is—then he’s not this guardian, father, punisher, the Bible-thumping idiots have created. God doesn’t make things happen. God creates and then walks away. Otherwise, if I believe God can hear prayers, then why doesn’t he answer them? If God is everything the zealots think he is, then he sits on his throne and passes judgment, decides who deserves help… saving, and who doesn’t. And it’s all arbitrary because assholes get everything they want and nice guys finish last and they always have. He tests us? What the fuck is up with that? If that’s the way God really is then fuck’em. And if fate guides our destiny then why do we even bother to get up in the morning? Won’t the same thing happen whether we get up or lie in bed and do nothing?”
I finished dressing quickly and stomped out.
See I told you I didn’t want to have that freaking conversation.
I was taking care of the animals when I realized Lucy hadn’t followed me, no doubt because she had to get dressed or she was just that pissed off by my little speech. Here’s the thing with me, don’t ask the question unless you’re ready to hear the answer.
Billy came out and just started helping me, his brother was probably still in bed. Jimmy would rather sleep than eat or get laid. He was lazy. On top of every other flaw that boy had, he was so damn lazy he thought rolling over was a work out.
“Thanks, Mom. Cherry says she wouldn’t have made it if it hadn’t been for you,” Billy said. He pulled a couple of books of hay out and stuffed them into the goat feeders. “She said she can’t wait till we can come and get her.”
“Yeah,” is all I say because I know it’s a bad idea to go get a couple of more people, and I just seemed to be working really hard at doing all of the things I’d so carefully told everyone else not to do in this situation for years.
Being a nice guy sucks. And yeah I know I’m a chick but in my head I’m a guy, alright? Not a man trapped in a woman’s body, not a man at all, but a guy .
“So… you get a little last night?” Billy asked, grinning like a shit-eating dog.
“No I didn’t. The girl had a boyfriend. She’s straight. Now you or your stupid brother…”
“Mom!” Billy held up his hand and made a face like I’d told him to kiss a pig. “She’s really old.”
“Old?”
“Yeah she’s as old as you are.” He made that face again.
“Oh she is not, she’s maybe thirty-five,” I said. I was forty-five at the time. “And thanks a whole fucking lot. Old! Why don’t you do me a big favor and go check the power in the batteries and if it’s dropped below half crank up the methane generator?” He nodded and, chuckling, went off to do my bidding. I was blissfully alone for all of three whole seconds and then there was Lucy. I could tell because when she walked in the barn the billy goat bleated, telling me that he had decided that she was one of his girls. She guessed I was in the milk room and of course couldn’t get in without letting Spot in and I wasn’t done milking Harriet so there was a little goat scuffle, but no spilt milk.
“Sorry,” she said. I was thinking that she needed to be smarter than the goats to handle them, but I didn’t say it just shrugged and kept milking.
“So what is this insurance you were talking about?” she asked.
I was so glad she didn’t want to talk about God and fate and shit like that, that I gladly answered. “One of them is filled with toilet paper…”
“Yet you’re making us wipe with four sheets.”
“I’ll tell you what. When you build a bunker and I crash on you just before the apocalypse you can make all the rules. Until then I make them, you got that?”
She nodded, looking dully chastised.
“Listen, I don’t mind hard work, and I don’t mind roughing it or doing without certain comfort items, but I want to wipe my ass with something I can throw away. Now you’re thinking that’s a hell of a lot of ass wipe out there,
I finished dressing quickly and stomped out.
See I told you I didn’t want to have that freaking conversation.
I was taking care of the animals when I realized Lucy hadn’t followed me, no doubt because she had to get dressed or she was just that pissed off by my little speech. Here’s the thing with me, don’t ask the question unless you’re ready to hear the answer.
Billy came out and just started helping me, his brother was probably still in bed. Jimmy would rather sleep than eat or get laid. He was lazy. On top of every other flaw that boy had, he was so damn lazy he thought rolling over was a work out.
“Thanks, Mom. Cherry says she wouldn’t have made it if it hadn’t been for you,” Billy said. He pulled a couple of books of hay out and stuffed them into the goat feeders. “She said she can’t wait till we can come and get her.”
“Yeah,” is all I say because I know it’s a bad idea to go get a couple of more people, and I just seemed to be working really hard at doing all of the things I’d so carefully told everyone else not to do in this situation for years.
Being a nice guy sucks. And yeah I know I’m a chick but in my head I’m a guy, alright? Not a man trapped in a woman’s body, not a man at all, but a guy .
“So… you get a little last night?” Billy asked, grinning like a shit-eating dog.
“No I didn’t. The girl had a boyfriend. She’s straight. Now you or your stupid brother…”
“Mom!” Billy held up his hand and made a face like I’d told him to kiss a pig. “She’s really old.”
“Old?”
“Yeah she’s as old as you are.” He made that face again.
“Oh she is not, she’s maybe thirty-five,” I said. I was forty-five at the time. “And thanks a whole fucking lot. Old! Why don’t you do me a big favor and go check the power in the batteries and if it’s dropped below half crank up the methane generator?” He nodded and, chuckling, went off to do my bidding. I was blissfully alone for all of three whole seconds and then there was Lucy. I could tell because when she walked in the barn the billy goat bleated, telling me that he had decided that she was one of his girls. She guessed I was in the milk room and of course couldn’t get in without letting Spot in and I wasn’t done milking Harriet so there was a little goat scuffle, but no spilt milk.
“Sorry,” she said. I was thinking that she needed to be smarter than the goats to handle them, but I didn’t say it just shrugged and kept milking.
“So what is this insurance you were talking about?” she asked.
I was so glad she didn’t want to talk about God and fate and shit like that, that I gladly answered. “One of them is filled with toilet paper…”
“Yet you’re making us wipe with four sheets.”
“I’ll tell you what. When you build a bunker and I crash on you just before the apocalypse you can make all the rules. Until then I make them, you got that?”
She nodded, looking dully chastised.
“Listen, I don’t mind hard work, and I don’t mind roughing it or doing without certain comfort items, but I want to wipe my ass with something I can throw away. Now you’re thinking that’s a hell of a lot of ass wipe out there,
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