Odd Billy Todd (48 page)

But, it wasn’t her business, either, she decided. Debbie was grown.

Georgie in tow, the couple started up the road.

Behind them Debbie rose tiredly to her feet, and started for her bedroom. She had taken three steps when a wave of dizziness and nausea struck her. Before she could react, she fell to the floor, unconscious.

*****

“Well, that’s a load you boys got,” Jerry said approvingly. Ben Kelvey nodded in agreement.

“Enough materials to build a house, pretty much,” he added, looking into the two trailers that carried the building supplies.

“Got a decent haul from a pharmacy, too,” George told them, nodding to Amy. “Might want to look through it.”

“I will,” Amy nodded.

“What’s in the Army rig?” Ralph asked. George grinned at him.

“I raided the Guard armory at Columbia,” he told them. “Got a whole bunch o’ goodies, too,” he added with a snicker.

“I bet,” Ralph grinned back. “Anything interesting?”

“Well, I think there’s enough tack vests for all of us to have one,” George nodded. “Plus BDU’s, boots, everything we need. Even radios.”

“Nice,” Ralph nodded. “Debbie said tell you she was glad you were back safe,” he added, more quietly. George nodded, hoisting Georgie up in his arms.

“I’ll. . .I’ll try to visit,” he said quietly. “Good to see you, little man,” he told his son,

“Where you been, Daddy?” the youngster asked. “Missed you.”

“Aw, I missed you, too, little buddy,” George replied with a tight hug, trying to keep his emotions under control.

“Big truck,” he said excitedly, pointing to the rigs.

“Very big truck,” George nodded. “Wanna see’em closer?” he asked.

“Sure!”

Terry walked his son over to the rigs, wondering what a conversation with his wife would bring. He decided he would go and see, after he spent some quality time with his son.

Maybe Debbie would be in a mood to talk sensible.

*****

“Well, that was fun,” said Rhonda as she and Billy unloaded his gear from the rig and placed it in the Ford.

“Sure was,” Billy said tiredly. He really wasn’t paying attention. He was beat.

“Billy, I think you need a day or two of rest,” Rhonda told him. “You’re about done in.”

“I’ll be fine,” Billy waved her off. “Will be good to sleep in my own bed again, though,” he added. “I am tired,” he admitted. “Still, we got a lot o’ stuff done. We’re in a lot better shape now than we been a bein’.”

“I’m sure we are, but it’s time you got some rest,” Rhonda told him flatly. “And there’s plenty to do at the farm for a week or two, so you don’t have to worry ‘bout having something to do.”

“Yeah, I’ll need to get caught up,” Billy nodded. “About time to start plantin’ our cache tubes, too,” he added.

“Okay,” Rhonda nodded. “Let’s go home and get cleaned up first, and get some rest. I’m tired.”

*****

George walked back with Ralph and Amy, Georgie riding on his shoulders.

“You gonna live with us again, daddy?” the boy asked, and George felt a lump in his throat.

“I’ve always lived with you Georgie,” he said honestly. “Why would I stay away?”

“Don’t know,” the boy admitted. “Just missed you. Afraid you was gonna stay gone.”

“No, buddy, I’m not staying gone,” George promised. Right then he made his decision to do whatever it took to work things out with Debbie. He could live in misery if it meant his son didn’t. That was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

At the house, Amy opened the door, and Ralph stepped in behind her, followed by George and Georgie. By the time George was inside, Amy had already ran to where Debbie lay on the floor.

“Ralph, get my bag. Hurry!”

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

“What’s wrong with momma, daddy?” Georgie asked quietly.

Debbie had been moved to their bedroom, and Amy was examining her as George and his son sat in the living room. Ralph was in the hallway, in case Amy needed any assistance.

“I don’t know, buddy,” George told him. “But Miss Amy is with her, so I’m sure she’ll be okay.”

“I like Miss Amy,” Georgie nodded. “She’s nice.”

“She sure is, isn’t she,” George nodded. He was trying to maintain his calm, but it wasn’t easy. He needed to be strong for his little boy, though. He heard Amy speak, though he couldn’t make out the words. Ralph nodded, and walked into the living room.

“Amy can’t figure out exactly what’s wrong,” he admitted. “Blood pressure is up and then down, and she’s real pale. No idea why, exactly. Amy says there’s two or three things might cause it. One of’em is some kinda poxy something, but that only happens to pregnant women.”

“It can’t be that, then,” George shook his head. “Debbie can’t have any more children, remember? Doctor told us that back when.”

“She can’t, or ain’t supposed to?” Ralph asked, eyeing Georgie carefully.

George Senior blinked.

“Ah, he said couldn’t. And we, uh, you know, never used any sort of, ah, preventive measures.”

“Maybe you should go talk to Amy,” Ralph said, weighing his words with care. “Me and Georgie can wait here. Can’t we buddy?”

“Well, I guess,” George Junior said, nodding.

George walked to the bedroom door, and looked in. Amy looked up at him, motioning him into the room.

“George, are you sure, I mean absolutely sure, that she can’t get pregnant?” Amy asked.

“Well, the doctor told us after Georgie was born that Debbie had suffered some damage that would make it impossible for her to conceive again,” he answered. “That sounded pretty definite.”

“What was her problem, exactly?” Amy pressed. “Was it a breached delivery?”

“Well, yeah, I think that’s the term. I know that Georgie was turned wrong, and making sure he was right caused a lot of damage. Deb almost bled out, in fact, it was so bad. We were lucky to save her. Or little man, either, for that matter.” Amy chewed on her lip, thinking.

“I can’t run the tests I need to see what’s wrong,” she admitted to him, finally. “I don’t know what to do, exactly, without that. If she’s not hypoxic, then it might be internal bleeding. That could be an ulcer that let go, or it could be something else. Her spleen maybe.”

“She doesn’t have one,” George suddenly remembered. “She had an accident when she was a teenager. Had to be removed.” Amy nodded.

“Okay, that helps.” Amy chewed on her lip again. Suddenly she started.

“I know you and her are having problems, George,” she said. “But are they normal? Has her behavior been off. I mean really off. We’ve all been off lately,” she added.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “You saw how she was about that girl, Mary. She’s been on about that, and then about the Tatum boy. Always downing Billy and Rhonda about the two kids.” He shook his head sadly. “It’s been like she’s trying to start something, you know?”

“Yes,” Amy nodded. “And you’re saying that’s not normal behavior? I’m not trying to pry, George, but anything that might help me get a clue here is important. Has she ever been treated for depression?”

“Yes,” George nodded. “After Georgie was born.”

“Any other time?” Amy pressed again.

“Not that I. . .well, wait,” he paused. “There was one time. A student of hers, really bright girl, was killed by her stepfather. He’d been abusing her for a long time, and she finally stood up to him. Deb was devastated. She cried for a week, off an on, sometimes just breaking down all out of the blue. We finally had to go to the doctor, and get her treatment for it.”

“What was the treatment?” Amy asked. “A drug?”

“Yeah, something with a P, I remember,” he nodded, thinking. “I can’t. . .you know, I remember kidding her it rhymed with axle, but I can’t. . . .”

“Paxil?” Amy asked.

“Yeah, that was it.”

“How long did she take it?”

“Well, she was still taking it,” George mused. “Or at least I guess she was,” he added. “We never talked about. I hated to say anything, since it always made her cry.” Amy sighed, leaning down to the point that he head could touch the bed.

“So she hasn’t had Paxil since at least the plague, is that it?”

“I can’t rightly say,” George admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“Where did she keep her medicines?” Amy demanded. “Anything that she might take for illness?”

George led her to a small bag in their bathroom, which Amy upended on the counter. She scrambled through the bottles, finally finding what she was looking for.

“This is 20mg Paxil,” she breathed. “Strong. And there’s three pills left. Out of ninety, dated right at the start of the Plague. She was trying to stretch them. And I bet wean herself off them,” she added. “Smart girl.”

“What?” George asked.

“This drug is addictive,” Amy told him. “Almost impossible to stop taking, without a doctor’s help. And she didn’t have a doctor. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get more, so she’s been stretching what she had, and making do.” Amy sighed.

“We can fix this,” she said confidently. “It will take some time, but we can fix it.” She looked up at George.

“This may explain her recent behavior,” she told him. “I’d bet on it, in fact.”

“Really?” George asked. He so wanted things to be right. “I had no idea she was still taking it. She never discussed that kind of thing with me. And I didn’t pry. Maybe I should have.”

“Takes two to communicate,” Amy said kindly. “You may shoulder some blame, but so does she. The important thing is, we can help her now. Probably. She should come around after she sleeps. I’m almost positive that she’s suffering from fatigue as much as anything else. She’s hasn’t been eating good, she’s been scrimping on her meds, though out of necessity. She’s stressed, and she’s depressed. Not a good combination.” She laid her hand on George’s arm.

“Don’t worry, George,” she told him confidently. “We’ll make it right.”

*****

Debbie came around slowly, her eyes adjusting in the dim light. She looked around, her gaze coming to rest on George, asleep in a chair near the bed. His head was over on his shoulder, one hand bracing it, elbow resting on the chair arm. She tried to rise, but her head spun, and she lay back with a groan.

George was awake in an instant. Two seconds later he was kneeling by her side, holding her hand in both of his.

“How are you?” he asked softly. One hand came up to smooth her hair back from her face.

“Whmmphh,” she tried, but her mouth and throat were bone dry.

“Wait a minute,” George reached out to her night stand and took a small glass with water, holding it up for her to drink. She did so greedily, and drained the glass.

“Want more?”

“No,” she gasped. “What happened?” she asked, lying back again.

“You fainted, I guess, for lack of a better word,” George told her, replacing the glass on the night stand and reclaiming her hand. “Amy says you’re suffering from fatigue, among other things. And that you’re suffering from withdrawal from the Paxil.”

“I thought I had that under control,” Debbie replied, her eyes closed. “I really did.”

“Baby, you should have told me,” George scolded lightly. “Why didn’t you?”

“George, you had so much on you,” she said softly, a single tear trailing down her cheek. “I. . .I just couldn’t add to that. And it was my problem to deal with.”

“That’s bullshit,” George told her firmly, though his voice was kind. “We’re married, Debbie. Any problem one of us has, both of us have.”

“Things were so. . .so messed up,” she sobbed suddenly. “I could hear myself saying things I shouldn’t, and for the life of me I couldn’t stop. I know, I knew, I was hurting you, and making everyone else mad, and I still couldn’t stop myself. I was afraid that anything I said would just sound like an excuse.”

“Debbie, you can’t keep stuff like that from me,” George told her. “Now, more than ever, we have to be there for one another, and support one another. And it’s not just for us, either. We have to be strong for one another so we can both be strong for Georgie. He’s gonna grow up in a much harder world than we did. We’ve got to work together, for our own happiness and for his.”

“I know,” Debbie cried softly. “I’m so sorry I’ve added to your burden, my dear husband. I never meant to. I tried so hard, but I couldn’t. . . .”

“No more of that,” George placed a finger to her lips. “None. From now on, we talk about things like this. Amy says we can beat this. You just need help, that’s all.”

“And I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”

*****

Word passed slowly but surely throughout the small community about Debbie’s condition. No one bothered to inform the new arrivals, figuring it wasn’t any of their business. They hadn’t been here, anyway, so there was no reason for them to know anything.

Amy looked through the meds that Billy and the others had brought back from Columbia and found a couple that would help Debbie.

“I think she’ll be fine in a few weeks,” Amy informed George. “She’ll have some rough spots as the drug flushes out, and then she’ll have some more as she relearns how to cope without the meds. Just be patient. She’ll need it.”

“I will,” he promised.

Billy had ridden over to talk to George that afternoon, wondering if he was intending to go out anymore, with Debbie in such a condition.

“No,” George said firmly. “She needs me to be here, and so does my son. I’m staying put.”

“Think that’s a wise decision,” Billy nodded in approval. “Meantime, I got a project or two I can work on. Imagine ever body else does too. We made a goodly haul, back there. I think we can afford to sit home a spell.”

“You did really good back there Billy,” George said. “Really good.” Billy nodded, but said nothing. He didn’t know what to say, or what to think about it, anyway.

“I’m glad you went with me,” George added, smiling.

“Enjoyed it myself,” Billy grinned. “Reckon I’ll be gettin’ home. Gonna ride up and check on the new folks first, I guess. You need anything, you let us know, hear?”

“I will Billy, and thanks.” Billy nodded again and pulled Samson around toward the Clifton farm, Rommel already out in front.

As he rode, Billy thought about the last few weeks. He’d been busy, and hadn’t really figured things together like he normally would. He didn’t like that. Too easy to forget, to make mistakes.

Their food situation was pretty good at the moment, and being able to clean out two trucks of canned goods, along with a good bit of flour, meal, and oil, hadn’t hurt. True, they had more mouths to feed now, but a lot more food, too. And three more adults and two teens to help share the work load that new mouths entailed.

The train arriving in Columbia had bothered Billy. He had wondered where they were, and if they had gone on to greener pastures. Now, he knew they were still around. Still moving from place to place. They wouldn’t find much to their liking in Columbia, Billy knew. But they’d find plenty of fuel, and likely some other goodies still lying around.

If they took the time and effort to look through the houses, they’d likely find some usable goods, as well as guns and ammunition, but they wouldn’t find any in the stores. And thanks to George, they wouldn’t find anything at the Armory either. Billy paused, thinking about the weapons from the armory.

Those would be real military weapons. Automatic rifles, machine guns, maybe some heavier stuff, he didn’t know for sure. A lot of firepower in the wrong hands.

And right now it was sitting inside a truck and trailer in a pasture. Along with every round of ammo the armory had contained.

That just wasn’t safe, he figured. That stuff needed to be broke apart into smaller groups of equipment, and hid. Stashed where it could be got to in a hurry.

Thinking of that reminded Billy that his own cache’s still weren’t in the ground, either. He shook his head in disgust at that realization. What was he thinking? Was he getting lazy?

No, no chance of that with Rhonda around. She kept him jumping like a frog in a fireplace. He wasn’t lazy, but he had forgotten. There were plenty of excuses he could make, he figured, but he tried not to use excuses. If he got into a habit of it, then he’d start using them all the time.

And that just wouldn’t do at all. He had to keep focused. Had to keep things going. He wasn’t just responsible for himself, anymore, or even just him and Rhonda. Now there was Mary to think on, and Danny as well. He had to figure them into everything, and make sure they were safe, cared for, and well provided for.

That was his responsibility.

Which reminded him that he hadn’t taught Danny to shoot, yet. Well, he already knew how to shoot, but Billy hadn’t gotten him a better rifle, and made sure he knew how to use it.

Mary needed the same thing. She had that Ruger, but it was awful heavy. She needed something light. Easy to shoot. He wondered what was in that stuff from the armory. There might be a light carbine in there. He might need to look through it, unless Rhonda had something for her. They could ride over to the gravel pit range and get the two youngsters used to their new weapons.