If it Weren't for Iban

The village of Paloma is inland from the fallen cities that have been demolished for over fifty years. As the sea levels elevated, more flooding ensued thus, lives were relocated upland from the Pacific Ocean. The year is 2070; Industry died decades ago. In the desert of the Great Basin alongside the state of Utah: Iban, a young woman, squints at the hills in front of her. As she crouches beside the river, the bottom of her leaden-colored skirt grazes the terracotta sand. She embraces her legs with her protective arms while her coarse mane percolates in the wind. Adult bodies are shuffled behind her by the other townspeople.

Perplexed, she turns her head around to get a better look. Their feet leave drag marks, and their insufferable moans leave her aghast. A young boy throws up near the river then cups his sallow hands in the water to gulp some. A woman heaves her feet languidly, and two children trudge alongside her. Iban erected from the ground of dirt and observed the sickly villagers.

Cicadas chatter as the Arcadian sun sets, and the candlelight from people's homes lit her way home. At midnight, Iban is sitting at her desk pondering over why all the townspeople looked so unwell. Her apprehension continued to weigh on her mind as she slept. The bed felt stiff, so she jerked about restlessly. Her chest released its discomfort, and eventually, she felt tranquil.

She is suddenly awakened by screeches of agony. Her eyes flutter, and she indolently raises herself. She shuffles to her open window and peers outside cautiously. The man's groans were chilling. Iban startles backward and gasps. She wraps herself with a blanket that is the color of pistachio green. She huddles and dives underneath the covers trembling from solicitude. Her pupils dilate: meanwhile, she gazes about her room as if the boogeyman was haunting her. She wakes up to the crackling of a fire and the smell of pork smoking.

Chickens scamper as Iban monitors the village for the cause of all this misery. A family is standing outside their hut solemnly. A young boy with short brown tousled hair is grasping his older sister's hand. The daughter has hair the color of vanilla bean with some textured waves. A murder of crows flies past the family as they stare forlornly at Iban. Maybe they know about the man who cried out in the middle of the night, she wondered. She approached the matriarch timidly.

"Hi, my name is Iban. Did you happen to hear a man who was screaming in the night? He sounded like he was in deep pain?"

"My husband is ill," she stated briskly. "He's resting comfortably now, thankfully, but he gave my children and me such a fright," she said as she glanced over at her children. Iban soothed her neck, which felt like a nugget-sized lump was forming in her throat. "I'm Zahayra, and these are my children: Kira and Azim." Iban smiled meekly and bowed her head with earnestness. "Well, I'm heading out to the Village Square. I can pick up something for your husband if he needs medicine, a doctor's prescription perhaps," Iban offered. "Oh yes, that would be so helpful, thank you Iban." Zahayra gave some money to Iban then she ventured off.

Men struggled to shove their wheelbarrows because they were hacking up phlegm. Iban strolls by some young boys roughhousing in the courtyard. One of them drinks water from a glass bottle. He then proceeded back to the game. However, he is afflicted with a pang on his torso. He lunges forward and dry heaves until he vomits the water he just drank. He lays there shivering on the ground while screaming guttural sobs. Iban's quivering mouth was agape, and she convulsed her head with perturbation. The sides of her mouth creased from dismay. She shrieks for help and seeks it around her.

Iban felt overwhelmed by the bevy of ill people. When was it going to stop? After she recollected herself, she started to consider how the water may be causing Paloma's death. Preoccupied with her thoughts, a man shoves her, and he pleads with her to help carry the boy off to his family. She abruptly returns to the present and follows his lead. They rushed to the unconscious boy's body. "Don't worry, Elijah, I'm here. This kind woman here is going to help me take you back home." Iban glances at the strange man. "Yes, Elijah, my name is Iban. Just keep your eyes open," she cried. Her back hunched forward, but Elijah's savior was stoic in his pursuit to save this little boy. They arrived at the village with haste. People left their abodes to witness the calamity unfold. Zaharya hurriedly left outside and questioned Iban. "Stay inside, kids," she demanded. Kira and Azim didn't oblige, and they gasped in horror. " What happened to him, Iban ?"

"The water," she hushed with a blank expression. "It's the water!"

Zahayra jerked her neck and blinked excessively with bewilderment. Iban stood on top of a rock and shouted until she had everyone's attention.

"The water is making everyone sick."

Murmurs trickled down as the news reached the masses.

"But I have been drinking the water, and I haven't gotten sick." A woman pointed out, and several others agreed with her.

"I think it just depends on how strong your immune system is. It's been about two weeks since the first person felt sick, right? Maybe for others, it takes some time before it affects us." Everyone gasped, and some yelped for mercy. A bulky man emerged from the crowd.

"But what if we are boiling the water before we drink it?" Others affirmed his words and were equally confused. "The water from the river may be getting poisoned. Until we find out who is poisoning the water, we will have to hike to the nearest river and collect drinking water from there."

"But that is over seven miles!"

"We have no other choice. Are there any volunteers to haul the water jugs there and back?" Iban raised her arm upwards and waved at the sequestered people to collect any other volunteers. She raised her eyebrows and glanced about her with a contracted neck. Some confidently rose to the occasion, while several arms shot up reluctantly.

Iban consoles an anguished pregnant woman who proposes fetching the water at this instant. "It is illogical to hike to the river at his hour because we would not make it before sunset. It's too dangerous out there, ma'am, especially for you.

The man who saved Elijah introduces himself as his brother to Iban.

"Good day, ladies."

"Good day, sir," they added quietly.

"Apollo," he said as he reached over to Iban.

"How is your brother doing? Oh, I'm sorry, my name is Iban: nice to meet you, sir."

"Dr.Fletcher is treating him. Thank you for helping me carry him home."

Iban bowed her head and shut her eyes delicately.

"What's the matter with you, ma'am?"

"Poppy is my name, sir. I'm just worried that I'll die from dehydration before I give birth. I'm scared that I'll get sick and give my baby my sickness. Oh! Please help me, good sir. I don't want to die!"

Iban surveyed the river bank at dusk. She was dressed in all black for camouflage. Her entire body was covered, and she wore a long skirt and a long-sleeved thick shawl. Her hair, which is jet black, submits to the great winds the cold night brings. The town was embittered, and Iban yearned to catch the culprits if what she thought about the water being poisoned was true. What if I was mistaken, she pondered. Her lowered eyes squinted out into the foreboding abyss, and two uncanny figures creeped out of seemingly nowhere. They were heaving large satchels on their backsides. Iban's body tensed up, and she could hear the heartbeat inside her head. She shifted her weight furtively to get a better view.

The moonlight shone on her face, and her eyes were alert. "I reckon we finish the job before the wolves get to us," a husky voice barked. “I'll hunt em anyways.” The two men conversed while throwing electronics into the river. Iban widened her eyes and jerked back from surprise. They dumped several computers, laptops, printers, and telephones into the river. “Alright, that's it, let's get back home before sunrise.” It has to be one of them. The electronics are polluting the river with its toxic waste. Iban wasted no time following the two men to find out where they were from. Throughout the night, she traveled in the woods for miles until they stopped at an eerie location. The building has a set of doors with corroded planks, and the walls are covered with ivy. Iban furrowed her brows with disdain while spying on the bad men. She will devise a plan thoughtfully because to confront them now without one would be impulsive.

In the morning, the fog is adamant in making the passage through the forest inconspicuous. Nevertheless, Iban hiked back home to the village where she encountered Zaharya. They embrace, then she looks profoundly into Iban's eyes and inquires about the evening's mission. "Two men from Myak village dumped two bags full of technology into the river. they must have been doing that every night for the past two weeks or so." Zaharya slanted her eyelids downwards and covered her mouth with her shaky hands. "What? How evil!" Iban ruminates on how she will stop those wretched men from causing any more harm.

Iban's name is called out from outside. Alarmed, she launches to the front door disconcertedly. Outside is Apollo with a woman, who has strawberry blonde hair, and a docile face. He presents a vehicle that she has never seen before. Iban introduced herself to the strange woman.

I'm Apollo's sister, Calypso."

Calypso afforded Iban a good-natured smile with squinting eyes and all.

Iban motioned towards the vehicle. "What's this?"

Apollo exhumed an eccentric car. "This is an electric Detroit Model D from the 1990s."

"My brother and I want to accompany you when you confront the river dumpers."

"We shall reprimand them. Afterward, we will call the international police." Iban clarified as she studied both the siblings' faces. They huddled as Iban accounted for the whole plan.

They leave at six p.m; to arrive at Myak village by 11 p.m. Calypso crocheted an intricate net from jute rope. Iban is charmed by her resourcefulness. Apollo loads the back seat with a notepad and a pen for documentation purposes and a watch to make sure we can prevent them from leaving. Iban sits in the middle backseat while lunging forward as she navigates. The sky turned banal so seamlessly: Iban looked out of the windshield more broodingly than before. Intent was etched on her eyes, and once they arrived, time sank indolently. The tensity heartlessly expounds atop Iban's chest. Iban and Calypso walk together staunchly to set up the trap.

"Nerves are expected, Calypso."

"I look that scared, huh?" She said with a grimace.

"Your brother is here, so you're not alone, and I'm here too."

"Iban, we just met."

Iban smiled as she looked down on the floor. It was her self-defense mechanism.

"I am twenty-four years old, and my childhood was composed of lyrical dance practices. My mother told me that grace is vital for diplomacy. I also love nothing more than my independence."

"I am twenty-six years old, and I am a red belt in hapkido. I started when I was three years old. I have to apply those skills, and I hope that I will never have to." She said through a chuckle.

"Calypso, you are the ideal partner for this mission." Her eyes lowered, and vulnerability exposed its tenderness.

They walked back to the car to Apollo with the acquisition of resolution. Apollo was crossing his arms and leaning against the car when the women returned. They crouched behind Palomar trees. "These crooks outta be really sick," voiced Apollo. Iban gulped and stared at Calypso with indecisive eyes.

"So, should I shoot at them? As soon as they're trapped in the net?"

"What! Apollo! No, that wasn't a part of the plan." Calypso interjected fiercely.

Iban shook her head in frustration, "Hey, they're coming out! Be quiet!"

"Paloma is such a repugnant city," hissed a menacing voice.

"Yeah, you're telling me, those people are insufferable."

Their insults were cut short because they were soon caught hostage by the condemning net. The crude halt was violating, but Iban wanted to stop them without violence. They cursed out relentlessly and coughed vehemently from screaming too much.

"You're inside a net that we built to stop you from going to the river!"

"Why did you do it?" Iban asked while the sides of her mouth creased in contempt.

"Put us down, you scoundrels!"

"What are your names?"

They ignored Apollo's question and scoffed.

"Fine, if you're unwilling to answer our questions, maybe you'll be more inclined to answer to the international police." Iban vocalized with growing exasperation.

"Paloma is diabolical! Paloma Del Reyes was the founder of Paloma village, and she ravished Myak village. She dumped dead squirrels inside the drinking water well."

"She probably injected some poison in em too- that witch!"

"Myak village was small, to begin with, and one hundred people died out of the one hundred and twenty-three people who lived there. Myak village was so close to disappearing for good. Our great great great grandfather was one of the survivors, and his purpose was to teach and carry the lessons to future generations of Myak village about the wrongs done to our great village." By the time he finished his sweet story, he looked like a ravaged dog with saliva dripping from his mouth.

Calypso adjusted her chin pensively. "Paloma made the executive decision to drop the dead squirrels inside the water well because Myak's leader: Joaquin, killed her sister because she refused to give up land that her village fought for decades to acquire."

"No, you don't understand what you're saying, stupid girl!"

"Paloma should not have poisoned your village, but that was centuries ago. It's not our fault that happened to your village. I'm sorry that it happened, but our village doesn't deserve to be punished for someone else's decisions that were made long ago."

They hurled spit at their faces from above, but fortunately for the victims, they reacted just in time to avoid it. Their reaction of silence reverberated back at the con men like the sirens from the incoming police. They never learned of their names because of their stubbornness. Iban watched passively as the international police lowered the net to reprimand them. All the noise disappeared, and she couldn't make out the questions they were asking her. Officer Topaz was apparently his name, but he couldn't get any information from Iban because she was so disoriented. Thus he proceeded to speak with Apollo. Calypso nudged Iban's arm until she came too. "They got em, Iban. The village of Paloma is saved. "

"I never knew that Paloma poisoned Myak village," Iban whispered.

"What? Iban, why are you thinking about that?"

"Paloma is one of my direct ancestors. My mother spoke about her like a noble leader, but now the illusion is broken. I used to look up to her." She lamented with wide eyes that were at the brink of crying.

"Iban?" Calypso resounded empathically as she touched her arm.

Iban merely retracted herself away. "I thought I was being competent, but now I just feel lost."

"I'm lost, Calypso."













































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