We Are Unprepared by Meg Little Reilly

Author:Meg Little Reilly
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MIRA
Published: 2016-08-29T04:00:00+00:00

SIXTEEN

“AND THEN, I swear to God, the guy pops up out of the back of a monster truck!” I took a gulp of Scotch through my laughter and slammed the glass down dramatically.

I was sitting at Peg’s kitchen table around five, the day after the incident at the high school, drinking my third glass of Scotch and laughing harder than I had in many months. We had gone to visit one of the holdouts on our flood plan earlier that night, which was entirely unproductive. The wife refused to let us in the house and the husband threatened to get his shotgun, so we had no choice but to leave. Instead, we went back to Peg’s house for deer jerky and drinks, which was just fine with me. I still had no idea what I was contributing to the operation and dreaded the confrontations with the homeowners. Peg’s patience was running low, too. I didn’t know her well, but she seemed sadder and more detached than the Peg I had met a few months before. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was a change.

As soon as I sat down at her kitchen table, I launched into a detailed description of the entire scene that had unfolded at the high school with Rodney Riggins. She listened with rapt attention, laughing and nodding along at all the right parts.

“These are exceptional times in Isole,” she said when I was through. “Such histrionics are not common around here. I think everyone’s on edge.”

Peg looked out the open window as she said this, toward the naked oak branches. It was February 1, but in my whole life I’d never seen a February that looked like this. The snow had all melted and the flooding was mostly dried up. The silence of winter was still there, but the temperature reached fifty-two that day. The most reliable seasonal identifiers had abandoned us. It was a lull between the last storm and the next one.

“This Riggins guy is bad news,” I said.

Peg waved a hand to dismiss him. “Oh, I think he’ll be gone before The Storm is over. I’m sure there are more profitable places for him to move on to.”

I hoped she was right.

“And what about you, Ash? Do you have a god for when the reckoning comes?”

I thought for a moment. “No, not really. I grew up going to church on Christmas, and sometimes Easter, but that was it. I never really had religion, so it wasn’t something I ever missed. But I guess I believe in God, whatever that means. You?”

“Well, I’m a Catholic, technically,” Peg said in an exaggerated Irish brogue.

“Technically?”

“Yes, technically. But my spirituality is more complicated than that; it goes back further in history.”

Peg looked out the window and paused. She might have been a little drunk, too. She went on, “The earth, the trees, the fae...”

I couldn’t tell how serious she was. “Is this an Irish thing?” I joked.

“Yes, kind of,” she said, unoffended.

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