little.”
D.J. looked at Red, who said, “I’ll eat anything. Especially after weeks of canned soup and granola bars.”
“Will you all wash your hands, then? The washroom is through there.”
The three of them trooped to the bathroom. Sam and Riley took their turns and then ran back to the kitchen to watch D.J. cook. Red really did cry when she got her chance to use the toilet. She never realized how much she appreciated running water and indoor plumbing.
She took a little extra time washing up, because now that she was indoors and out of the open air she could smell her own body odor and it was not pleasant. She hated to impose more on D.J.’s hospitality but she wondered if he would let her wash her hair and give Sam and Riley baths.
By the time Red was back in the kitchen the process was well under way. Riley shadowed D.J. as he prepared all the elements of the mixed-rice dish. Sam sat at the table with her chin resting on her hands. There was an expression on her face that Red couldn’t quite interpret. She slid into the chair next to Sam’s.
“Everything all right?” Red asked, but quietly so the other two wouldn’t hear.
“He used to do this to Mom,” Sam said. “He’d follow her around the kitchen and ask a million questions and help as much as he could. Mom used to say he was going to be a chef someday.”
Red didn’t say anything, because she knew that Sam wasn’t just mourning for their lost mother but for their lost life, for a life that would never exist in the same form again. Even if someone found a cure for the Cough and the electricity came back on and some form of order was restored, things still wouldn’t be the same as they were before.
Soon they were all sitting around the table digging into bowls of rice and meat and vegetables. Red wasn’t sure she actually tasted any of it, because as soon as the first bite hit her tongue she realized just how hungry she was. It was the same for Riley and Sam, who shoveled food into their mouths like they’d never seen food before.
Luckily, D.J. didn’t seem to notice their appalling manners. He just kept refilling their bowls until they all sat back with their hands over their stomachs, groaning.
“That was sooooo good,” Riley said.
“The best meal I’ve ever had,” Red agreed.
D.J. looked pleased, and waved away their offers to help clean up.
“Perhaps you’d like to use the bathtub while you’re here?” D.J. said. It had the air of a delicate suggestion, and Red thought he would probably open the kitchen window as soon as they left the room.
“Good idea,” Red agreed.
“You can wash your clothes as well,” D.J. said, glancing at his watch. “Although it might be best to wait until the next patrol has passed through. The washing machine is a little noisy, and I’d rather not attract their attention.”
Red still had a lot of questions about these patrols, and how D.J. had managed to evade their notice. But the offer of a bath was too good to pass up.
Red knew from her babysitting experience that eight-year-old boys didn’t do the best job in the world washing themselves even when they didn’t have weeks of grime caked onto their skin. Despite Riley’s loud protests of “Privacy! Privacy!” she went into the bathroom with him once the tub was full.
“For crying out loud, Riley, I don’t care about your private parts,” Red said. “I care that your hair has bugs in it.”
“Really?” Riley asked. He didn’t look disgusted, only curious. “Bugs?”
“Who can tell under all this dirt?” Red said, pouring a very generous amount of shampoo into her hand. “You could have potato plants growing in there for all we know.”
It took three good washes for Red to get Riley’s hair in roughly acceptable condition. At least he didn’t smell like a dog that had rolled in a garbage heap anymore.
Sam was less particular about Red’s presence and seemed to welcome the offer of assistance