Sudden Independents - By Ted Hill Page 0,3

with a swimming pool, rubbing sun lotion on my sexy girlfriend.” Samuel motioned out towards the field. “By the way, the cabbages are saturated. Good job.”

Jimmy shrugged like he hadn’t spent the better part of a broiling afternoon sorting out his irrigation problems. “How’s the greenhouse? Were you able to patch the holes?”

“It’ll hold until the next hailstorm, but we need more plastic panels before winter.”

Jimmy nodded and added plastic panels to his ever-growing mental list. “Are you ready to head back home? I have to try and find a clean shirt before supper.”

Samuel made a minor adjustment to his pants. “Sure, let’s go before I start swelling.”

He seized the shovel from Jimmy and slung the long, worn handle over his shoulder. They dragged their boots out of the muddy field and headed for the white painted houses and brick buildings of Independents.

“Looks like we can pull them soon,” Samuel said, nodding toward the cabbages. “That’ll make Brittany happy. She loves cabbage in her meals. Of course everyone else will throw a fit.”

“Oh, they don’t mind. They like having fresh food to eat.”

Samuel patted Jimmy on the back with his muddy free hand and gazed skyward. “Greg would be proud.”

Sadness wedged its way inside Jimmy, probably in the exact location where it settled in Samuel after Greg died. Samuel rarely spoke about his brother, but Jimmy knew he missed him.

“He left us in pretty good shape,” Jimmy said.

Samuel nodded. “Yeah, but you really made this farming thing work. He knew you were the one smart enough to handle it. He told me so.”

When the plague struck the planet, Samuel and his older brother were living in Independence, Missouri. Soon after all the adults died, Greg rounded up every kid he could find and led them to the small, deserted Nebraska town they eventually renamed Independents.

Samuel looked just like him.

Jimmy gave him a friendly punch to the shoulder. “I don’t do it all alone, you know.”

Samuel smiled. “I’m just the help. You’re the Man. Everybody in town looks up to you, but that’s probably because you’re the tallest.”

And there it was, the fear rising in Jimmy again. “And the oldest.”

Samuel’s eyes narrowed as he shook his head. “Come off it, Jimmy. You have to stop thinking that way. The plague isn’t around for you to worry about anymore. You don’t have a cutoff date.” Samuel jabbed the shovel into the ground and leaned hard on the handle while Jimmy struggled under his intense stare. Intense usually wasn’t Samuel’s thing. “You’re not going to die on your eighteenth birthday.”

“It’s seven months away, you know?”

“Of course, I know. Who has been smashing and fermenting grapes since your last birthday? I’ve got Scout and Hunter searching every Wal-Mart they come across for balloons and streamers. I’m even trying to get one of the Brittanys to fall in love with your sorry butt so you can pass on to manhood with a bang.” Samuel winked. “Pun intended.”

Trying to laugh his worry away, Jimmy grabbed for the shovel and watched Samuel do his best keeping his balance before stumbling to one knee. “All right, that’s enough fooling around,” Jimmy said, helping Samuel up again. “Let’s get going before we miss supper.”

“Okay, but I’m serious about one thing. That wine will be good.” Samuel snatched Jimmy’s hat. “Yuck! This thing’s wetter than a dirty mop.”

“Serves you right, now give it back.”

Samuel tossed the hat and Jimmy fumbled the catch, feigning a charge in Samuel’s direction, laughing again as his friend stuck up his hands like he was going to throw a karate chop. “Take it easy, man. I’ve been reading about Tae Kwon Do.”

Jimmy nodded, slapping Samuel’s hands aside and grazing him upside the head, just to show him he could. “Reading’s one thing, application is something else.”

Samuel smiled. “You’re quick.”

“Don’t forget it.”

They arrived at the dirt road that wound along the fields and up the hill to the wooden farmhouse the two shared on the outskirts of town. As they crested the hill, Jimmy noticed a pleasant fragrance drifting on the breeze and spotted the vivid flowerbed beside their front porch.

“Who’s been planting flowers?” he asked.

“Wasn’t me,” Samuel said. “It looks nice, though. We could use more flowers around here, but I certainly don’t have time to plant tulips. I bet Vanessa brought the school kids down on a field trip to get their little hands dirty.”

“I don’t think those are tulips.”

“Whatever.” Samuel primed the well in the front yard, filling the green plastic bucket they