Chapter Text
On the other side of town, past the stables and the food storage barns, were the community gardens. There were large plots for growing communal crops, but small plots were given out to individuals who were adept at cultivating particular things. And at the far end of the individual plots was the Bee Man.
Ellie had been telling you all about this part of town since the three of you left the house that afternoon. You knew, of course, that there were horses - you’d had very close, first-hand experience of that - but Ellie told you that there were a variety of animals there and lots of different plants and crops.
When you saw the stables come into sight, Ellie ran on ahead to open the gate into a wide courtyard.
“Come and see Rhonda, the donkey!” she shouted, beckoning you on, “She’s got a foal. It’s so cute.” She waited for you and Joel to get through the gate and closed it carefully behind you.
“I’ll be down with Yanko,” Joel said, walking on. Then he turned slightly and looked at you. “Don’t go frightening Lucy,” he said with a wink, making Ellie laugh. You narrowed your eyes at him and he chuckled and kept on walking. You watched his broad back walking away, wishing he’d turn and look at you again, but Ellie called to you and you went to join her in the stable.
After you’d seen the donkeys, the pigs and the chickens, Ellie took you round some of the crops.
“We learned about this stuff in class, seeing as it’s important,” she told you. “Like, what crops to grow after an outbreak and the end of the world.” You saw so many things, and realised that you probably wouldn’t be able to name half of them.
“So there’s corn and beans here,” Ellie said, pointing to the largest plot. “The beans grow around the corn and make the soil richer and help the corn to stay up. Then, see there?” she showed you under the plants, where there were some squash on the ground. “The squash help to keep the soil moist. It’s really cool.”
You were impressed. You knew that Jackson had become self-sufficient, but this was really incredible. Ellie showed you round some more of the plots and pointed out potatoes and beets, cabbage and carrots and a small greenhouse where someone was attempting to grow tomatoes. There was a large herb garden too, although it was still early in the year and yet to flourish.
At this part of town you could see the high fences which provided the boundary to the town. Reinforced and topped with sharp pieces of glass and metal, it was intended to keep outsiders out and the population safe.
“Outside the walls there are lots of rabbit traps,” Ellie said. “Not very nice but we need meat so I guess the rabbits have to make the ultimate sacrifice,” she said, in a deep voice, closing her eyes and crossing her hands across her chest like a body in a coffin. You nudged her, laughing. “What?” she replied, trying to still look serious, “You want to be haunted by the ghosts of hundreds of pissed off rabbit?” she said, before breaking into a chuckle herself.
Along the wall, with a small clearing between them and the crops, you saw the beehives, two of them. Ellie skipped on ahead and stopped at the door of a wooden shed, before going inside. As you walked up to join her, you heard the sound of voices from inside the shed and when you reached the door, Ellie was chatting to an elderly man while Joel was working on some sort of metal gadget.
“Maggie, this is Yanco, the bee man,” Ellie said, “and you know what that means?” You frowned. “That means,” Ellie said with a wink, “he makes them beehive themselves!” Joel muttered Jesus Ellie and looked round and raised an eyebrow and the man chuckled and put his hand on Ellie’s shoulder gently.
“That I do,” he said, his voice rich and deep and warm, with the hint of an accent you couldn’t place. He was friendly looking, with smiling eyes and white hair around the sides of his head, with the rest of his head bald. He had a white moustache and olive skin, and you instantly felt at ease with him, his manner avuncular and open.
“Yanco, this is Maggie,” Ellie said now, and this was the part of any introduction which always made you sad. But Ellie made it so easy. “Maggie isn’t talking right now, Yanco,” she went on, “but that’s just what’s happening, and it doesn’t mean she’s stupid or anything. She’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met.” You looked at her and felt yourself welling up, the way she described your situation. Yanco turned to you and offered his hand, which you took, and he clasped his other hand around, gently holding yours.
“My dear,” he said, gravely, “Sometimes we all need the shelter of silence. It does not make us less than our fellow man.” You saw Joel turn slightly at these words, giving you a half look before going back to his task. You were so touched. The way Yanco had welcomed you and accepted you without judgement was so rare. You wanted to find out more about him.
“Joel’s fixing the sandwich press,” Ellie said, going over to where Joel was bent over what did actually look like a sandwich grill. “Unfortunately it doesn’t make toasted sandwiches any more.”
Yanco laughed. “We live in a world where things get repurposed. What once made food for us, makes something for my bees.” He reached behind him and picked up a sheet of what looked like yellow card. “Before all this, I would buy this foundation from the store. Now I have to make it.” He passed you the sheet and you could see that it was made from wax, with a pattern repeating across the surface.
“You slot the foundation into the wooden frames inside the hive - the frames are easy to make, but the foundation not so much,” he explained. “Thankfully someone made me this press and I can heat the wax and make my own. And Joel very kindly fixes it for me when it needs attention.”
“Well, wouldn’t want us to run out of honey,” Joel muttered, but you could see that he was enjoying himself. He stood up then. “Think that’s it. You wanna try making a sheet?”
You stood for a while and watched the process and then Ellie took you outside and the two of you looked at the hives from afar. They weren’t like the pristine white hives you’d seen in books; they were far more ordinary looking, like wooden boxes stacked one on top of the other. It all seemed very quiet too - there didnt seem to be any bees around at all.
“I see you are wondering if there are indeed bees,” Yanco said, walking up to where you were standing. “Beekeeping is a spring, summer and autumn activity. They are hibernating inside the first hive, there,” he said pointing to the older-looking hive. “I don’t open it during the winter so they stay nice and warm, but soon I am going to make a divide - I will move some of them to the new hive and we will have more honey.”
“Amazing,” Ellie said, “More honey is a very good thing.”
“Yes, the hive is very full and we don’t want them to move away and look for somewhere else,” Yanco went on. “I will have my hands full with the new hive. I will probably have to ask for some help.” It was fascinating. You smiled at him so he would know that you were enjoying listening to him. It seemed so peaceful out there and the thought that the bees were there, busy doing whatever it was that they did inside the hive was somehow comforting. They were going about what came naturally to them, unaware of the state of the world around them. This small corner of the world seemed suddenly where you wanted to be.
Joel walked over and said that he was going to head over to the stables. “You coming?” he asked and you were about to nod when Yanco said you were welcome to stay if you wanted to learn more about bees. You smiled and nodded, turning back to Joel and Ellie.
“You want me to swing by and get you before we leave?” Ellie asked and you shook your head. You could find your way home. “Bring back some honey, ok?” she added and smiled cheekily. “I’d stay, you know, but I don’t want to be a buzzkill….”
Joel groaned and wrapped his elbow round her neck in a headlock. “Come on joker,” he said, wearily, and she wriggled out of his loose hold and slapped him on the shoulder as they walked away towards the stables.
“They are a couple of people I like very much,” Yanco said, watching them go and you had to agree with him. They were starting to become part of your life, even though you didn’t know if that made you happy or scared. As they disappeared from view you gave your attention back to Yanco and his bees.
———
As dusk settled over the town, you let yourself back into the house. You saw Joel and Ellie’s coats in the hall and Ellie called to you from the sofa as you walked past to the kitchen to start dinner.
“Did you get stung?” she asked and you wagged your finger at her. You’d actually had a really productive afternoon. After listening to Yanco for a while, it became clear that he was struggling with the idea of another hive. He was nearly eighty years old, he admitted, and even though he was healthy, he felt slower and worried what would happen if he took ill.
You’d listened to him talk about how much he loved his bees and as you learned more about them, you knew that this was a job you could help him with. Bees needed calm and patience, Yanco said, and that small secluded corner of the town just felt like somewhere you would love to spend more time. Learning about how to look after the hives felt like it would occupy your mind as well as your time.
Taking your notebook out of your coat pocket, you wrote what you wanted to say and passed the book to Yanco.
I would love to learn about bees and help you take care of them. Would you like to teach me? I need a job and i think I can do this.
Yanco passed the book back and looked at you for what felt like a long time. His deep brown eyes were kind and sharp and he was scrutinising you, but kindly. And then he held out his hand. You shook it and he went to get his coat from the shed, saying that he would take you to the job allocation office and ask that you be assigned to him.
Walking into the kitchen now, you deposited two glass jars of honey on the table and turned on the oven. Ellie wandered in and set the table, chatting to you about the donkey and her foal. You felt light and content. It was like you had been given a reason to get up tomorrow morning - something that was new and interesting. It wouldn’t erase what had happened, what you had lost, but would just give you something that was your own.
When the three of you were at the table, you got your notebook and wrote what you’d agreed with Yanco and the job office.
I’m assigned to the bees! Yanco going to teach me. Start tomorrow.
Ellie was delighted. She started up a line of chatter about how you’d better bee good at your job and bee prepared and bee up early. Joel was silent for a moment, watching her with a deadpan look on his face but then he turned to you.
“I reckon you’ll be good at that,” he said, and you were taken aback for a moment. He wasn’t usually one for compliments. You held his gaze and it was hard because having his eyes on you like that made your heart beat just a little faster. He had this effect on you, there was nothing you could do to deny it. Joel Miller made your heart beat just a little quicker.
———
He’d liked hearing that you had got yourself a job working with Yanco. He’d seen the way you’d been at ease there, seen that the old man had taken a liking to you and your gentle way and so he wasn’t surprised when you’d stayed on to hear him talk more. Wasn’t surprised that you’d gone with the old guy to get yourself logged as his assistant.
But what had caught him off guard was the way his breath caught in his throat when he saw you react to his compliment. The small flutter in his chest when your face lit up. The contented sigh you gave making his pulse pick up. You looked happy, he realised, and he hadn’t really seen you look like that before. Happy from within, like you had achieved something and were proud of yourself.
His gaze dropped to your smile and for a second he watched you bite your lip and wondered what they would feel like on his. He had the sudden urge to cup your chin and direct your whole attention towards him. To bend down and press his mouth to yours. The urge for an intimacy he hadn’t felt in so long.
And then he caught himself before his mind wandered any further and stood up from the table far too fast, knocking his chair backwards. Shit, he muttered, and he seemed to be all arms and legs, momentarily clumsy and uncoordinated. Mumbling a curt thanks for dinner, he left the room, hearing Ellie wonder out loud what was up with him. He hardly knew himself. Just felt he had to get out of there, so grabbed his coat and headed towards the Tipsy Bison, Jackson’s bar and the place where he knew he might find Tommy or at least be able to get lost in a drink and a crowd.
———
There was an unofficial tab system at the Bison. You could spend your rations weekly or save them up. There wasn’t any limit of how much you could spend at one time: people either went there and didn’t comment if someone wanted to get drunk, or they stayed away. The customers of the bar all knew that sometimes someone needed to let off steam and use a bottle to get there.
It had been while since Joel had been at the bar, so he had a few extra ration points racked up and the barman that night was someone he did regular patrols with, so the whiskeys he ordered kept coming back suspiciously large. Tommy didn’t appear, but he didn’t mind; found he didn’t feel much like taking anyway. He sat at the end of the bar, letting the hum of the other patrons fade into a haze as he nursed his glass.
Dammit, the last thing he needed was to be having thoughts about kissing you. Having feelings which could lead to no good. He could ask you to move out, he thought, that would make things easier. But how would he do that? You were settled, Ellie was happy - he couldn’t do that to her. And that was just an excuse, because he couldn’t do that to himself. He wanted you there, even though it made him uncomfortable.
He’d just have to get a handle on things. This wasn’t some goddam Little House on the Prairie shit he was living. This was real life. Things were still dangerous, he couldn’t go getting involved in something like that, even if you had wanted to, which he seriously doubted. You’d already scoffed at him when he asked if you trusted him. You’d been on the receiving end of his rage.
That was why his relationship with Tess had worked: it had never gone beyond what was safe, they’d never lost themselves, never become something that would break them if one of them died. He knew you were different from Tess, he didn’t know how he knew, but he just had a feeling. And that made him feel even worse. He was getting to know you enough to know how you felt. Ugh. He’d never had to worry about that with Tess.
And yet once his thoughts had turned to his former partner, with the drink loosening his tight hold on things, he thought back to her, their life together and, inevitably, to their last day.
He’d been in the darkest places when he met Tess, a downward trajectory from outbreak day that never wavered, just spiralled further and harder. And though she’d never consciously tried to change him, had seemed to see the darkest parts of him mirrored in herself, she inevitably had. Her life since outbreak day had made her who she was and she took on every part of him and gave him something to use to crawl towards the light - not through love but by companionship, a shared goal, a partner in the QZ.
She’d shared his bed too, or he had shared hers, he was never quite sure, because he couldn’t say that they were a couple. Or at least that was what he had thought at first, and had then ignored. She knew he couldn’t give more, couldn’t be more. It had become an unspoken thing between them. She never asked for more so he would never have to deny her. And Tess had accepted that, hadn’t she?
That was what he had thought, had let himself believe, until she said those words to him in the Capitol: I never ask you for anything. Not to feel the way I felt…… he rested his elbows on the bar and put his head in his hands. He shouldn’t be drinking, because the memories that came to him when he drank, the feelings that he normally managed to keep down, they just flooded to the surface. But he’d needed a drink. Had needed to let go of the grip he felt he always had to keep on things.
You set everything right! Tess had demanded, and the look in her eyes, the passion in her voice, the set of her mouth: he knew what she was talking about. She was talking about Ellie and the chance that she might be the end to all the carnage; she was talking about all the bad things that they had done together to keep their heads above water. But it was more; and it wasn’t something he could refuse. She wasn’t asking, she was telling him: he owed her. She had wanted more from their relationship and had compromised: had accepted less, at a level that he set, knowing that there wouldn’t be more, because he couldn’t manage that. And what was that if it wasn’t love?
He closed his eyes against the wave of regret that surged up in him. Tess was gone. She had died the way she had lived: taking on the darkness and sacrificing some part of herself for others. And that day, the day she ordered him to finally give her everything, she had given herself to save them.
What did he have to offer but just part of himself? What had he really given Tess? What did he have to offer you? He lifted his head and signalled to the barman to fill his glass.
———
You’d expected Joel to stay out late, but you were in the kitchen when you heard the front door slam and Ellie, on her way to bed, saying “Woah, dude, you stink of whiskey!” You heard her laugh, and then there was just some shuffling and a couple of loud bumps and the sound of Ellie on the landing above. You thought Joel had probably gone up to bed too, but then the kitchen door swung open with a bang and he wandered in. And Ellie was right about the smell of drink.
He stood on the threshold for a moment, watching you and you turned back to the sink and filled a large glass with water from the tap and put it down on the table. Joel swayed slightly and you wanted to laugh but thought better of it: you weren’t sure what he was like drunk and didn’t want to find out that he was the angry kind.
He pulled out a chair and sat down unsteadily, picking up the water and downing it in one go. You waited a second and then took it and refilled it, placing it gently down in front of him again. This time you went to walk past him and you saw him reach out to stop you, but he obviously remembered the rule about touching you, and pulled his hand back like it had been burned.
You stopped though, and looked down at him. He wasn’t looking at you, just had his eyes down on the table but he seemed so weary that for a moment you wanted to reach out yourself, but you resisted the urge. This wasn’t the moment.
“I’m not a good man,” Joel said then with a sigh, still not looking up at you. “I’ve never been a good man….never been good with, y’know, relationships and stuff.” You stared down at him. Where had this come from?
“Tess is gone,” he said then, and your heart sank a little at the mention of a woman’s name. Who was she? But he didn’t say, just went on. “She was the best of us,” he said and this time he looked up at you and the pain in his eyes nearly took your breath away, “and I never told her…shit,” he muttered, standing up from the table, making the chair squeal on the floor. He looked down at you, so close you could smell the whiskey on his breath and see his chest rising and falling under his denim shirt. And those hurting eyes. You’d never wanted to speak to him more than you did in that moment, but you couldn’t.
“I never told her that….that I loved her,” he told you, shaking his head, his eyes closed against the memories. And then he looked at you again. “I’m not a good man.” And he turned and staggered through the door and you watched it swing closed behind him. His slow and heavy footsteps echoed up the stairs as you stood in the kitchen, a cold feeling coming over you.
You’d never have predicted that finding out that Joel was mourning another woman would hurt so much. As he walked out of the room and up the stairs it was like he was retreating from your life. You hadn’t expected anything, had been trying hard not to develop feelings for this man, but you realised now that you had: now that he was out of reach.
That look the two of you had exchanged at dinner: that hadn’t been about you. Those shared moments had clearly made him think of another woman and that hurt. It made you feel alone again, when the idea of finding a companion had only just started to feel like a possibility again, even if that person wasn’t Joel. But now you remembered that everyone had a loss like this in their past. Everyone had something to grieve over and it was stupid to think that people could have relationships like they did in the past.
It was time to let that go and get on with tomorrow. You switched off the lights and went up to bed.