The Girl in Red

D.J. took a package of ground beef out of the refrigerator. The normalcy of this action struck Red hard enough that she felt her eyes well up.

That’s stupid, she thought. Why is a package of beef making you cry?

She knew why. It was because it was a Thing People Used to Do, buy groceries and store them in the refrigerator and cook them, and seeing it made things feel ordinary again when they were not. Just seeing a working refrigerator was enough to make Red feel sentimental, especially when all of the food she’d eaten for weeks had come out of boxes and cans and wrappers. Sometimes she felt she’d kill for the taste of fresh lettuce, and she’d never been the biggest fan of salads before the Crisis.

D.J. glanced from the package of beef to the kids and up at Red. “I was going to make bibimbap, but perhaps hamburger would be better? I have some rolls in the freezer and the rice can stay in the cooker for a while.”

“No way, I love bibimbap,” Riley said excitedly. It was the first time he’d seemed like himself since D.J. had caught them trying to break into his house. “Mrs. Mikita used to make it for us all the time when Mom and Dad both had to work the late shift.”

“Mikita?” D.J. said. “That doesn’t sound like a Korean name.”

“She was Korean but her husband wasn’t,” Sam explained. “She also made a lot of pierogies.”

“That’s an interesting combination,” D.J. said, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Well, I’m afraid I don’t have any fresh vegetables for the bibimbap, only pickled and frozen ones.”

“The important question is . . .” Riley said, his voice comically dramatic, “. . . is do you have kimchi?”

“Of course I do. Although I can’t say that’s a question most American kids would ask,” D.J. said.

“I’m a weirdo,” Riley said cheerfully.

“You sure are,” Sam said.

“The only weirdo here is the person who wants to marry a grilled cheese,” Red said.

Sam stuck her tongue out at Red, who responded in kind.

“And what about you?” D.J. said to Sam. “Do you also like kimchi?”

“It’s okay.” Sam shrugged. “It’s not my favorite thing but I’ll eat a little.”

D.J. looked at Red, who said, “I’ll eat anything. Especially after weeks of canned soup and granola bars.”

“Will you all wash your hands, then? The washroom is through there.”

The three of them trooped to the bathroom. Sam and Riley took their turns and then ran back to the kitchen to watch D.J. cook. Red really did cry when she got her chance to use the toilet. She never realized how much she appreciated running water and indoor plumbing.

She took a little extra time washing up, because now that she was indoors and out of the open air she could smell her own body odor and it was not pleasant. She hated to impose more on D.J.’s hospitality but she wondered if he would let her wash her hair and give Sam and Riley baths.

By the time Red was back in the kitchen the process was well under way. Riley shadowed D.J. as he prepared all the elements of the mixed-rice dish. Sam sat at the table with her chin resting on her hands. There was an expression on her face that Red couldn’t quite interpret. She slid into the chair next to Sam’s.

“Everything all right?” Red asked, but quietly so the other two wouldn’t hear.

“He used to do this to Mom,” Sam said. “He’d follow her around the kitchen and ask a million questions and help as much as he could. Mom used to say he was going to be a chef someday.”

Red didn’t say anything, because she knew that Sam wasn’t just mourning for their lost mother but for their lost life, for a life that would never exist in the same form again. Even if someone found a cure for the Cough and the electricity came back on and some form of order was restored, things still wouldn’t be the same as they were before.

Soon they were all sitting around the table digging into bowls of rice and meat and vegetables. Red wasn’t sure she actually tasted any of it, because as soon as the first bite hit her tongue she realized just how hungry she was. It was the same for Riley and Sam, who shoveled food into their mouths like they’d never seen food before.

Luckily, D.J. didn’t seem to notice their appalling manners. He just kept refilling their bowls until they all sat back with their hands over their stomachs, groaning.

“That was sooooo good,” Riley said.

“The best meal I’ve ever had,” Red agreed.

D.J. looked pleased, and waved away their offers to help clean up.

“Perhaps you’d like to use the bathtub while you’re here?” D.J. said. It had the air of a delicate suggestion, and Red thought he would probably open the kitchen window as soon as they left the room.

“Good idea,” Red agreed.

“You can wash your clothes as well,” D.J. said, glancing at his watch. “Although it might be best to wait until the next patrol has passed through. The washing machine is a little noisy, and I’d rather not attract their attention.”