#  #  #

If it had just been the first day of school, I don’t think I would have received a talking to. Instead, because I worked nights, I drove my daughter to school each morning. She had been in kindergarten and I didn’t want her on a bus with kids in first, second and especially not third grade. I knew the innocence wouldn’t last forever, and school was one of the first places to pick away at the sheltered wall her mother and I had built, but I was going to hold on to what I could for as long as possible.

We’d leave the house a little early, hit McDonald’s for a couple of hash brown orders and juice, and get to school just ahead of the buses. We’d park in the visitor’s lot, and wait for kids to get off the buses. She didn’t like to be first and I didn’t want to leave her alone in a classroom waiting for her friends, so hanging out until the buses arrived was fine with me. Then I’d carry her through the front doors.

She would talk my ear off the entire time. Usually the conversation revolved around cartoons, toys, or wanting to get a dog and why she’d be an amazing pet owner. How she’d take care of it, feed it, walk it, and wash it.

We’d smile and wave to staff as we entered the school.

On this particular day, Charlene’s teacher met me at the door to the classroom. “Good morning, Mr. McKinney.”

“Ms. Wingfield,” I’d said.

“Can I have a word with you?”

I set Charlene down, gave her a kiss and a hug, and a little encouragement to go into her class. I waved to her as she finally crossed the threshold. “What’s going on?” I said.

“I think it is time you stop carrying your daughter all over school.”

I’d cocked my head to the side. “I’m sorry?”

“You daughter needs to walk to her class. At this point, I don’t even think you should be walking her to class. You should say your goodbyes at the main door. She needs to begin developing some independence. You carrying her everywhere prohibits that from happening.”

I had to search her face for a smile, certain it had been a joke. When there was no trace of anything humorous in the grim expression she wore, I almost lost it. I wanted to go off on her, ask her who the fuck she thought she was. Charlene wasn’t always going to want me carrying her, so while she did, I sure as shit was going to. Was as easy as that.

“I’ve talked about this with your wife,” she said.

Talking about it with my wife, did little--no, did shit--to influence my thoughts. I may have noticed when I spoke I was a little louder than I intended to get. “She carry her down to class, too?”

“No, Mr. McKinney, she does not.”

“So she agrees with you?” I said. My hands were in my coat pockets. This was a good thing. I think if Ms. Wingfield saw my fingers roll into fists, the confrontation might have gone from bad to handcuffs fast. “Nah, I get it. I see what the two of you want. We’ll see how it goes. Can’t promise anything.”

“She needs to learn, Mr. McKinney. The question is, are you carrying her to class each morning because she wants you to, or because you want to?”

I clucked my tongue. “You know what, Ms. Wingfield? You have a great day,” I said, turned and walked away, back down the hall, toward the front-center of the school. Something needed punching. I just had to keep my cool until I was off school property.

By the time I reached my car, started it, and left the parking lot, I realized something I fought to admit.

Charlene needed to start walking to her classroom on her own. She did not need me carrying her to the door. The other kids in class would catch on, and make fun of her. She’d be remembered as the girl who had her daddy carrying her everywhere. Wasn’t as terrible as the kid who was bound to shit his pants in class, but I didn’t want my kid having to wear any labels.

#  #  #

“We’ve talked it over,” Andy said. He stood with both his hands in front of his stomach. His fingers twirled around one another, and it seemed to take a large amount of control not to make eye contact with any of us.

“Talked what over?” Gene said, and took a step toward Andy.

Behind Andy were Megan, Michelle, Robert and Kia. Like Andy, not a one made eye contact. “We’re not going.”

“You don’t have to,” Melissa said. “The six of us are going to get the bus. You wait here.”

“You guys can get some of the supplies together. Food in boxes, some of the medical stuff from the nurse’s office. Meet us by the back bay door,” Gene said.

“No.” Andy shook his head from side to side. “You’re not understanding me, us. You’re not understanding us, we’re not going with you on the bus. We don’t want to go to Mexico,” he said.

“No offense, Mr. McKinney,” Robert said.

I held up my hands. “None taken.”

“This is ridiculous,” Gene said. “We’ve been together since the start. We’re a family. I don’t want us to split up. We need to stay together.”

“Then stay with us,” Kia said. “There’s no reason to make a dangerous journey across town to pick up your bus, and then travel in it across the country just to cross a border. We have no proof Mexico is any better off than America. None.”

“It was just something I heard,” I said. I didn’t feel defensive. These people had as valid a point, if not more, than my notion to cross into Mexico. “Only thing I keep thinking is that we need to keep moving. Staying in one place seems more dangerous, but that’s just me. My thoughts. Mexico might be a million times worse off than the U.S. But it is something, you know? It’s forcing us to do something.”

Kia nodded. “I know and I respect your thinking, Chase; your decision. But it is not mine. I think it isn’t that bad here. I’m staying at the school. Everything we need is here. Everything.”

“Those supplies will run out,” Melissa said.

“And I’ll worry about that when it actually happens,” Kia said. “We have the weapons that you had in the trunk of your car, and they’ll--we can keep those weapons, Melissa, Gene? Can’t we? You’re not taking back all of those weapons?”

Everyone tensed. I saw hands tighten on rifles.

“They’re yours. Everything here, it’s yours. The bus is stocked. Prepped. We’re not taking anything from you. I wouldn’t do that. But, Andy, you’re sure?” Gene said. “I am not comfortable leaving you. I’m really not.”

Andy looked at the people behind him. They each cast a silent ballot with a slight nod. “We are,” Andy said. “We’re going to be okay.”

“I don’t like it,” Gene said to Melissa, like they might be the only two in the room.

I understood the man’s sense of feeling torn. “Gene, I think you guys should all talk. It’s something we can discuss in the morning. I would never want to be the one to come between you and your family. The road is going to be very dangerous. At some point, we may have to leave your bus because of things blocking the way. This is not going to be an easy journey.”

Not an easy and maybe not even a smart journey. This school wasn’t so bad. It did have everything, and was close enough to surrounding woods that eventually hunting for food and other supplies might not be as deadly a task as it was currently. Maybe we all needed a night to think things over.

Gene nodded, wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “You’re a good man, Chase. And I agree with you. I do. It’s very late. We should get some sleep, and in the morning, we can talk more. That sound alright?”

“Yes,” I said. “Sounds fine.”

“We’ve set the gym up like a mini-hotel. We pulled cots from the nurse’s office, and gym mats to use as beds, and separated the gym with play props for borders,” Melissa said, and smiled. “It’s not so bad.”

“I’m sure it’s not,” Allison said.

“Andy has sentry duty. Walks the halls, keeps an eye on things. It’s a one level school, but it’s spread out over a lot of land. We take turns doing this each night, using a rotation. Everyone has a turn,” Gene said.