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Spelville (conclusion)

dystopia

By Charles TurnerPublished 2 years ago 40 min read
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Spelville (conclusion)
Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash

CHAPTER SIX

He felt as though he had just laid his head upon the hard, flat, pillow when Carl and Styxx shook the bed frame and whacked a stick against the headboard. To Carl, it was high humor, to razz a somebody that way. Joseph sat up to discover that Dylan already was on her feet. The main body of travelers had arrived. For the first time, they saw the total of men all together. And, behind the clustered group, Nicole and Annie attempting to break through, so they could be with Joseph. He grabbed Dylan by the arm. “There’s my family,” he said, trying to drag her with him.

It was a bitter reunion, with the women crying, trying to tell him at once all that had happened, and Joseph attempting to gather them together in one big hug. He soon was able to introduce Dylan and explain from whence she arrived.

Nicole’s smile told Joseph he had her blessing to be with Dylan. Before they could carry on further, Jerry Peasalt announced it was time to board the bus.

The women were invited in first and told to make themselves comfortable in back, to prepare for a long ride. The men were segregated, except for Joseph, who was allowed to be with his family.

In the darkest night, they set out, on a long, rough, road, as everybody slept, with the exception of the driver and one who rode shotgun. There were long grades and frequent turns, after a few hours, and one long downward ride, before all leveled off, as, by now, the sun set the horizon aglow. They passed through ghost towns and graveyards of dead vehicles nearly blocking stretches of road. And then they topped a rise and there it was: New America: A sparkling valley, with a river across the center of it. Well kept homes, with lawns and sidewalks and automobiles in the driveways.

The bus driver honked at a few passing autos as they rode into town. After four blocks the bus pulled in and came to rest in a pavilion built for official vehicles, such as buses, cop cars (they had two), four fire trucks and an ambulance. Across from the pavilion, the public buildings, including CITY HALL, LIBRARY, and FIRE DEPARTMENT were identified by large block letter signs. Watching from a seat window, Joseph judged by the dilapidated conditions of most structures across the river that just one side of the town was in use. He saw a growing crowd gathered, as word spread that the Searchers, as they were called, had returned. When it was learned they had brought some women, the men, for several minutes, became raucous, cheering and clapping. But they quickly sobered up, to wait quietly for the females to be introduced.

As the male occupants, excepting Joseph, exited the bus, all gathered close. Jerry Peasalt shook Mayor Jack Crackie’s hand and delivered a vocal report on a quest fulfilled.

“Citizens,” he said, projecting his voice, that all might hear, “You need to know we found three women on this trip.” He waited for the cheers to die down before speaking further. “All in all, we added four members to society. The male and one female, siblings, are very young. They were born in the wake of the Sickness, which tells me, humans just may have a future.” The listeners eagerly crowded near, so as not to miss a word. “They are about nineteen and twenty one. (cheers) I caution you that the female is very fragile. It would not take a lot to destroy her. I ask you to treat this girl gently. The mother is here, and she has physical handicaps. At any rate, I think she is not likely to be able to produce a child. The third one is a healthy specimen. She has a mate already. He is going to resent having to share her. I ask that you consider their relationship when dealing with them.“ He paused, not certain of himself in what he was about to say. “The schedule for living arrangements with the women will be posted tomorrow or the next day. Now; we are tired. After we introduce the new citizens, we are about to move them into the compound and then take our rest. I ask you all to be quiet and respectful when we bring them out.”

“We ain’t animals,” Steve Varney - the auto mechanic - said, resentfully.

“I know you aren’t,” Jerry said, apologetically. “I just felt it had to be said.”

Jorge Cruz poked his head inside the bus to coax the newcomers out. The first one down the steps was Joseph. Determined to shield the women as best he could, he stood by to help them down, although just Nicole required any consideration. Dylan came out, then Annie. Nicole held her son’s hand on the way down. And they waited, enduring the town’s stares, Dylan with her arm crooked inside Joseph’s, Annie trying to hide behind the couple and Nicole eyeing neutral territory.

“First, a mate to Joseph Kerr:” announced Jerry Peasalt, “is Dylan, with one name. Behind them: Annie Kerr. And, Nicole Pearson, a very impressive person, once you know her story.”

Mixed applause and greetings from the audience. A few tried stepping forward to voice their emotions but were blocked from getting close. Then an armed procession of Jerry Peasalt, Jorge Cruz, Edgar Snossile, Mayor Jack Crackie, and Styxx Malone led the newcomers to the compound.

A tall wrought iron gate swung aside, allowing entry to a set of three duplex houses, with elaborate patios, landscaping, and a combined gym and recreational complex. Also a jogging trail.

Jack Crackie came along, after dismissing the escorts, to show them the ropes. He felt they just needed to see the amenities and to be given the opportunity to ask questions, before being left on their own. He made certain they could safely operate the electric range and make proper use of the toilet. He knew the older women likely recalled such things from pre Sickness days, but it could not hurt to be served a refresher course. “Do you have any questions, before I leave you alone?” he said, turning, hopefully, to leave, without further issues.

“I have,” Dylan responded.

The poor man paused, as though fully expecting to be verbally abused.

The woman‘s response was civil, however. “Why can’t women make their own choices?” she demanded to know. “In the end, the result would be the same: children to propagate the race. Happy women raise up healthier families.”

Mayor Crackie nodded, sadly. “Yes,” he replied. “In a better world, that would be an appropriate way to deal with the situation. I have been proscribed from mentioning something that happened here, about three years back. The reason I am going to break the rule and tell you is that I think you will become better inclined to cooperate, once you learn of it.”

Crackie looked about as if to be certain no long time residents were within hearing. His voice was guarded. “There was another woman,” he began. “She wandered in, on her own, trusting she would be received as a human being. There was such a stampede of eager, woman hungry souls - She didn’t survive the first hour. The ones that responded that way expressed remorse. Fat good it did poor Marie. That was why the constitution was rewritten, regarding women, and law enforcement was beefed up. The penalty now for harming any woman is death by stoning, like in the Bible. But, I assure you; if these men believed they had no hope of knowing a woman, ever again, there would be riots and civil war, no matter what law enforcement we have.”

“Maybe the Sickness was a good thing,” Dylan said.

Joseph winced. “You really believe that?”

She looked apologetically at him. “No,” she said. “But it troubles me that humans can be so uncivil.”

“It troubles me, too,” Crackie said, soberly.

They watched the gate being locked behind the Mayor, and a sentry left to stand guard in a little shelter nearby. “Well,” Joseph said. “They didn’t assign the homes. Let us go pick ours out.”

Nicole wanted to be next door to Annie, to be better able to “keep an eye on her.” They took possession of A and B. Joseph chose C.

Every unit came with two bedrooms and two baths, located near the front, and down a long hall. They each chose the front rooms. Later, everyone gathered on Nicole’s patio, to drink instant tea and talk. Compared to their own homes, these duplexes were luxurious. Still, they preferred Spelville. When they spoke of the men expecting to move in with Nicole and Annie, they agreed that being polite and friendly, if possible, was the best approach. Annie did not know if she could manage that, but she would try to be decent to them. So fragile was she, in the presence of a man, she did not know if she would be able to stay in the same building.

Nicole had triumphed over so much in her life that she felt she would endure, so long as the men obeyed the rules.

Dylan’s strength and audacity made it seem possible that she would dominate the males.

Joseph, once he joined the general population, would look for weaknesses in the system, until it came to him how they would escape. He hoped their getaway could include something like the bus they came in, for there could be no walking to Spelville.

Bedtime came early, for the last several days had instilled weariness, and one by one they dropped on their beds like stones and lay as still as stones until late in the morning.

The boarders met to have their breakfast and to wait for the New Americans to make the next moves. Subdued, yet defiant, they watched the gate to see who would be coming through.

It was almost noon, when the trio of Mayor Crackie, Jerry Peasalt, and James Clayborn paused to unlock the great iron gate and to stroll into the compound. The mayor held in his soft hand The List. He posted this complex schedule, which attempted to give all the men a shot at each woman in a fair and equitable manner, on the board. The first three candidates were, Joseph Kerr, James Clayborn, and “Big” Pomeroy Ames. Joseph, of course to Dylan; Clayborn to Nicole; Big Pomeroy to Annie.

James told Nicole he could understand if she preferred he trade his billet with someone else since he was among the ones that kidnapped her. He truly was sorry and he wished he had not had a role in it; it hurt his self-esteem to no end. In fact, he had surrendered his job as a Searcher and volunteered to assist Hangry Jones, the airplane mechanic.

She listened to him, most patiently, and then she replied, it would not matter who came to her home, they would be treated well, so long as they observed the rules, as they had been recited to her.

Jerry Peasalt asked if they had questions and when they did not he said the guests would knock on their doors at noon, next day.

Joseph and Dylan ran the jogging trail a few times and used the gym for an hour. They went home, leaving Nicole and Annie to themselves. They felt very protective of the two but were awkward when it came to reassuring them.

Later, the four ’guests,’ or, ’prisoners,’ depending on which side of the equation one made the determination, ate together and cleaned up together. They sat around, most of the night, on Nicole’s patio. At noon, precisely, James and Big Pomeroy came through the wrought iron gate, pulling wheeled suitcases behind them. James wore a nice shirt and brown pants. His shoes twinkled at them. Big Pomeroy came in vertical stripes and corduroy trousers. He was shorter than Jones by eighteen inches but outweighed him by double; hence, the nickname, “Big.”

The ladies and Joseph stood to greet them and James told the women how lovely they looked. Jones had to carry the conversation all by himself, for a time. Big Pomeroy bore the look of a fool. There is no polite way to describe him. Whenever James made a point that even slightly glimmered inside his brain, he nodded, eagerly, and made a sort of combined giggle/chuckle sound. More and more, Annie began to look sick over the prospect of allowing him inside her duplex apartment. When he asked her to show him where to stash his suitcase full of belongings, she quailed and held on to her mother for support. It required several minutes of soothing talk from James to calm her down. “He is just as stressed as you. He has never been close to any woman, his whole life. Not even a mother, sister, or cousin.”

Big Pomeroy had stood by, looking troubled and tearful. “Yeah, stressed,” he said, humbly.

They all six went into Annie’s place and James and Joseph escorted Big Pomeroy to his room. He looked about at the tan walls, oaken chest of drawers and blue sheet over a king-size bed, his great eyes rolling with wonder.

“Pomeroy,” James said, “let me ask you: Are you mature enough for this? Can you handle the emotions of being alone with a woman, like this? It’s no disgrace if you back off and let this go.”

Big Pomeroy turned on James, suddenly not meek, suddenly willing to become fierce. “You can’t take this away from me. I love Annie. I just want to be nice to her.”

“All right,” James replied. “Only you can make choices, here. Within the law.”

“Leave me alone. I just want to start my turn with her. With Annie.”

But Annie stayed on Nicole’s patio, as far from Big Pomeroy as she could get. All stayed out there, until dinner time. Then they fixed the meal inside Nicole’s apartment. Big Pomeroy ate a little, but, mostly, clung by the door, hoping for Annie to give it up and come home with him.

James became a fast friend. They hung on every word he said. When finally it became too late to sit up any longer, Nicole asked Annie if she would sleep with her. Annie replied that she was not used to spending all of her time with people. She needed aloneness, and rest. Anyway, “The man has to stay out of my room if I tell him I don’t want him there.”

They all looked at Big Pomeroy, who responded as though he understood perfectly.

Nicole and James remained on the patio, as Joseph and Dylan went inside and to bed. They opted to stay fully dressed, this night, for they knew not what this invasion on their lives could bring.

The dark was long-lasting, cool, quiet. When, finally, the night curtain lifted, Joseph awoke, refreshed and craving breakfast. His movement roused Dylan, who quickly changed into different clothes. They flicked on a light, in part to notify the others they were up. His thoughts turned to Annie so strongly he immediately moved to see how she endured her strange night. He and Dylan approached the door with the letter A above it and quietly let themselves in. He flipped the light switch by the door and the two trod the carpeted floor, he poking his head into the bedroom.

At first, he just saw Big Pomeroy, who moved slightly, turning his head toward Joseph, breaking into a satisfied smile. “We love each other,” he said, contentedly.

Then he saw his sister on the other side of that big overblown body. He saw her only from the neck down. A pillow covered her face. He was sure, by the unnatural pose, that she was long dead. “Go get James,” he told Dylan, who had first to force her head past Joseph, to see into the room.

After seeing Annie, she sprinted away.

Joseph stared in horror, uncertain what to do to Big Pomeroy. So he waited for James to arrive instead of making a decision.

James arrived, all by himself, having forbidden Dylan and Nicole to come along. First, he leaned over Big Pomeroy to lift away Annie’s pillow. The simpleton watched him operate, curiously. “Ain’t she sweet?” he said.

After confirming Annie was dead, James gathered her family into Nicole’s place, telling them to remain there until somebody came for them. He went off to find the mayor.

Before long, Mayor Crackie, along with the town’s police officers, came and led Big Pomeroy out the gate. He was taken to jail, at first. Within the hour he was taken to the pit and shackled. He did not seem to comprehend why they were doing this to him.

James asked Joseph and the women if they would attend the stoning?

SPELVILLE 90

Only he accepted. He and James joined a crowd of thirty or so, most of whom gripped the heavy stones they intended to launch the minute Mayor Crackie finished speaking. That the object of fury was a simpleton dissuaded no one. “You want stones?” somebody enquired of Joseph.

Joseph shook his head “no.”

“See that man standing out front?” James pointed. “That’s Hangry Jones. By the time I volunteered to act as his helper, he had the plane ready and was experimenting to get the fuel right. Likely you don’t know about planes. This one’s a Globemaster cargo ship. Wait. I think the stoning’s about to begin.”

Joseph saw men hefting their projectiles to let fly, waiting only, for an unstated reason, on Hangry to lob his. The airplane mechanic tossed one, half-heartedly, then turned away. For the next few minutes, stones filled the air, each landing with a heavy thud. He never heard Big Pomeroy cry out or even groan.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The cemetery grounds were two acres of weed-strewn dirt, with just three graves and one pending, two with Edgar Snossile’s parents and another one housed Big Pomeroy’s remains. They had gathered to inter Annie. Joseph wondered what means had been employed to dispose of Sickness victims since none were represented here.

He sat stoically at Dylan’s side, on some folding chairs provided for Annie’s family. Nicole stayed away. Her life had born many tragedies. This was perhaps the worst one. She stayed in her room, alone in the dim light, with Eve asleep at her feet.

Joseph thought of the cleric at the podium as a medicine man, like in a few novels he had read. The man voiced platitudes, having no clue about the woman in the coffin and thus no emotional attachment.

They did not wait for the dirt to be heaved into the grave. Slipping by with no escort, he and Dylan returned to the compound. Sitting desultorily on Nicole’s patio, they were a little surprised when James dropped in to commiserate.

“I can’t blame just Pomeroy or the ones made up the list,” James said philosophically. “Anyone could see he was unstable, including me. I let it go on. I never saw the man as a threat and I still don’t believe there was murder in his heart. He used the pillow to keep her quiet, when he was on her, not realizing she could no longer breathe. I’m sorry as can be. Do you think I am allowed to offer condolences to Nicole? I have great respect and affection for that woman. I don’t want to make things worse for her.”

“I don’t know,” Joseph replied. “Why don’t you go to her door and ask to come in? She would be the one to answer you.”

James did just that, approaching her room, with Joseph and Dylan close at his elbows as observers. He peeked in. Nicole had wrapped her arms around Eve , holding on to the dog as she might have held her Annie, rocking lightly, eyes closed.

James spoke, barely audibly. “Nicole?”

The distraught woman showed no sign of having heard him. James inched forward and touched her. She opened her eyes for him and they closed, then, and squeezed out some tears. He sat beside her and the dog she held, in silence. After a time, she placed her hand over his, still rocking Eve, still not seeing. They made an odd trio; he, tall, ebony and strong; Eve, the sympathetic Laborador Retriever; Nicole, pepper haired, bent, crippled.

Joseph and Dylan had gone into the kitchen, to make a breakfast style lunch for them. After, Dylan sat back in her chair, watching Joseph pace the floor. “Do you think they will go on with this crazy visitors thing?” she wondered.

Joseph paused before her, grim, troubled. “They will. They are going to keep this going, no matter what.”

James left the compound and it was a few hours later when he returned. He had persuaded the Mayor to get a period of mourning established for the women before the visits could resume. He spoke of his role in their kidnapping. “At the time we wrote the visits into the constitution, there were no prospects of women and it seemed reasonable. Getting to know an actual person changes all that and I never would have done it.”

He said he would love to introduce them to his friend, Hangry Jones. When Joseph assented, James had only to go as far as the door to motion Hangry in.

The resident airplane mechanic was a long and lanky sort, the kind one might expect to see in a Gary Cooper western. His face seemed to smile, while its features remained rigid. He removed his hat and shook their hands.

Joseph liked Hangry right away. The man was humble, yet strong. He seemed genuinely interested in the people around him. Then, Hangry explained about his flight project and why he was in love with this Globemaster cargo plane. “Dependable, carries huge cargos long distances -”

Next, he confided the real reason he had chosen to meet with them. “My plane flies. It doesn’t need any more new work. James has presented me with the challenge that I should fly you back to your home. I could get stoned for even considering it. I think it is worth taking a risk.”

James put in that he and Hangry would work out the details. Hopefully, the parts all would fall into place in just a few days.

Joseph managed to bring Nicole out of her room for the evening meal. He had also invited James, because her affection for the man was so obvious and because his patter was enough to lift a dull occasion. During the course of the dinner, James confided he would be Hangry’s copilot. “He is teaching me about those dials and controls. We’re taking the first official flight, tomorrow. It’s to be a surprise to the town. They haven’t a clue.”

The conspirators ate with gusto. Even Nicole ate well. Eve happily consumed the scraps they tossed on the floor.

The next afternoon, James came to share the story of the first flight of “Phoenix,” as Hangry dubbed the cargo plane. He said all went well, the first five minutes, then the engines quit; there were a few anxious moments; then they kicked in again. “It was the sweetest flight ever, from that point on. The Mayor thinks we are planning an adventure to Chicago, for the first exploring flight, in just a few days. He doesn’t know we have just enough fuel to go to where you live and perhaps get back home safely.”

James concluded the narrative with a great grin on his face.

Joseph eyed the man with great admiration. Then, he worried about he and Hangry’s fate at the hands of what was sure to be an angry mob, on their return.

“I kind of hoped you might invite me to stay on, at Spelville,” the man of ebony replied.

The next days dragged, for Joseph and Dylan. They enjoyed their private time in Dylan’s apartment and they expended extra efforts preparing meals. Often they sat with Nicole on her patio, joined by James, at times. He confided that he and Hangry had been practicing luring the gate guard away, for beer, in a popular club. At first, the man jealously guarded the key the whole time. Then, he just left it to hang at the station. The stage was almost set.

On a day they selected, the guard had grown tired of the daily bouts of drunkenness. He insisted he ought to stay in the little shack. Hangry approached him with an ice-cold beer. Once the man tasted the first sip, he was on the hook. He once again left the key unguarded.

James immediately came to unlock the gate. He waved to Joseph, sitting on Nicole’s patio, to alert him the plan was in action. Hangry had left the plane with its engine running and he planned to give the guard the slip as quickly as possible, so, they needed to hurry.

James waited in an alley between the closest buildings, until he saw them coming. Then he started slowly down to the end, reaching the open street, just as they were catching up to him. This was the most dangerous spot for them to pass because several occupied buildings there had plate glass windows. The women donned men’s hats and wore trousers, for the occasion. Still, to the discerning eye, they were unmistakably female. The hope was, the casual lookers would not be expecting women and would be too absorbed in their own affairs to be alerted.

James actually waved, to one soul on the sidewalk, before the trek was safely made and they were on the road to the airstrip. They met a waiting sedan and were so transported the final mile.

Meanwhile, the man to whom James had waved, experienced a delayed moment of cognition. He rushed into the police department to report that the women were in the act of escaping. Michael Abney, Chief of Police, took the information with mounting concern. He went to the compound, to see if the man knew what he was talking about. When Abney found the gate locked, and no guard or key, he drove around to gather his police officers and to stop long enough to inform the mayor. Simple police work told them that James had been leading them toward the plane of Hangry Jones. Sirens blaring, the two police cars threaded the streets, hoping Jones would need to warm the engine before his cargo plane would be drivable.

They came upon the landing strip, just as the Globemaster went in the sky. The deputy fired a few rounds, to no effect.

#

“Welcome aboard,” Hangry greeted his passengers, shaking hands, ushering them aboard. At the last instant, Eve had bolted and Joseph was forced to let her run. He hated losing the dog as much as he loved getting airborne and away.

The rumbling old airplane rode as roughly as had the bus, but they folded the canvass seats away from the bulkhead and settled in them, confident in Hangry’s abilities as both mechanic and pilot.

James came back from the cockpit a few times to reassure his friends and to point out how to access the refreshments. He told of how he had loaded a cargo of useful items they were sure to appreciate at home.

The altitude was held at six thousand feet, to protect the eardrums, as the cabin could not pressurize itself. There were no really high mountains, en route, and it seemed unimaginable that other planes would also be flying. Bird collisions? They took their chances.

Joseph and Dylan joined hands and rode in silence.

#

Back in New America, a group of fifteen angry men, led by Styxx Malone, were loading provisions and guns into the bus and preparing it for a hard drive to the boat that would take them downstream, to Spelville. Hard liquor was loaded. Styxx vowed that he would bring the women back, or they would die in a hail of bullets.

#

As the plane approached Spelville, James guided Hangry to the meadow between Nicole’s and Dylan’s homes. It was the only place with room for such a plane to land and take off. It would be a bumpy landing, but he felt it was doable. He came out, to advise the passengers to hang on tight before he returned to the cockpit and Hangry Jones began the descent.

After the first bump, the old plane rattled and jumped over the dry meadow. The dirt was hard because there had been no rain on it for several weeks. They slowly came to a standstill. Hangry let the engines run, as they unloaded the cargo, preparing to take their leave.

The pilot was given a group hug and more than a few rounds of thank yous. They wondered if he could in some way avoid the stoning the community of disappointed souls would be clamoring for. He broke up their speculations by telling the story, of the woman named Marie, and his part in her destruction, as his ordinarily impassive face contorted in misery. He ended the discourse with the simple statement, “While I did not touch her personally, I took part in the hysteria that ended her.” He made a final goodbye and took his place again in his restored plane.

The sturdy old airplane taxied around and rolled to the farthest reaches of the meadow, to get the longest stretch of runway possible, for the weeds and roughness of the turf would slow his speed, considerably. It was a gamble to even try. He throttled the plane forward, waving at the onlooking group on the ground. Then the great machine struggled until the wind lifted it. Tall trees loomed in the way, until the Globemaster responded and swooped into the sky.

Hangry was not familiar with the route the bus had taken, before. But, he knew without having been informed there would be some diehards in it, on the way to recapture the women. He spotted the river, as described to him by James, and soon discovered the barn-like structure that marked the location of the road to New America. He had only to follow the road, from there.

Hangry broke into song as the plane carried him steadfastly along. He sang, “Come to the church in the wildwood,” every verse, endlessly, and did not fall silent until he had traced the road, all the way to within sight of the bus, toiling in the heat of the late afternoon. He flew low until he could see the driver, Styxx Malone, and they each waved. He came up and slowly made a big circle. He bypassed the lumbering vehicle a couple of times, before flying off enough distance to build his speed. Then he eased his altitude to a mere five feet above that rugged road. Styxx likely saw the old plane descend in his path, as the bus seemed to swerve to the left, a fraction of a second before the full-frontal impact that smashed both vehicles, trapping any probable survivors in a ball of fire. The wreckage burned in lonely isolation, on the most deserted stretch of the road. The Searchers were no more. And, Hangry Jones had erased the memory of the girl, Marie.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Among the items James had provided was a wagon, such as stores had once sold industrious homeowners, to transport the stuff of do it yourself projects. He loaded the wagon down with jars of canned goods. He and Joseph could make some return trips for the utensils and tools left on the ground.

The wagon rolled very well on the improvised wheels that had been made necessary by the rotting off of the original rubber tires. They traded shifts pulling and Dylan assisted Nicole’s progress, as needed, though she was doing pretty well on her own.

When they cleared the woods and moved into Spelville, Joseph rejoiced. He never wanted to be away from his home again.

James remarked that he could not believe the primitive condition of the place.

Nicole reminded him that she had raised two children, alone, here, with no knowledge of the industries that could return to her the conveniences of the early 21ST Century.

James allowed that he could help out with some of that.

Dylan and Joseph loaded up the pantry with the jars and they decided to immediately bring back the rest of the supplies. They invited James to care for Nicole.

#

The sun had hidden behind the empty buildings and outbuildings, bringing the two to leave the wagon loaded, overnight. They came in to the smell of a meal cooking and James hovering over the pot, spoon in hand. A breeze from the open windows carried much heat from the iron stove out of the room. Nicole, they noted, was napping on the old couch. There were signs she had been listening to Annie’s record collection, before surrendering herself to fatigue.

“I’ve been spoiled, living in a town that has electricity and gasoline,” James told them. “I know how to make a solar panel, but I lack the knowledge to convert the electricity to run in wires. And if I could, I don’t think anything here could be made to work. Everything is decayed and broken.”

“I know where you can get some good appliances,” Dylan said, brightly. “My house.”

James looked quizzically and said, “Your house? What makes your stuff better than what we have here?”

“My father built the best house ever and I have taken good care of it.”

“Well, when I get to the point where we need something, can we go get it?”

Dylan was beaming. “Of course. Now that I belong with him -” she indicated Joseph - “what’s mine is his.”

It seemed to not occur to anybody that it could be a step up to simply move into her house. Perhaps because all secretly knew that Nicole would never forsake her home?

James gently woke Nicole from her slumber. She agreed to come sample his “famous” stew. So the first meal together as a family became a huge success, with Nicole eating a healthy portion, James having a bowl and a half and Joseph and Dylan eating until the pot had been scraped clean.

After clean up and a session of easy camaraderie, it was bedtime. Joseph suggested a temporary bed for James. There was an uncomfortable pause, and then Nicole took James by the hand. “He has a bed,” she said sweetly.

Joseph overcame his surprise, instantly equating his bond with Dylan to her bond with the ebony gentleman. “All Right.” He shook James’ hand. “Well; good night.”

He went in to join Dylan, who already had gone in and begun undressing. He could not allow himself to imagine his Mom and James doing the same as he and she, “What a day,” he said.

As he eased into the bed and held her in his arms, she said, “Can we go to my house, for a few days? It can be like a honeymoon. And it will give James and your Mom alone time together.”

Anything this incredible woman even hinted about wanting was fine with Joseph. He readily agreed.

He waited until an hour or so after breakfast to let Nicole know their plans. She said she didn’t mind, that they were free to do what they like. He could see a different kind of maturity in her that had not been, prior to losing Annie and gaining James. He touched her cheek a moment and there flowed a bond of love between them that could never be changed, no matter the circumstances they found themselves in.

He spent a few minutes with James, to let him know he would be taking Dylan away for a few days.

“Don’t let my presence chase you off,” was the rejoinder. “I have begun to think of us as family.”

“Don’t worry,” Joseph said earnestly. “Dylan and I both love you.”

On the way through the woods, Dylan said she would stop in to “visit her sister.” He found himself explaining why her sister’s bones were taken out and buried in the ground. She did not speak, but proceeded ahead, the occasional tear slipping down her cheek.

Dylan broke the silence as they neared the old house. “Show me where you put her,” she said.

Near the bank of the stream, he located the plot where the bones were buried. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize what I was doing was wrong.”

Dylan kneeled and dug her hands in the dirt. “I’m the one who is wrong, I guess,” she answered. “I ought to have buried her, but then I would have been totally alone. At least I had what remained of her, to visit.”

“I spoiled it for you.”

“I want to put a marker here, tomorrow.”

She lingered a few minutes more, then wiped her hands on a pant leg and rejoined Joseph, to continue to the honeymoon.

Coming on the site where they first saw one another and she had Eve trapped in a snare, she said, “I am sorry I caught your dog. I almost killed it because it was big enough to hurt me.”

Dylan’s house was a piece of fine carpentry, with siding and roofing selected to last over a lifetime. The wide overhang prevented the weather from working on the vulnerable parts, particularly window frames. A great porch protected the house front. The door face was metal. When she opened it, Joseph could see that everything was very much as Dylan’s father had intended it. She had been extremely gentle and had kept it all clean. The lack of running water prompted her to cover over the plumbing fixtures, preserving them on the chance the flow might be restored. “I have nuts and dried berries in the kitchen. My garden could be dead. We should go see. Then, we can catch fish, when needed.”

Dylan’s vegetables were overgrown with weeds and some varieties were shriveled. She said they could preserve the seeds to plant again. She took a spade to dig a few carrots. After wiping away the dirt, she offered Joseph one. While he had tasted cooked ones in New America’s canned stuff, he had never seen, much less held, a fresh raw carrot. He bit into it, savoring the crunchy sweetness. Dylan looked on, proudly smiling.

“You look much as you did when a small boy, doing things in your yard,” she observed.

“How do you know?” he said with some shock. “Were you hiding somewhere, watching?”

“Of course. I watched as much of your family as I could. I became very attracted to you once you became a man. But always I was afraid. Also -” She gave her man a long, deep, stare. “I am your mother’s age.”

More than a bit surprised, Joseph absorbed the revelation. He vowed it made no difference. He continued to love and need her, no matter what.

Joseph explored the house, often asking of her how such and such worked; what did it do? When he walked into the bedroom, it was like walking into a dreamland. Never had he known the luxury of such a bed. He invited Dylan to help him try it out.

#

They honeymooned for a week until they felt they had to get back. Arriving home, they walked up on James, hard at work trying to solve a solar panel. “There is a gap in my education, keeping me from giving us some electricity.”

On a hunch, Joseph went to the trove of books he had found. He decided to sort them according to subject matter. It was his hope there would be information James could put to use. It surprised him that working with books in that way could be so much work. After a few hours, he found himself tiring. He sought out Dylan, who was keeping company with Nicole. She had been listening to an accounting of the time spent with Joe Kerr; also an aside, in which Nicole made her understand about the healing properties of the contents of the drum full of undefined black goop. Joseph knew the story, both from experience and re-enforcement provided by his Mom’s tales. The memory of the fire and exploding gas station were vivid. His father’s demise had brought him pain, for Joe had treated him alone fairly well. At the time, his awareness of the man’s crimes against his mother and sister were only dimly perceived. It took his mother’s retelling the story numbers of times before he began to understand what had been at stake in those times.

When he told Dylan of his project with the books, she volunteered to help with the sorting. By the time he explained his system of order, they were all set up. None contained electrical information. “Looks like a waste,” he said, feeling cheated.

“Here is one on childbirth,” Dylan said, somewhat demurely.

“Oh, it would be helpful, if -” He read in Dylan the truth and quit speaking. Here was a consequence of their relationship he had not even considered. The fact of it weighed upon him even as exaltation overwhelmed all other reactions and they squeezed each other tightly for a long time. “Let’s go tell my Mom,” he suggested.

Nicole’s excitement rivaled their own. “I almost hope it’s a boy,” she pronounced. “Woman’s life is too hard.”

After reading the disappointment in Dylan’s reaction, she relented. “But a girl will be lovely.”

The next months were busy ones, with James and Joseph teaming to make life better. They brought seeds from Dylan’s garden, to add variety. They constructed an out of doors cooker for summer months. There still was no electricity. But, James had brought Dylan’s generator home, to see if it could be made operational.

As the season progressed, thundershowers popped up almost daily, with destructive lightning and more rain than anybody there ever had seen. And then one day, the sky became still and green. They sought shelter, feeling that no measures they took could save them. After a suspenseful wait, they heard a heavy rumbling, following the river, until it jumped the curve and bore down on Spelville, chewing up the ground and everything attached to it. The great destruction barely missed their home. In the end, one of the other houses and two outbuildings were reduced to rubble. The piers had been taken out and there was a long track of splintered trees deep into the woods. The greatest loss: that precious barrel, with the life-saving gunk, had been taken by the storm.

In the dog days to follow, life resumed its normal flow.

One day, Jerry Peasalt and Edgar Snossile appeared at the door. Wearing beards and hair so long and unkempt as to be nearly unrecognizable, they stood grinning, over the confusion their arrival caused. Then Jerry stepped forward and spoke in his unmistakable voice. “It‘s us. Got any fatted calves?”

James produced an instant grin The broadest grin he was capable of. “Jerry. And, who’s this?”

“It’s Edgar,” Joseph said with conviction.

“If you are here for our women -” James said, feigning his best fighting stance.

“No,” Jerry replied. “We want to join you and build a town here, the like of New America, but with better citizens.”

“We don’t have the same resources as they,” James said. “But you are welcome to help make what we’ve got better. Right, Nicole? I feel it’s your decision, not ours, to make.”

“If it will make a future for my grandchild, I am for it,” she stated proudly.

The newcomers were pleased with Dylan’s pregnancy. They vowed to make life pleasant for women and children.

“You came alone?” James enquired.

“Would you believe, we started with ten of us? We hit some hard going, with no water and practically no food. It was like a miracle that we two survived. Jorge and Evan got washed down a gully.” He looked guiltily around. “We ate John Avais.”

That last statement brought total silence.

After a bit, Dylan showed them where to bathe, but they were on their own, clothing-wise.

#

Edgar was able to show James and Joseph how to make a solar panel to work. The house wiring had a number of issues. Within a week, the lights burned. But the old bulbs lasted about an hour and they were again in darkness.

Dylan’s house was ransacked for useful items.

One evening, as all sat to relax and visit before bedtime, a scratch and a few yelps signaled that there was a dog right outside the door. Dylan sprung up to look, cautiously opening it a crack. She felt Eve’s nose poking at her fingers. “She’s back,” she shouted, flinging the door wide.

The skin and bones dog wagged her entire body, so glad to be home again. She seemed torn between Joseph and Nicole, until Joseph sat with his mother, to allow her to love them both. Dylan had gone off to get her some food and water. Soon, the poor dog was full and asleep at their feet. “What a tale she must have,” Jerry said. “Something to rival our own.”

The men were designing and beginning work on a new pier when the storms returned. Days as dark as night prevailed, for forty long days. It was a time of nonstop flooding rains, falling for days at a time, a daily fear everything - and everyone - would get washed away. And then the rain ended. Within days, once the skies were cleared, unbearable heat became the norm. Severe drought quickly seized the land, until a dead forest replaced the beautiful live one. The garden had already lost all to flooding. As the great river became a trickle, the fish and turtles became easier to catch. This was a good thing, so

long as the water did not completely dry up, for the river had become the sole resource for food.

The baby came, weak, underweight, and Dylan’s milk could not sustain the unlucky little boy. He died, at just two weeks old.

Joseph and James secretly began to watch Jerry and Edgar, remembering as they did the admission of cannibalism. They felt they were being watched the same way. Mutual suspicion began to fray the relationship.

Somehow, Nicole survived without changing very much. There was an eternalness about her nobody could put a finger on.

#

Nature, or destiny, had not expended the fullness of its wrath.

The “sickness,” as New Americans called it, had lain dormant, building strength for a next attack, its spores resting in the soil and in the cells of animals and humans. There were no scientists, therefore nobody to research a cure. There were only the unsuspecting animals and fearful humans, like the ones in Spelville and New America. New America had languished, and the population diminished. By the time the Sickness revisited for the final time, there were less than a dozen souls living there, managing as miserably as one could imagine.

The Sickness struck swiftly, with a virulence that might be mistaken for malice. This time the victims split open like overripe watermelons. It took out even insects, making a sweep of all but the microbes. Nicole awakened, one morning, to witness as the mayhem had its way with James. She tried in vain to comfort the family. Their deaths were bloody and in the end, a blessing, for death alone could end that form of torture.

She did not need to be especially intuitive to know, in her core, that life on the land was ended. That life in the great bodies of water continued, unabated, was a fact that needed no expression. There, it thrived, now that human-engineered pollution no longer added to the soup. There was intelligence in the seawater. And adaptability. One day, something would crawl out of the water, to stay. Evolution makes it so, as it makes every species that arrives subject to extinction.

It was necessary to slide Eve’s remains to the side before the door would open up.

Nicole could not face the end, here, with so much death. The sky, heavily overcast by smoke from raging fires, seemingly destined for Spelville, would force her to go, anyway. She set out, downriver, with just the clothing hanging loosely on her dehydrating frame. She would try to reach the ocean, for the first time since being a very small child, on a family vacation. It was tough going, as the brown vegetation engulfed her. She would persevere, cripple that she was. Soon, the great water, The Mother, would embrace her.

Sci Fi
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About the Creator

Charles Turner

My work is based on who I am now and have been in the past. It is based on a lifetime of reading. Autobiography, standard fiction, sci/fi, fantasy, westerns. I plan to put together a collection of short stories to publish via Amazon.

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