Untitled Agenda 21 Sequel (9781476746852) (12 page)

She shuffled back and sat down beside me. “Soon we will forage for more food. Maybe Paul will catch a rabbit or two. Or some fish. You need food. We all need food.”

The men came back and it was now our turn at the latrine. I followed Ingrid out of the cave, behind the trees at the entrance, to a
small wooden structure tucked in among other trees. Green vines grew up the side of it and across the roof. It was so cleverly hidden and disguised that it would be nearly impossible to see if you didn't know it was there. Paul and Ingrid had clearly planned well for their shadow lives.

If only I had planned as well. If only we hadn't been forced to flee so quickly. If only the Authorities hadn't planned to relocate the children from the Children's Village.

If only.

T
he day stretched ahead of us, a long ribbon of time. Would we sit all day in this cave? I felt the need to keep moving, to put more distance between us and the evil we were running from. We were still much too close to the Compound and the farm commune. On the other hand, we were well hidden and these people seemed kind and giving. Besides, David was in no condition to start off again.

Paul seemed to sense my impatience. “Emmeline,” he said, “you all need more rest. Your man is sick. Your children are thin. And you look so tired.”

“Yes, you're right. But do we sit in here all day?” I couldn't help but be on edge. I wanted to be doing something, anything.

“We can sit outside, in the shadows of the trees. We can give thanks for the comfort of the sunrise, the promise of another day. And we can visit, get to know each other. That will be the best use of the morning. We welcome the company after all these years alone. The rest of the day we'll spend searching for food.” He gathered up some cloths from a shelf. “Elsa can sit on these. Let's go.”

“Emmy,” David whispered, “I need to lie down. I don't feel good.”

Paul heard him and grabbed another piece of cloth. “You can lie under the trees. The trees are God's gift to us.”

What a strange thing to say.
The trees are God's gift to us
. Earlier, he had talked about sunlight dancing. Something about this man made me think that he found goodness in everything.

Ingrid stayed inside the cave. I could hear her moving around, so I glanced over my shoulder; she was pushing a broom and humming to herself.

“She's sweeping the floor,” Paul said. “It's part of her routine. Having a routine is a good thing for her.” His sentence lay flat in the air, without explanation, but he didn't elaborate. “After she's done sweeping, I'll braid her hair. That's part of the routine, too. Braid it in the morning, unbraid it at night. It's a ritual, and there's comfort in that. It's nice to be able to control something given that there's so much we can't.”

Everyone settled outside the entrance of the cave under large trees that cast cool shade. In front of us were pine trees, their branches hanging down like skirts, brushing against the ground. They stood like guardians around us, keeping us hidden. I still kept my bundles near me with all the things Mother had saved and all the things we had taken from the tents at the farm commune.

Paul spread the cloths out. David lay on one and fell asleep almost immediately, his dark hair falling over his forehead, and Elsa settled beside him. I watched them for a moment, and then suddenly she rolled over and pushed herself up on her hands and knees. With her round bottom held high, she clumsily crawled toward Micah.

“She's crawling,” I exclaimed. “Look! She's crawling!” At that moment, she collapsed onto her belly, but quickly pushed herself up again and continued scooting toward Micah. Again she collapsed. Again she pushed herself up. I watched with my hands over my mouth. I wanted to wake David up so he could see this, but he looked so peaceful, his wounded arm stretched out at his side.

Ingrid watched from the cave entrance. “What a smart baby,” she said.

I felt a swelling inside—pride and love combined. I smiled thinking of how I could now hold her anytime I wanted, not just on the dusk-to-dawn shift in that horrible Children's Village. We had managed our own relocation in spite of the Authorities. I felt a surge of energy that I hadn't felt in days.

Ingrid came out and sat near Paul. He began the ritual of her morning braid. A breeze rustled through the leaves and I could see the sunshine shifting on the ground around me.

“Peaceful, isn't it?” Paul murmured, his fingers separating her long hair into three sections, twisting them one over the other and tying the braid at the end with the string. He was so gentle with her.

I nodded. It
was
peaceful. I could see the sky, blue like Elsa's eyes, through the leafy branches. Down the hill, the river sparkled as it passed under the bridge. Farther away, on the other side of the stream, was the large rock we had hidden under. From here, I could see that we would have been easy to spot. We were so fortunate that it was Paul and Ingrid who had found us first.

David woke and sat up, moaning in pain.

“Let me look at your arm,” I said. I untied the shirt from his arm; the cloth Paul had wrapped on it fell from the raw, red wound.

“It's time to take care of that,” Paul said. “Please get another warm compress, Ingrid. I put a pan of water on the fire pit this morning.”

Ingrid shuffled into the cave and came back with the cloths. She laid them gently on David's arm. It must have felt good, because he gave her a grateful smile.

“We'll leave those on until the sun reaches right below the treetops,” Paul said. “Ingrid will change them out when they cool.”

“Show me how to do it and I'll change them,” I said. “I need to learn.”

He nodded. “Yes, that's a good idea.” He paused, and then went on. “Emmeline, you know they will be searching for you, don't you?”

I nodded.

“They need to find you, to punish you as an example. If they don't, then they know that others might try to escape. They can't lose control. If they lose control, they lose power. And power and control are all they have.” His eyes were piercing, as though he wanted to see into my thoughts. “I just want you to be aware of the danger.”

Aware?
Of course I was aware. They took my mother. They were going to take my baby. Aware? No one could be any more aware of the danger than I was! But I didn't say that to him.

“I just don't want to think about it or talk about it,” I told him.

“I know what you're saying. Believe me, I know. But later, we must talk. We must plan. Planning and preparation, that's the key.”

“I have no plan.” The only plan I ever had was for the four of us to escape. And that wasn't really a plan. It was desperation. Paul had never lived in a Compound. How could he understand?

“You have that bundle of things. That must have been part of a plan.”

“Not really. They're things my mother saved for me. I don't know why or how but she did. I wanted to save what she thought was important.”

Ingrid inspected David's arm. “It looks a little better already,” she announced proudly. Micah and I moved closer to watch. His arm did look somewhat better, not quite as red. But it was still far from healed.

“Ingrid, why don't you make him some tea of wild thyme. It will bring his fever down. When you pick the leaves, show them to Emmeline before you make the tea so she knows what they look like.” She nodded and set off in search for the leaves.

“How long do you think it will take for his arm to heal?” I asked Paul.

“A good week, probably. The compresses and thyme tea will help.”

“A week! That long?” I wanted to be far from here with the Compound well behind us in a week.

“A week's rest will do you all good. Let's use the time wisely and
share what we know, teach each other. May I see what's in your bundle?” Paul asked.

I nodded.

“Wait,” Paul said. “Before we do that, I want to put some of nature's healing product on his arm while the skin is still warm.” He disappeared into the cave and came back with something thick and golden in a small container. He put a dab of it on a spoon for me to taste. Oh, so sweet, so good! “It's honey. Made by bees. And the bees were made by God.”

I promised myself to find out more about this God thing. Father would get angry with Mother when she said that word. I always figured that it was because it was bad. There were plenty of bad words that we weren't allowed to say.

Paul took another spoon and began to apply the honey all along the open wound.

“Let me do that.” I took the spoon from him and spread the thick honey on David's arm.

“The earth is filled with precious things like this,” Paul said. “You know, honey is a food that never spoils. But if you're using it as medicine, you don't want to put your fingers in it. Might take on some germs.”

By the time I was done, Ingrid had returned, and Paul was helping me wrap a dry cloth around David's forearm once more. “There. Now we can look at your treasures.”

I opened the bundle from the farm commune first. The basin, sanitizing solution, a small sheet of rubber, and linens lay in a jumble. I felt no attachment to these things but Micah spoke up with pride.

“I helped her get those things,” Micah announced. “We had to run through the water.”

I pulled at the knot of the other bundle, slowly releasing the tension of it. The cloth fell aside in gentle folds and there they were: the things Mother had saved—the only possessions I cared about. I picked the
items up, one at a time, and handed them to Paul. First, the gold coin. He turned it over and over, then handed it to Ingrid.

“That's a valuable thing, that gold coin. Worth a lot. Gold was confiscated, you know.”

“Confiscated?”

“Taken from the people. The Authorities got the gold. All of it. That's what Authorities do. Take from the people and make themselves rich.”

I wondered how Mother had managed to keep the coin from being confiscated. I'd never know the answer to that.
Why didn't you teach me more, Mother?

“That coin might save your life someday,” Paul said. “You can exchange it for something more important. Many things are more important than gold.”

“Who would I exchange it with and why?”

“There might still be others out there. They might be like us or not like us. Who knows? And they might still value something like this,” Paul said, handing the coin to Ingrid.

Ingrid studied the coin briefly, then handed it back to me.

The matches were unearthed next.

“Ah! Matches! We have a large supply of those. Fire is a necessary thing. Especially in winter. It can be a lifesaver. It can also be dangerous. Lots of things are like that, either good or dangerous, depending on how you use them.” Paul handed the matches back to me. He was right. After all, the fire back at the Social Update Stage had helped us escape. It had been good for us, but dangerous for the Authorities.

The knife. “That's a very good thing to have.” He snapped it open and closed and offered it to Ingrid, but she shook her head no. She had her own knives in the cave. This was not a novelty to her.

The recipe cards. Ingrid took special interest in them, reading each one. “Pumpkin pie. I used to make that. Except I put a splash of vinegar in the crust.”

The New Testament. Paul dipped his hands in a pan of water and dried them vigorously before picking it up. Ingrid reached for it but Paul didn't hand it over. “Your hands are dirty,” he said. “This is very precious.” He held it up for her to see from a distance, then raised it near his lips as if to kiss it. I again promised myself that someday, when we were done hiding, I would read this book.

The Little Prince
. They weren't interested in that. It got a casual glance and then came right back to me.

The map. They were
very
interested in that. Paul opened it carefully and spread it out on the ground in front of us. The fold lines were weak, tearing apart. Words that had been printed on it had faded. Most were illegible. “We're here.” Paul said, pointing with authority to the upper-right corner. “It used to be called Pennsylvania. Don't know what they renamed it. It'll always be Pennsylvania to me. See that skinny, wavy line?”

He pointed and yes, I could see that line. “That's our river.” He pointed to the water below us and to our left. “Now follow that line.” He traced it, his finger hovering above the map. “See how it gets a little wider and then joins up with this line? This bigger line, darker-colored?” Again, I nodded. “Well, keep following that line. It's another river.”

“And look here.” He moved his hand, still hovering, not wanting to touch the fragile paper. “Another river. See how the two rivers meet, here.” He pointed to a V shape. “They join and form an even larger, mightier river. It flows across the nation, growing larger, joined by other streams along the way.” He moved his finger back in the direction of our stream. “There used to be a dam not far from here. It created a lake of water that people could go boating, fishing, and swimming on. The government tore it down. Tore down a lot of dams from what I heard way back when. Said it was so the water and fish would be free.” He sighed. “Water and fish would be free but people would not.”

I wondered where the river would lead us if we followed it.

He leaned back on his heels and looked at me, directly and with intensity, but said nothing for a long moment. Then: “What part of the map is important to you?”

His question was as sharp as a knife. My chest hurt thinking of the distance to that place. I pointed to the spot, far away on this map, where I was born, and where I lived with my parents before the relocations.

“Kansas. I was born there.”

He sighed deeply. “That's an impossible distance, Emmeline. Impossible.”