Seeking Eden Read online

  The convenience store yielded several dusty bottles of water from one of the cases along the back. Elanna scooped up the packs of gum, the sticks as hard as concrete until she softened them in her mouth for several seconds. The flavor was brief but intense. She propped open the doors to the restrooms while Tobin scouted inside, but the paper on the rolls was mouse-eaten and worthless. The soap had congealed into sludge.

  The magazine racks were full, and Tobin packed a few to use for starting fires. Behind the counter Elanna found a few packs of matches that to her delight still lit.

  The first house in the row had no front door. Or rather, the front door had fallen off its hinges and was now half-hidden in the brown grass by the front stoop. The stoop itself was made of concrete and had weathered the years well. In the living room, furniture still sat grouped around the television set, though the screen on the set had shattered.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” Tobin asked her as she followed him inside. “It’s like nothing’s been touched, in all these years. It’s like a time capsule.”

  “I wouldn’t say nothing’s been touched,” Elanna said, pointing to a tuft of stuffing that had sprung from a hole chewed in one arm of the sofa.

  She looked around the room, at the furniture, the rugs, the pictures on the walls. People had lived here once. They’d married and had children here, maybe even died here. She felt melancholy.

  “Are you all right?”

  She smiled. “Yeah. Just thinking about how different life was when people lived here. How different it all used to be.”

  Tobin moved behind her and hugged her. She leaned into his embrace, grateful for it. They rocked together for a moment before she moved away, determined not to let herself feel sad for things she couldn’t change.

  “I’ve never seen a house like this. I feel so naïve. I’ve never seen so many things.”

  He laughed. “And you, the big city girl. I lived my whole life on an island!”

  “But you saw houses. You saw the way people really lived. You lived the way people really lived.”

  “You had hot water for baths and toilets that flushed,” Tobin countered. “You had candy!”

  She shook her head. “Not any more. Let’s check out the kitchen.”

  Everything seemed so small compared to the Tribe’s kitchen. A stove with only four burners. A table with only four chairs. Cabinets that had only three or four shelves, not ten or twelve.

  “Not much left in here,” Tobin said, peering in one of the cabinets. “Let’s get the lanterns out.”

  “I hope we can find some new batteries,” Elanna said as she lit the lanterns. “These are almost finished.”

  Tobin pulled open a drawer, loosing a flood of paper and pencils. “Junk drawer.”

  “What?” She wasn’t sure she’d heard him right.

  “Junk drawer,” he said again. “Old Ma used to say that every kitchen needed one. We might find some good stuff in here.”

  A flashlight and some more matches. Some heavy twine. A few tiny, skinny candles in pastel colors that Elanna couldn’t begin to imagine a use for. As Tobin emptied the drawer, she sifted through its contents, laid out on the kitchen table. Rubber bands, most crumbling with age. Some keys.

  “No batteries,” Tobin said. “Let’s check if there’s any food!”

  The pantry, a small closet just off the kitchen, proved to be a treasure trove. Cans lined the dusty wire shelves, and plastic wrapped containers of flour, rice and beans were stacked on the floor. Jars and bottles, some cracked and empty, also filled the shelves.

  “Someone liked to stock up,” Tobin said. He touched a few of the cans. “Some of this stuff might still be good.”

  Elanna’s stomach rumbled, and she clutched it, groaning. “Baruch Ha-Shem for that. I’m starving.”

  “You have to keep up your strength,” Tobin told her, tossing a can at her.

  She caught it and checked the label. Potted meat. She knew without searching that she wouldn’t find the tiny symbol that marked it kosher. She tossed it back at him. “Sorry. This won’t do.”

  Tobin laughed. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

  He must think she was kidding. She edged past him and began checking the other labels. “No, I guess not. But I can’t eat that.”

  She picked up a can of corn, but the label had none of the symbols she recognized. No OU, no circle k. She scanned the ingredients to be certain the can contained no meat, which would render even the vegetables treif. “This one’s ok.”

  He was staring. “You’re serious?”

  “Of course I am.” She picked up another can. Pork and beans. She shuddered. “This definitely won’t do.”

  He took the can from her and studied it. “What’s wrong with this one?”

  “Tobin,” she said, realizing this was another of those areas she took for granted and he didn’t know. “There’s pig in there.”

  “So? You guys ate rats.”

  “I don’t eat pig,” she said flatly. “The Tribe made some compensations over the years, but that isn’t one of them.”

  He looked completely confused. She tried again.

  “Certain foods are forbidden,” she said, and took the can of pork and beans away from him, setting it far back on the shelf. “Pig. Shellfish. Not that we actually ever saw either of those, of course, except in canned goods.”

  “But…but why?”

  “Because Adonai said don’t eat it,” she said.

  Tobin gestured around the pantry. “Elanna, with all respect, do you think we have much choice?”

  She picked up a can of green beans, and pointed to the tiny letter “u” encircled on it. “As long as we have things like this, we have a choice.”

  “Okay,” he said with a sigh, and she could tell he still didn’t understand. “I’ll find something else.”

  There proved to be plenty. They found the pump over the sink to be rusty but workable, and though the water that gushed from it was dirty red at first, it cleared up nicely. The oven’s guts had been hollowed out, leaving ample space to line the interior with wood and paper; the heat from the fire warmed the burners on top to cook the food. She and Tobin managed to put together a decent meal by the time the sun began to set. She only burned her fingers twice.

  After they’d both eaten until they thought they might burst, Elanna caught Tobin yawning. As he stretched, she watched his face in the flickering firelight. Could this be love, this overwhelming comfort that came just from watching him? She knew desire, and she knew love for her babies, but this was different.

  “It’s late,” Tobin said. “We’ve had a long day. I think we should go to sleep.”

  “In comfort tonight.” Elanna pointed to the ceiling. “Think we could look around upstairs?”

  At first he didn’t say anything, just stared at her with an intensity that made her blush. His eyes were so dark, so penetrating. She thought he might be able to see right inside her.

  “Sure.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll take the lantern. You take the candle.”

  She did, lifting the fat white candle in its holder. They’d found a box of them in one of the cabinets. It meant they’d be able to save the lantern batteries for a while longer.

  The stairs creaked beneath them but seemed to be safe. Their passage stirred up ruffles of dust and mouse droppings that crumbled under their feet. The upper hallway was dark but not long, with several rooms opening off it.

  “This looks like the bathroom,” Tobin said.

  Elanna peeked inside. A tub, a sink and a toilet. She longed for a bath suddenly. Everything about her felt soiled.

  She stepped inside the room and pulled back the curtain around the tub. The material came apart in her hands, falling into a thousand crumbling pieces. With a wince of distaste she wiped her hands and looked inside the tub. There were several bottles there, the contents glimmering in her candlelight.

  “Shampoo,” she said with a sigh. “I need a bath. You do too. Let’s see if