Seeking Eden

  The convenience store yielded several dusty bottles of water from one of the cases along the back. Elanna scooped up the packs of gum, the sticks as hard as concrete until she softened them in her mouth for several seconds. The flavor was brief but intense. She propped open the doors to the restrooms while Tobin scouted inside, but the paper on the rolls was mouse-eaten and worthless. The soap had congealed into sludge.

  The magazine racks were full, and Tobin packed a few to use for starting fires. Behind the counter Elanna found a few packs of matches that to her delight still lit.

  The first house in the row had no front door. Or rather, the front door had fallen off its hinges and was now half-hidden in the brown grass by the front stoop. The stoop itself was made of concrete and had weathered the years well. In the living room, furniture still sat grouped around the television set, though the screen on the set had shattered.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” Tobin asked her as she followed him inside. “It’s like nothing’s been touched, in all these years. It’s like a time capsule.”

  “I wouldn’t say nothing’s been touched,” Elanna said, pointing to a tuft of stuffing that had sprung from a hole chewed in one arm of the sofa.

  She looked around the room, at the furniture, the rugs, the pictures on the walls. People had lived here once. They’d married and had children here, maybe even died here. She felt melancholy.

  “Are you all right?”

  She smiled. “Yeah. Just thinking about how different life was when people lived here. How different it all used to be.”

  Tobin moved behind her and hugged her. She leaned into his embrace, grateful for it. They rocked together for a moment before she moved away, determined not to let herself feel sad for things she couldn’t change.

  “I’ve never seen a house like this. I feel so naïve. I’ve never seen so many things.”

  He laughed. “And you, the big city girl. I lived my whole life on an island!”

  “But you saw houses. You saw the way people really lived. You lived the way people really lived.”

  “You had hot water for baths and toilets that flushed,” Tobin countered. “You had candy!”

  She shook her head. “Not any more. Let’s check out the kitchen.”

  Everything seemed so small compared to the Tribe’s kitchen. A stove with only four burners. A table with only four chairs. Cabinets that had only three or four shelves, not ten or twelve.

  “Not much left in here,” Tobin said, peering in one of the cabinets. “Let’s get the lanterns out.”

  “I hope we can find some new batteries,” Elanna said as she lit the lanterns. “These are almost finished.”

  Tobin pulled open a drawer, loosing a flood of paper and pencils. “Junk drawer.”

  “What?” She wasn’t sure she’d heard him right.

  “Junk drawer,” he said again. “Old Ma used to say that every kitchen needed one. We might find some good stuff in here.”

  A flashlight and some more matches. Some heavy twine. A few tiny, skinny candles in pastel colors that Elanna couldn’t begin to imagine a use for. As Tobin emptied the drawer, she sifted through its contents, laid out on the kitchen table. Rubber bands, most crumbling with age. Some keys.

  “No batteries,” Tobin said. “Let’s check if there’s any food!”

  The pantry, a small closet just off the kitchen, proved to be a treasure trove. Cans lined the dusty wire shelves, and plastic wrapped containers of flour, rice and beans were stacked on the floor. Jars and bottles, some cracked and empty, also filled the shelves.

  “Someone liked to stock up,” Tobin said. He touched a few of the cans. “Some of this stuff might still be good.”

  Elanna’s stomach rumbled, and she clutched it, groaning. “Baruch Ha-Shem for that. I’m starving.”

  “You have to keep up your strength,” Tobin told her, tossing a can at her.

  She caught it and checked the label. Potted meat. She knew without searching that she wouldn’t find the tiny symbol that marked it kosher. She tossed it back at him. “Sorry. This won’t do.”

  Tobin laughed. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

  He must think she was kidding. She edged past him and began checking the other labels. “No, I guess not. But I can’t eat that.”

  She picked up a can of corn, but the label had none of the symbols she recognized. No OU, no circle k. She scanned the ingredients to be certain the can contained no meat, which would render even the vegetables treif. “This one’s ok.”

  He was staring. “You’re serious?”

  “Of course I am.” She picked up another can. Pork and beans. She shuddered. “This definitely won’t do.”

  He took the can from her and studied it. “What’s wrong with this one?”

  “Tobin,” she said, realizing this was another of those areas she took for granted and he didn’t know. “There’s pig in there.”

  “So? You guys ate rats.”

  “I don’t eat pig,” she said flatly. “The Tribe made some compensations over the years, but that isn’t one of them.”

  He looked completely confused. She tried again.

  “Certain foods are forbidden,” she said, and took the can of pork and beans away from him, setting it far back on the shelf. “Pig. Shellfish. Not that we actually ever saw either of those, of course, except in canned goods.”

  “But…but why?”

  “Because Adonai said don’t eat it,” she said.

  Tobin gestured around the pantry. “Elanna, with all respect, do you think we have much choice?”

  She picked up a can of green beans, and pointed to the tiny letter “u” encircled on it. “As long as we have things like this, we have a choice.”

  “Okay,” he said with a sigh, and she could tell he still didn’t understand. “I’ll find something else.”

  There proved to be plenty. They found the pump over the sink to be rusty but workable, and though the water that gushed from it was dirty red at first, it cleared up nicely. The oven’s guts had been hollowed out, leaving ample space to line the interior with wood and paper; the heat from the fire warmed the burners on top to cook the food. She and Tobin managed to put together a decent meal by the time the sun began to set. She only burned her fingers twice.

  After they’d both eaten until they thought they might burst, Elanna caught Tobin yawning. As he stretched, she watched his face in the flickering firelight. Could this be love, this overwhelming comfort that came just from watching him? She knew desire, and she knew love for her babies, but this was different.

  “It’s late,” Tobin said. “We’ve had a long day. I think we should go to sleep.”

  “In comfort tonight.” Elanna pointed to the ceiling. “Think we could look around upstairs?”

  At first he didn’t say anything, just stared at her with an intensity that made her blush. His eyes were so dark, so penetrating. She thought he might be able to see right inside her.

  “Sure.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll take the lantern. You take the candle.”

  She did, lifting the fat white candle in its holder. They’d found a box of them in one of the cabinets. It meant they’d be able to save the lantern batteries for a while longer.

  The stairs creaked beneath them but seemed to be safe. Their passage stirred up ruffles of dust and mouse droppings that crumbled under their feet. The upper hallway was dark but not long, with several rooms opening off it.

  “This looks like the bathroom,” Tobin said.

  Elanna peeked inside. A tub, a sink and a toilet. She longed for a bath suddenly. Everything about her felt soiled.

  She stepped inside the room and pulled back the curtain around the tub. The material came apart in her hands, falling into a thousand crumbling pieces. With a wince of distaste she wiped her hands and looked inside the tub. There were several bottles there, the contents glimmering in her candlelight.

  “Shampoo,” she said with a sigh. “I need a bath. You do too. Let’s see if
the pump up here works too.”

  “Those towels don’t look like they’re in very good shape,” Tobin said, tugging one. It held together.

  “Then we’ll find something else. I’m filthy!”

  “The water’s going to be cold.”

  She poked him gently. “You’ve been spoiled.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’ve probably never had a cold bath in your life. Are you sure?”

  She laughed but nodded. “It’s been a long time, true. But I need a bath, Tobin. And to brush my teeth! And to find clean clothes.”

  “That’s a pretty tall order. But I think we can manage.”

  She hugged him. “You’ll feel much better. I promise.”

  A quick search of the bathroom yielded two toothbrushes still in their original packages. Some toothpaste, still good once they squeezed out the first inch or so, and some soap. Along with the shampoo and the towels, they were set.

  “You can go first,” he told her gallantly. “You need it more than I do.”

  His words made her blush until she realized that he was teasing her. She was so relieved that he hadn’t suggested they share the bath, she couldn’t even pretend to be mad at his comment. “All right.”

  The thought of being naked in front of him had suddenly intimidated her. She’d undressed in front of hundreds of men, but somehow this would seem different. Just as everything about him was different, she thought as she wiped the dust out of the tub with one of the towels.

  The water she coaxed from the hand pump was cold, but once she got past the shivering, it felt marvelous. The soap was smooth against her skin and the shampoo left her hair gloriously soft. She combed through the tangles with a brush she found in a drawer. She wrapped herself in the towel. It was long enough to cover her to her thighs. Rapidly, Elanna soaped her other clothes in the water and wrung them out. It would have to do.

  “You done yet?” Tobin called, and she told him she was.

  “You smell so good,” he said when she opened the door.

  “You’re just saying that because of how bad I must have smelled before,” she replied.

  “No,” Tobin replied. “I was really only joking about that.”

  She held the door open for him. “Your turn. I’ll wait downstairs. I want to hang these things up by the fire.”

  He was swifter in the bath than she’d been. When he came downstairs, the towel hung low on his lean hips, her cheeks got hot again. It was so strange to feel this way about him. She’d never had to wonder before if a man she found attractive would be interested in sleeping with her.

  “Ready to check out the rooms upstairs?” he asked.

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The towel tucked around her all at once felt no more substantial than air. She clutched it and wished he’d taken longer in the bath to give her clothes time to dry.

  Tobin didn’t seem to notice her sudden shyness. Nor did he seem self-conscious about the way his towel rode so low on his hips. She followed him up the stairs, waiting for his towel to slip off entirely. What would she do then? Laugh, blush, or jump on top of him?

  Fortunately, she didn’t have to find out. He’d left the lantern at the head of the stairs, and it lit the upstairs hallway. Tobin pushed open the door on the left.

  “Not much in here.”

  Her cheeks were still warm, but she was calming down as she followed him into the room. “It’s a sewing machine. Battery run. We had them at home, for taking apart clothes the gatherers found and making new. ”

  Aside from the machine and several bookcases, the room was empty. Some bolts of material, thread and other sewing supplies took up space on the shelves. The room didn’t even have a curtain on the window.

  The next room was just as devoid of personality, though it did have more furniture. A double bed, a dresser and a chair. Some faded pictures hung on the wall, but the closet was empty. Nobody had lived in this room.

  Across the hall was the third door. It opened into the largest room. A massive bed dominated the room, but it was the bed’s contents that made her gasp and step back.

  “It’s all right,” Tobin said, holding her. “They’ve been gone a long time.”

  Two skeletons slept in the bed. Whatever clothes they’d worn had long ago rotted away, leaving only the clean bones behind. Their heads rested together on the same pillow; their hands were next to each other between them.

  “This was their room,” Elanna said. She wasn’t really frightened, just startled. Now she felt as though she were intruding. She spotted a photograph in a frame on the dresser, and knew it was of the couple in the bed. They both smiled into the camera. “They looked nice.”

  Tobin opened up the closet to show the rows of clothes inside. “I think we’ll be able to find something to fit us in here.”

  She took him by the hand and pulled him into the hallway. “Later, Tobin.”

  “But, Elanna…”

  “Later,” she said firmly, pointing him toward the other bedroom. “They’re sleeping now.”

  “They’re dead,” he told her in a tone that clearly said he hoped she knew that.

  “Obviously,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. Men could be so dull-witted. She shut the door behind them. “But this was their house. We’re guests here. Whatever we take from them will still be here in the morning.”

  Tobin shrugged. “But we could find something to wear….”

  She stopped him with a finger pressed to his lips. “Tomorrow.”

  “All right,” he said, clearly not understanding her reluctance but willing to play along. “But it seems pretty silly to me.”

  This time she stopped his words with a kiss. “Tobin. Quiet. Come to bed with me.”

  Suddenly, understanding dawned in his eyes, and he looked at the bed. His tongue snaked out to lick his lips, and the sight made her shiver, and all the more because she knew he wasn’t doing it to be seductive.

  “All right,” Tobin said, a little breathless. “Let’s go to bed.”

  −

  24-

  She knew she should take the lead. She didn’t. Tobin’s mouth against hers was achingly sweet, and when his hands left hers to wind in her hair, she caught her breath at the sensation.

  “I want…” she began, though she wasn’t quite sure what she wanted, after all.

  “Shhh.”

  He put the lantern on top of the dresser and gathered her up, moving her toward the bed and pushing her gently down. He didn’t lie on top of her, and she was glad. He was much taller and heavier, and she didn’t want to feel crushed. Instead, he moved onto the bed beside her and simply cradled her in his arms, her head tucked under his chin.

  She was thankful he no longer wore his shirt. It was one of the Tribe’s. She didn’t want anything of the Tribe on him, not now.

  His skin was smooth, his chest hairless except for the twin circles around his nipples and the thin line leading from his navel downward. The sun had browned him in the past, like it did the garden workers, and his muscles were taut and well-defined.

  “You’ve used your body before,” she said, knowing it wasn’t what she meant but hoping he’d understand.

  “Not for this,” he replied, voice thick.

  She tilted her head to look at his face. “Are you shaking?”

  He managed a smile. “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t be.”

  Then he was kissing her again, opening her lips with his. His tongue stroked hers softly, without force, and she shivered. Her fingers traced patterns on his chest and stomach, and when she reached the knot he’d tied in the towel around his waist she didn’t hesitate.

  For a moment she thought he was going to stop her. His hand pressed hers, and she let go of the knot. He sighed against her, and moved his hand away. She tugged fabric apart slowly, all at once aware that he was far more nervous than she.

  She pushed on the light material of the towel until it slid down his hips. He kissed her. T
hey leaned back on the bed, pressed against each other. She took his hand, no longer able to wait, and brought it to her breast.

  He moaned. She bit her lip to hold hers back. Tobin rubbed his fingers over her nipple, which had slipped from beneath the towel. When the cool air finally hit her bare skin, her shudder was not from the chill.

  He put his mouth on her, teasing her nipple with his tongue. She arched into the embrace, running her fingers through his hair, wanting him to take his mouth away to kiss her but never wanting him to stop. He moved with unpracticed urgency, tugging her flesh with his lips until she felt a familiar release building inside her.