The Mistress of Putridity

I wish I had a gun.

Everyone else seemed to have one. I suppose my survival technique was 'hide', but the others, few as they are, were always looking.

"Come on, Sweetheart. Let's rest in here." My precious ten-year-old daughter Blaire was getting sicker by the hour. I distracted myself from the horror, pulling the makings of a pallet from my pack, and laid them on the cool red sandstone floor of the slip canyon.

If it rained and washed us away, so be it. Surely that would be better than what was coming.

Blaire coughed, wheezing in her next breath, bringing me back into the red, yellow, and orange striated cathedral.

She is too sick. I've seen it before. Too many times. Too many dead. First their loved ones and now mine.

I pulled her into my lap, using my fingertips to push the sweat-soaked bangs off of her scalding forehead.

"You just rest now, Love." I rocked and hummed and murmured until she went limp in my embrace, but I didn't let her go or stop rocking her. It was to be the last time I held her. This would be the last time I ever saw her. "I'm sorry, Baby. I'm sorry for everything...for everybody. I am so sorry."

I fiddled the little silver heart-shaped locket from her still and bloated neck. I could see the picture inside without opening it. She had on a red checkered dress that looked for all the world like an Italian tablecloth. Her dimples, deep. Her smile, huge. Sparkling blue eyes laughing at the gull I was feeding. We looked so much alike. We had anyway.

I twisted a small strand of her blonde hair around my finger and cut it away. I placed it in the locket then wrapped her up in a makeshift shroud.

"I am so sorry Blaire." My whisper echoed off the walls. "You can keep the blanket. I will find another. I will always love you. You will always be with me. Always."

I put her locket on and headed south without looking back or shedding a tear.

The Sea of Cortez. Finally.

I cried walking to Mexico. I think it had been ten weeks since I left Blaire hidden in that desert canyon. Time meant nothing. Only survival mattered and I wasn't quite sure why it meant anything anymore.

I had done everything I could to stay to the wilderness and Indian reservations, skirting the Grand Canyon to the north. The Mistress of Putridity had taken the Indians forever away where two and a half centuries of American subjugation and abuse had not. Yeah, I cried. I cried for them and Blaire and the dead ones I saw. The only people I saw were dead. I heard some speaking softly once, but I hadn't seen them. Maybe they weren't there at all, I don't know. I hid and slept and cried and awoke alone.

Now that I was at the sea, it was time to find a sailboat. And a gun. And anything else that would help me survive at sea. I had seeds and could collect more...

"Please help me."

Fuck. I crouched down.

"Please."

It was a young female's voice, disembodied and floating on the sea breeze. I said nothing, scanning the area from my position behind a creosote bush. A loud groan came from a concrete culvert, the muted echo emitting from each end.

"Fuck." I drew my knife and crawled slowly over to the opening. A young woman had wedged herself into the pipe, her swollen belly touching all sides of it. "Fuck. Are you sick?"

"No, but I don't know about this baby. The father is dead. The Mistress took him. Are you? Sick?"

"No. Are there others here?"

"Not that I've seen. I've been here about a month. Oh God."

She groaned, throwing her head back in an apparent attempt to get away from the pains of labor.

"You can't stay in there. Come on." I put my hands in her armpits and hauled her out. "Is there a house nearby? You're sure there is nobody?"

"There's nobody. Well, a bunch of dead nobodies. I can't go into that house. It's putrid. It's just over that rise," she said pointing east.

I busied myself laying out a pallet and then helping her onto it. "My name is Roberta. What's yours?"

"Rebecka. I don't think I can do this Roberta."

"I'm going to go get some water. You can do it Rebecka. What's the alternative? I'll hurry."

And hurry I did. The girl was right; the house smelled awful, but most did. I soaked some clean linens from a hall closet, filled three large plastic containers with the same cool water, made a papoose from the linen, filled it, and sprinted back to where I had left Rebecka.

"Alright. Can I look at you? I can tell how close you are if I can look at you," I said laying the makeshift package down.

"Are you a nurse?"

"I used to be back when...never mind. Can I see?" She nodded and I looked under her skirt. "OK. Not long now. The daddy was a redhead?"

Her short burst of laughter hit me squarely in the chest. It was musical and keen and a sound I hadn't heard in a very long time. I sorted and folded the wet linens until my eyes stopped stinging then I turned back to her.

"I am going to touch you down here Rebecka, just to try to move your skin back away from the baby's head. It will come faster that way. When I tell you to, I want you to push with all of your might. Groaning is ok but not screaming. You can't push and scream at the same time. Clear?"

"I can't tell you how happy I am that it is you that came. Maybe there is a God after all. Agh. I need to push."

"OK. Let's see what is attached to those red curls. Push!"

The sailboat I had found was a nice one and I was ever so thankful there wasn't dead aboard. I likely would have thrown them over and taken it anyway. It had a water maker and a heavy self-steering windvane. She was a bit large for the two of us to handle but we will make it work. Anabelle was 6 months old now and a little butterball. She was immune to the Mistress, or she would be dead by now I suppose.

Thank the Gods!

We had named our boat R an R in a nod to all of our names and had spent the last months sailing slowly south in the Sea of Cortez. Rebecka was picking up the finer points of sailing. There was no way they could cross the pacific if she weren't up to snuff.

It seemed like the whole of Mexico's population had died. They hadn't seen a soul in all of these months. I know there must be some living but not here. This east coast of the Sea of Cortez was sparsely populated even when there was a population. 'Sparsely' didn't begin the describe it now.

I looked over at Rebecka and Anabelle and smiled. They always make me smile.

"You know? I used to say, 'if I had a gay bone in my body, I would be with a woman.' Now look at me."

"Well, it isn't quite like that now, is it?" She winked, laughing, and quickly changed the subject. "The tomato plants have blooms on them, and the herb garden is glorious. Do you think we can have a chicken or three aboard when cross to Hawaii?"

God! I love to hear that woman laugh.

"Are you getting tired of fish, Becka? Eggs would be nice to have though. Yeah, we should take some chickens with us. We can add their poop to our compost. Homesteading at sea! Who woulda thunk it?"

"Not me, but I like it! So, I've been studying the charts of this area. It looks like there are farmlands a little further south on the mainland side. Surely, they had chickens. And who knows what veggies we might find. Do you think we will be alone in Hawaii too, Roberta?"

"I don't think we are alone now, it's just the world got a whole lot bigger when the Mistress swept over it. I really don't want to press our luck by going back into cartel country. We've got our guns and ammo. Let's not get greedy. How much further south are the farmlands?"

"A hundred miles maybe? It's still Sinaloa, but there are no cities. Just farms. We can gather seeds and chickens, but I really don't want to meet anyone. Farmer or a gun-toting cartel member, nope. How the hell do you catch a chicken anyway?"

She smiled and mussed Anabelle's curls when I laughed at her.

"Feed it? Hell, I don't know. Maybe they are still tame? Maybe if we find some, we will find nests and we can hatch the eggs aboard!" But my enthusiasm didn't catch.

"You're dreaming again, Woman. I don't know nothin' about birthing no chickens!"

"Yeah. Me either. We'll catch a few then. Are you going to be ready to pull up anchor after you feed Anabelle?"

"Yep. Let's do this thing!"

Anabelle was toddling around below decks under Rebecka's watchful eyes when I spotted what had to be the Big Island rising above the sea.

"Land ho!"

"Really? Is it Hawaii? How you trust me to navigate across three thousand miles is beyond me! But I did it? Where's land?"

Her brown curls blew around her face when she popped up the companionway. I brushed them out of her green eyes and pointed straight down the bow, my chin on her shoulder.

"See? I think that is Mauna Loa. There are anchorages and a couple of marinas on the other side of the island. The side we are looking at has high seas and cliffs. Not a friendly place to anchor."

"I really did it!" Rebecka swayed her hips in a little dance.

"Momma did it! Bert did it! Ana see?"

"Yes, you did. Yes, we all did!"

Becka brought Anabelle into the cockpit, but she wasn't at all interested in the far-off smudge.

"Let's do our victory dance Anabelle. Ready?" I took her hand and then Becka's and we danced a joyful jig around the binnacle causing the penned chickens to squawk and beat their wings in protest.

"Oh, Roberta! I will be happy to put my feet and these birds on solid ground. Anabelle is likely to fall over trying to walk on the ground, she is so used to walking on our moving vessel." Turning thoughtful, she added, "We can leave if we don't like it, right?"

"We can. New Zealand is another three thousand miles that way." I hooked my thumb over my left shoulder. "I am hoping we will find a person or two with the aloha spirit here although the VHF radio has been silent since I turned it on in Mexico. But, yes, we can leave if you want to Becka. Let's see what we find. If the truth be known, I am a bit apprehensive too. This last eight months has been some of the best in my life. I'm not eager to jeopardize that even if it means never seeing another living soul for the rest of my life."

"Aww! You love me! Did you ever find that gay bone in your body? I could look if you like..."

She poked an elbow in my ribs while still holding Anabelle's hand. She looked like she meant it. I wanted her to mean it. I wanted her to find that bone.

"Ooph, Girlfriend. You are going to hurt me. Weren't you going to fix lunch? I will if you'd rather take the helm..."

"As you wish, Captain. Come on Ana, Bert wants fish tacos, don't ya Bert?"

"I do! What are we going to do when we run out of flour? I'm going to miss your tortillas. Damn the bad luck."

The next morning we approached a deserted anchorage and dropped the hook, having decided to hike over to the marina to see if anyone was home. We all showered in the cockpit, dried in the sun, and were now munching on canned fruit.

"I'll bet we won't have to ever eat canned fruit again unless we can it ourselves. I can see a mango tree from here. Are we taking the chickens to shore?"

"Chickens stink Momma!"

"Yes they do, Darlin. What do you think Bert?"

"I think we need to take something for them to roost in or Lord knows where they will end up. Let's put them in the head for now and cut down that cage for a more manageable dinghy ride, then we can cover it with some branches once we get it ashore. Ready?"

"I can't say that I am. I'm scared Bertie."

I felt the blood drain from my face. She looked scared. Anabelle's sweet little face was looking from me to her momma. I could see she was trying to work out if she should be scared too.

"OK, let's do this. We all take the chickens and the roost to shore, set them up then you and Ana can come back here while I sneak over to the marina. One can be sneakier than three. What do you think of that idea?"

Becka chewed on her lip while looking at me with clear peridot eyes. I can see she doesn't like either choice and I think, 'Maybe we just pull anchor and sail on, eat fish forever,' knowing it isn't something we can really choose. She finally answered.

"I will come get you when I see you coming back."

I watched her building tears spill over and slide down her cheeks.

"Damn it, Becka. Come here." Fuck. Who knew tears had bones in them?

It had been three days since I had hugged my little family goodbye. As soon as the tattooed men had grabbed me, I started screaming orders in my mind for Becka to sail away without me.

You can do it, Becka. Sail far away from here. Take Anabelle and GET OUT! Do it NOW!

Over and over I implored her to take R an R and get away from here. But I could see her in my mind's eye. She wasn't leaving. Even the rapes didn't shake the image from my mind. She wasn't leaving.

Oh, God. She isn't leaving. This is my imagination. I can't see her. Maybe she's gone. Maybe she heard me. Please God, let her hear me!

"How many are there and where are they?"

My eyes slid closed, if in relief or dread, I wasn't sure. Both probably. "Where is Ana? There are four. They sleep in that stone hut about thirty yards from the back of this cell. They are big Becka. You have to take Ana and get far away from here. Please. Just go." I whispered, still not seeing her.

"I'll go. Anabelle is safe. I'll be right back."

I strained my eyes, trying to see through the predawn night, but I couldn't see much at all. I certainly couldn't see Becka. I jumped when she spoke again. I could see the barest of outlines now.

"Count to one hundred and then start screaming like you are being attacked. Clear?"

I could hear myself in those words. "Becka? Is that the AK? Fuck. I want you to get back to the boat and sail on. It isn't safe here. Please go. Please."

"Start counting. We will go in a minute."

I started counting. And shaking. Then I started screaming. "What are you doing here? Leave me alone! Oh God! Leave me alone. Stop! You are hurting me! STOP! What are you DOING?" It seemed like it took five minutes of screaming before I heard my captors scramble from the hut. I'm certain it wasn't that long. It couldn't have been. The rapid gunfire most certainly didn't last that long, nor the accompanying cries. And then four short bursts of gunfire and the world was again silent.

The lock rattled at the door. A sound I had come to loath. Not this time. We were in each other's arms crying before either of us thought another thought.

"Stupid men! They survive the Putridity Bitch and then force me to shoot them? What the FUCK! Oh my God! Are you ok?"

"I think so. We have to get out of here. Where is Ana?"

"Dismantling the boat I imagine. Come on. It is getting light. We should be back aboard before she gets too upset. Don't look at me like that! I turned the propane off and left snacks and bottles all over the cabin. I couldn't think of what else to do Bertie. This isn't a trip she needed to come on."

"It isn't a trip you needed to come on..." I started to say but she cut me off.

"Shut up. I saved you. Get over it. Let's go."

As we walked back, she filled in the blank spots, like how she found me.

"No, I couldn't see you from the boat, but I can dern sure track, now can't I?"

"Who knew tracking the animals you used to hunt could lead you to me? Hey! Where is the chicken roost?"

"I knew, and it's back on the deck. We are showing this place our stern and pronto."

"I'm not sure that's necessary. Those dead guys talked about trekking far over the past year, both up and down the coast and into the interior. They had seen no one else to hear them tell it." She stood stock-still, just looking at me.

"And you think you can trust that?"

"They were talking to each other, not to me. All they wanted was a way to restart a colony..." I trailed off. I didn't want to answer her questions, but I saw the information click into place. Her top lip thinned to almost invisible, exposing her teeth.

"Come on. Let's go home. We can talk about it more later."

That sounds more a threat than an invitation to conversation. Christ!

It was a long and silent row back to the boat. Although when they got to within fifteen feet of the R an R, I could hear our daughter talking happily to herself. I let my head fall into my hands and sobbed.

Our cabin was secluded far up in the hills, with the azure sea the barest of a glimpse from the kitchen window. There was a gravity catchment system for rain that provided all the water we needed, and I had taken the composting toilet out of R an R and installed it here. And our garden was something so productive we were canning the extra. This was undoubtedly paradise. There were still things to do. There were solar panels to collect and batteries to find. How we were going to get them up here was a whole different question and one for another time.

Rufus, the huge red and black dog that had adopted us, came in and pushed his nose against my burgeoning belly.

"How's that baby doing in there Rufus? Any word on the sex?"

"Did you say sex?"

Rebecka was leaning against the front door jamb looking as if she wanted to throw me onto the nearest surface and have her way with me. She chose a zucchini from her basket and waved it, cocking an eyebrow at me.

"Oh! Ewe, Becka! Honestly! You know I prefer summer squash." I turned my back on her and listened to her laugh. It never got old.

"You know?" she said, "Those dead guys may have gotten their wish. If the baby is a boy, he and Ana will be of zero relation. Presto! Colony started!"

"Someone will find us one day, you know? Then a colony will start. We need to find Rufus a mate. I want all the barking creatures I can get. Maybe it is less crazy out there by now. I don't know. I really doubt it. I will feel better once they passed the Rufus smell test. If they ever come."

"Momma! Bertie! Look! A lizzoid!"

Anabelle came running in from the garden clutching the poor creature and then burst into wails of grief when Rufus snatched it from her grubby hand and swallowed it.

"Oh damn it, Rufus! Outside you brute! Get! Come here, Sweetpea. There now." I stroked her shiny red curls until she quieted. "Now then. Let's wash your hands and make a cake."

"A cake? What's a cake?"

Becka and I exchanged what must have been twin looks. Right. Our children won't know what a TV is, or a radio, or a zillion other things.

"It's a yummy thing to eat. How many eggs did you find today? We need three. This many." I held up three fingers.

She held up five fingers and said, "Three."

"Alrighty then! Momma, will you play us a song on that guitar while we cook?"

"Sure I will. It is about time to go on another scavenger hunt," she said while retrieving it. "I want to find some sheet music and a student guitar or ukulele for Ana."

"Alright. Maybe we can find a girlfriend for Rufus too. Come on Anabelle. Let's make a cake!"

We found Nana the following day after hiking for three hours. She was baking some bread, the luscious smell drawing us into her ramshackle home. Really we were chasing Rufus, who went barking and bounding straight for the smell. Or maybe it was Nana's laughter that drew us to her. They were both delightful and she shared them freely after we got the strange introductions out of the way. There was no need to explain the rifles we carried, she had one as well. It was more along the lines of; Are you sick? Do you know of anyone else? Where did you come from?

"I don't know why that old Putrid Hag left me here and took everyone else. I've been ready to go meet Kane, He is the father of all living creatures child," she whispered to Anabelle, "for a long time now. He isn't ready for me. You said you've been walking for the whole morning? What are you searching for?"

We ate bread with real butter and talked for hours. Nana knew where there might be some children's instruments and she also knew where they could find a bank of solar panels.

"You will need to catch one of the horses over near the coast by the taro plantations to haul those to your house. That will take several trips I would bet. When are you due, Bertie?"

"In four months." I saw her wheels turning. It didn't take a math whiz to know the Mistress had done her worst almost a year ago. "I was, uhm, assaulted. Becka made sure they didn't assault anyone ever again."

"They? Good girl! So, they were survivors. I hope that means the babe will have immunity then. Were you frightened for Anabelle, Becka? I can't imagine the fear!"

"I was. We both were, Bertie and I. Ana only has one immune parent. It still frightens me. You know it still has to be here, laying in wait. The old Hag hiding and growing stronger."

"Perhaps the Earth will regain her strength now that those who were destroying her have mostly all gone. The Mistress and Ku laid us low. Oh, bless me. You all must stay the night. Go on over to the Nelson's place, two ridges over and collect what you like. I will have dinner ready when you get back."

And she did have a wonderful chicken dinner ready when we came back into her clearing, this time in tow of Rufus's skinny, leggy girlfriend.

"Ko Aloha Makamae E Ipo. You come back soon! I may send this goat back with you next time. There is no way I can keep up milking her."

"We will bring you some veggies next week Nana. Aloha!" And then I burst into tears. If it was pregnancy hormones or just finding another loving soul in this empty world, I didn't know. It was the first time I had cried since walking to Mexico. I suppose it was about more than hormones.

When we came up to Nana's house the following week, she was waiting on the front porch.

"I heard those dogs a'coming fifteen minutes ago. You caught a horse! Look at you up there Anabelle!"

Her little house looked different, not as lived in somehow. "Is everything alright, Nana?" I asked feeling quite nervous.

"I wanted to talk to you girls about something. Could you stand to have an old woman around your place? I wouldn't have to take much with me. It's just that I didn't realize how lonesome I was until last week..." Her words trailed off.

Both Becka and I burst out laughing. Becka pointed at me and said, "I told you fixing up the study as a bedroom was a good idea!"

"I wasn't sure how I was going to ask you Nana. Becka was sure you would want to join us but we also considered looking for a bigger house. Would you rather do that?"

"No Child. Maybe after the babe is born we can think about it again. Right now I would just like to be nearer to you. We are family now. Can we be family now?"

It took two weeks of back and forth trips to get Nana's belongings and animals to our house. After that, she watched Ana while Becka and I hauled solar panels and batteries from the coast. We never saw any current sign of people. And we were happy for a time.

Nana taught us all about Hawaiian culture, myths, and the Gods and Goddesses. She taught me how to hula with my pregnant belly with Anabelle dancing right along with me. She taught us so much. Little Kimo was brought into the world by Nana, and she taught him the fierceness of a Hawaiian warrior.

Those years are the most vivid for me. Full of love, and puppies, and dance, and songs, and hard work, and renewal.

Kimo and Anabelle stayed at the house when I took Becka and Nana to the coast for the last time.

"Kimo? Please take care of Blaire's locket. Give it to your child someday."

"Bertie? You are coming back, right?"

My son wrapped me into his massive arms, pulling my face into his chest. I could only muster a nod.

"You sure you won't come? Ana? You? I know you've said your goodbyes last week but one last sail? Your Momma would like that."

Both of them nodded, agreeing that she would have but declined. I guess they knew I wanted to say my own private goodbye to my love. I hugged them both and reminded them how very much their Momma, Nana, and Bertie loved them. Then I left.

We had cremated Rebecka seven days ago. It had been eight years since we had cremated Nana. Both of them would join Namaka, the water Goddess, in all of her glory. I would have to come to the shore to visit see their beauty again.

I took the small day sailor out, it was easier to handle now that it was just me. Becka and I had had some great days on this boat. "Hadn't we, Hun?" I asked, patting the clay urn. "I can't tell you how much I am going to miss you. More than all the other billions of people who went before you. More than that."

I threw the leis that Kimo, Ana, and I had made into the ocean, watching them float in my wake. "I don't know how to do this Becka." Tears were washing down my cheeks, but I wasn't crying. My eyes were just overflowing. I opened Becka's urn and put some of her ashes in a tiny silver box she had given me. I touched my fingers to my tongue as a final goodbye, tasting the last of her. "A hui hou, my love. Until we meet again." I then let her go to Namaka.

"Ku’ia kahele aka na’au ha’aha’a," I said for Nana. "A humble person walks carefully so as not to hurt others. Truer words were never spoken about you, Nana. I love you always. Go rest with Namaka."

I don't remember much about the Mistress of Putridity now. She had taken much from me but gave me more than she ever took. And she gave life back to Mother Earth. We are but a small and insignificant colony now. We don't want what humans used to want. We only want peace and love. And we have that. And I am thankful. As Nana taught us, `A`ohe loa i ka hana a ke aloha – (Distance is ignored by love.)