Bird Land Storm Land

Bird-Land Storm-Land

It’s not like you can tell, father said.
What does that mean, daughter said?
It means when it happens you won’t feel it.

What’s it like?
It’s like silence.
Silence sounds nice, daughter said, but I like music better.
It is better, father said.
When can I come back, once they take me?
I won’t let them take you, father said.
What about mother, daughter said?

Father opened his pack and handed daughter a flashlight, she could see that he wanted to say something else, but all he said was, I don’t know.

What happened to mother had been a question on the tip of daughter’s tongue since she was taken in the night, and daughter was good at not saying anything, in order to protect father’s feelings, but after the poison dropped she blurted it out more often. She longed her to keep the thoughts to herself, as if keeping them inside could turn back time and as if keeping them inside could keep her mother safe, and if she could just keep her safe a little longer, father would find her and they could be a family again.

Without sister, daughter thought and felt guilty.

Daughter imagined mother breathing for her and she longed to tell mother stories about a boy she liked at school, but school was not what she did now. Now she and father tried to outrun the scavengers, looked for clean water, and tested food for poison, but sometimes she felt weak and it came out. Father was nice about it, but she could see it challenged him, because he missed mother.

I’m no kid, daughter said, you can tell me what happened.
It was said quietly and with respect; daughter loved father and wanted his stories of mother.

Can you tell me what she wore or what she looked like when you met, daughter said? She was afraid of forgetting mother’s eyes.

She looked like a queen with the prettiest face in the world; father said she looked like you.

The moon was very bright and big, it shone on the lake and father’s eyes glistened. Like stars without a home. There were still frogs in the lake although all the birds had died after the poison dropped. Father explained it like a scientist forgetting how little daughter knew of science.

It gets inside and suffocates them, father said, meaning the birds.

But they’re all floating, fat like after a storm, with dirty beaks, daughter said, I saw the swan we call Pearl float by with her babies beside her, they weren’t dead yet.
Daughter, it is a tragedy, but we must be grateful for the frogs and the fish, they’re still alive, we have to get used to no more birds.

But the babies, don’t you think they’ll live? daughter said.

They are all dying, that’s why we can’t hear their songs anymore. We’re leaving in the morning, the lake is sick, the frogs are sick, the fish are sick, maybe the birds are alive somewhere else, where the poison didn’t fall.

What will we eat? daughter said.

We’ll find something, father said, but she could tell he didn’t know and was just saying it because he had to.

She saw a shiver go through him and reached out to squeeze his arm and he pulled her close to him and gave her a hug and when he let go she caught his eyes full of the Fear God.
He got up and pretended to look at the edge of the dock for something, but daughter knew this was to protect her.
On this night, the sky went black. Like a storm was coming. Daughter watched the stars get covered and the moon get covered and was frightened. She woke up father and pointed up: is it more poison?

Father looked up and said; I think we better find shelter. And daughter rolled her blanket and put it in her bag and father held her hand and they went off into the night.

The day the poison fell from the sky father saw something purple and heard moaning – just like the reports from the other cities. He was standing next to daughter and they ran to the cellar together. There he wrapped daughter’s eyes in rubber and surgical tape, like the radio had told him to do.

But, sister, daughter said.
I know, father said.

Sister went on a bike-ride and didn’t get back before the sky let out its death. Father covered daughter’s face with the oxygen mask first, even though this was not the order recommended. Then daughter heard him put his on. They hid together and listened to the screams from above.

Daughter wondered if it was sister dying, and knew it to be the worst pain, being safe while your sister is dying. She didn’t tell father, he was uttering prayers to summon help from the Spirit Gods for sister, for mother, for daughter, for himself. Daughter choked on the sad, knowing any noise could give them away. She heard shouting, muffled by the door. She heard a girl crying and whispered, is that sister? But the masks were thick and father said, I can’t tell.

After a while the world went silent and father told the story of the Chupacabra and how its fangs sank into bad people easier than if you were good. This comforted daughter and then daughter taught father the Irish folk song she learned in school.

In the morning, daughter looked back at where their house stood at the bricks that survived the explosion.

Father look. Daughter pointed to the rubble where a doll’s head was sticking out, it’s Cindy-doll.

She started to go towards it but father stopped her, you can’t, she’s covered in poison.
It struck daughter how much you can love a thing. My heart hurts like if it were a person, daughter thought, but felt ashamed and didn’t say it out loud.

The dock in front of the house was still there, and father and daughter sat and shared a bottle of water.

Daughter peed in the bushes and when she got back, father looked at her with serious eyes. You have to keep yourself clean; it might be days before you can shower again.

Yes, father.

And change your socks, help me remember, we have to change our socks.

She knew this rule from survival class at school, always change your socks and the most important thing is water. Keep your hands clean. Don’t touch your face.

The street was gone, but they walked over rubble to somewhere new, on their way there were men bubbling from the mouth, scary dirties and pretty ladies offering father blow things. There were no more structures, all they had was each other not even Dog lived.

Sometimes daughter saw sister in the faces of the young ladies, but it wasn’t ever her.
One time daughter called out, sister! but the girl who turned had eyes like something dead, without shine or happy.

Father found water when they saw a man slumped over his belongings. Father went through his things and found a long knife and a killing stick. Father gave daughter the knife, save yourself, if it comes to it, he said.

He cleaned the opening of the water bottle with alcohol and daughter drank first but slowly, so as not to throw it up. Father drank too and they wore giant straw hats father had taken from the dead.
One day they saw mother, father told daughter not to look, it was too late. Mother was draped over the top of a car that two men were pushing. The men looked mean, and had dark skin from no hats.

Is she for sale, first man yelled?
Father didn’t answer, but daughter knew they meant her.

Mother was dressed in white like a bride, but her arms were taped to her sides with duct tape, so she couldn’t wave or prop herself up, she was crying and laughing at the same time like a crazy puppet. Her face was leathery from the hot sun. Daughter knew it was mother by how hard father cried after, but then again, she looked so old, daughter couldn’t be sure. To daughter, the question had to stay inside because to hear the answer might make it true.

We’ll give you water; just hand her over! second man yelled and both laughed like ghosts haunted.

Father pretended not to hear, but daughter could tell he was worried.

Will that happen to me?
Don’t be afraid, father said, I will protect you, but daughter was.
Will that happen to me?

They continued onward until they saw a an abandoned house at edge of their beloved lake, near where the witch of the hills was rumored to live, no one was inside, and daughter sat on the ground waiting for father to tell her it was safe, she couldn’t go one more step, her legs itched from resting. The ants were running around violently and father helped daughter up. They made beds inside and slept the sleep of the damned, dreaming dreams of their old life and fighting scavengers in their new one.

In the middle of the night, a teenage girl stood over father with a gun held to his head. She was wearing a prom dress and missing her front teeth. Daughter watched as the girl tied father up. A boy in clown makeup went through father’s things, taking his killing stick and his socks. Another girl came in hot shorts and a feathered vest; she had a blue glitter stripe across her brown skin from temple to temple. They wore combat boots, with duct tape holding them together.

Daughter watched as father prepared for death. She tried to look away, but a boy held her there and made her, saying, it’s you who kills him. He put the knife into daughter’s hand and pushed it towards father, and said, once he’s dead, you’ll belong to us.

Father looked up with love in his eyes. At a loud thud from outside, they all turned and the boy lost his grip. Daughter took the knife and sliced his throat and grabbed the girl in hot shorts. She’ll die too, let him go.

The Prom dress girl gave a sad smile and said sure, and cut the ropes. That’s when daughter saw her; it was sister in a dirty gold dress, leave these two alone she ordered and the whole gang backed off. Daughter understood: she was their leader. Give him back his socks and his killing stick. Sister acted like she didn’t recognize her family; she ushered out the gang, the girl in hot shorts carried the dying boy like he was contaminated and when they were gone, sister turned and mouthed, I love you, and left with her new family.

Father didn’t cry, but daughter did, she couldn’t help it.

lisadouglass2009