Since Tomorrow

by Morgan Nyberg

  “The first people who moved into the domicile with me were Tyrell and his mom and dad and old Mrs. Chow. That first winter we lived on food we found in houses where the people had died. We made our fires outdoors and burned wood we tore out of the houses, or dead branches off the trees. There were a lot of trees then. We drank water from the river. In the spring we planted spuds. More people came. Brittany. Daniel. Jessica. Others, who are sleeping here now.” Without turning he swept his arm to indicate the sprawl of graves. As if that were a signal the rain fell harder.

  “My daughter, Zahra, was born halfway round the world in a place called Dubai, a place that was the worst of the good times. In the good times we wanted too much, you see, and Dubai wanted more than too much. I came home and built my boat, and for a while Zahra floated with Susan and me on an ocean that doesn’t seem to know much about change, while on land the good times were falling apart. She grew up here on this farm, a child of this fertile ground. And time went on, and we tried to make something good out of what was left to us.

  “One day Steveston came, with something from the Parts Crew. It was four wheels for a wagon that Daniel had built for us. Steveston was pulling the same cart you see BC and Wind pulling when they come by this way – when they used to come by this way – they won’t be coming any more. Zahra was pretty well grown by that time, and I’ve never seen a handsomer young man than Steveston was. And they saw each other, and… well. Next day Steveston came back without the cart. He says, ‘You finished that wagon yet?’ I said, ‘No, Daniel is still working on it.’ He says, ‘Maybe I’ll give Daniel a hand.’ I just smiled and nodded.”

  Frost was quiet for a minute. The rain hissed on the grass and splashed on the grave markers. Noor’s soft crying blended with the whisper of the wind as it rose and fell.

  “That was my welcome for Steveston. And this is my goodbye.”

  Now the rain fell in straight heavy shafts.

  “I want to say to all of you – I especially want to say to you, Steveston -” he looked down into the grave, where a half-inch of water had pooled around the plastic-wrapped corpse – “that I’m sorry. In spite of everything, in spite of life being awful, like Jessica says, life was at the same time good for quite a long time. But now….” He tried again. “But now….”

  Frost went to the pile of earth beside the grave of Willow and took a large handful of dirt and stood and stretched out his arm and let the dirt trickle from his hand. It rattled loudly on the polyethylene. He said “Goodbye Willow.” He looked at his hand and brushed some remaining mud into the grave. He went to Steveston’s grave and repeated the rite.

  People turned to look at Noor and Will. But Will did not go forward to drop earth on his father, and Noor remained beside her brother. So one by one the other residents of Frost’s farm dropped their offerings of earth into the graves. Then they wandered away from the graveyard.

  Noor wiped her eyes and kissed her brother on the head and found her weapons and trotted toward the bridge.

  Soon Will went closer to watch his grandfather filling the first grave. But he stood far enough away that he could not see where the dirt landed. King stood at the lip of Willow’s grave, keenly watching shovelfuls of earth splash on the plastic. Of the others only Grace now remained. Like someone who felt she did not belong she had been standing back from the rest. She had not come forward to offer earth to the dead. Frost stopped shoveling for a few seconds and watched her until she walked away in the direction of the clinic. Of her and Frost and Will and the dog, she seemed to be the only one who knew it was pouring rain.

  45

  Frost said “Do you think you could make it so it can scoop water when the tide is going in either direction?”

  Daniel Charlie said “That’s a bit of a design problem. I’ll think about it.”

  “The water won’t have any salt in it?”

  “No, the salt water is heavier, so it sinks. By the time the tide gets this far up the river the salt water is on the bottom.”

  “Can you attach the flywheel?”

  “No problem.”

  They were standing on the riverbank near the unfinished water wheel.

  “Could we have it working by the summer?”

  “Sure. When all this is over.”

  Frost nodded. “Yes, when it’s…. Daniel?”

  “What?”

  “That day the dogs were poisoned – who all was with Jessica when she cut up the rabbits?”

  “Granville.”

  “Anyone else? Was Brandon there?”

  “I think Jessica said he was there. Being a pest. Watching her work. Singing some stupid song.”

  “No one else?”

  “Grace. Grace was helping cut them up. Jessica said she was good at it.” After a second he looked sharply at Frost, but Frost turned away and walked down to the water’s edge. Daniel Charlie followed him.

  Frost was staring across at the big building near the foot of Fundy’s Bridge. He said “I think we’d better attack. We could surprise them. They’d never expect us to attack.”

  “They’d use Wing’s women for shields.”

  “There aren’t that many women.”

  “They’d kill them, then.”

  “Then they wouldn’t have any shields.”

  Daniel Charlie said “Either way Wing’s women die.”

  “Tyrell would say attack.”

  “Tyrell would always say attack. He’d say we could rescue the women. But we couldn’t. They would die.”

  Frost nodded again, said “I wonder if there’s another way.”

  There was a sound somewhere behind them, grass bending under a foot, an exhalation of breath. They turned. It was Granville. He was trying to smile, showing his five rotted teeth.

  Daniel Charlie said “Where the hell did you come from?”

  Granville cleared his throat and said “I can be quiet when I have to.”

  Nothing about him had changed since that evening when Frost and Daniel Charlie and the guards stood among dead dogs and vomit and diarrhea, watching Granville disappear down the bridge. His mat of red hair was a little longer now, as was his sparse golden beard.

  Frost said, " “Did Langley send you?”

  Before Frost finished the question Granville was already shaking his head. He looked afraid. He said “I ain’t seen Langley.”

  “You been with his men?”

  Granville shook his head vigorously.

  Frost and Daniel Charlie stood looking at him. After a minute Frost said “Well?”

  “Yeah, I know, Frost. I mean…. I mean….”

  “It was you poisoned my dogs, wasn’t it?”

  “No, Frost, no.”

  “Stop shaking your god damn head. Why’d you run off?”

  Granville cowered, looked down. He was trembling.

  Frost said, more softly “Just tell me where you went. Come on, we’ll walk.”

  Frost and Daniel Charlie, with Granville between them, walked slowly toward the domicile. No one spoke for a few minutes. Then Granville said “I know you think it was me. ’Cause I brung the meat. You think Langley give me skag and I poisoned your dogs for him.”

  Frost said “Yes, that’s right. You brought the meat. And you were there when it was cut up.”

  “That’s true too. But it wasn’t me.” Granville stopped, looked at Frost, gripped his arm. “I’m a citizen, Frost. You helped me. I wouldn’t do nothin’ to hurt you.”

  Frost seemed affected by the claim. “Well then, where were you?”

  “I was in the burbs. I made a little house out of branches and that green stuff.”

  “Moss?”

  “And I come back and snuck into the spud room to get spuds to eat.”

  “King didn’t bark?”

  “King knows me. I’m the guy who brings the meat.”

  Daniel Charlie said “Jesus Christ. It must’ve been cold.”

  “Cold. You can say that again.”

  Frost said “Why’
d you come back if you were scared?”

  “No, that’s right, too. But I’m a citizen, Frost. I come to help.”

  “Help.”

  “Yeah, Frost. I can help.”

  “You look like you’ve been thinking about this.”

  “I been thinkin’, Frost. I can help. I got an idea.”

  “You?”

  “I got an idea, Frost.”

  “Well, tell me.”

  “I can get into Langley’s buildin’ where Wing’s women are.”

  Granville waited for a response, but both Frost and Daniel Charlie just gaped. He continued “I can find out stuff. Maybe I can even get them women out.”

  Frost and Daniel Charlie exchanged glances. Daniel Charlie said “Do you know how dangerous that would be?”

  Granville shrugged, said “Yeah, that’s true too. You can say that again.” He shrugged once more.

  Frost said “I have to discuss your idea with Daniel. Right now I want you to go over to Fundy’s. Those other two addicts will be thinking you ran off to get skag. Tell them you didn’t. Tell them you came back because you want to help out. But don’t tell them your idea. Don’t tell anyone.”

  “Oh, no way, Frost. You can say that again.”

  Granville headed off toward Fundy’s. Frost and Daniel Charlie circled the domicile eight times, walking slowly, discussing Granville’s proposal. Then Daniel Charlie headed back toward the river, and Frost went to the clinic.

  He closed the door behind him and stood for a minute looking around the interior. The white sheet still covered the couch. There was a litre bottle half full of alcohol. The hacksaw, the knife and the pliers were on a shelf, and on another shelf the plastic basin and the pages from medical books. There was no skag powder and no bottle of skag-in-water. There was no plastic bag of bandages.

  Grace was crouching by the fireplace, where embers glowed and flickered.

  Frost said “I’ll distil some more alcohol for you. You ought to find some cloth for more bandages. Why don’t you cut up this sheet?”

  Grace stood. The light from the window in the north wall made her wrinkles conspicuous. The skin seemed to adhere to the bone beneath, revealing the shape of her skull.

  Frost said “You’ve lost weight. Are you all right?”

  She smiled and came to Frost and hugged him, with her face turned away. She said “I should eat more. I know. I’ll try.” Her shaky voice was weak. She pulled the sheet from the couch, which was a dull olive green with a raised pattern. The cushions were collapsed but not torn. “Yes. I’ll wash this and cut it up. We don’t need it on the couch.” She dropped the sheet on the table and sat beside Frost on the couch.

  Frost said “We’ve got to be ready. Alcohol, bandages, whatever else we might need.”

  “I know, Frost. We’ll be ready. I promise.”

  She leaned against him, and he put his arm around her.

  He said “If we lose you’ve got to run away. Go back to South.”

  “We won’t lose. You’re too smart. Anyway, I won’t leave you.”

  “You would die for me?” He pulled away from her slightly so he could look at her. But again she turned her face away.

  “I would, Frost. We all would. We all love you. What would this farm be without you? What would any of us be without you?” Now she looked at him. Her smile was trembling. She rubbed his chest, kissed it. “You can win, Frost. You can do it.”

  He said “Granville came back.”

  She stiffened. She stopped rubbing. She did not look up. She rose, went to the table, started folding the sheet. She said “Did he poison the dogs?”

  “Yes.”

  She paused, then finished folding the sheet. She laid it again on the table. She leaned on it. She looked out the window at the sallow light. “That’s what everyone thought. But why did he come back?”

  Frost stood. “He thought he could lie.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ve already sent him away. I had to, or the others might have killed him when they found out.”

  She turned to him. She was beaming. The smile was firm and real. “I’ll need some scissors.”

  Frost nodded. She stepped quickly to him and kissed him on the lips. He went out.

  As he entered the domicile he looked back. Grace was standing half hidden by a corner of the clinic, watching him.

  Slowly he climbed the dark stairs to her floor. He stood for a long time in the dim corridor outside her door. His thumbs were hooked in the twine belt of his trousers. He appeared to be looking down at the floor, or perhaps listening to the sounds of the domicile. A child crying. Voices. Coughing. Jessica came from somewhere and stood beside him. She said “What’s wrong, Frost?” He did not answer or look at her, even when she laid a hand on his shoulder. So she went away. The sound of her footsteps faded in the stairwell. Frost pushed aside the plastic curtain and entered Grace’s room.

  He lifted an edge of the mattress and bent and picked up a small black plastic bag. He dropped the mattress and peered into the bag and saw a fistful of powder.

  46

  When Frost came out of the domicile it was raining. He stopped on the steps and sighed and hung his head for a minute. Then he went and harnessed Beauty and hitched her to a small wagon. He climbed onto the seat and drove to the clinic and waited. Grace came out. She said “Please, Frost.” Frost did not look at her. Then he did. He saw an expression on her face he had never seen before. It was the expression of someone he did not know. He looked away. They were silent for quite a long time, she standing there looking up at him, he staring straight ahead. The rain pattered on the boards of the wagon’s box. Without turning he nodded slightly, and she came around and climbed up and sat on his right. He twitched the reins, and they started out.

  They went up onto the trail that ran beside the old freeway. They headed south through the rain. They saw nobody. There were no birds and no rabbits. The coyotes were quiet. The wet brush and mounds of blackberry vine stretched away as far as they could see, punctuated here and there by chimneys. Occasionally there was a small meadow. Beauty’s hooves fell like a pulse on earth softened by rain. Grace was quiet. Frost did not look at her.

  They passed the tall building just east of the trail. It leaned but not as much as the domicile. Now there was nothing but the desolate scrub-grown plain of the delta. To the east rose the towers and span of Nobody’s Bridge. Frost felt the wagon seat trembling, but he did not turn to Grace. She said in her torn voice, almost screaming “Frost, I’m sorry!” She gripped his arm so hard that he winced. With his free, left hand he seized her wrist and pulled her hand loose. “I’m sorry! Please!” Without putting her hands to her face she sobbed. It sounded like she was shouting. Beauty looked back and snorted.

  After a few minutes Grace was quiet. She hissed “It’s your fault, Frost. You shouldn’t have put me in the clinic. You knew I wasn’t strong.” She glared at him, but he did not turn. “It’s your fault, and now I’m going to die alone out here.”

  Frost said nothing, and Grace began to cry again, but more quietly. Finally she quit, and like Frost she stared straight ahead.

  Frost said “Whoa" and Beauty stopped. Frost and Grace sat there on the wagon seat staring ahead into the rain for several minutes. Then Frost nodded. After another minute Grace climbed down from the wagon.

  Frost turned the wagon and headed north, the way they had come. He had gone perhaps a hundred yards when he heard Grace calling behind him. “Frost, I’m sorry! Please don’t hate me!”

  He did not turn.

  “Frost, I love you!”

  Frost’s face contorted, and his shoulders shook. He snapped the reins to make Beauty go a little faster.

  47

  The rain had stopped. Daniel Charlie was standing at the top of the old exit, where the trail swung down onto Frost’s farm. Solemnly he watched Frost pass. Frost did not look at him, and neither of them spoke. Daniel Charlie followed the wagon toward the domicile.
At the front of the building Frost got down and went in the entrance. Daniel Charlie led Beauty away with the wagon.

  Will was waiting outside the door of their apartment. Frost said nothing to him. Will followed him in and said “Is Grace gone?” Frost went and opened a cupboard and took out a green plastic bottle, almost empty. He left the apartment. As he passed Will he said “Yes, she’s gone.”

  “Was it her who poisoned the dogs?”

  Frost nodded. He went down the dim corridor to the end, where the spud room was. Across from the spud room there was a wooden door with a lock on it. It was a corroded combination lock with the numbers almost worn away. He opened the lock and slipped it into the pocket of his tunic and pushed the door open. The hinges creaked loudly.

  The window in the far wall was shuttered like the one in the spud room. Frost opened one of the shutters. Then he went back and pushed the door shut. Below the window sat the still in its mortared fire-pit. Nearby on the floor sat a large white plastic container. It had a wide red lid upon which rested a blue funnel. TOMATO KETCHUP was on the side in faint red letters.