The Water Wars

by Cameron Stracher

  “Very well,” he said, eyeing the dog. “We understand you’ve just had an interesting adventure with some of our friends on the coast.”

  “You know all about it,” I said.

  “Yes.” The administrator tried to smile, but his teeth prevented his lips from closing. “And we know all about your friend as well.”

  “Kai?”

  “Finds water with his nose. Very useful.”

  “You saw the wi-cast. He can find hidden aquifers.”

  “How fortunate for the republic. To have this valuable resource right here—in our own town.”

  “Yes,” I said cautiously.

  “Not the sort of thing you’d want to waste. By sharing him with another republic, for example.”

  “That aquifer runs all the way to Minnesota,” I said. “And the water that’s in it falls from the sky. No one owns it.”

  “But you’re wrong,” said the administrator. “The Canadians own it. And the Minnesotans. And the Europeans too.” A tiny fleck of blood darkened his lower lip. “Why shouldn’t we take what’s rightfully ours?”

  “Because it’s not rightfully ours.”

  “The boy lives in Illinowa. In Arch. He can make us all wealthy.”

  “It’s that kind of thinking that turned the forests to deserts.”

  “Don’t be naïve, girl. You’ll never get the rivers flowing. Your friend Kai needs to help his own people, and we need your help convincing him.”

  I shook my head. Now I knew why the administrator was here, and why the men had been following Kai at the gaming center. But I would never help him steal the water for himself. I told him none of us would.

  “You’re making a mistake,” he said. “One you will regret.”

  Ulysses raised his gun, but I silenced him. “No,” I said. “It’s you who’ve made the mistake, taking what doesn’t belong to you. Now we need you to leave.”

  “You heard Vera. Leave.” Ulysses motioned to the door with his gun, and Sula shoved the man in front of her. Cheetah started barking, and the administrator scampered backward.

  “Think about it,” he said, as he stumbled out the door. “You won’t have another chance.”

  “Neither will you.”

  Then I slammed the door behind him.

  Our father watched this, wide-eyed and pale. But Will comforted him. “He can’t do anything. Otherwise he wouldn’t have come here.”

  “I hope you’re right,”

  “Kai, Will, and Vera are heroes,” said Ulysses reassuringly. “The politicians will think twice before making them enemies.”

  I told our father then about facing down Torq in the gaming center, and how Ulysses and Sula had saved our lives. Cheetah jumped up and licked our father’s face, nearly knocking him over. He was startled at first, but then his face softened. A real dog slobbering before him, protecting his two lost children, brought tears to his eyes. He never imagined he would see such things. Yet here we were. Alive, safe, home.

  “You must tell your mother.”

  He invited everyone inside, but Ulysses and Sula, observing old customs, insisted they would remain outside with the dog. Something flickered between them, ancient and familiar, and it made my heart ache.

  “We’ll be right back,” I promised.

  “Don’t hurry,” said Ulysses. “We’re not going anywhere.”

  Our father led us deeper into the house. It was dark and hushed. Even the wireless was silent. “Rose! Rose!” he called. “You have visitors.”

  We walked down the hallway and into our mother’s room. The shades were drawn, but behind them glowed the suffused light from outdoors—red and gold, the colors of autumn. Will stopped as if he might fling them open. But I pushed him along, and he let it go.

  We went to the bedside where our mother slept fitfully. The pillows were scattered behind her like whitecaps on waves. Her face was freckled and pale, and her red hair was pulled back tightly in a bun. A few stray wisps danced at the edges of her mouth.

  I touched her arm, and her eyes flickered, then opened. She looked up and smiled as if we had never been gone. “Will. Vera,” she said. “I’m so thirsty.”

  “We brought you some water,” I said.

  Then I filled a glass and helped her drink.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Cameron Stracher is the author of Dinner with Dad and Double Billing and a novel, The Laws of Return. He has written for the New York Times, the New York Times Magazine, and the Wall Street Journal, among other publications. When he is not writing, he is a media lawyer who represents newspapers, magazines, and television producers in defamation, privacy, intellectual property, and related matters. A graduate of Amherst College, Harvard Law School, and the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, he lives with his wife, two children, and two dogs in Connecticut. Email him at: thewaterwars@gmail.com.