Junebug • TWD

46. Who's Leaving Who.

Feels like we've been walking for a million years now. My legs are really starting to feel like jelly and my stomach is starting to get that throw-up-y feeling. We need to find something to eat real soon, or at least some water or something. I just need my stomach to feel a little bit full or I'm scared I'll pass out. 

Passing out is the least fun thing in the whole world, I think. I passed out sometimes over the winter when we were running low on food. It always made everyone worry so badly. Especially Dad. I'd wake up with my head in my dad's lap and everyone would be standing around, staring at me with those anxious looks on their faces. I bet they were all thinking about how sick I was, and maybe even feeling guilty about it, which I hate. 

But it's not my fault. It's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault.

"Daryl, we need to find some water soon or I'm gonna keel over out here," Momma complains with her hands on her hips. 

Dad and Merle have been walking a little bit ahead of us for most of the time we've spent walking, and I've been sticking by my momma's side. Sometimes she holds my hand, which makes my heart feel warm. 

"Lucky for you, Bird, the air's smellin' to me like the Sawhatchee Creek," Merle says, glancing back at me and Mom. 

Mom scrunches her nose up. "You sure? Smells normal to me."

"Nah. We didn't go west enough," Dad murmurs. He's been murmuring a whole lot more than he's been actually speaking ever since Merle's been here. I really think Uncle Merle makes him a little nervous. Dad pushes a branch and holds it out of the way for me and Mom to pass, and then he keeps walking. "There's a river down there, it's gotta be the Yellow Jacket."

"You have a stroke, boy?" Merle rolls his eyes. "We ain't never even come close to Yellow Jacket."

"We didn't go west. Just a little bit south. That's what I think," Dad disagrees. 

I really don't know who is right because I don't know which way is which. Apparently, I don't even know my right from my left, so I guess I'll have to work on that before I can learn north, south, east, and west. Anyway, I think my dad is right because he's right a lot of the time, plus I'm still annoyed at Uncle Merle. 

Merle sniffs and itches his nose as he shakes his head. "Know what I think? I may have lost my hand, but you lost your sense of direction."

"Yeah," Dad says in his sarcastic voice. "We'll see."

"What? Do you wanna bet?" Merle challenges. 

"I don't wanna bet nothin'."

"Oh, my God. Can you two quit it with the bickering?" Mom complains with a huff. 

Dad keeps going, though. "It's just a body of water. Why's everything gotta be a competition with you?"

Walking ahead of all of us, Uncle Merle holds a hand out at Dad. "Woah, woah. Take it easy, little brother," he says. My dad ain't doing nothing, though. Just saying something Merle does that bothers him, which, in my opinion, is better than keeping it to himself and letting it stew inside him till he pops. Merle, though, will never ever admit to being in the wrong. "Just tryna' have a lil' fun here. No need to get your panties all in a bundle."

I don't fully understand that phrase because how does having your underwear bundled up have anything to do with being annoyed? It really doesn't. Either way, I know what it means. It means that someone is annoyed or mad about something that isn't that big of a deal. Merle likes to think everything isn't a big deal, though. 

"You hear that?" Dad suddenly asks. He holds a hand out, stopping me and Momma from keeping on walking. That makes me really nervous at first, like I'm about to hear the echoes of a heard coming our way or something, but then, when I really listen, I hear it. A baby is crying.