living_history (living_history) wrote in the_colony, @ 2011-01-13 20:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | ^ week 33, bridget mackenzie, ~ series: traders |
Week 33 - Wednesday
Characters: Bridget and Orin
Location: Trader campsite, then Orin’s camper.
Summary: Bridget and Orin find each other at the trader camp, but Bridget wants to learn more about him this time rather than picking up where they left off.
Rating: PG
Bridget had to force herself to lay down to rest after lunch that afternoon, knowing Evie and her band of traders were on their way to Grant’s Pass. It had been hard to sleep as she was anxious to see them again, one in particular. Even if Orin wasn’t with them anymore, they’d be the first new faces she’d seen in more than three months, close to six not counting Greg, Abby, Nate and Louisa May.
Eventually though, she’d managed to doze off and get a catnap in, lulled to sleep by the sound of the rain on the roof. When she woke to the noise of people setting up camp off in the distance, a glance out the window revealed that the travelers had arrived. It took her a considerable amount of time to dress these days, between fatigue and the sheer bulk of her belly, but eventually she stepped outside the farmhouse door and slowly began to make her way toward the campsite to see what there was to see.
The traders were nearly finished setting up their temporary home by the looks of it, and were constructing a fire in the fire pit they’d dug out. An older man had a large wire rack and was standing off to the side, probably waiting until it was finished to set up some sort of cooking surface to work from. Once the logs were set aflame there was a collective cheer, and everyone moved at once to help the older man start setting up the cooking station.
One of the doors to the short RVs suddenly opened and closed, and there he was: Orin, looking just as roguish as she remembered, his shoulder-length hair pulled out of his face. He turned on his way toward the house, but upon seeing Bridget he stopped in his tracks and grinned at her.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
Bridget stopped as well, one hand automatically going to the small of her back while the other rested on top of her stomach. “I could say the same about you, stranger.” She grinned like an idiot as she looked him up and down. “You’re tan.”
“Yep,” he said simply, striding right up to her. His own eyes did a brief inventory, though he didn’t linger on any one place long; he seemed much more interested in her face. “You’re just as beautiful as I remembered. Maybe even more than.”
“It’s the pheromones making you say that, but thanks just the same.” Bridget’s grin had shrunk to a warm smile now that she’d had a chance to really look at him. He was just as much of a charmer as she remembered.
She started on toward the fire-pit and the chairs that had been put up already beneath the high, angled tarp, confident that he’d follow since she had a pretty good idea where he’d been headed when he’d spotted her. “How have you been? Where have you all gone over the winter?”
“Mexico,” came the cheerful answer. Orin didn’t sit, opting instead to stand nearby her with his hands pushed into the pockets of his jacket. “We got lucky and managed to grab up quite a lot of goods that won’t be easy to find up here anymore. Dehydrated a ton of fruit. We’re set for a good long while, by Evie’s standards. The novelty alone will give us a good bargaining angle.”
“Novelty?” Bridget felt slightly jealous at the idea of being down in Mexico for the winter, but the travelling lifestyle Evie’s people had developed wasn’t for her. She sank down ungracefully onto a camp chair with a sigh, glad to get back off her feet again. “It hasn’t been that long since everyone could go into supermarket and get whatever they wanted.”
“It’ll happen again,” he replied, his voice optimistic. “You’ll see. But enough about me and mine.” He licked his lips, opened his mouth to say something but then thought the better of it, going in a different direction: “How’s Oregon been treating you?”
“We haven’t been attacked here, so that’s good.” Bridget responded. “It turned out Jared had been a spy for some gang all along, they killed Luc and practically cleaned us out. We left Vegas the next day to come up here.” She looked over to gage his reaction to the news. He looked moderately surprised.
“We’d heard a bit about the place being a wreck from that one guy,” he said slowly, his brow knit in a frown. “But he hadn’t told us the whole story. Wow.”
“Leo didn’t know the whole story.” Bridget shrugged. “He left a few days before it happened, I guess he changed his mind but by the time he got back we were gone. He found us around Christmas, along with Greg, Nate and Abby. Greg’s kind of strange, had been a medieval combat instructor before everything went to hell and I’m not sure he’s all there if you know what I mean, but he’s a good guy. He saved Nate and Abby from some religious wackos up near Eugene, Tom will probably tell Evie about them so you guys can avoid them when you leave.”
Once again Orin’s face pinched in a frown. Without even a bit of hesitancy or reservation, he pulled one hand free from his pocket and slid it to rest on her shoulder. “I’m glad that you’re okay at least. Seems like the lot of ya have had a rough year.”
Bridget nodded. “It’s been tough since the plague really.” She said thoughtfully, one hand coming to rest on top of his. “At least until we got up here, for me anyway. I’ve had all the food I can eat, which is a lot these days.” A pat on the stomach for emphasis with her other hand and she looked toward the fire. “The others have taken good care of me, made sure I ate and got plenty of rest. We have a doctor again as well, which was a big relief for everybody.”
“Yeah, I overheard,” Orin replied. He slid his hand out from beneath hers, but only so he could shift behind her and settle both hands on her shoulders. Wordlessly he began to knead the muscles beneath. “We got ourselves a new guy as well, actually. Met him on our way up. He’s a midwife.”
“A midwife?” A male midwife? That caused Bridget to crane her neck to try to tilt her head back enough to get a look at Orin. “That’s an odd profession for a man, isn’t it?” What she really wanted to ask was: what is he, gay? Not that his sexual orientation truly mattered as to a person’s profession, but why in the world would a man want to be a midwife?
Orin helped ease the strain by leaning better into her field of vision, arching his brows slightly at the implication in her tone. “He’s New Agey. Knows quite a lot about herbal remedies too, matter of fact. Nevermind that he plays the violin. I think Evie wouldda picked him up even if he wasn’t a midwife, just for that.”
“Huh.” Bridget chewed on that for a few minutes. “I’m sure Louisa May will want to talk to him about the herbal remedies for when the drugs run out.” She wondered why she was talking about all this when she was sure Tom would be going over it with Evie either tonight or tomorrow.
Maybe because she didn’t want to think about what she really wanted to ask. “So, do you give massages to all the girls you meet?” She asked, covering the intent of the question in a teasing smile. Orin chuckled warmly, his head moving back again as he put a little more strength into his grip.
“Nah,” he said quietly. “Just the ones I like.”
“Yeah?” Bridget felt a little flutter that had nothing to do with babies for a change. She couldn’t say she loved Orin, but the attraction was definitely there and he was a genuine nice guy with the body of a hunk. A girl could do worse, and she could easily see the attraction bloom.
“But if it’s bothering you, I’ll stop,” he teased, a grin in his voice.
“Did I say it was bothering me?” Bridget shot back, her voice equally amused.
“Just makin’ sure,” he countered, pushing her hair away from her neck and pressing a light kiss just behind her ear. “Didn’t know if I was still on the Good Boy list or not.”
Considering his only real competition in terms of people who’d shown interest in her was a sixteen year old boy, he was pretty safe on the list. Not that she necessarily wanted him to know how safe he was. “Hmmm...” she rolled her head at his ministrations, feeling good. If a little exposed out in public like this. “I suppose with hands like those I can keep you on the list.”
“Fantastic,” came his pleased reply. He continued for a few moments in silence before speaking again, his voice suddenly close to her ear. “Y’know, I don’t think I ever showed you my digs last time you came through.”
“Oh?” She opened her eyes again and peered up at him. “Would I fit through the door?”
“Oh hush, you,” he quipped, giving her earlobe a quick little kiss. “‘Course you would fit. If balding middle-aged golfers with beer guts can get into RVs, I think you’ll manage just fine.”
“Oh, an RV,” she teased. “You didn’t tell me you had a palace. I thought you had a camper shell on top of your pickup or something.”
“We’ve got some of those, yeah,” he answered, “But not me. I mean, mine does fit on the back of a pickup, but it’s legit.” He paused a beat, leaning over her again and grinning. “Wanna see?”
“I suppose.” Bridget decided after a moment, then looked at him a bit more seriously. “As long as all we’re doing is going to look at your digs and maybe a massage. I’m not as...flexible...as I was six months ago.” She didn’t really want to be so direct, but felt it best to get that out front.
Orin’s hands stilled as he moved out to her side again, crouching so that he was level with her. Some of the humor had drained out of his eyes, but they were still warm and affectionate.
“I’m not just out to get into your pants, hon,” he said carefully. A hint of a smile pulled at the left side of his mouth. “Not that there aren’t ways to do so without making you uncomfortable, but that’s not the final goal. But all the same, I’m not about to assume anything.”
Bridget relaxed, though she felt bad for having to make him spell it out. “I just didn’t want any misunderstandings or confusion.” She responded quietly, a small smile breaking back out on her face. “I do want to get to know you again Orin, maybe a little better this time if your people are sticking around more than a day or two.”
“We’ll take it slow then,” he replied, moving one hand up to push her hair behind her ear and let his hand linger near her cheek. “I don’t know all the deets yet, but Evie and Noah were talking about trying to haggle for some growing space on your property, so if all goes well we’ll be here for at least a month.”
“That would be good.” She murmured quietly, reaching up to cover his hand with hers. Part of her felt she was being disloyal to Jake by being so friendly with Orin. She’d already cheated once with him.
But was it really cheating when your spouse was dead? If Jake were still alive he’d have found her long before now.
“Let’s see your camper, Orin.”
****
It wasn’t as though they had very far to travel, but it felt good getting out of the cold. March was proving just as chilly as February, and it looked like winter was still trying to get in its last hurrah before fading away until next year.
Altogether there were nine vehicles in the caravan: the large campervan, four campertops of varying sizes and styles set atop of 4x4 trucks, two trucks without toppers, another truck with an animal trailer hitched to the back, and finally a detached trailer hitched to the a fourth truck, which Orin had lead them to. The truck bed had a tarp over it, hiding bulky large shapes which undoubtedly contained many of the goods they’d scavenged in Mexico for trade.
It looked rather small from the outside, but it was clear upon entry that it was much roomier than it seemed. Orin had made the trailer his own, the proof of which was plastered, dangling, or tacked to every available surface. The bed at the far end of the trailer closest to the back of the truck remained unmade, with several large pillows pushed up against the back that gave it more of the look of a sofa; only the blankets and bedroom pillow pushed into the far corner gave it away.
Orin had let her in first and hung back behind her, shutting the door gently and smiling widely.
“What d’you think?”
Two years ago Bridget would have turned her nose up at the idea of being involved with someone who lived in a trailer. She was a college educated professional, and wanted someone with equal or better prospects than her own. But that was then, and now the young woman stepped into the trailer as if it were something from a different world.
It only took two steps to advance into the center of the trailer, and Bridget paused afterward to survey the interior. A lot could be said about a person by looking at their home, and since the trailer served as Orin’s home she wanted to get a good look at it. For a rolling bachelor pad the place was fairly neat, with the only real hint of messiness being the unmade bed.
What was jarring to her eyes was the electric light, something that had been used sparingly in her group since their departure from Las Vegas. She was used to a world lit only by fire anymore, though hopefully with the addition of solar panels and other changes they’d have more access to electricity in the near future.
“It looks nice. Bigger than I thought it would be.”
Orin seemed pleased by her answer, his smile lengthening as he sidled up next to her. “Feel free to sit.”
Bridget nodded absently as she moved a few more steps into the trailer. One look at the booth told her that there was no way her current bulk would fit in the space between the edge of the table and the back of the seat, so she moved to sit on the edge of the bed instead. A picture tacked to the wall attracted her attention and she leaned toward it. A slightly younger Orin stood surrounded by four women, women who had to be his sisters judging from the strong family resemblance. They looked happy, smiling for the camera.
Orin reached into the cabinet above the sink for a glass, filling it at the tap. A quick look over his shoulder put a smile on his face.
“Left to right,” he intoned as he crouched down to the refrigerator, “is Sarah, Amy, Crystal, and Lorena. It was Lori’s graduation party.”
Bridget glanced over toward him, then back to the photo. “I had a twin sister, Calleigh, and four brothers: David, Alex, Jon, and Mike. What did Lori study?” The girl looked old enough for it to be a college graduation rather than high school.
“Botany,” he answered with just a hint of pride in his voice. He brought the glass of water and a small ziplock container over to her that contained what appeared to be dried mango slices, balancing them on either of his knees. “She ended up working in a wildlife refuge in Costa Rica.”
Bridget picked out a slice of mango and plopped it in her mouth, eyes closed momentarily in pleasure at the taste. “I’d forgotten how good mango could taste. It’s been months since we’ve had fruit that didn’t come from a can.” The trip to the orchard in Las Vegas had been their last instance where they’d had fresh fruit.
Orin grinned. “Have as much as you like. I’ve had more mangos in the past two months than I have in two years; I’m solid. So you had four brothers, huh? Were they all older?”
Bridget shook her head mid-bite. She followed the bit of mango down with a sip of water before answering his question: “Dave and Alex were older, then Calleigh and me, then Jon and Mike. Dave was going to take over the farm from Daddy in a few years, so he helped out there. The rest of us had to find something else to do with ourselves after high school, though Mike was still in school...” her voice trailed off and she shrugged.
Orin was familiar with the gesture, and was quick to move his hand to rest on her shoulder. Everyone coped with their loss at different speeds.
“I was the youngest,” he said with a nod. “Youngest and the only boy.”
“Where did you grow up?” She asked, nibbling on another mango slice.
“Terre Haute, Indiana,” he answered, his arm slipping down around her hip. “I didn’t stay very long, though. I did a lot of traveling once I got my first ride. Usually came home for the summer, but I wanted to see everything. I ended up becoming a photographer.”
“We grew up outside of Phillipsburg, out in central Pennsylvania.” Bridget shared, letting one hand wrap around his waist and the other rest on her swollen middle, finished with the mango for the moment. “I left for college and never moved back, I was all but dissertation in U.S. History and teaching at Penn State.” The hand that rested on her stomach moved up and toyed with the chain that held her rings. I miss you, Jake. But I’ve got to live in the now, not the past.
“What sort of photography did you do?” She shifted her head a little to watch his expression, curious.
“Anything that paid well, honestly,” he answered with a small laugh. “I mostly did freelance. Newspapers, chambers of commerce, whoever needed a few good shots and had money to spare. It wasn’t exactly lucrative work, but it paid for the essentials until I made the pilgrimage home.”
Bridget nodded. It spoke well of him that he was close to his family that he’d return home every summer. “If you were such a wanderer before, then traveling around with Evie and her people must not be that different.”
“Well I got a better ride and nicer digs this time around,” Orin said with a grin. “Most of the time I did temp-stays and occasionally overnights at a hostel. Nice people, but it feels good to have something that’s mine.” He gave a light sigh and his smile dimmed a little. “Almost wished I’d gotten more into painting now, though. I can’t really go scrounging for film to use. I can fudge a developer with instant coffee and powdered vitamin C so long as I have fixer fluid, but that’s hard as hell to find, too.” He chuckled. “Evie’s not exactly fond of frivolous searches, and I can’t go makin’ a dark room. I’ve got a digital, but no way to print stuff at this point. Maybe someday.”
Bridget squeezed his hand. “I’m sure someday you’ll find what you need. The chemicals won’t go anywhere, and I doubt many other people are going to be after them either. What’s it like, traveling with Evie?”
“Oh, she’s great,” Orin said, grinning again. “Real cool. Were like a family, all of us. There’s squabbles sometimes, everybody does, but we know how to break up the tension and laugh at ourselves. And the drum circles are amazing.” He got a bit quiet and pensive. “I was never really all that religious before everything happened, y’know? Still not, really. But the drum circles... it’s like all our hearts sync up and the world joins in. It makes me feel alive.”
“Hmmm,” Bridget responded, contemplating his words. Evie’s people sounded more put together than her group, but they’d become a family of sorts too. Tom was the patriarch, juggling the various needs and issues of the group and, occasionally, bashing heads together when tempers flared. She reached out and snagged another mango slice, pondering what to ask next as she ate.
His hand slid up from her hip to rub her shoulders again. “But it’s not an easy kind of life, I can say that for sure. It was easier to move around in the world before. Now there’s all kinds of obstacles and shit, even just driving. Road obstructions, dead animals, the occasionally unkind local interested more in stealing than trading.”
“I could see things being hard on the road.” Bridget agreed after a moment’s pause. Never knowing if you were going to run into people who would trade with you or try to kill you, traveling through all number of places but never being able to call any of them home. Yes, she could easily see how life on the road would have difficulties. “Have you run into a lot of groups since leaving Vegas?”
“Not a lot of established ones, no,” he replied, his hand going still. “We know of at least four. Two out east, you guys, and one up north. Only others we’ve run into are little bands of four or five; nothing that big.” He half-smiled at her. “How’s this gettin’ to know me, though? You fixing to start traveling yourself or something?”
“I’m a news junkie.” Bridget confessed. “Or I was. You people are the first bit of the outside world we’ve seen in six months. Besides, understanding what your life is like is getting to know you too.”
She looked over at him. “Anything you want to know about me that I haven’t already blabbed?”
He gave a one-shoulder shrug, squeezing her shoulder lightly before moving his hand back to her hip again. “I’m more of a learn-as-you-go situational sort of guy mostly. If it’s important, you’ll tell me when I need to know it.” He risked a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’m happy with what I know so far.”
Bridget just stared at him. “Four sisters or not, how are you still single?”
That brought a hearty laugh. “That a trick question?” he inquired, grinning just a bit.
“Maybe?” Bridget hadn’t really thought of it until then, but it seemed as good a time as any. “All this time on the road with Evie and the other women of the group and you haven’t settled down with any of them? I don’t get it.”
Some of the good humor drained out just a little, but he still seemed mostly relaxed. “I’ve been with women, but most of the women on the road in the world before weren’t exactly looking to settle down straight away. Not with someone like me. I was the kinda guy that always made a great story later. And Evie...” He visibly swallowed, pursing his lips for a moment before speaking.
“I’ve slept with Evie. With her, it was always a case of letting off a little excess energy. Y’know, taking physical comforts. She doesn’t want anything more than a lover from anyone, and besides I don’t really love her in that way. And the other ladies?” He ticked them off on the fingers of his unoccupied hand: “Amelia is old enough to be my mom, Nevaeh’s a little too young, and Whit’s mostly a lesbian.”
“I see.” Well, she’d asked hadn’t she? Bridget wasn’t quite sure what she felt about his response and looked down toward the floor. It wasn’t as if they had some sort of commitment, anyway. “Thanks for being honest with me. Aside from the one time with you, there hasn’t been anyone else since...” she shrugged and patted her stomach, “since I was with my husband.”
She raised her head and turned it back toward Orin. “I don’t think he’ll be showing up in my life again.”
Orin’s brow knit in sympathy, a hint of apprehension in his features at her initial response. It was obvious he was having trouble formulating the right thing to say to both statements. Bridget reached over and patted his hand.
“I’ve accepted he’s not coming back, Orin. I loved him. He was a good man, but if he were still alive he’d have found us long before this.” It didn’t mean she had stopped mourning his loss, part of her probably would continue to do so until the day she died, but she needed to move on with her life.
Orin nodded to show he understood, turning his hand up beneath hers and threading their fingers together. “I’m sure he would have. You’re a wonderful woman, Bridget; he’d have been a fool to let you slip away by choice.”
Bridget blushed at the words and squeezed his hand, but said nothing at first. “What makes you think that? I know you think I’m beautiful, you’ve made that clear enough, but what else?”
“I watched you before, in Vegas,” he explained. “You were kind to everyone you spoke to, and you laughed and smiled. People don’t have to be outwardly happy, but you are. Considering the world now, that says a lot about you. And you’re smart; I know that now, after what you’ve said about your going to school.” He ran his thumb over the back of her hand. “And from the sound of it, you had an incredible, fulfilling life.” His eyes moved up to hers from where they had been resting on their joined hands. “Does that answer your question?”
“You caught me on a good day I guess.” She smiled a little. “My emotions were all over the place back then, still can be at times.” A pause as she looked for the right words to say. “I guess I could bemoan my fate. I lost my family, my friends, and my husband. I traveled all the way across the country to a place I really didn’t want to go to, and then my husband knocks me up with twins just before he dies. I have a right to be bitter and sulk, and sometimes I do. But what good does that do? It just drags everyone down and that doesn’t help anyone.”
“And that’s what makes you wonderful,” he said, pulling his hand free from hers to touch her cheek. “And strong. You’re so strong, Bridget. Most people would buckle under all that, and you still manage. I’m in awe of you.”
“I don’t see what’s so awesome,” Bridget blushed furiously at the praise, but didn’t pull away from his touch. “If I hadn’t run into everyone here when I arrived in Vegas I might have eaten a bullet. I had run out of hope and thought I had nothing to live for. Meeting them gave me hope we could survive this.”
She shook her head. “I don’t see how you can do what you and yours do: going around the continent, seeing the remains of civilization all around you and hardly ever running into another living soul. I certainly couldn’t do it.”
He gave her a small smile, sweeping her hair out of her face before letting his hand drop down to her forearm again. “It’s humbling, no doubt about it. We’ve learned to depend on each other, but really... it’s just another way to live.”
“I suppose so,” Bridget allowed after a moment’s thought. “I’ve done enough traveling in my life though, unless the group suddenly got a wild hair and decided to relocate to Pennsylvania I think I’ll be staying put here. One cross country trip is enough for this woman.”
Orin’s brows rose slightly, his smile going sad. “Once you’ve left, you can’t really go home again, you know? I haven’t been back to Terre Haute since my last time. I don’t think I could, honestly.” His eyes moved to the photo of himself and his sisters, and for a moment there was real, clear mourning in his eyes.
“I keep the good parts with me, though,” he said quickly, snapping out of it with a brighter smile. “That’s the only thing anyone can really do anymore. Take what you can and make it the best it can be.”
Bridget squeezed his hand in sympathy. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do here. Collecting what knowledge I can and keeping it safe from the elements. With a bit of luck maybe it’ll still be around when there’s enough people to do something with it.”