Authors: L.M. McCleary
I laughed and started to walk away. “Pirates, Kay? Sounds like one of those
make-believe stories we heard about.”
Kay was right at my heels. “Well, it sounds really cool anyway.”
I was on my way to the town square to put my list of supplies on the bulletin
board. It was always something I waited until the last minute to do; something
about the Provider just made me feel uneasy and I detested being in charge of
our family’s list. Kay had stood at my side today though, chatting away and
distracting my thoughts. If it was one thing I could count on, it was Kay; he
was always there.
“Well, alright Kay. I’ll bite; what makes this story so interesting?” I had
smiled at him as a dopey grin crossed his face.
“It was saying how pirates live in sandstorms, and how they use the cover of
the sand to steal from towns and villages that become engulfed in the storm.
Isn’t that crazy? Can you imagine how incredible their eyesight must be in
order to hide out in a sandstorm?”
I had to admit, that did sound pretty interesting. “What else does it say?” I
asked, looking down at the book in his hands.
Kay had started leafing through some pages as we walked, completely oblivious
to the few girls that were vying for his attention nearby. They always were;
either Kay was much too absorbed in his books to notice or he pretended not to
care. Either way, I seemed to be the only one who ever noticed. I think people
were envious of the relationship we shared, but we were best friends, after
all, and had been since childhood. No one else shared his love of knowledge
like I did.
I shut
my eyes tight at the thought and tried to focus my attention back to the predicament
I found myself in. Pirates…surely that was a joke, right?
An
old book from the days of my father?
Even still, I glanced at the
footsteps before me with trepidation. There could only be two possible, and
rather hefty, outcomes of this sign. One…is that
Ponika
has found my family before I did and is safe in their loving care. Or two…is
that
Ponika
has encountered some people that would
probably consider a horse to be quite a rare prize. Either way, the thought of
actually continuing my journey without him made my throat dry. Could I really
do this alone?
“Stop; just stop.
Thinking like this won’t help me at all. I
need to find Salvation…maybe he’ll be there.”
I was
sure that I had remembered its location and immediately headed off, although I
never really needed my inner compass before. By this point I think it would
have completely rusted over. After what must have been at least an hour I knew
I had gone the wrong way; there was nothing but sand around me once again and
no signs of any kind of civilization. I grew tired, but I pressed on; I would
find something soon, I was sure of it.
I had
walked unconsciously. I had found myself sleepwalking at one point, suddenly
jarring my eyes open and realizing that I didn’t know how far I had travelled;
the last few seconds, minutes, hours were a blackened haze in my mind as I had
shifted in and out of consciousness. The sand was becoming thick at my heels
and I barely had the strength to pull myself out of its grasp. My head hung
low, I drudged onwards, my eyelids becoming heavy once again. I must have
fallen asleep once more because I was suddenly jolted awake by my feet scraping
against asphalt underneath me. My head flew up wildly and I saw I had found
myself at a rather small village; so small, in fact, that my own little town
could be considered a sprawling metropolis in comparison. I saw no signs of
Ponika
, but this was the next best thing.
The buildings were old and burned yet still standing. The charred brick and
rusted signs were eerie in the emptiness of the wasteland. I passed by a
General store covered in soot but I could tell through the broken windows that
it had been raided many years ago; nothing but dust covered the long, broken
shelves inside. Even the cash register was tipped and emptied although I didn’t
know of any need for money anymore. Above the store were apartments with busted
windows and a circular spot of what appeared to be pitch covering the brick and
mortar of the building; it was a large section of impact that had splattered
across the window-frames around it. The stairs that lead to above the shop were
demolished, however; there would be no way to scavenge those rooms now.
I continued on past a car repair shop; its sign, ‘Garage’, was still hanging
sturdy above its door with very little damage. One garage door was wide open
and the second one was jarred in a half-open state, casting darkness upon the
room it encased. I peered inside as I travelled, squinting at the outlines in
the shadows; various yellow eyes suddenly peered back, their gaze steady and
unwavering. I could barely make out the large, furred bodies the eyes belonged
to but I could see their long, slimy pink tails reflecting off the car parts
scattered across the garage. I averted my gaze but kept them visible in the
corner of my eye until they, too, averted theirs; I could see that they already
had a meal to focus on. I respected their territory and left the garage behind,
focusing on the small schoolhouse next door.
It was made of faded red bricks and contained a lone bell tower upon the roof,
of which a bell no longer resided; I would later find its rusted and cracked
carapace in the dirt behind the schoolhouse. The windows of the school were
boarded up but glass littered the dusty sand outside them all the same. The
schoolhouse itself, however, appeared sturdy and in good condition; my next
stop. The shutters of the houses around me slammed angrily against their
foundations as I opened the school’s door and stepped inside.
I immediately coughed from the dust, sending even more flying around in the
stagnant air. Small shafts of sun peeked through the gaps in the wood that
boarded the windows, allowing me to see clearer than I had anticipated. There
were nine small desks laid out in a three-by-three fashion before me and a
large desk at the far end facing the others; an obvious teacher’s desk. A black
filing cabinet was tucked into the corner beside the desk, its sharp and
glinting frame bright in the remains around me. It was a familiar sight; the
library back home had a very similar one hidden away beneath curtains and
stacks of
encyclopedias
, although we never could get
it open. I stepped farther into the schoolhouse, hearing the crunch of rotten
books and soiled papers underfoot. They littered the floor near a broken
bookshelf nearby, but other than that the room appeared almost untouched. The
blackboard on the far wall was slightly scuffed and contained a few
mathematical questions for addition with its chalk and brush still sitting
neatly on the wooden ledge. As I neared the board I noticed the small stack of
papers on the teacher’s desk; they were completely untouched by time and
stacked ever so neatly. I gazed down at them, not expecting to see any names I
recognized and yet there it was: Nathaniel
Torin
- A+
student. I quickly skimmed through the pile but Nathaniel’s was the only name I
knew. All six pages on the desk, however, were A’s or better, but this was a
classroom of nine; where were the rest? Perhaps the last three desks merely
remained unused, although their scattered papers and perfectly sharpened
pencils in the indent upon them made me feel otherwise. I stared down at
Nathaniel’s paper in my hand; it was far more advanced math than the addition on
the blackboard behind me…just who exactly was this guy? I chucked the paper
back onto the pile and started to rummage through the few drawers in the
pressboard desk. Ruined papers, a few broken pencils and…a key; for the filing
cabinet, I assumed. I put it to work immediately but found little of interest
in the exposed folders; the backgrounds and behaviour problems of kids I had
never heard of and notes on tests were in most of the cabinet’s drawers…until I
found Nathaniel’s file. It was written in a mix of English and a language I had
never seen before. Nathaniel had more information on his file than anyone else
but unfortunately I couldn’t read most of it. I put his papers into my backpack
and returned the folder; maybe Kay would find this interesting.
No sooner had I closed my backpack when I heard a loud bang outside from
slamming doors and muttering voices accompanied it. I ran to a window and did
my best to peer through a gap in the boards.
“Which house is it, then?” A female voice asked.
“Why ask him? He clearly doesn’t know.” A male voice responded.
“I told you I never really knew; I just had a hunch. Clearly I was wrong,” a
gruffer voice responded, “we’ll have to check all of them.”
“We don’t have time for that, Nate; the winds won’t last.” The first male voice
responded in a concerned tone. I could see their feet wandering closer but
still could not make out their faces.
“…we’ll check one more and then the schoolhouse, alright? Surely we have time
for that.” The man called Nate slowly replied.
Nate…it surely can’t be…?
“We’ll have to make it out fast, Nate…I’m willing to help you but I can’t get
caught; not again…”
“I know, Amy. A quick glance should be enough to know if it was Ms.
Hatchfield’s
place or not; I promise. We’ll be done before
you know it.”
“Ms.
Hatchfield
? You mean Dorothy, right?” The other
man responded as I watched their feet saunter off towards a house opposite the
garage.
“Yes, Thomas. Force of habit, I suppose.”
I knew I had only precious seconds to escape the school while they were
elsewhere and so I prepared myself accordingly. I watched as the door was held
open and two people went inside. When I saw the third start his way inside I
darted for the exit. As soon as I heard the slam of the door behind them I left
the school and was greeted to a full blast of sand to my face; I was in the
middle of a sandstorm that had conjured itself up quite suddenly. Fixing my
bandana around my face I raced behind the schoolhouse, thankful at least for
the wind covering my tracks. I had barely reached the old school bell when I
heard the Pirates again.
“The wind is really picking up, Nate…I don’t think we have time; they’ll leave
without us!” Thomas sounded panicked now. I stayed close to the brick, willing
them away; the last thing I needed was a confrontation with Pirates.
“We have time; I’m just grabbing a folder. I was hoping to find more today but
this’ll have to do.” Nate replied as I heard their footsteps nearby and the
sudden slam of the school’s door.
I was frozen to the spot. Nate
…looking
for a folder?
Could this be the same Nathaniel? I clutched my backpack tightly as I cursed
myself; what have I done? I could hear the Pirates stomping around inside
through the broken windows and heard the sliding of the filing cabinet.
“Where is it?” Nate asked angrily.
“It’s gone, Nate…all your papers are gone.” Amy murmured in response.
“Why would she do that? Why would she leave me an empty folder? What’s so
important about my documents?”
“You should know the answer to that.” Thomas responded.
I heard Nate sigh angrily and the slamming of metallic drawers. “No one else
has lost information…”
“Oh, no, not at all.
Our papers weren’t conveniently
lost in a fire, were they Amy?” Thomas replied sarcastically.
“You really think it was intentional?” Nate asked, calming his anger.
“We don’t really have time for this…” Amy’s words were quiet and drawn out.
“She’s right; we can talk about this later. Let’s go.”
I heard their shuffling feet and the door open once again. Gripping my backpack
in a white-knuckled state, I peeked around the corner of my hiding place as I
saw three figures disappear into the sands.
Journal Entry #3,
I had wandered the small town for a
while, keeping an ever vigilant eye on the rodents that inhabited the nearby
Garage. I had wondered on what those Pirates were looking for as I entered the
few lone houses across from the school. No wonder the travellers didn’t look
for long, though; the homes were an absolute mess on the inside. Their roofs
were caved in and broken beams littered the floor. Everything was covered in
dirt and soot and what little remained of the furniture was scattered across
the house. There was clearly nothing to salvage from and walking any further
inside would have been disastrous; the entire frame of the homes creaked and
swayed in the wind and the foundation shifted at every step I had made. I left
the homes as quickly as I had entered them. I didn’t know what those Pirates
were looking for, exactly, but I knew I had a piece of what they wanted; a
thought that caused my stomach to knot up in fear. What would have happened if
they knew I had his papers?
If I exposed myself?
Should I put them back? Though I don’t know what good that would have
done...they won’t exactly be coming back here to check again when they already
know it’s not here. Even though the idea of getting on a Pirate’s bad side had
made me nervous, actually having such important documents was exciting as well;
maybe Kay would be able to make something of it when I found him?