Free But the Children Survived by A. L. Jambor

bodies and clearing the road.”  Gerald was turning red trying not to lose his temper.
    "And I told you this morning that we needed supplies and that food is a priority,” Christie said, her eyes narrowing in anger.  Gerald always backed down when she looked at him like that. 
    "Well, maybe for one day.  Do it for one day and we'll see.  But if one child dies because we didn't get to them, it will be on your head.”  Gerald walked over to his desk and sat down with his back to them.
    "There's plenty of food out there,” Andrew said.  “Anybody living within a mile of a supermarket or big box store will be fine.  And that's pretty near everybody.  Simon and I will go out alone tomorrow.” 
    Andrew left the office to check on Pat.  Christie stuck her tongue out at Gerald’s back and left the office too.  She noticed Simon standing by the corridor door and went over to him. 
    "Simon, I know you've been busy, but is there any way you can get those sprinklers working?  Calvin is watering, but the plants would grow so much better with sprinklers.  If Pat stays behind tomorrow, could he work on them?” 
    She looked hopefully at Simon, an old-school plumber who had taken this job because work was scarce and at 50, he thought it might be an easy gig.  Now he spent his days moving dead bodies and cars off the road, and loading supplies into an inadequate truck.  And now Christie wanted him to leave Pat to work unsupervised.  He loved Pat, but Pat never took anything very seriously, and he was a less than adequate plumber.  But Christie’s eyes were pleading with him. 
    "I’ll see what I can do.  Maybe I can supervise him nights.”  That was it.  Simon had spoken.
    Andrew and Pat came out of the last room and walked toward Christie.  Andrew smiled when he saw her.  Christie looked at that handsome face and felt her legs go a little weak. 
    Pat, on the other hand, reminded her of a puppy.  He was short, cute, with black hair and black eyes, a Brooklyn-born Italian boy with a quick sense of humor and a light in his eyes.  And every time he went out with the crew, he threw up in his suit. 
    "Miss Christie.  How are you?”  Andrew put his arms around her and Christie found herself in a big warm bear hug.  “I can see good ole Gerry has taken his toll on you.” 
    "He really is an idiot.”  Christie surprised herself by saying it out loud.  “I mean, he just has his priorities screwed up.”
    "No, he's an idiot.”  Andrew smiled again and put his arm around Christie’s shoulders. 
    He led her out of the corridor and into the city.  They walked into the cafeteria and the kids yelled “Yay” when they saw Andrew.  Andrew loved to get down on the ground and play with the kids.  He let them ride his back, he wrestled with them, and he tossed them up in the air.  The kids loved every minute of it, but Christie kept seeing broken bones.
    Then the kids saw Pat and all hell broke loose.  They came and stood around him while he told them jokes and stole their food off their plates.  All in all, when the crew got back, it was a good day.
    Andrew was sitting with Pat and Christie after the kids left the cafeteria.  They were talking about the boy they had brought in a couple of days ago, Mark. 
    "That kid was just fine,” Andrew said.  Andrew was rocking back and forth.  He did that when he was agitated, anxious, or thinking hard.  “There was no reason to bring him here.”   
    "But, he's only 10 years old,” Christie said.
    "You know, I've been wanting to ask you something,” Pat said.  “Why are they all 10 years old?”
    "That is the million dollar question. We haven't determined the reason for that yet.”  Christie sounded genuinely discouraged. 
    "Well, it's weird.”  Pat added. 
    Andrew took Christie’s hand.  “You know, I really do believe you'll figure it out.”  He cupped her hand in his and looked at her.  She found herself momentarily