minefields. The border is death.”

“So we hear,” Louis said.

“But you’re still trying to get there.”

“Yes.” Louis met his eyes. “Some things are worth the risk.”

“I suppose so.” Nicholas chewed. “What do you all do for a living?”

“Equipment sales,” Louis said.

Nicholas almost smiled. “What kind of equipment?”

“Televisions,” Louis said. “Audio systems. For homes and offices.”

Gladice swallowed a laugh. Angelique kicked her under the table.

“Good business,” Nicholas said. “There is always a market for distraction.”

Louis nodded.

“Tomorrow’s work.” Nicholas chewed and swallowed. “Which one of you has worked animals?”

“I know how to handle horses,” Angelique said.

“Me too,” Gladice said.

“Good. Rita will show you the stalls.” Nicholas glanced at them both. “I hope you can tell the difference between a horse and a mule.”

“Of course we can,” Angelique said.

Nicholas gave a dry laugh. He looked at Willa. “You look like you know tools.”

“I do,” Willa said.

“Then you can help in the workshop. There is a tractor that has been making noises it shouldn’t.”

“I’m not a mechanic,” Willa said.

“Then you can hold a light and tell me if you see something I don’t.”

Willa nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Donya set her spoon down carefully. “I can help in the kitchen. I can clean wounds. I can help with chickens.”

Rita glanced at her hands, then at her face. “You cook?”

“Yes.” Donya met her eyes. “And I am good at following instructions.”

“Alright.” Rita nodded. “We will see after.”

Nicholas looked at Savannah.

“Tomorrow you will start with the pigs,” he said.

Savannah looked at him for a moment, then nodded once. “Alright.”

“And you.” Nicholas turned to Louis. “You can help me on the roof. There are some shingles need replacing.”

Louis had never repaired a roof in his life. “I’ll do my best.”

Nicholas grunted again. Rita rose before anyone had finished. Cherish stood at once, reaching for the nearest plate. Louis stood up too.

“I will take that.” He reached for the plate she held. She let go, her fingers brushing his for half a second before she pulled her hand back.

“Thank you.” She looked at the plates in his hands. “The stew bowls go by the sink first. Plates on the left. Forks in the little pan. Not the big one. Sorry. The big one is for soaking.”

“Got it.”

He followed her into the kitchen. Rita was already at the counter, scraping leftovers into one bowl. Cherish set the bowls where she had said they belonged. Louis placed the plates on the left.

“Here?”

“Yes. Thank you. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he said softly.

She looked up, startled, then looked away. “I am sorry. I mean, I am supposed to say thank you.”

Rita did not look over. “Cherish.”

The girl went still. “Yes, Mama.”

“Think before you speak. Not everyone needs your nervousness.”

“Yes, Mama.”

Louis looked down at the plate in his hand. Cherish stood with her shoulders drawn in and waited before touching the next dish. He put the last plate down. She took it, rinsed it once under the tap, and set it aside. Her hands were surer when they were busy.

“That bucket goes to the pigs?” Louis asked.

She glanced at him, surprised. “Some of it. Not the onion skins. They don’t get the onions. Mama keeps those separate.”

“I didn’t know pigs had rules.”

“They have stomachs.” The words were out before she could stop them. “Sorry. I mean, they can get sick easy.”

Louis smiled despite himself. “That was fair.”

For the first time, she almost smiled. It vanished almost at once. Louis looked away before he kept staring. Behind them, Rita set a dish in the sink. Her eyes were on them now.

“Cherish,” she said, “take the scraps out. I will finish here.”

Cherish reached for the bucket. Louis stepped forward.

“I can take them,” Louis said.

“No,” Rita said. “She knows where to go.”

Cherish took the bucket and walked out the back door without another word.

From the dining room, Gladice called in, her voice light. “Careful, Georgy. Some fathers shoot men for getting too helpful.”

Nicholas answered before Louis could. “Some fathers should.”

Louis returned to the dining room. Angelique was standing now, one hand resting on the back of her chair.

“Shall we go to bed?” she asked him.

He nodded. The others stood. Rita finished at the sink and turned.

“I will show you where you sleep.”

She led them down a narrow back hall off the kitchen. The room was at the end, past a laundry alcove and a door that led outside. It looked like a room for hired hands. Three plain wooden bunk beds stood along the walls. The mattresses were narrow and covered in ticking. A heavy curtain covered the only window. They put down their backpacks by the corner.

“Sleep here,” Rita said. “The bathroom is down the hall, but do not use the hot water too long. And no lights after ten.”

Gladice looked at the ceiling. “Is there a curfew too?”

“If I say there is, there is.” Rita’s voice was flat. “Be quiet. Be useful. Don’t make trouble. We don’t owe you more than that.”

Louis nodded. “Thank you. Good night.”

“Good night.” Rita left and closed the door behind her.

The door had no lock on their side. The walls were thin. Louis could hear water running in the kitchen and boards creaking somewhere down the hall. A cow mooed once outside the curtained window.

Gladice sighed. “Well. This is cozy.”

“It’s clean.” Willa opened the dresser drawer, checked inside, and pulled out a set of towels. She tossed them onto the nearest bed. “And it’s better than sleeping on the road.”

“True.” Gladice moved to a bunk and sat down, testing the mattress. The wood creaked beneath her. “But I miss the hot tub. Terrible survival instinct, I know.”

Donya stood near the curtained window, twisting her hands together. “I’m just glad to be alive.”

“We all are,” Willa said. “But I don’t think we should relax yet. They may be helping us, but that doesn’t mean we can trust them.”

Savannah pushed off the door. Her hand stayed near the pistol at her side. “We don’t trust anybody.”

“Then let’s keep it that way.” Willa looked from the curtained window to the door, then to Louis. “We should post a watch tonight.”

“A full watch will ruin us by morning,” Angelique said. She sat on the lower bunk with her elbows on her knees. “We know they are heretics. That means they are hiding from the state too. But we should keep our weapons within reach.”

Savannah nodded. “Agreed.”

Gladice lay back on the mattress and folded her arms behind her head. “I am going to sleep like the dead tonight.”

“Good luck with that,” Savannah said. She looked at Louis. “What’s the plan?”

“We should contact my father now that we’re not on the road.” Louis sat on the bed beside Angelique. “Tell him where we are and what happened. Ask him for further instructions.”

“Alright.” Willa opened her pack. “I’ll do it. But we should keep it short.”

“Of course.”

She took out the Athena phone and sat on the other bed. Her fingers moved. Savannah remained at the door. Gladice got up and crossed to the window. She lifted the curtain a fraction and looked into the yard. The barn and lane were still. Donya sat on the lower bunk. The others watched Willa.

“Ready,” she said. “I can mask the burst for a few minutes. After that, they can trace it if they try.”

Louis took the phone and started the call. Constantine answered almost immediately.

“Louis. Where are you?”

“Somewhere in Kentucky.” Louis put it on speaker. “Our extraction was compromised.”

“Yes. I received your message this morning. Tell me details.”

Louis set the phone on the bed.

“Barlow sold us out. Savannah caught him. We questioned him. He’s dead. We had to improvise a new escape plan.”

Constantine was silent for a moment. “Are you safe now? And the girls?”

“Everyone is safe for the moment.” Louis glanced at the door, then back to the phone. “We found help. A family on a farm. They are part of a snake-handling church. In short, they took us in.”

“A snake-handling church?” Constantine’s voice sharpened. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I know what they are. We made a deal with them. They won’t turn us in.”

“Be on your guard, Louis.” Constantine’s voice hardened. “Those people are unpredictable.”

“Understood.”

“Who knows you are there?”

“The staff couple from the cabin and the family on the farm. No one else. They belong to the same church network.”

Constantine exhaled. “Alright. Stay where you are for now. I’ll arrange a new extraction. But it will take time to set up.”

“How much time?”

“I will let you know as soon as I have something. Keep your heads down and stay alert.”

“Alright.”

“Good. I’m glad you are alive.” There was a pause. “Do they know who you are?”

“They suspect I’m important. But they don’t know I’m your son. The Dixies aren’t exactly informed on the external world.”

“Keep it that way as long as you can. And take care of the girls.”

“I will.” Louis hesitated, then added, “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, son. Now stay alive. I’ll update you soon.” The call ended.

Willa took the phone back and turned it off.

Gladice exhaled. “So we are stuck here for a while.”

“Apparently.” Angelique looked at the ceiling. “At least we have a roof.”

Donya sat down on the lower bunk. “What if they find out who we are?”

“Then we lie,” Gladice said. “Or we run. Or we kill. In that order.”

Savannah stayed near the door. “They won’t believe anything we say anyway. We are outsiders. That’s enough.”

Louis looked at Angelique. She stared at her feet.

“The girl,” Angelique said softly. “Cherish.”

He knew who she meant. He had been waiting for it.

“Yes.”

“She reminded you of someone.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

She watched him for a moment. Gladice had gone still on the opposite bunk.

Angelique looked away. “It doesn’t change anything.”

“No.” He wanted that to be true. “It doesn’t.”

Gladice stretched. “Well. This is a terrible place to get emotional. Let’s try to sleep before someone makes us milk cows at midnight.”

Donya laughed. “Do they milk cows at midnight?”

“I have no idea,” Gladice said. “But I will not be surprised if they try.”

Angelique looked from her to Louis and back. “Get ready for bed. We will need sleep.”

“Can we have sex first?” Gladice asked.

Louis raised an eyebrow. “Here?”

“We can be quiet.” She winked. “Just you and me. On the top bunk.”

“Glads,” Angelique said. “We are in a stranger’s house with thin walls.”

“They already think we are sinners,” Gladice rolled her eyes. “Why disappoint them?”

“I’d like some fun too. But they are our only protection at the moment,” Willa said. “Let’s not antagonize them until we have an alternative.”

Gladice sighed dramatically. “Fine. No sex.”

“You can still sleep with me, if you want,” Louis said.

Gladice grinned. “Deal.”

She took off her jeans and climbed into the top bunk in her t-shirt and panties. Louis took off his pants and followed her. The mattress was narrow enough that they had to lie on their sides, facing each other, her knee pressed between his legs and his shoulder against the edge. Angelique turned off the light as the others got into bed.

“I’m still horny,” Gladice whispered in his ear.

“Me too,” he whispered back. His cock hardened against her thigh. He slid a hand down her back, then under her panties to cup her ass. She pressed closer, grinding against him.

“I wish I could ride you,” she whispered. “Right now.”

“We can’t. Not here.”

“I know.” She kissed him softly. “But I can still make you feel good.”

She slipped her hand into his boxers and wrapped her fingers around his hard cock. He groaned quietly. She stroked him slowly, her thumb circling the head. He buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent.

“You’re so hard,” she whispered.

“For you,” he breathed.

She kept stroking, her movements slow and teasing. He slid his hand into her panties, found her wet folds, and rubbed her clit in slow circles. She gasped, her breath warm against his ear.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered.

“I won’t.”

He could hear Angelique shifting in the bunk below. Then he heard a soft sigh from Willa’s bed. He knew they were awake. He knew they could hear everything. Gladice’s movements on his cock grew faster, more urgent. He rubbed her clit harder, feeling her body tremble. She was getting close. He could hear her breathing quicken.

“Don’t be too loud,” Angelique whispered from below.

“We won’t,” Gladice whispered back.

“Louis,” Donya’s voice came from the other bunk. “I can hear you.”

“Sorry,” Louis whispered.

“It’s okay,” Donya said. “It’s... nice.”

He kept rubbing Gladice’s clit, feeling her get wetter. She stroked him faster. He could feel the pressure building in his balls.

“I’m close,” he whispered.

“Me too.”

He came with a groan he tried to muffle against her shoulder. His cum spilled over her fingers. She kept stroking until he was spent. Her own orgasm followed a moment later, her body shaking against him, her thighs tightened around his hand.

“You guys need a towel?” Willa asked from the other bed.

“Please,” Gladice giggled.

Willa got up and came to their bunk. She handed them a towel from the stack. Louis cleaned himself as Gladice wiped her crotch. Then Willa went back to bed.

“Y’all are something else,” Savannah said from her bunk. “No shame at all.”

“Shame is for people who aren’t having fun,” Gladice whispered.

Louis settled back into the bunk, pulling Gladice against him. He closed his eyes, but the image of Cherish’s face lingered. They settled in silence. He could hear the soft breathing of the others below.

“Do you want to talk about her?” Gladice asked after a while.

“Who?”

“Jennifer. Or the girl who looks like her.”

Louis kept his arm around her. “I don’t know what to say.” He took a breath. “She’s not her.”

“No. She’s not.” Gladice stroked his chest. “But she has her hair. And her eyes. And the way she holds herself.” She paused. “I miss her too.”

“She died because of me.” He felt his stomach tighten.

“No,” Gladice said. “She died because of the men who killed her. Not because of you.”

He did not answer.

“I know you think it’s your fault,” she whispered. “But it’s not.”

He held her tighter. “I wish I could believe that.”

“You will.” She kissed his cheek. “Someday.”

He closed his eyes again, but sleep did not come. When it finally did, he dreamed of the ocean, of a carrier deck at night, with Jennifer standing at the railing under stars. She turned as he approached, and her face was Cherish’s.