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She could feel the horrible, sickening realization that had sunk into her stomach when the little toy rocket beeps had punctured the air. Soft, empty gasps that escaped from her as she turned around. Beau’s awe-stricken face seared into her mind when he had lifted the rocket towards the sky, high eyes filled with wonder. Then she could hear it. The scratchy, broken clicks as it moved towards Beau. The shuffling in the woods. The cracking of the branches, the heaviness of the trampling of the creature. The split second before he was taken burned into her vision.
She wanted to move, to yell, to cry for her youngest, her small and precious little baby, and she hated how stupid and careless she was for leaving her small Beau last and christ her hands were free . Her hands were free. She closes her eyes.
~
Evelyn awakes with a start, her forehead lined with sweat. Her hands instinctively raised to her mouth to cover a scream. A lurch travels up her throat, the acidic remains of yesterday’s dinner threatening to come out as she sat up. She pushes the thin blanket off of her, reaching for the bucket next to the bed, holding it under her chin. She rests her swollen feet on the floor. The long days of walking barefoot around the farm did that, roughing the soles of their feet. She can feel the palm of Lee’s hand slide across her shoulder blades and rest on the small of her back, gently holding her while he presses kisses to her shoulder. She sets down the bucket.
“Beau’s gone, Lee. He’s dead. My baby is dead. Beau’s dead…” She signs, her body visibly shaking, holding back tears. She clenches and unclenches her hands into fists, trying to make sense of reality. She blinks her eyes open and shut - once, twice - and stares at the vast emptiness that rolls out beyond the farmhouse, beyond the cornfields, and beyond the lights that line the edge of the fields. Past the steel bridge and the forest and the little town that rested on the edge of the woods. Lee shakes his head. His fingers move to her chin, turning her face so she looks at him.
But it was so real . She thinks. She can feel the same hairs rising on the back of her neck as the wind came with the monster and the same chill that had run down her spine.
She sobs, leaning close into the crook of his neck, her fingers grasping at the thin white fabric of his long-sleeved shirt. She needs him to give her that same, warm feeling she had before the incident, when even though hell had descended on Earth she knew they would be okay because of Lee. But in that moment she had felt so vulnerable, so useless when she stood there watching Beau almost get killed in front of her eyes.
“But what if we can’t?” Evelyn sobs, her voice is strangled, cracking as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. “What if we can’t protect them?” Tears pricking her eyes she leaned into Lee’s side, the warmth of his body calming her a bit.
“We made it this far,“ Lee chuckles gently, in hopes to make her smile. He pulls her in impossibly closer, pressing kisses to her forehead.
She smiles weakly back, nodding slowly. “Yeah,” She breathes out. She lifts a hand to cup his rough beard, running a hand over the scars and scratches littered across his cheek. “I’ll go check on them,” she signs as she leaves.
Her heart pounds as she walks towards the loft of the farmhouse, where it doubles as a kid's room and their classroom. A sense of trepidation runs through her blood, the uncertainty of if her children were even okay by themselves fogging her thoughts.
She can picture the events of the last two weeks in her head, when Marcus had been sick with the flu, or even worse. Reagan noticed it first when they had been cooking dinner one night. In the beginning, they had thought it was allergies since the dust build-up got worse and worse in the farmhouse with the cold, but when he came down with a fever that lasted three days and it didn’t seem like he was going to get better, Lee had suggested to take a risk and bring the whole family to the pharmacy, even though it would usually only be him and Reagan. The rule in place was that Beau was never allowed to leave the farmhouse territory marked by the lights until he was at least five.
Evelyn had been opposed to the idea when Lee suggested it at dinner. “Lee. You can’t be serious.” She had signed, her forehead creased with worry. Reagan and Beau sat quietly, gently pushing that day’s fish and lettuce into their mouth, unsure of what to do but keep out of the conversation. Marcus was asleep on the couch, a wet towel draped over his forehead.
“We have to. We don’t know what’s wrong with Marcus, all we know is that we don’t have the medications for him.” Lee signed as he got up in frustration, pacing around the dining room.
“Beau can’t go out. You know this, Lee. It’s dangerous for him out there. And there’s no reason for him to. Marcus can barely stand up. Take Reagan and go.” She rested her head in her hands. “I’ll stay here with the boys.” She continued signing without looking up.
Lee leaned against the kitchen counter. “No, Evelyn listen. I’ll carry Marcus there. The quicker we get him the medicine the better. And I can’t watch Reagan if I’m carrying Marcus. I need you to go too. It might take longer than a day’s walk to get to the pharmacy and back. Beau can’t stay behind by himself. So we’re all going.”
Evelyn got up, walking over to her husband. “Lee…Just.” She threw her hands up. “Beau hasn’t been beyond the lights. We don’t know how he’s going to act, or what he’s going to do, or…” She faltered a bit at the thought of something happening to Beau. The older two knew what to do, in case of an emergency. “Or the dangers of traveling as a family. And Lee, what if something happens? The kids can’t be alone. One of us has to be alive. We’ve never been beyond this farmhouse together. Someone has to stay behind.” She signed desperately, her signs getting more and more sloppy. Her eyes watered slightly.
“I know. I know, Evie. But he’s going to be fine. We’ll all be fine. Okay? Just give it a shot.” He wiped a stray tear off his wife’s cheek. “We’ll be fine, as long as we stick together.”
Evelyn’s eyes fell on her sick middle child. She knew without the proper medicine he wouldn’t get better. But was it worth the risk to take Beau out? She couldn’t argue that Lee carrying a sick Marcus with Reagan in tow would be a good idea. And if she was to go, Beau had to go too.
Finally, she nodded, and though she was worried, she trusted Lee’s instincts. Lee smiled. Her hand sought for his, gently massaging the back of his hand as she guided him back to the dinner table. “Tomorrow, we’ll head out, as a family.” A soft smile appeared on her lips.
But the incident proved otherwise. Lee had barely gotten to Beau, and really just in time, he flung the toy rocket out of his hands and into the forest. Reagan had sprung into action immediately, reaching into a side pocket of her backpack to retrieve a glass bottle, which she had picked up in the town. She flung it into the deeper parts of the wood, successfully distracting the monster.
Evelyn had felt so powerless in the moment, all she could do was stand and watch it all unfold in front of her.
When the Abbotts arrived back to their farmhouse, with Reagan leading ahead, Lee carrying Marcus in the middle, while Evelyn held a shaking Beau in her arms bringing up the rear, no one said anything about it. All Evelyn could do once she put Beau down was throw up off the side path, suppressing the noise as best she could. She didn’t do anything else for the rest of the week, resorting to shutting herself in their old house, up in Lee and her old room, her thoughts constantly plagued by the bridge incident. Reagan and Marcus took turns bringing food for her.
She would only leave at night and made a routine in slipping into Beau’s bed, all the way at the loft, holding him in her arms to confirm that he was alive and breathing right next to her. Lee would lean against the beams of the roof watching as her breath even out slowly when she knew that Beau was okay. But he knew she didn’t sleep a wink, keeping one hand on Beau’s chest, the other softly wrapped around his wrist, making sure that his heart was beating. There were times when she would have a panic attack as a result of the nightmare, and Lee would find her with her chest heaving up and down quickly, her breaths erratic.
When Lee was watching he would step in, keeping a hand on the small of her back rubbing circles, muttering over and over that she was okay under his breath until the panic attacks subsided and she fell back into her routine of keeping her eyes open and watching Beau sleep soundly next to her.
“I’ll go back soon,” she would sign to Lee, and though he knew she wouldn’t, Lee would smile gently and pull the thin covers over his wife and his youngest, before retreating to his room.
Only after ten days did Lee force her to go back to sleeping in her own bed, and the situation didn’t get much better. Evelyn did manage to sleep for a few hours, even if she often found herself waking drenched in sweat.
~
As she walks up the ladder to the loft, she can hear Reagan and Marcus and Beau laugh quietly under their makeshift tent. The wood creaks as she reaches the final rung of the ladder, and she catches glimpses of Reagan’s denim jacket, Marcus’s grey sweater, and Beau’s navy, red and white beanie. She lets out a breath she didn’t realise she had been holding. The wood paneling of the floor felt cold and foreign beneath her. She taps on the fabric of the tent to get their attention.
“Shouldn’t you all be asleep?” She signs, forcing a smile, as a few pairs of familiar eyes peek out from underneath.
“Mommy!” A pudgy hand signs as Beau walks unsteadily towards her, trying to keep his his footsteps minimal, and she feels as if a weight had been lifted off of her. She picks Beau up gently, as if he would break in any second in the slightest touch, and holds him close. Instinctively she wraps a few fingers around his wrist, affirming to herself that Beau was alive and well. The familiar scent of him calms her down immediately.
Marcus’s face lights up at the sight of her, and he taps Reagan on the arm before he can’t contain his excitement and engulfs her in a hug. “Mom! You’re okay!”
Evelyn smiles, she really smiles, and happy tears prick the edge of her eyes. She hadn’t felt so safe in ages.
Marcus stands on his tippy toes, just tall enough to whisper into his mother’s ear. He pulls her closer to him. “I’m sorry , Mom.”
Her heart breaks at the words. It wasn’t his fault, not now, not ever, it was no one’s fault. They were just unlucky. She turns to her oldest son and looks him straight in the eye. “Marcus, it wasn’t your fault. None of it. Okay?“ She can sense his fear still dwelling inside of him.
“No…But if I wasn’t sick,” He signs. “If I just got better right here in the farmhouse, and we didn’t need to go get the medicine, and if I just walked by myself when we came back Beau would never have been in danger.” He is more sure of himself than Evelyn’s ever seen.
“Stop blaming yourself,” She reaches to hold his face with her free hand, pushing his brown curls out of his eyes. “It was no one’s fault. Really. ” Marcus leans close and holds on to her tight, and she can feel him smile against her cheek.
“Hi, Mom,” Reagan signs as she emerges from the tent. She notices her mom glowing a little more than she has in the past week, standing a little taller, the old sparkle in her eyes returning. “I’m so glad you’re okay,”
“I’m so proud of you. Just like your father is.” Evelyn signs, pulling her into their hug.
Lee appears on the bottom floor of the farm house- his heart feels full from the scene in front of him. Quickly he moves up the steps of the ladder and he wraps his arms around his family, tussling his youngest’s hair through his beanie. He presses a kiss to Evelyn’s hair.
“Mommy?” The three-year-old signs, pointing towards her.
“Yes, bunny?” She beams.
“Why are you crying?” He places a soft hand on a tear that rolls down the side of her face.
“Oh, these?” She chuckles lightly, and she presses her forehead to her baby. “They’re happy tears, baby, happy tears.“ She signs, tracing her smile with a free hand.
“Happy tears?” He follows the way his mother traces her smile on his face revealing his own gummy smile.
“Yeah, sweetie.” She lets out a breath, soft enough for them to hear. “Happy tears.”