What Remains Here

Chapter 8

November 7

I've heard the worst day today, and it's just like the morning started terribly and everything began spiraling downwards afterwards, like the universe just served up every single insecurity that I've been afflicted with on a platter. It's at this moment that I realize that maybe being a member of a community is an actual fool's dream for me because I just can't handle society and social interaction and everything.

Because the Shepards apparently were early risers, Grandma woke me up relatively early in the morning, maybe around eight or so, to get ready to help them. I was tired and groggy, especially since it still felt like night. The sky was cloaked in an eerie blend of navy blue and dark turquoise as I passed through the gaps in between the rusting cars, parked horizontally around two or so feet from each other.

Even though I'm not an expert on cars, I noticed that much of the cars that were placed around us initially seemed to be a bit older-looking, and that the more recent cars that we've been placing around our block at a much slower pace seemed newer. So far we've got enough cars for around a quarter of the perimeter, and at the pace of around two cars a day being placed down, it'll probably take around two or three weeks for the car perimeter to be created.

I ended up meeting the Shepards at the northern part of the community, where they were expanding the car border. Mr. Shepard had a handgun holstered on his waist while Mrs. Shepard had a rifle slung around her shoulder, making me feel like the odd one out as the only gun-less individual around them.

Both of them waved at me, and I waved back at them. As I approached both of them, Mrs. Shepard asked, "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing alright," I said. "What about you?"

"Great," she replied with a inhale. "It's a lovely morning out there."

It really wasn't since every single morning has been enshrouded in this gloomy blue-gray, but I just chalked up her response as her attempts to remain positive. "Is anyone else coming or is it just going to be us three?"

"We were four yesterday, but Dean had to drop out," Mr. Shepard responded. "Still, I wouldn't sweat it since if we get lucky, three people will be more than enough to get a couple of cars moved. Anyways, we'd better get a move on since there's a chance that it might be a long day."

We began walking through the fog of ash as the sky began to lighten, the ominous blues fading into a more neutral gray. As I was trekking down the street, Mr. Shepard turned towards me and said, "Make sure to keep your eyes peeled for any pre-1990 models. You know what they look like?"

I shook my head. "No really, no. I don't really know too much about cars."

"You're not into cars?" he said. "When I was your age, that's all we talked about. Well, that and– Oh, nevermind. You kids these days are an interesting bunch."

I was pretty embarrassed, and I didn't say anything, just walking a bit slower so that I wouldn't have to engage in conversation about stuff like cars that I'm supposed to be into but actually have zero interest or knowledge in. It's clear that he wanted to say that I was weird instead of "interesting."

"Oh, don't mind my husband," Mrs. Shepard replied instead of me. "I'm sure with their smartphones and bluetooth and wifi, you kids have much better things to do than speed down roads in the middle of night. Anything you think looks old, just make sure to tell us."

But I was far too embarrassed to say anything because if I pointed out a car that wasn't manufactured before the 1990s, I'd get another one of those glances from Mr. Shepard that I'm all too familiar with. So I just remained silent as we walked down the neighborhood, searching for the perfect car.