Thoughts from the Rock
Page 7
The one who seemed to be in charge walked up to where I was sitting and said “Mr. White you are under arrest for violations of The Liberty Act.” He sneered at me as they put a black bag on my head and led me to a truck outside. I was knocked out in the truck but what I assume was the butt of a rifle.
I awoke in a dark cell on a concrete floor. My hands were still bound and my head was aching from the nasty blow I had suffered earlier. The door to my cell opened and the light hurt my eyes, I could see the silhouette of an imposing man.
“Well look whose awake, I’ve been looking forward to interrogating you, Mr. White. You union boys are always such a pleasure for me, I like to watch you eventually crack and give me every bit of information I want just for a bullet in the head or a sip of water.”
“You will get no such satisfaction from me you fascist fucking pig.” I replied, I am not really sure how long they tortured me. I no longer had a sense of time every last bit of my consciousness was being centered on keeping my sanity and not giving in to my captors demands. Finally another man came to me and told me I was being sent to the RRLC for reeducation and repatriotization.
Jeff and I met my 15th day inside of the camp. We were both put on the same work detail constructing new barracks for the ever expanding camp. On our “lunch breaks” we would all start to chat a little and Jeff and I quickly found that we had a lot in common, both being from liberal families and being captured and treated in the same manner. “Boy I would love to escape this place” Jeff said.
“Yeah me too” I replied. “How do you suppose we do that?” I asked. “Well my grandfather made me watch a movie when I was a child of a situation much like this, the people were locked in a Nazi prison camp and bound by their duty as officers were determined to escape their captors at all costs.” “How did it work out for them?” I asked.
“Not too good they were almost all caught and shot, but they did make it out of the camp.” He replied. “Ok, so where do we begin?” “We need to start finding the other revolutionaries and start organizing people and weed out the ones that will not be loyal to the cause.” With our mutual talents and experiences in our former occupations we were naturally the prime candidates to start the revolution.
I began to put my organizing skills into action. I found every former revolutionary I could find; union members, liberal clergy, former military, foreigners who had not been allowed to go home, mostly Canadians, and Norwegians. I would tell them of our plan to dig tunnels out of the camp and most of them jumped at the chance, especially the union coal miners who were thrilled to get back underground where things made sense to them. The clergy were watched very closely, especially the Catholics who were oppressed by the new conservative protestant regime. They spent most of their day praying with the dying prisoners trying to console them and preparing them for the afterlife. I remember walking by one and heard him praying a Muslim prayer to a dying man; I was shocked and filled with hope for our future.
The tunnels were being started and all was going good, well as good as it could go inside of a prison camp. Then one morning they cut off our food. A voice came over the loud speaker “Today we begin a 30 day fast for purity. Those of you who wish to turn from your wicked ways will be fed, and those of you who will not, will perish.” With that we knew we had to speed up our efforts and escape was now our only chance of survival.
In a secret meeting I got in front of everyone and said “Comrades the time has come for us to double our efforts, our captors seek to starve us out. Do not succumb to their wickedness take not one bite of their food. We need to continue to dig. Our food will be the sustenance of freedom when we escape these walls and are reunited with our loved ones.” The clergy doubled their efforts of finding scraps of food to give to the weakest ones among us.
It was one week into the liberty fast when the same voice came over the loudspeaker “The liberty fast continues inmates, turn from your wicked ways and you will be given all of the food you can eat.” We lost 15 men that day who crossed the line to get their food but no one talked of the plan to escape. I asked one of the miners “how long until we have these tunnels done?”
He replied “Two days”
“Thank you, I will spread the word.” Two days later the exodus started.
The men of 6 bunkhouses began to shuffle into the tunnels. Each one had high expectations of escaping the camp, of getting out of the country, to our neighbor to the north. Collins had been the only one getting messages out of the camp and back in. He was able to contact a sympathizer who had come up with a plan to help some of us to escape in a couple of semi-trucks.
Everything was going well. We had about 200 men out of the camp when the alarms came on. The night officer started the nightly check on barracks 5 about an hour before usual. He noticed that there was nobody inside and sounded the alarm.
The spotlights started looking all over the camp. There were dogs running and starting to head in our direction. We needed a distraction to keep them off of us for just a few more minutes.
Jeff snuck along the tree line to the other side of the camp and ran out drawing their attention in the opposite direction, he sacrificed himself and any chance of ever seeing his wife again (Crack, Crack) the sound of the guns rang out and Jeff fell to his knees clutching his chest where the bullets had penetrated his chest, we were given enough time to get the last man and myself on to the sympathizers truck and escaped into the night thanks to the courage of my dear friend and comrade. Now every time I look upon my wife’s face I am reminded of my brave comrade who sacrificed his own life to save so many others.
One year later the conservative regime fell due to the help from the United Nations the camps were liberated and the people who made it through were released. Suzanne was among them, I told her of the courage that her husband had and of how he had saved so many lives. Not all of us made it out but the ones that did owe our lives to the brave ACLI leader who gave his life for our freedom.
“It’s never too late”
by Danielle Wilson
I stood there and watched him walk away. I felt the tears stinging in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not here, not in front of all my friends. Drew was my life. He was my rock and my loser in tin foil. He had my heart locked away so that even I couldn't find it. I truly and honestly believed he was my soul mate. But none of that mattered now. He was leaving and we'd barely gotten to explore what was between us. It hadn't even been three months since we finally admitted to each other that we had feelings for each other and we were losing it. Everything was falling apart right before my eyes, but I couldn't be the reason he lost an opportunity.
I looked around to my friends. Sarah of course looked sympathetic. She wanted to hug me and tell me that I'd find another guy, a better guy, but she knew better. Kyle looked anxious, but he stood there holding Sarah. Collin was hard to read for most people, but I barely glanced at him and knew he was pissed. He was assuming Drew had left because of me, which in all honesty, might be completely true. He never did give me a full answer as to why he was leaving. He sort of just sprang it on me that he was.
I turned away from my friends. I walked right past them all not saying a single word. I walked through the gate in Sarah's fence that separated her back yard from the Country Club golf course. I felt numb. Like someone had slapped me a million times over and over. Not even bothering to stop and rest their hand. I wandered through the dark golf course. Although I didn't realize it, my subconscious had led me to one of the greens. I stood for a minute staring at the Country Club. It looked eerily similar to the way it looked just a couple months back. The fog settled around the building looking just like Boo's Castle from Mario Kart. Realizing this similarity to that night hit the mark. I dropped to my knees at the very same spot I stood with him a couple months ago and broke down.
Whether it had been minutes or hours, I didn't know. No one had come looking for me
yet, which made me think it hadn't been that long. However, if I knew my friends at all, they wouldn't come looking for at least three hours. Sarah probably knew exactly where I was anyway. She probably knew where I was headed before I even knew. I sat on the green hugging my legs to my chest with my head sitting on my knees. I felt the tears dry on my face. My nose was stuffy and I knew if I looked in a mirror my face would be blotchy and my eyes red and puffy. I wiped my eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie. With his haste to leave after our argument he forgot to take it back. Secretly, I was glad he forgot it. I needed something, something more than my memories of him. Something that would remind me he was real and alive and very much part of my life.
After staring at the building for what felt like another hour, I stretched my legs out. I was planning on getting up and walking back to Sarah's house, but the position I sat in for so long made that impossible. My legs had fallen asleep. It was then that I realized exactly where I was. I thought I was going to cry again, but I didn’t. Instead I laid back feeling the cool grass against my skin in much the same ways I did that night. I laid there watching the stars with a sad smile on my face. I hated myself. I hated that I forced us to argue before he left. I wanted him to have a better life, and I knew it was going to be hard, but I did it anyway. I forced him to leave so he wouldn't back out. Even though it meant losing him, I knew he was better off without me holding him back. I knew this was what he wanted.
I heard him walking towards me, but I didn't bother moving. He came to a stop next to my head and looked down at me blocking my view of the sky.
“Hey.”
I laid there staring at him for a few seconds. Then I sat up, “Hey.”
He sighed, “I don't know what happened between you two, but you know I'm always here. No matter what it's about.”
The entire time he looked at the ground and pulled the grass up. I felt the tears come to my eyes and knew I wasn't going to be able to force them back or blink them away. Although I had considered Collin my best friend for about two years now, he had never seen me cry. I let the tears spill over without saying anything. He looked up at me and seeing the tears roll down my face he pulled me to him, hugging me as close as he possibly could. I cried even harder than I had when I sat there by myself.
After a while he stood up, pulling me with him. When I gave him a puzzled look he looked at me like I was crazy.
“Steph, it's almost 3 am. We're going back to my house and you're going sleep.”
Almost 3 am. I sat out here for almost 5 hours. I didn't argue with him and let him lead the way back to Sarah's house. When we got there Sarah hugged me tight.
“It'll be okay,” she whispered. “I know what you did. I know it was hard for you, but maybe it was for the best. He doesn't want to hurt you. He told me that.”
“I know he doesn't. And I don't want to hurt him either, but he has to find out if that's what he needs to do. He has to see if it's worth it, without me holding him back.”
She just hugged me again and promised that we would talk more later. She went inside and Collin and I walked to the front. I didn't even argue with him when he took my keys from me and got in the driver's seat. I just silently climbed into the passenger's seat. When we pulled up to his house I got out and walked over to the driver's side. I gave him a silent hug then reached to take the keys, but he pulled them away.
“Nope, you're staying here for the rest of tonight.”
“Collin, I'm fine. I can go home.”
He stared into my eyes and for the first time I saw why he was so adamant about me staying and why he was extremely worried about me going home.
“I'm not going to relapse, Collin. I promise, I will be fine.”
“I would feel much better if you stayed here. Please.”
He was begging me.
I sighed. “Okay. I'll stay here, but I'm going home in the morning.”
He smiled and pulled me inside. “That I can agree with.”
While Collin fed his cats and did a couple other things, I went down to his room. I slipped my jeans off and changed so I was just wearing Drew's hoodie. When Collin came down I was laying on the bed staring up at the ceiling.
“I know it's the last thing you want to hear, but it will be okay. Sarah and I are here for you and we'll make sure you get through this.”
I didn't reply to him. I just cuddled up close to him when he lay down and cried myself to sleep.
*7 years later*
“Awwh. Sarah, you look gorgeous. I love your dress. I cannot believe you're getting married,” I gushed as I hugged Sarah.
“I know. I'm so scared. What if it doesn't work out? Kyle and I aren't like you and Brad. You guys are so cute together.”
“No. You're not like Brad and I. You guys will never be like Brad and I.”
If only she knew the truth about Brad and I. There was no way they would ever be like us. They were truly in love.
“You guys are perfect for each other. You guys are more than just cute, you're frickin' adorable together.”
She ran her hands down the front of her dress smoothing out wrinkles that weren't there. I grabbed her hands and she looked up at me with her big, round eyes. “Stop. You look perfect, like you stepped right out of a bridal magazine. Besides you could walk down the aisle in jeans and a t-shirt and Kyle wouldn't care.”
She looked away from me. “What if he changes his mind?” she whispered, and then she looked back up at me. “What if he stops loving me?”
“Oh, Sarah. That'll never happen. Kyle loves you for you and he's never going to leave.”
“I second that,” came a voice from behind. “He was just telling me he's scared you're going to get smart and disappear.”
I froze, but Sarah screamed. “YOU'RE REALLY HERE!?” She ran up to him and hugged him, not caring about her dress now. My back was still to them, but I knew who it was. I knew his voice, even if I hadn't heard it in 7 years. It was a voice that was forever ingrained in my mind.
I stood up from the chair I had been sitting in and turned around. If they noticed, they didn't show it. She was gushing over him showing up because she hadn't expected it and he told her he wouldn't miss it for the world. It wasn't until Ema ran up and pulled on his pant leg that they came out of their own little world.
She batted her eyes up at him. “Who are you?” she asked in such a cute little kid voice that he smiled and crouched down to talk to her.
“My name is Drew. What's yours?”
“Ema,” she announced proudly, as if it was the most important name in the world. I couldn't stop the grin that came onto my face. “Ema-Lyn Rose Anderson,” she continued. It was pretty impressive for a 4 year-old to talk as well as she did. I noticed Drew's eyes flick to Sarah questioningly. It was only then that she glanced at me. He followed her gaze over to me and froze.
“Drew,” Sarah started, probably trying to prevent any awkwardness, “this is Ema-Lyn. She's my flower girl and Steph's daughter.”
Drew's eyes hadn't left me. He slowly stood back up. I almost stopped breathing. I couldn't believe he was here. After 7 years of silence. Not once did we talk. I felt the tears in my eyes already.
“I-I'm going to go, um, check and make sure they have JJ ready. Come on Ema.”
“But mommy, I want to stay here with Aunty Sarah.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, mostly to try to stop the tears.
“Steph,” Sarah whispered, then waited until I looked at her. “She's fine here. I promise.”
She looked sympathetic. She didn't realize how I was feeling. I just nodded and gave her a look that said we would talk later. I walked right past Drew without saying a word and avoiding eye contact. I knew if I looked into those deep beautiful eyes of his I would lose it. I walked out the door and stood against the wall, trying to calm myself.
After a minute I just barely heard Drew ask, “JJ...?” He left it an open ended question, but Sarah knew what he meant.
“JJ i
s her son. He's 6, almost 7, the ring bearer,”
“Well,” he said. I could hear the bitterness in his voice, “I guess she's got her perfect little family.”
I could just picture him pacing around the room. He always did that when he was upset or pissed off.
“Drew you can't blame her for moving on. Well trying to. She's still in love with you. No matter how much she denies it she is. I can see it in her eyes whenever your name is mentioned. The hurt, regret, sorrow, and the love she still has for you. She doesn't really want to be married to him. I think she only did it because she felt like she had to after she got pregnant. And he's horrible and treats her like crap.”
She knows?
“What do you mean he treats her like crap?” I was surprised to hear the warning tone in his voice.
“Well, he, uh,” I could picture her playing with her hands and looking at the floor, a tall tale sign she knew she said something she shouldn't have.
“Sarah. Tell me,” I knew he was standing right in front of her then.
“She says the marks are from work. Maybe they are. I mean she does climb around a lot on the rocks and stuff when she's taking pictures, but the bruises just don't seem right. She had a bruise on her arm a few weeks ago. She said she ran into a door frame, but it looked like a handprint.”
I could hear his intake of breathe. I couldn't listen anymore though. I couldn't believe she had noticed this much. I thought I was doing better at hiding this. I decided to really check on JJ and everyone else. We only had an hour until the ceremony was supposed to start.
When I got to the other room everyone was just finishing up last minute touches. I fixed JJ's tie and helped a couple of Sarah's bridesmaids with their makeup. Then Kyle pulled me away.
“Hey, is everything okay with Sarah?”
“Yes she's fine. She's with Drew.” I gave him a pointed look that clearly told him I was not happy about not being informed that he was invited. “A little heads up would have been nice.”
“We really didn't believe he'd actually show up.” Kyle still looked away, though. “Speaking of him, I need to tell you something.”