Reunion

It all started on a grey December morning, news reports came in from around the world, The talking heads all said do not panic, but panic set in. A virus had escaped, or had developed, or had evolved, in some fabled land far to the East, The talking heads said it had the potential to kill a third of the world’s population, but do not panic. By afternoon of that day cities were burning, the citizenry had rioted, pandemonium reigned, and that was the first day. On succeeding days more information came in, and The talking heads promoted fear, and terror. Raw, gut clenching fear overcame much of the populace, a terror that runs deep to the bones, a visceral horror, and the fear of the virus became fear of one another, the healthy attacking each other, accusing one another of various crimes, parent against children, brother against sister, families torn apart by the promoted fear.

I have seen the smoke from the great cities staining the sky, the flames seem to scorch the clouds, and i wept. The cities saw the worst of the folly, wrack and ruin seemed to be their lot. Then came the refugees, fleeing the monsters, fleeing the virus, looking for a safe haven, looking for a respite, and finding none. The highways were clogged with wrecked vehicles, and people fleeing on foot, carrying their possessions on their backs. The terror keen in their eyes, and in the overwhelming flood not a few were trampled to death by others from behind.

I watched from afar, and saw opportunities abound, depending upon my questionable morals, i could have gotten much of material wealth had i so desired, i could have turned highwayman, and robbed the unfortunates fleeing the cities, i could have, but i did not. As the tide turned, and ebbed, and fewer and fewer people made their way along the roadways, i went down to see what could be found, what might help me survive. The people in their haste had dropped many things, some of which would help me survive the coming winter, or so i hoped.

Amidst the wreckage, and the ruination upon the roads a flash caught my eye, it was that one flash that fixed my destiny. I turned to examine the flash, and found a hand attached to a chain, a small herringbone chain, with a golden heart shaped locket attached to the chain. The leaf-work, and metal smith work was exquisite, it was obvious it was an heirloom, and it was just as obvious it was hand made. It was tarnished, but even beneath the tarnish i could see it was thing of great beauty. I went to remove it from the hand clutching it when i realised the hand was not merely a piece of flotsam upon the road, but was, in fact, attached to a living human, unconscious, but living. I still had a shred of humanity left to me, and seeing a damsel in distress, i lifted her out from among the wreckage wherein she lay, and loaded her upon my mule wagon. I made space among the canned goods, and ammunition i had found scattered here, and there.

I returned with the girl, and her locket, to my hideaway, and using my paltry skills of medicine i nursed her back to health. And even in her sleep she retained a death grip upon the locket, she held on as if it were her life line, and i never got to see the inside of the locket. As she slept, i cleaned her up, and her beauty was astounding to me, i figured she must be a true princess, or some such, because she was far to beauteous to be a common city dweller. Maybe i had been alone too long, maybe my imagination had run away with itself, but i could swear i knew her from some place... ah well, i am getting old, and i have known a great many people over the years, most of whom are dead, or far away.

A day later, maybe a wee bit longer, she awoke with a start. Trying to curl back into the corner, out of sight, and away from my flickering campfire, she looked around wildly, as if searching an avenue of escape, there was none. “Rest lass, and recover yer strength, ye’ve had a hard time of it”, I told her, “ but ye’re safe now, none will touch ye here. I found ye half dead upon the road, tangled up in the wreckage of a car, where it appeared ye had hidden”.

She did not reply, but she eased visibly, and edged out of the shadows... “Dada”, she said, “ye are after being me Dada, i knew i recognised you”. She opened the clasp on her locket revealing my picture hidden within. “’Tis after being my mother’s locket, may she rest in peace, and you are my Dada, whom i have not seen in such a very long time”.