The Giant and the Angel

Posted on Wed Oct 30th, 2024 @ 1:53pm by Lydia Dunham & Edward Harrison Jr

2,401 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: The Road Ahead
Location: Hale's home compound
Timeline: (The morning after the "Campfire Meeting")

After the survivors finished with breakfast, Edward decided to start working on building a garage that he could work on the group's vehicles. For the time being, he set up a few long posts next to the barn, and hung a few tarps across the top, as a temporary roof.

Once that was finished, he went to his truck and pulled it through to the far end of the temporary garage, putting the rear of his work truck at the front of the work bay, leaving room for a vehicle to be pulled in, mostly under the tarps.

He then started getting his tools ready, afterwards, he started to check on the various spare parts he was able to store in the rear cargo area of his truck.

It wasn't easy to be brave. Oh, she'd done alright leading the hoard away from everyone but that was only because her van could move faster and she had a good navigational memory. But this? This was something else. And it took bravery to approach a man, even if the man was someone as kind as she believed Edward to be. So, she stood there for a moment, watching his certain movements as he readied his workspace, and found herself smiling. Edward wasn't a man to be feared.

She cleared her throat, a hesitant cough, and waited for him to notice her.

Hearing the noise behind him, Edward stopped what he was doing and turned around. A big, friendly, lopsided grin crossed his face as he spoke. "Miss Lydia. Was there something you needed my help with?" Though he wasn't the brightest man around, he was still intelligent enough to see that she was a very smart, very beautiful woman. He had noticed that she was shy, for the most part, so he had been careful not to make her uncomfortable. After all, he was one of the biggest men in the small group of survivors.

"I was wondering if you needed help," Lydia said. She answered his smile with one of her own, relaxing in the warmth of his presence without even realizing she was doing it. "I know some from working on the van. Figured if I was going to drive it, I should know how to take care of it as well."

He nodded happily. "I'd love your help. I'm still sorting out the spare tools and parts that I've got in my truck right now. Later, I was going to give each of the vehicles a quick once over, to ensure everything is as shipshape as possible."

"Cool," Lydia said. "Maybe we can start with my van? It's one of the older ones and seen a lot of time on the road, even before all of this happened."

He nodded, the grin still on his face. "Bring 'er in. Big Ed's Auto Repair is open for business."

She nodded, a shy smile spreading on her face, as she pivoted on one foot and headed back out. For all that she was broken and entirely unfit for the apocalypse, there were somethings that Lydia could do quite well. One of them was driving. She backed the van in with the expertise of long practice, shut the engine down, and left the keys dangling.

Edward slowly walked around the van, looking it over with experienced eyes. He checked the tires for any undue wear. Next he popped the hood and went over the engine closely. "How long ago was she serviced? Oil change, radiator flushed, etc?"

"I've got records," Lydia said. She stood still, her gaze going unfocused as she did a mental search, and then nodded. "Got it. They're in the garage." She grabbed the keys and went around to the back of the van and opened the rear door. The area beneath her bed had been turned into a storage area, with closed cabinets on either side. In the right front drawer, she found what she was looking for -- detailed service records. She left the door open and came back around to the front, handing over a thick file. "Saved everything. Included parts I bought."

Edward took the offered folder with a gentle smile. Moving over to the small work bench he had set up, he set the folder down and started to look through it quickly. He didn't pay attention to the prices or locations of the work. Instead, his focus was on the dates of service and what had been done. "Replaced the transmission last year...brand new tires went on four months ago....oil change was a week before the bombs fell...." he spoke quietly to himself as he read.

When he was finished, he closed the folder and handed it back to Eden. "Thank you. You've taken very good care of this old girl. That is very reassuring to see. You wouldn't believe how poorly some people treat their vehicles." He shook his head as he remembered the various work adventures he had had under uncounted personal vehicles over the years.

"Grandfather insisted," Lydia said. Since the back was open, she had climbed up and sat on the edge of the bed, legs dangling over the side. "And really, I agreed with him even if I was annoyed that he made such a big point of it." She smiled fondly as she thought about the wealth of memories she had of him. "I was always the kind that filled the gas tank up when it got to the half-way mark. Didn't ever want to take the chance of being stranded."

Edward stood close to where Lydia was sitting. He was feeling drawn to her, but was afraid to do something wrong, both to dishonor the memory of his late wife and child, and making Lydia feel uncomfortable. "He sounds like a wise man. I wish I'd had the opportunity to meet him." His eyes locked on hers for a few beats, then he looked away, blushing. "Ahem....I, uh, I'm glad you...you are in our group. I...uh...I was wondering....would..would you like to sit next to each other when we have dinner later?"

Lydia looked up, surprised at first but then a slow smile blossomed on her face, as she nodded. "I'd like that Edward," she said. "I'd like that a lot and really, you know, I think Grandfather would have liked you. He was always good at seeing to the heart of people." She dropped her gaze for a second. "Something I wish I'd inherited but even as bad at it as I am, I can see that yours is one of the good ones." Her gaze returned to meet his and her smile was warm and genuine.

Edward felt fully at ease in Lydia's presence. He knew it was too early to think any deeper into things, however, sitting here, talking to her as he was, he couldn't deny that he was starting to feel a familiar zing run up his spine, every time she smiled at him. He blushed slightly as he replied, "I..I do try to be as honest as possible. Life is too short to lie about things. Also, an honorable man never tells falsehoods. Especially not to someone he finds very interesting, and pretty." His blushing increased dramatically, as soon as the words left his mouth. He was certain that she was about to laugh at him, or worse, chastise him for his openness and storm away. He was painfully aware that she was way out of his league, much like his wife had been when they first met.

Lydia dropped her gaze to her lap and waited, to see how her treacherous mind would handle these words and was relieved not to feel anything but pleasure and some disbelief at even the idea of her being pretty. "In the interest of being honest," she said, "there's something I should tell you. So you know. I have panic attacks. If it happens .. when it happens .. I have trouble breathing and I'll just 'go away' ... I mean I'll still be sitting there, just won't answer, won't be really present if you understand what I mean. I don't always know when they're going to happen so, just in case it does, I wanted you to know. Be aware."

She looked at him, head canted slightly to one side, and asked, "So, still want to sit with me at dinner tonight?"

He moved over to stand in front of her, then reached down and gently took her hands into his. As he lifted them between them, he looked into her eyes, his were full of honesty as he spoke. "No where else I'd rather be."

"Really," Lydia said, and then again, "Really? That's ... nice to hear." And behind that, in the depths of her heart, there was this feeling that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't quite the 'broken toy' that had been Whistler's favorite plaything. She let her hands rest in his, a huge step for her, and sighed a soft, happy sigh. "I'm looking forward to it already."

Edward gave her a soft grin, his thumbs gently rubbing over her knuckles. For a moment, he didn't say anything, he just gazed into her eyes, as if hypnotized by her beauty. Then, he blinked and shook his head, as if breaking a spell. Clearing his throat, he tried to get back on topic. "I guess I should give your van a thorough going over." He chuckled softly, then seemingly reluctantly, released her hands as he turned back to his truck. Grabbing the necessary tools, he jacked up the front of the van, the laid a tarp underneath, which he laid down upon as he crawled under the engine.

Humming to herself, Lydia returned to the rear end of the van, her garage, and pulled out her gas supply, checking that each one was full before setting it off to one side. She left the panel that gave access to the interior electricals open for ease of access before squatting down near what she approximated would be the location of his head. "Parts will be hard to get," she said softly. "Is this something we'll have to start scrounging for?"

Edward considered the question for a bit, then nodded. "We will need to find an auto parts store and gather what we can. After that, I'll have to start getting creative, much like the Cubans did during Castro's dictatorship, where they had to jury-rig much of their car engines, using whatever parts they would find, like boat and lawn mower engines."

"Good thing we're staying in one place then," Lydia said. "None of this will transport well if we have to stay on the move. If the world doesn't straighten out, we'll have to start looking at things that don't run on fossil fuel."

He nodded thoughtfully, then chuckled softly. That happens, and I'll be out of a job as a mechanic. 'Course, I suppose I could always learn how to be a blacksmith." He looked over at Lydia and asked, "If it's not too personal a question, what did you do before the world ended?"

"I was working on my Masters in Art at Pratt," Lydia said. Her head turned to one side, lost in memories for a moment, "but something happened and I had to drop out. I was ... taken."

Hearing the pain in her voice, Edward stopped what he was doing and moved to her side, kneeling in front of her, concern clear on his features. "Oh my goodness! Lydia...i...I can't imagine what that experience felt like. All I can say is, I am so sorry that you had to go through that pain! Did the police catch the person responsible?"

"Yes," she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest, "But he got ... away ..." She started to tremble, visibly, and her breath came in short gasps and then, she was gone. Lost to the fear and the darkness of times she couldn't quite remember.

Edward saw the change, as she had warned him about earlier. He tried to think of what to do, then his mind cleared, when he remembered the gentle lullaby that his mother used to sing to him when he was having a hard time and couldn't calm down. He gently took hold of Lydia's hands in his larger hands, and started to sing softly to her.

[Short While Later]

A rope of sound, delivered in a deeply male voice, drifted through the darkness, spiraling downward to reach where she huddled on a barren stone floor, hugging herself for warmth. Rich and warm, the sound curled around her, penetrating the fog and drawing her back slowly.

She had leaned into him without realizing she had done so, buoyed upward by the sound of his voice. She came back slowly but she did come back. Eyes fluttering open, trying to control her breathing as a sudden wash of embarrassment swept through her.

As Lydia started to return to herself, Edward moved to wrap his arms around her protectively. He continued to softly sing the lullaby as he did so.

Lydia leaned against him and for the first time since her grandfather died, felt safe. "Sorry, sorry," she murmured softly as she tried to sit up. "First one today."

In a manner that seemed out of place from the big man, Edward softly shushed Lydia and gently rocked her in his arms. "No need to apologize, Lydia. I just want you to feel safe."

Lydia settled back into Edward's arms and allowed herself to be rocked, to be held, while the soap bubbles that were her memories of those days, burst one by one, disappearing back into the void of her traitorous memory. Except for one. Alone on a stone floor, with a chain around her ankle, curled up in a fetal position trying to stay warm.

That one stayed.

Edward knew that he couldn't protect Lydia from the demons in her mind and memory. All he could do...all he would do...is do everything in his power to ensure that she was safe now and going forward. This he swore to himself. Though he did not like violence, he would endure it, if it meant that this woman was safe from harm.

A Post By:

Edward Harrison Jr.
and
Lydia Dunham
Wisconsin Survivors

 

RSS Feed