by Michael Bray
“What is this place?” he asked as they walked slowly down the hall.
“It used to be a school building. Now it’s where we sleep. There are only twelve of us here in the town right now, but it’s enough for us to get by.”
Ethan nodded, trying to shoo away memories of the way McCarthy had tried to lure him into feeling safe. They reached some steps and descended together, old wood creaking underfoot.
“We’ve been here for about two years now. Existing. Getting by. We don’t look for trouble and so far none has found us.”
She stopped on the steps and looked at him, one good eye penetrating into his. “You’re not trouble are you, Ethan?”
He shook his head, shocked by the directness of the question.
“No, I didn’t think so. I just wanted to ask you outright. Even with one eye, I can spot a lie pretty easily. I believe you.”
She went on, leading the way. They came out into a larger room that looked like it was once a hall of some kind. Tables were set up in a makeshift dining area. Beyond that, a rudimentary kitchen area.
“This is where we spend most of our nights. It’s not much, but it’s warm and dry. We make the best of it.”
Ethan looked at it. He could imagine it filled with people, friendly people who wouldn’t try to eat him or fatten him up.
“What do you do for food?” he asked.
“We fish.”
“Fish?” he repeated, then stopped and stared at her. “You’ve seen the ocean?”
“Of course. Haven’t you?”
“Never. It’s what I was trying to find when this happened.” He pointed to the bandage on his head.
She smiled at him. “Come with me,” she said, walking across the hall. At the end were two double doors. She stopped at them and turned back to him. “This could be your lucky day.”
She pushed open the doors, letting the diffused daylight pour in. Ethan blinked and stepped outside, letting his eyes adjust to the gloom. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe, his eyes unbelieving of the things they were seeing.
The schoolhouse was on a hill, a scattering of other buildings below it. All of them the same, faded wood, tired paint. People were moving around, going about their daily business. At the bottom of the hill was a dock, and beyond it, the ocean, stretching out into the distance as far as he could see. It wasn’t blue like in the postcard, it was a dull grey and dirty, but to see it there, an undulating mass of endless waves, filled him with a light giddiness he had never experienced before. He exhaled, realising he had forgotten to breathe. He stared at the water, realising that it was, without question, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He blinked and felt tears on his cheeks. He didn’t care. Nothing could spoil his perfect moment.
“Are you okay?” Betty asked.
He nodded. “It’s just…I didn’t expect…” The words wouldn’t come in any sort of sense. They were jumbled and incoherent even to him. All he could think about was the beauty of the ocean. It dawned on him that even though the world had been left a dying, ugly place of such wretched hopelessness, there was still some beauty left in it.
“Do you need a minute?” Betty asked.
“No, no, I’m okay, it’s just…It’s so beautiful.”
She looked at him, then at the water. “If you say so. To me, it’s nothing unusual. It’s where we get our food, that’s all.”
“You fish from the dock?”
“Not exactly. There’s time to go into that later.”
“Can I go take a closer look at it?” he asked.
“At the water?”
He nodded, unable to take his eyes from the undulating waves.
“Of course, you go take a look. I’ll tell the others you’re awake.”
They walked down the hill together, the dirt path winding around the shells of buildings that remained. As they neared the foot of the hill, Betty veered off towards a group of people who were watching from a distance, paying particular attention to Ethan. He barely noticed them. He walked to the dock, trembling as he got closer. He could hear it now, the ebb and flow of the water. He hoped it would look clearer as he approached, but it was just as dirty as it had appeared from the schoolhouse. He looked out at it, blinking back the sudden wetness in his eyes, then he fell to his knees and wept.
TWO
He was summoned to a meeting. They took him to a long hall with high shadow-covered ceilings. A rough table sat at one end behind which five people sat. He stood before them, hands clasped in front of him, feeling their eyes on him. Candles flickered in the corners of the room, giving it an ethereal, almost dream-like feel. Of the four who were seated, three he didn’t recognise. The three were men, two of them old and grizzled, eyes pale and mistrustful, they could have been related, such was the similarity of their appearance. The other man was younger. He looked like he had at one time been overweight, and although the harsh environment had caused him to shed the excess, he didn’t carry it well, several large folds of skin hanging loose on his jowls and neck. He had a thick beard, and his massive hands were folded on the table. With them was Betty. She stood and watched him carefully.
“How are you feeling?” the bearded man asked.
“Better, thanks.”
“Ethan, isn’t it?”
He nodded, flicking his eyes towards Betty. “Yes.”
“My name is Barnes. This is John Mannering.” He pointed to the first of the two men to his right. Mannering nodded, his face betraying no emotion.
“Next to him is Roy Glover. Despite what you may think, they are unrelated. They just happen to look alike,” Barnes said. “Of course, you already know Betty. She tells us you’re a good man, which is why we brought you here today.”
Ethan looked around the hall, then at Barnes. “This place you have here…”
“It’s functional,” Barnes said. “We work together and eke out a decent existence for ourselves. We stay out of trouble when we can and keep to ourselves.”
“That don’t mean we can’t look after ourselves if things get ugly,” Glover said.
Barnes glanced at the older man and smiled, showing the gap where his front teeth should have been. “You’ll have to excuse Roy, his manners aren’t what they used to be.”
“I’m not here to cause trouble,” Ethan said. “I just wanted to see the sea.”
Mannering snorted down his nose and glanced at Barnes.
“Something wrong?” Ethan asked.
“No, not at all. John, like all of us, is just wary of strangers, that’s all,” Barnes said
“You don’t have to worry. I’m not here to cause trouble.”
“You had a pretty nasty injury when we found you. Looks like trouble found you easily enough.”
“It did, but that wasn’t my fault. I trusted someone I shouldn’t have and…” He cleared his throat and lowered his eyes to the dusty floorboards. “I made a mistake and almost died for it.”
“Do you want to tell us about it?” Barnes asked.
Ethan didn’t know it if was some kind of trick question and shrugged his shoulders. “Not really. Like I said, I made a mistake.”
“Which is why we brought you here tonight. We can’t afford mistakes, not now. We’re building something out of the ashes of what went before. We have to be very particular about who we allow to stay with us,” Barnes replied. He was clearly the man in charge, and everyone seemed to respect him.
“I’m not looking for a free ride. I can help you, I can work,” Ethan said.
“What do you do?” Mannering asked.
“Anything. Whatever you ask. I just…I like it here. By the ocean, by the water. It’s…beautiful.”
Mannering looked at him, eyes glassy with uncertainty. “You pulling my chain, boy?”
“Sorry?” Ethan said.
“Easy, John, give him a break. He’s new around here. Try to keep that in mind.”
“Look, I don’t understand what you want from me,” Ethan said, glancing at them in tur
n. “I didn’t walk in here looking for help. You found me and brought me here, which I’m thankful for, you helped, me, bandaged me up, I just…I’ve spent so much time alone I don’t really know what you want me to say.”
“We just want to know about you,” Barnes replied. “Who you are, where you came from. How you survived. That’s the main thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, there’s a right way to survive, and a wrong way to survive. We only want people here who are interested in surviving the right way. If you went down that other route, then I don’t think there’s a future here for you.”
“So what do you want to know exactly?”
“Like I said, who are you? Where did you come from and how did you survive?”
They were all things that Ethan had no answers to. He wasn’t sure if what he was about to say were right or wrong, or the answers Barnes was even looking for, but he decided honesty was best, and that they would either accept it or they wouldn’t. If they did, he would see how things went. If they didn’t, then he would carry on walking, maybe follow the coastline and see how far it went. He quite liked that idea. It appealed to him. He realised they were waiting for an answer and cleared his throat.
“I don’t remember the world before. I’ve heard about it, of course, like everyone. Rumours, stories. I don’t know which ones were true and which ones weren’t. The truth of it is, it doesn’t matter. For me, this is all it’s ever been. As for who I am and what my place is, I don’t have the answer to that either. I wake up each day knowing it could be my last, that just one infection, one illness, one bad encounter on the road would mean it’s over for me. I know nobody would miss me, and I know I have no reason to expect otherwise. I’ve drifted around looking for a place to call my own, looking for a purpose. You people, this place, it’s the first time I’ve seen something that seems to be building something instead of just waiting to die. I’ve done things I’m not proud of, and I’ve seen things that make me wonder what the point of this existence even is, but I don’t have answers to that either. All I can tell you is that I try to do the right thing and make sure I make it through another day. I can’t do any more than that. I’m not sure if that’s the answer any of you were looking for, but that’s the truth.”
Barnes folded his hands and leaned across the table. “Everyone here has a purpose. A reason for being here. We all have jobs. We don’t freeload. You understand that, right?”
“I said I’m willing to help. I’ll do anything you want me to if it means I can stay for a while. Maybe this won’t work out for any of us, in which case I’ll be on my way and look elsewhere for whatever it is I’m trying to find.”
Mannering leaned across and whispered something in Barnes’s ear. Ethan watched as Barnes nodded. “You said you like the water. You also look strong. Have you ever been on a boat before?”
He shook his head. “No. I’ve never even seen the ocean before.”
Barnes turned to Mannering. “We could use him on the next trip. Especially with what happened to Chris.”
“No, he’s not ready for that. He couldn’t handle it.”
“I can handle it, whatever it is,” Ethan cut in.
Mannering glared at him. “I wasn’t talking to you, I was talking to my friend here.”
“Maybe he can handle it,” Barnes said, then turned back to Mannering. “We definitely need a third hand out there.”
“We do, but not him. He would break out there.”
“I wouldn’t,” Ethan cut in again, earning another glare from Mannering.
Barnes grinned and looked down the table to Betty. “He’s keen, isn’t he?”
Betty grinned, Mannering looked ready to explode.
“Alright,” Barnes said. “You can stay for a while. You’ll be expected to come out and fish with us. If you want to earn your keep, that’s how you’ll do it.”
“This is crazy, look at him,” Mannering said. “He can’t go out there like that with a broken skull.”
Barnes nodded, then looked Ethan in the eye, his gaze unwavering. “Let him heal first. He’s no good to anyone with that wound the way it is anyway.”
“You mean I can stay?” Ethan asked.
“On a trial basis. Until we decide what to do. Be aware; we’ll be watching you. If at any point you do anything that we don’t like, you’ll be out of here. Understood?”
Ethan nodded. “Understood. I won’t let you down.”
“Alright,” Barnes replied. “Now go get some rest. Sooner you’re fit, the sooner we can find something for you to do around here.”
“Just one more thing,” Ethan asked.
“Go on.”
He looked at Mannering, resisting the urge to turn away from his glare. “What is it like out there on the water?”
Mannering glanced at Barnes, looked like he was about to speak, then changed his mind. Instead, he smirked and folded his massive arms. “Ask me again in a couple of weeks. Maybe then I’ll tell you something about it.”
Ethan frowned, but didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his chances of staying.
“Alright,” Barnes cut in, chair scraping across the wood floor as he stood up. “I think we’re done here. Rest for a few days, then we’ll talk again. Until that time, maybe keep a low profile around here. People are weary of strangers. Until they know and trust you, don’t be surprised if they don’t seem particularly welcoming. If you stick with it though, they’ll come around. I have a pretty good sense of character, and I think you’ll turn out just fine.”
“I will, and thank you. You won’t regret this.”
“You might,” Mannering grunted as he too stood.
“Don’t start, John,” Betty said as she crossed the room to stand beside Ethan. She looked at him. The one friendly face he had seen.
“Don’t tell me not to start, I’m the only voice of reason here it seems.”
“We need all the help we can get.”
“Not from just anyone you find lying out there in the dirt.”
“This enough, both of you,” Barnes said, raising his voice enough to stop the argument.
“Come on, you need some rest. Maybe some food too,” Betty said to Ethan, leading him out of the hall.
“I have some with me. Just beans but…”
“It’s fine. We have plenty of food to go around. Come on, I’ll show you around the village. Despite what these two are saying, there are some nice people here.”
THREE
For the next week, Ethan did his best to integrate with the people of the town. Some were open to him and kind, others still approached him with mistrust. Betty had allowed him to stay in the room where he had been taken after they found him, and for the first time, Ethan felt no desire to go in search of something else. He had everything he wanted. The town setup was basic, but functional. There was a real sense of positivity about the people, and they had food and water, the latter somehow purified to remove much of the sulphur, ash taste. As suggested by Barnes, he had kept a low profile, keeping mostly to himself and interacting only with Betty, who changed his bandages every second day. She told him she had put eleven stitches in his skin, and in between bandage changes, he had looked in the dirty dresser mirror at the ugly cut. It would leave a scar, but he was fine with that. The alternative at the time was something he was unwilling to think about. He had also, for the first time, cut his hair and shaved his beard, which took years off him. His eyes were still old and told the story of the toil of his existence, but the clean shave had taken fifteen years off his appearance. He looked like a stranger. Square jaw, defined cheekbones. The new look made him more approachable around town, people started to come and talk to him, dropping their guards slightly. One thing that didn’t change was Ethan’s love for the ocean. To him, it was still beautiful, and he woke early most mornings and went to the dock, where he would sit with his feet hanging over the side and just look at it, the way it rippled and moved. He wished he would have been ab
le to see it when it was still blue. It was one such morning when Mannering spoke to him for the first time since the meeting he had attended.
“You still here?” he barked.
Ethan looked over his shoulder. Mannering was standing there, arms folded, tatty red-and-black-checkered shirt flapping in the breeze.
“I am. My head is almost healed. I’m almost ready to start work.”
“I was hoping you might have decided to move on,” Mannering slurred. Although it was early, he was drunk. Ethan could smell it on him when the wind blew.
“No, I’m still here and happy to find my place.”
“It’s stupid, you should just go and leave us alone here.”
Ethan stood, facing Mannering who was unsteady on his feet.
“Isn’t it a bit early to be drinking?”
“I’ve only had one, for the cold. Anyway, I need it. Fishing trip in a few days. They want you to come. I’m fighting them on it though, I don’t want you out there.”
“What’s your problem with me, Mannering? You’ve hated me ever since I showed up. I’m not a bad person.”
Mannering staggered closer, bringing the smell of booze with him. “I don’t hate you, I just don’t have time to babysit stupid kids out there. You don’t get it, you don’t know what it’s like.”
“I’ve heard the stories about what might be out there,” Ethan said, glancing to the ocean. “Big things. Dangerous things.”
Mannering shook his head. “Not stories. You people never learn until it’s too late.”
“I don’t understand what you’re problem is with me.”
“It’s not just you,” Mannering snapped. “It’s all of you. Twelve men were lost out there fishing. Twelve lost, more injured because, like you, they thought they knew best. You don’t know a damn thing.”
“Maybe if you didn’t drink so much it would be safer out there.”
Mannering lurched forward, stopping inches from Ethan’s face. “You don’t get it. This isn’t about stories or things you’ve heard. I’ve been out there. I’ve seen what’s in the water. You don’t seem to see anything past how nice the water looks. That’s going to get you killed out there.”
