Our Future Plans For Living

I kept a close eye on Henry, watching him as he slowly swayed back and forth while sitting down.

"You should really get some sleep," HIs wife said, sitting beside him and rubbing his back.

Dad, Papa, and Jason, three of the more burly people in our group, started to look at all types of seeds that we planted in our school's greenhouse. I planted cucumbers, radishes, and sugar peas myself, and I knew for a fact that Cody planted other veggies like carrots, potatoes, and some yams. The seeds they were looking at now might've been similar, but I wasn't sure on that.

Mom, Gammie, and Connie's Mom, Mary, all were being taught about specific food groups that Gammie knew about, and how to treat various wounds from Cody's Mom all at the same time.

Now that I look back on it, the preparation made by both the husbands and wives of our group was thoroughly developed ahead of time, as if everybody knew which direction the world was heading. Nobody spent time coping with the destruction, they only made an effort to keep it alive. Maybe that's how they coped.

Cody, Connie, the rest of the kids, and I didn't know what to do, so we just sat around, waiting for something entertaining to happen. I kept an eye on Henry because he made me nervous with all of his swearing, while Cody kept an eye on our surroundings. He was usually the guard in the games we played, so I guess he was just doing something he knew he was good at.

Connie was watching Henry with me, but nowhere near as kindly or cautiously as me. Maybe it was one of her zombie shows that she watched, but she was watching him like a hawk, and with her fists clenched.

The gym was filled with the conversations of the adults and the light conversation between the two first-graders, while Cody, Connie, and I were all dead silent. WE didn't know what was going on, as we were too young to prepare with the adults, and too old to ignore it like the kids. We were in the middle ground, something we couldn't avoid.

The knocking from the zombies on the outside of the door were quiet, as if they forgot we were here. The blinds were closed, so I couldn't see their full bodies, but I saw silhouettes through the blinds and curtains, and could only see blood drop from their dead bodies as they roamed by the school.

"Leon! Cody! Connie! I would like for you guys to come be creative with us boring adults," Dad called us over, and we happily moved away from Henry and watching him to go use our minds for something productive.

"So, I'm thinking that for the time being, we should look into setting up a gate down this road, or something that can keep the zombies out. What do you think?" Dad asked Connie.

"Can we even do that on the roads? What if cars move through?" Cody asked, raising his hand as if Dad was a teacher. Dad looked down at him and thought for a moment, then came back to reality with another question for him.

"Well, is there a way for us to keep the roads open for when cars do come back through?" Dad asked him. Now, Cody was lost in thought. I could see the gears moving in his head as he tried to answer.

"What about getting a ticket because we're in a school when it's closed? Isn't trespassing bad?" I asked Dad again. I wasn't very smart, and everything was still being introduced to me as I tried to analyze the atmosphere. Dad was never the type to insult me for stupid questions, as he only answered them and tried to lead me down the path,

"I wouldn't worry too much about that. The police have a job, and it's to protect the people. If we're protecting ourselves by hiding away in this school, do you think they would care that much? And, if they do, would you be the one to get a ticket?" He asked me.

That led me to the right answer, as I shook my head and nodded, all worries leaving my mind. Dad then turned to Connie, waiting for her to answer any of his questions.

"I think we should block the roads," Connie shortly said. She was uptight, still clenching her fists, and looking down. She didn't seem confident, but she seemed serious.

"Honey, don't be so nervous. You think we should block the roads? Why do you think so?" Bob asked his daughter, crouching down to her level and lightly rubbing her back.

"Because... the zombies already walk the roads, and as long as they do, no cars will be on it, will they? What if they hit the zombies?" Connie asked. Dad understood her answer, and looked toward Papa, Bob, and Jason, and then nodded again.

"Well, how about this? For the time being, we'll leave the roads alone, in case the cops need to get to people, okay? However, that doesn't mean we won't touch them. We'll focus on putting up a fence around the school, that way the zombies can stay out and we can go outside. Then, when the time comes and we see some cops, we'll officially ask them if we can build a large wall around the road and leave a gate for passage. How does that sound?" Dad asked.

When Dad asked his question, he looked around at Bob, Jason, and Papa, but he also looked down at the kids. He wanted us to be involved, wanted us to have an opinion, wanted us to have a say. He cared about us, just as much as everybody else.

Connie, Cody, and I agreed with him, and he set the plan forth by clapping his hands together once, and drawing a messy picture of the school's frontside on a piece of large construction paper.

"So, we're in the Gymnasium right now, which is also used as our cafeteria. That means this will be the front of the school, since it's closest to the road. Going west and east, we need a fence that lines up with the largest wall on the school building, and then we can secure a border around the fence lines around the southwest and southeast parts of the school. That'll open up our backyard entirely," Dad proclaimed, tracing his finger around an invisible border around the school.

"Keep in mind, it'll be hard to do since it is January. We're bound to get snowed on at least once, so we should work on things once we have a definitive plan and the definitive parts," Papa added on, scraping his finger lightly on the front walls of the school where Dad planned to build the fence.

"You're right, I completely overlooked that," Dad said. He put his finger to his lip, pondering about the future and how we'll put up fences. I didn't know where I got the memory from, but I rose my hand and started to speak next.

"Well, the weather report said we won't have snow for two more weeks, but it'll be sort of cold," I added on. I caught the attention of the adults, and then some of their praise for remembering the weather.

I only paid attention to the next two weeks because I wanted to see if I had an excuse to stay inside, it being cold and gray in Michigan during the winter, it was never fun to go outside without snow.

"Looks like we have a little meteorologist on our hands! Look at that! Alright, so we have two weeks of no snow, which should be enough," Papa said.

I wondered how they would build the fences, until I remembered that Dad often went into the wilderness some weekends to build a log cabin he was working on. So long as there were trees, there was room for his creations.

"We'll work on the fence, and get Henry to help somehow when he's feeling better. How's he doing?" Dad peaked his head up to look at Henry on the bench by the entrance to the gym, but he was asleep on the bench.

This wasn't a light sleep, it looked like he passed out, as he fell to his side and was lying with his head on the left-most part of the bench, and his body slightly lifted in that direction as well.

He twitched in his sleep, and slowly stood up, shambling while trying to catch his balance.

"Woah, let's take a seat buddy, we don't want you to get hurt now," Bob told Henry, walking over to help him catch his balance.

"Sick... I'm... bleh... blegh..." Henry grunted, coughing violently while wobbling back and forth.

"Trust me, you look like it my friend! Let's get you into bed," Bob said. He put Henry's arm around his shoulder, and walked him down the hall.

Connie, who used to be just latently standing by, quickly ran to her Dad as he turned the corner, leaving the rest of the adults alone.