“It can’t be any tougher than the last,” replied Maria.
“He means for the crops,” I said.
“I know what he means.”
She took my hand and held it tightly.
“It’s so beautiful out here,” she said. “I didn’t used to think I could live in a place like this.”
“Me neither,” Sarah laughed. “Now look at us. Is this what it means to lose everything?”
“Not everything,” Paul replied, still gazing into the orange glow to the west. I took another sip of wine as the light dimmed, and we were all quiet for a while. Far below, a family of deer grazed in an open field, and above them, a skein of geese sailed northward, calling to one another as they passed us by.
“If we’re going to stay out here, we’ll need more wine,” said Sarah, breaking the silence. “Maria, come with me.”
My wife reluctantly released my hand, and the two of them left Paul and me on the bluff.
“It’s still the same, mostly,” he said after some time.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“The world, I mean. The sun still rises and sets. Rain still falls. The trees still grow and abscise with the changing seasons. I like deciduous trees for that. They grow until the winter gets too cold, and then they shed their leaves. They stick around for rough times, dormant but alive and present. Come spring, they begin to grow again, from right where they left off.”
“It’s a rough life,” I replied. “Isn’t it?”
“I think it can be. But they can bear it. And aren’t you glad they do?”
He opened his hand toward the vast forest in the distance that provided us with fresh air, food, and shelter, asking nothing in return.
“I am glad they do. It’s like Heaven up here.”
“Some call it that. Some call it nirvana—paradise even. Others just call it ‘the way the world should be.’”
“How do you think it happened?” I asked.
“It was a long time coming, I think. We knew what was wrong, but sometimes people need a push to make a change. The two most defining characteristics of human nature are in constant conflict: our quest for love and our obsession with power. The question is, which will be allowed to prevail?”
“I like to think we’ve answered that question.”
“It’s answered every day in everything we do. There’s no single moment when one conquers the other, but an endless battle that rages on day after day. We learn something from every trial, and we can only hope those lessons lead us in the right direction.”
“Sometimes I’m ashamed of the things I do,” I said. “The more I consider my life, the more I realize how often I make choices that aren’t representative of who I am. It’s excruciatingly difficult for most of us to live according to our own beliefs—to practice what we preach, so to speak. So we become hypocrites.”
“You’re not alone there, my friend. The important thing is that you recognize your faults and use them to better yourself. Every generation is accused of unflattering things by the one before it. I remember when they called us lazy and apathetic.” Paul laughed. “Civilizations evolve and collapse, for better or for worse. Cultures and styles do the same. We tend to forget as much as we learn, but human nature doesn’t change.”
“We never knew what we had.”
“That’s the way it goes,” he replied. “Until you have to earn something—really earn it—you don’t truly understand its value, even if it was right in front of you the whole time.”
“I heard all sorts of theories while I was away. Mostly, they said the collapse was caused by a lack of faith. Presumably, they meant faith in the economy, the government, faith even in each other. But perhaps it was a lack of faith in something even greater. Sometimes the moments when all seems lost are precisely when the greatest faith is found. It’s these moments that define who we are and where we go once we’ve dug our way through to the other side.”
“Perhaps you’re right.”
“How ironic that we always associated such a collapse with the end of the world. It turned out to be the beginning.”
Paul smiled, still watching the sun fall behind the hills as the indigo-colored sky crept over our heads.
“It’s time to forget what we’ve left behind and reach forward to what lies ahead.”
A native of St. Louis, Missouri, Curtis Krusie graduated from the University of Missouri with a BS in human environment sciences, with an emphasis in personal financial planning and a minor in architectural studies and environmental design. An avid photographer, music fanatic, and great admirer of architecture, he is also an advocate for green energy and design, as well as natural, holistic health. He and his wife, Bryn, enjoy traveling the world and running full and half marathons together.
A firm believer in the healing and redeeming power of faith, love, and hope, Krusie was inspired to write his debut novel, The World as We Know It.
The World as We Know It Page 25
