The Things We Bury - Part 2: No Big Apocalypse [Completed]

Chapter 10: Ain't No Sunshine (Part 6 of 6)

The morning was humid and warm like the inside of a body. The heat was growing as the rose in the sky. It was the type that smothered, curled around her limbs, pressed close against her face, soaked into her lungs. With the smell of the river ever present beneath the stench of baking garbage and the sweetness of blooming magnolias, Amy could almost imagine herself underwater.

Water.

It was becoming the enemy. In a book she once read, a girl is in the woods fleeing a werewolf. The wolf turns out to be her true love, but that only happens much later in the story. In the beginning, he's just one more danger she has to escape from on her way to reclaim her father's kingdom. The girl is overjoyed when she comes to a river and wades across it because she had heard the werewolves cannot cross water.

Amy had no problems crossing it-how many bridges had she driven over in her journey-but perhaps there was a kernel of truth hidden in the story. Water had a way of confusing her senses by drowning out millions of other smells and sounds. It had been that way at the marina in Galveston and it was like that now. The twists and turns in the Mississippi had her hopelessly lost. She had no idea what direction she was walking in anymore. Her destination had never been anything more than somewhere away from here, but Amy couldn't tell if she was walking in circles or if she could find her way back to the motel, if she wanted to.

The thought of returning snuck up on her. It creeped in while she wasn't looking and began a disloyal campaign to undermine her courage. The world around her began to feel too big. Her chances of survival in it, too small. Amy had nothing but the clothes on her back. She regretted choosing not to take any of the cash Emily had stashed in the bureau drawer.

In the moment when she decided to leave, she didn't want anything to do with the money. There was something wrong with it. She sensed it as soon as Emily dumped it out on the bedspread to count. It carried a putrid smell. She had heard the expression dirty money before and this was it. Each bill was soaked in sweat and alcohol and God only knew what else.

"Where did you get that?" Amy had asked. It was impossible to hide her disgust.

"If you don't want to know," Emily answered. "Don't ask."

Amy didn't want to know, but she couldn't help from wondering. What had Emily done all night dressed like a girl out of a music video? It nagged at her. It was unsettling. That wasn't how people earned money.

But how did people do it? The usual way was with a job. Her mom and dad had jobs. "We work hard to put this roof over your head," she had heard more than once. But she didn't think Emily had gotten a job.

In her books, characters rarely worked. Or they did a job and everything was taken care of. They'd complain it was a rough day at the office or a boring one at the coffee shop and then never mention it again. But usually in her books, the characters were students or adventurers. Sometimes both. They never had to work.

How had Emily gone out and came back hours later with a pile of cash? Amy wished she knew how. She was getting hungry and money would make that problem go away. However Emily had done it, it wasn't easy like in her books.

Emily was just as putrid as the bills when she got back to the room. She'd sweated through her clothes and the smell of strangers and smoke clung to her. After she finished counting it all and putting it in a stack with the money she had gotten the night before, Emily said, "One more night should do it, then we'll get you to that boat." She stuffed the money under some dirty clothes in a drawer and walked past Amy.

"Where are you going?"

"To take a shower."

At least she recognized how much she smelled. "Good. You need it," Amy said.