Silver Gardens

Neighbors

"THINGS LIKE THIS HAVE HAPPENED ALL THROUGHOUT HUMAN HISTORY," Mr. Choi ranted as he unpacked a box of canned corn. "Ancient Rome? When it fell, there were pockets all over Europe of people like us. Regular folks just trying to get by. Survive. Same old song. Nothing to be upset about."

"But what he's not mentioning are the Dark Ages that followed. The Black Death. Witch hunts..." Mr. Arnold muttered as he put the cans neatly away in the cabinet under their sink.

Mr. Choi and Mr. Arnold had taken up residence in one of the RVs still in good condition. Bicycles bearing training wheels leaned against the chicken wire fence out front and a plastic swing set was molding green in the backyard. It was the home where I had done the dishes and put them away, as though I had been expecting the older couple.

"How old are you again, Ben?" Mr. Choi turned to him.

"25."

"And your... wife?"

Ben and I exchanged an uncomfortable glance. I smoothed out my white cotton dress, the nicest thing I owned. I'd pilfered it from the closet next door.

"I'm not-"

"She's not-"

We attempted to explain ourselves simultaneously. It had been just the two of us for so long. The need to label ourselves to others had never been an issue.

"They aren't married, Richard," Mr. Arnold droned. "Don't you know by now that this generation doesn't get married, even if they can legally, even if it's the end of the world."

"So how old are you, Miss..." Mr. Choi turned to me, studying my countenance to make a silent estimate.

"Annabeth Kidd."

"You look awful young, Annabeth."

"20."

"That's young," Mr. Arnold muttered.

"That is young. But 25 and 20 isn't too big of a spread. I was 19 when I met this guy. We were in the army. Fought in Vietnam together. And he was 28. Hasn't left my side since. Some men are just like that. Mate for life."

"Stop it, Richard. You're making them uncomfortable," Mr. Arnold chided. "Perhaps this is just a relationship of convenience."

It was like it would never end. All the questions and opinions that would have come from my deceased mother and grandmother were being channeled through our new neighbors in our Post-Apocalyptic trailer park. Ben scratched the back of his head, ruffling his curls, still damp from his shower.

"So how long have you two been... together?" Mr. Choi chose to ignore his partner of forty years.

Ben cleared his throat, his mouth twitching in an obliging, pained smile. I had never realized how little he liked being the center of attention. It would never have occurred to me. "Three months."

Both men stopped, eyebrows raised.

"A lot has happened in the last three months," Mr. Arnold commented.

"Yes, a lot has," I repeated with a shrug, turning to another box of supplies. "Can I help you with these?"

Mr. Choi swatted my hands away. "Oh no. You look too nice to be put to work. Can't tell you how long it's been since I saw a young lady in a sundress. So how did you two meet?"

"... on... the road," I answered, casting a quick glance in Ben's direction where he leaned against the counter, smirking with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You met on the road three months ago?" Mr. Arnold nodded. "Well. Who are we to judge? We fell in love in the middle of a war. I suppose this is no different."