Tessa and Leslie follow Auntie Alice into the kitchen. Aubrey waits for Denny. When Denny goes out onto the front porch, there is cheering.
“You look amazing,” Aubrey says.
It’s too much coming from him. I feel my cheeks burn. I think of spending the night huddled against Matt. I barely know either of these boys. But when I think of it, I barely knew Lane, and we shared much more than this puppy love that I have going on between Aubrey and Matt.
“Robbie? You all right?” Aubrey asks.
“I have no idea what’s going on.”
Aubrey thinks I’m talking about the people outside the house. “Just do what the other girls do. You’ll be fine.”
Through the screen door I hear Denny let out a loud “whoop.” “Welcome, my friends, to the race that never ends! The human race, that is!”
There are loud cheers from the front yard. Through the windows, I see the people from the tents in the back making their way out front. Mixed in the middle of the group is Dirks and the tired looking mother. She carries the baby in one arm and wraps her other through Dirks’.
“Aubrey, who is the lady with the baby?” I ask.
Aubrey looks to see if we are alone. “Her name is Shannon. Her baby’s name is Adam. Denny named him. I’m not sure, but I think she was Denny’s wife before any of this happened.”
“The baby looks really young.”
“Yeah. The dad is—” Aubrey stops.
Tessa and Leslie walk out of the kitchen carrying large wicker baskets. They walk past Aubrey and me and wait in the entrance hall.
“The dad is what?” I ask.
“Here you go, dear,” Auntie Alice says. She puts a similar basket in my hands.
All thoughts about the odd woman and her fussy baby drift away. “What do I do with this?” I ask. I am so confused in this world. I should have kept walking, I think. Or I should have fired directly on Aubrey and Matt when I encountered them. Even I know how ridiculous that sounds. I was starved for companionship. I admit it.
If I get out of this, I won’t make that mistake again.
“Come with us,” Leslie says. “You’re one of the bearers now.” Tessa can only glare at me. I have taken Bethany’s place.
I look at Aubrey for help. He nods his head in the direction of Leslie and Tessa.
“Get in line,” Aubrey says. He moves me behind Leslie. “When Denny calls you out, you carry the basket to the leader of the visiting tribe.”
“None of this is making any sense,” I say.
Leslie snaps her head around to face me. “A bearer doesn’t speak unless spoken to. Now be quiet, or you’ll get us all in trouble.”
There is another bugle blast. Outside, someone claps his hands. Tessa goes out first. The screen door slams behind her.
“Marvelous,” a man says. The crowd applauds.
There is another clap. Leslie goes through the door. I hear the delighted calls of the large group and then hefty applause.
“And now, the best for last, Mr. Gumm,” Denny says. He claps his hands twice.
I don’t know what to do. Aubrey nudges me, and I push open the screen door with my hip. It’s as if I have stage fright. I haven’t seen this many people since I headed out on my own. There is a sea of faces staring at me. I can tell the members of the visiting tribe, as Aubrey called them, by the way they are dressed: blue jeans, solid color tee-shirts with no slogans or advertisements or images. They wear bandanas on their heads, something my dad used to call “dew-rags.”
I don’t know what to do.
“Present your dowry, dear,” Auntie Alice says.
Her voice startles me. I turn to see her on the swinging love seat. She smiles her venomous smile and nods her head at the other side of the porch.
Denny sits in the wicker chair nearest the door. In the other one sits the heaviest man I have ever seen. I can’t imagine how a man can be that size in today’s world. Food is scarce, and with a man like this running around, it’s bound to be even more so.
A short, thin man stands next to the heavy man. He wears white jeans, a white tee-shirt, and a black sash across his chest. The sash loops over the right side of his neck. His bangs are cut straight across, but his hair is long in the back. He holds a trumpet in his right hand.
I stand with the basket in my hands. I can feel all those eyes on me. I need someone to tell me what I should do. No one moves or says anything.
“This a new wife, Denny?” the large man asks.
“She is new to the house, Gumm,” Denny says. His voice is even. I can’t read if he is happy with the moment or if he’s going to do something crazy.
Gumm looks me over. He smiles and holds out a thick, heavy looking hand to me. “Come, come, my dear,” he says. “Don’t be shy. Present me the last dowry.”
I walk in front of Denny. He watches my every move. All I do is hand the basket out to Gumm. The man holding the bugle tucks the instrument under his arm. He takes the basket. I look up to see Leslie indicating with her eyes that I should join her and Tessa over on the east side of the porch where it wraps around the side of the house. I bow my head and start to walk over to the other two bearers when Gumm claps his hands together and presses the sides of his pointer fingers against his lips.
“Oh,” Gumm says. He turns to the group he has brought to the house. His right hand clutches my arm. It’s sweaty. I know I will feel the sweat on my arm for a long time.
“My friends, did you see that?” Gumm asks. His eyes search mine. “She bowed to me. She showed me the honor and respect I know each and every one of you feels for me.” He turns back and faces the crowd. Gumm lowers his eyes, a hand over his chest. It takes the people standing below on the lawn a few moments, but eventually they each bow their heads.
Gumm takes the opportunity to give Denny a snide look, as if he’s saying, “Look at the power I have.” While the silent exchange takes place before the bowed heads, Denny flips up his middle finger. Gumm gives him a silent, mocking laugh. He claps his hands excitedly. The crowd raises its heads.
“Let’s see what else you have presented to me,” Gumm says.
The bugle man lifts the lid and looks inside. He reaches in and pulls out a square, metal container of instant cocoa. The crowd applauds politely.
“We have two dozen crates of the cocoa,” Denny says. “Ten boxes of the instant coffee and two gross of the meat sticks. I hope our dowry is sufficient.”
“Yes, of course,” Gumm says. His voice is full of false politeness. “And now we shall present ours.” Gumm nods.
The bugle man blows a short fanfare. The crowd parts. Through the gate from the street approach three groups of four young men. Each group carries their dowry on a barge supported over their shoulders. The gifts are covered with bed sheets. The first quad steps off to the right. The next quad moves to the left. The last quad steps in between the first two. In unison, the groups lower the shoulder barges with their hands and hold them waist high. Three young women walk single file through the gate. Each wears a pink tee-shirt cut off to reveal their flat, firm bellies. They wear white bandanas on their heads.
The first girl moves to the right and removes the sheet as she swirls around and kneels. As she genuflects, the four young men lift the barge back onto their shoulders. This first barge bears a basket of soaps and shampoos. There is a delighted squeal from the residents of the tent village. Auntie Alice looks over her shoulder at these people and then smiles thinly at Denny.
Denny applauds. The tent dwellers of Freedom House do the same.
The second girl in a pink half shirt does the same swirling dance as the first. She reveals a pyramid of soup cans. This Denny likes, and he stands as he claps. Those living at the house join in.
The third and final girl does her swirl and the people of the house audibly gasp. On the barge is a bushel of apples. Even my eyes water at the site of fresh fruit.
“We offer two hundred bars of soap and sixty small bottles of shampoo,” Gumm says. “There are four boxes of soups and four more bushels of fruit.”
“Where did you get the apples?” I ask.
Now the gasps are directed at me. I’ve done something. I’ve made a breach in protocol. The fifty or so people gathered on the front lawn stare anxiously at me. I’m afraid to look anywhere, so I look straight down.
Gumm begins to laugh.
“Oh my,” he says. “She is new.”
He laughs harder, and then everyone laughs. I think it’s Gumm who starts the applause.
The bugle man blows his horn. Gumm’s presenters retreat to the street.
“And now,” Mr. Gumm says. “Allow me to present my lineup.”
The bugle man blows his song. Some of the same young men who brought in the dowries return with a pair of what I can only imagine are prisoners. They are both male. One is much older than the other. They wear black bicycle pants and a black bicycle shirt with bright green stripes under each of the short sleeves. The stripes run down the seams of the black shirt and match up with a similar stripe on the pants. Their hands are bound together at the wrists with red, plastic bands. They are dirty, broken men.
The younger of the two stares at me as if he knows me from somewhere. He’s trying to recall my face.
“Troublemakers in your tribe?” Denny asks.
Mr. Gumm clicks his teeth, shakes his head, and wags a finger in the air. “Suspected spies,” he says. Then, confidentially, he adds, “They came through our town on bicycles. Started asking questions.” There is a murmur of suspicion through the crowd. Gumm seizes the paranoia. His fat, sweaty hands rub aggressively at his own knees. He nods, and the waddle under his chin shakes like a turkey’s. “Taking pictures.”
The crowd gasps. “We find these strangers guilty,” is what that gasp says.
Auntie Alice stands. She walks to the porch rail and stares at these men. “Guard,” she says.
“We’re not Guards,” the older man says. “I keep telling these people—”
“Silence!” Gumm says.
One of his bearers swings a fist into the man’s jaw. The older man drops to a knee. The younger man tries to lift the older one up by the elbow, but the bearer pushes him back.
“My rabbits will be waiting at the Velodrome,” Denny says.
Gumm nods.
The two rabbits are led off behind the house. Some of the tent dwellers spit on the men as they pass by.
The bugle man blows another chord. This time the remaining barge bearers enter single file, and I feel my stomach sink. Each of the men is preceded by a runner on the end of a long, wooden pole. The runners wear leather collars around their necks. Attached to the collars are metal U’s. A short length of chain is fed through each U and attached to a metal cap at the end of the wooden pole. The young barge bearers keep the runners at pole’s length. The runners’ hands are held together with white plastic straps. Some sort of chin brace is tied off over their heads to keep their mouths closed. Something rolls against the insides of their cheeks. It’s probably their tongues, but I keep think there are mice inside their mouths.
There are no celebratory chants or cheers from anyone. The crowd seems apprehensive. People ease back from the parade of runners.
“I am assuming your runners will be presented at the field?” Gumm asks.
“Yes,” Denny says. He goes down a couple of steps to give the runners a closer look. It’s part of the bravado of the moment. He stares at the putrid faces of the fungus filled zombies for a few moments, as if doing so makes him the bigger chieftain. When he has probably counted to a hundred by fives in his head, he turns around and joins Gumm on the porch.
“How many heats?” Denny asks.
“The customary three,” Gumm says.
“Agreed. Ante?”
“One dowry per heat.”
“No winner takes all?”
Gumm gives him a pouty little smile and wags a finger. “I prefer balance. This way, there is the possibility we could each win. I’m not saying there isn’t the chance one of us could sweep the race—I know that’s possible. I just want us each to have the opportunity to win at least one.”
“No need for greed,” Denny says. He holds out a hand.
Gumm struggles, but gets to his feet. “I wonder,” Gumm says, “if we might tweak the ante just a bit.”
Denny pulls back the hand he extended and uses it to rub his chin. “Go on,” Denny says.
Gumm smiles, his big, chubby hands sliding over one another as if we didn’t know he’s the archetype of evil. “Your new bearer,” he says.
“What of her?”
“I would like to have her.”
“Have me?” I say. I know it’s the wrong thing to do. Leslie is shocked. She pales and trembles like one of those miniature greyhounds. Tessa folds her lips in, holding back her own satisfied grin. I may have gotten away with speaking once, but this last crack is going to land me in the same chains Matt was in last night.
Gumm gets a large, drool filled grin on his face. His eyes roll around as he giggles. “Oh, she is feisty.”
Aubrey has his hands on his head. The look of anguish on his face tells me I’m doomed.
“She does have a mouth on her,” Denny says. “I thought making her a bearer would prevent us from having any kind of scene out here today. Some people have no respect for tradition.”
There is some agreement from those who live in the tents. Dirks cheers the loudest.