Wilted

f o u r

When we return to the barn and the others are back, they've brought a large amount of food back from the RV. I eye it hungrily and my stomach rumbles. Elisa places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it before letting it fall to her side. 

Rick examines all the food. It's more than we've seen in a while. I wasn't sure that this much food could even exist anymore. 

"This," Rick says tossing a can up and down while walking towards Aaron. "This is ours now."

"There's more than enough." He responds.

"It's ours whether or not we go to your camp." He rephrases. 

"What do you mean?" Carl asks from beside me. "Why wouldn't we go?"

"If he were lying, or if he wanted to hurt us, but he isn't, and he doesn't." Michonne reasons looking at all of the opposing eyes in the room. "We need this. So we're going, all of us. Somebody say something if they feel differently."

"I don't know man," My dad speaks up from the other side of the barn. "This barn smells like horse shit."

"Yeah." Rick says softly, as if finally realizing that Aaron might not be the bad guy and how badly we need a place to call home. "We're going." 

Rick then turns to Aaron and begins asking questions about how we'll get back to his camp. He's still hesitant and it's obvious that we're doing things on Rick's terms. I sit with Carl at the back of the barn while they discuss the plan. 

"Do you think this is real?" I ask him. "This whole community?" 

"I hope so." He says squeezing my hand. 

"We leave at sundown." Rick's voice echoes to us. 

"We're doing this at night?" Sasha asks in disbelief. 

"Look I know it's dangerous." He attempts to justify. "But it's better than riding up to the gates during the day. If it isn't safe, we need to get done before they know we're there."

"No one is going to hurt you." Aaron's voice says. "You're trying to protect your group, but you're putting them in danger."

"Tell me where the camp is, we'll leave right now." Rick bargains. Aaron just shakes his head and Rick nods in a 'I told you so' kind of way. "It's gonna be a long night. Eat. Get some rest if you can."

Rick exits the barn and begins to examine the cars, leaving the rest of us inside. Most of us stand around for a minute before dispersing. Dad looks at the food grabbing two cans. He hands one of them to me, they're spaghetti o's. 

"Just like the good ole days."I say remembering how we used to eat them all the time. Mostly when I was a toddler, or when Merle attempted to cook. He smiled and laughed.

"That's why I gave them to ya." he said ruffling my braid and sitting down to eat his own can of beans.

"Alright Cheri, what do you want for dinner tonight." Daryl asked the 3 year old. 

"Ghetti O's!" Cherokee yelled, not quite able to say the word spaghetti. She tried her hardest and thats what counted. 

"You heard the little lady." Merle said tickling her stomach. "Ghetti O's it is." 

Her high pitched laugh rang through out the house as she begged Merle to stop. He didn't listen and it wasn't until Daryl had 'rescued' her that her giggles ceased.  

I smiled back on the memory. My heart started to ache as I thought of my uncle, but I shook off the feeling as I popped open the can and began to eat. The feeling of tiny circles of pasta made me feel extremely nostalgic.