All Is Silence - Deserted Lands #1

Chapter 14 - Part II

THE SUN’S HEAT THROUGH THE greenhouse glass steamed the dirt. Lizzie dripped sweat. She threw the weeds aside with a growl. Spike ducked and scuttled out of the way. “At least you could help instead of staring at me with those puppy-dog eyes.” His head cocked at an angle, very dog-like, and he watched her warily.

She had agreed to help out at Joe’s Garden while Nev and Zach went to the gathering, so she wouldn’t be seen if C.J.’s brother came. Nevaeh offered to take Saj, and Lizzie thought it would be some quiet time away from everyone. She hadn’t realized her break was babysitting Spike while working her ass off at a business. She remembered hearing about the Joe’s Garden franchise before everyone got sick, but her family could never afford the fresh veggies. Some black beetles in the compost pile distracted him.

“Hey, Spike?”

He glanced up at the sound of his name and shambled over.

She shook off a skinny little carrot and scrubbed it on her pant leg. It was sweet and crunchy. She offered one to Spike. He took a bite and then another. “Maybe you could dig up a row yourself and then I could shake off the weeds and keep the carrots.” His head cocked again. “Come on, Spike.”

Standing over the furrow, she motioned digging up the carrots. She tugged him gently into place and helped his hands go into the dirt. Then she moved slightly further on and made a flurry of digging. She spun to watch Spike. “Come on. I know you’re not a dog, but please?” She patted her thighs. “Spike, dig!”

He dug his hands in and tossed the dirt backward, weeds and carrots and all. Lizzie cheered. Spike grinned. He did a few more feet. She clapped her hands together. “Go, Spike, go.” He went. She followed along, shaking the carrots off to one side and kicking the weeds to the other.

Lizzie was thirsty, so she carried an armful of carrots to the table by the door and poured herself a cup of water. She pulled off her winter jacket and refilled the water cup, wondering if Spike had the sense that God gave dogs to know he was thirsty too. “Spike, you thirsty?”

She slapped some lunch meat and bread together; handed the water cup to Spike and bit into her sandwich. She made another for Spike.

He scarfed it down happily and loudly. She rubbed his head since he was squatting; if he stood straight up she’d be lucky to touch his shoulder.

Lizzie steamed inside, too. Why did Zach want to go hang out with the hippies? Settling in with even more people was the last thing she wanted. But what if Nev and Zach both wanted to join the stupid little commune? She and Saj and Spike could stay at the lake. Why can’t I stand to be with people—or alone? She took a deep breath.

The heat and scent of the fertile earth comforted her somehow. She’d never had a green thumb, but then again she’d never really had any opportunity. She randomly pulled up leafy things, finding radishes, but sometimes just leaves, colored and green. Zach would probably know what to do with them. She ate the radish, zingy, but not too hot, and went back for another. She placed the rest of the plants by the door.

Vern had said to harvest a row of carrots and then weed the additional rows. She knew Spike couldn’t get the hang of weeding and Lizzie was tired of the carrots. Vern would have to deal with it. She pulled Spike away and headed him for the door. She grabbed her jacket and put it on as the cold outside the greenhouse doors hit her sweaty skin.

It would be a good idea to get Spike to go to the bathroom. She was glad Saj used diapers. She took him up to the nearest house in the stupid, generic neighborhood.

Lizzie helped Spike get his pants down and sit on the toilet. Nothing happened. “Don’t worry Spike, you’ll get there.” He sat. After a wait, she took him back outside.

“Let’s case some of the houses, Spike. Whattaya think?”

Spike looked eager to move. “Go, Spike. You pick which direction. Go.” He shuffled off behind the next house, more monkey than dog-like. Can we teach him? How much can he learn?

She sighed and sucked in air; it stung her lungs, but the cold seemed to temper the level of the stench from the dead and dying.

A low growl came from around the house. Lizzie ran and found Spike facing down a Doberman guarding a spilled garbage can. “Spike. Come.” The Doberman was ready to strike. “Spike. Now.” He backed away from the dog until he was next to her.

“Good job, Spike.” Lizzie patted his back as she pulled him. The Doberman took a step past the spilled garbage. “Stay,” Lizzie said in her lowest tone and took another step back, still standing up straight and glaring at the dog. The Doberman growled, but made no move.

They backed further away. The Doberman would let them be if they didn’t mess with his lunch. He didn’t see them as lunch yet. A couple mutts rounded the corner. They spied the Doberman and he spun to defend his treasure from the new interlopers. They circled snapping, each of them grabbing some of the garbage, barking and posturing at the others. The former pets had not figured out their pack hierarchy. Lizzie could see that as food got scarce, they needed to be more careful around man’s best friends.