I shook my head. “It’s not like they cared,” I whispered as I slowly opened my journal, “our library sat empty and dark for too many years.” I laughed in spite of myself. “Dark until I got in there, anyway.”
As much as I hated to think on it, I was reminded of my first – and last – venture into the library (with Kay’s goading, of course). That may have been the last bastion of knowledge in the wasteland, and now no one will ever know what the world used to be like; all because of me.
I still remember that day so vividly…the day Kay and I broke into the library through a rattled window in the hopes of finding a book that actually had all its pages. The library had very little lighting as its windows were always covered in dark curtains; we were never really sure why the adults kept this place so secretive. What’s so bad about being able to see the books from the outside?
There were a surprising number of books in the library; more so than our Provider could have possibly given us. I assume it was around long before the Reckoning, though no one would ever answer that question. There were rows of bookshelves throughout and a small desk near the door and there was a circular object of blues and greens on that desk that I was immediately drawn to.
“My dad calls it a globe,” Kay had said as I turned the device in my hands, “he has one in his study. Apparently it shows the world.”
My eyes lit up. “Where are we on it?” I asked but he just shrugged and walked away. “Is there really that much water in the world?” I called after him.
“There must be if my dad is right.”
“Wow…maybe our world really does exist…” I muttered to myself, thinking of the place Kay and I would find someday.
“I thought you wanted to read some books?” Kay finally called after me as I was transfixed on the globe before me.
“I do…” It was hard to pull myself away from a world so inviting, a world so different from my own, but eventually I trailed after Kay.
“Grab a couple books and I’ll light the lantern at the desk,” he had said as he walked past me with a large stack of books in his hands, “There’s not enough light in here to read otherwise.”
“I thought we were taking some home with us?”
“Maybe one or two…but why not read a few while we’re here?”
“Because we’ll get in trouble?” I had said but I didn’t really care; I was already looking for books to read.
“You know your dad is the only one who comes in here anymore; he won’t mind.” Kay replied, already taking a seat at the desk.
“If you really think my dad wouldn’t care then why wouldn’t you have just asked for the key to the door?” I asked as I piled my own books next to his on the table. “Just face it, you know the adults don’t want us in here, my dad included, and yet here we are; you know what will happen if we’re found out.”
Kay ignored me, absorbed in the first book he pulled from his pile. Following his lead, I picked up a book and started reading. It was silence for a while; I guess we both managed to find some pretty interesting novels. Hell, I still have the charred remains of one in my backpack; some of the pages are still good. We had eventually gotten into a heated discussion as the night wore on over a book Kay had found peeking out under a dusty pile of novels on an end-table.
“This is crazy,” he had said, absorbed in its pages, “apparently there are gigantic worms out in the wasteland.”
“No way,” I replied, “that can’t be right; I’m sure we would have seen one by now or at least have heard of one before…that sounds fake.”
“According to this, there are. It even specifies the wasteland so it isn’t a journal from the before-time. This guy must have seen one in person if I’m reading this right; it sounds pretty real. I mean, do you have any proof that it isn’t?”
“Well, no…I guess anything is possible. I wonder what else is out there…” I had barely finished my sentence when Kay interrupted me.
“Apparently there are even elite ones out there; he claims he saw one travelling through the earth for days…it was still going when he was rescued.”
“Rescued? Elite? That all sounds like hogwash to me.”
“Well I don’t know what to tell you; this is some guy’s personal journal.”
“He was probably hallucinating from lack of water when he wrote that. Does it say who rescued him?”
“No, the journal stops here; kind of abrupt, actually.”
“See? Either he couldn’t think of something to make up afterwards or he must have blacked out before his mind could conjure something up. Who wrote that, anyway?” I had asked as I stood up to find another book.
“Uhm…some Nathaniel guy; Nathaniel Torin. I’ve never heard of him.”
“Me either. Maybe you should try another book; if what that guy says is true then there should be other references out there.”
Kay stood up and walked with me, both of us unaware of the fallen lamp that had somehow gotten knocked off the table as we discussed the legitimacy of Nathaniel’s journal. We were bickering next to an old filing cabinet in the corner when we smelt the flames, long before we saw them. Kay and I rushed to put it out but it had already leapt at the drapes and the faded, unintelligible papers that littered the floor. It was out of control within seconds. Kay quickly grabbed our things as he headed back to the open window we came in from, but I remember standing there and looking around in horror. The bookshelves were ablaze and large tomes fell to the floor, their precious pages crumbling to dust before my eyes. I wanted to cry.
“We have to save them!” I had said to Kay as I suddenly jumped into action, trying to battle the flames nearby with the dusty rug beneath me.
“We can’t,” Kay had come back and grabbed frantically at my arm, “it’s out of control; we have to go!”
I stared around me, the flames licking my heels. In one desperate attempt I grabbed the journal that Kay had been reading previously from off the desk and succumbed to Kay’s strength as he pulled me away from the fire and up to the window he had thrown our belongings through.
Kay jumped from the window first, hitting the ground hard and he gazed up at me expectantly. “Come on!” He urged me forward as I glanced at the ground below, the heat already searing my backside.
The boxes outside that we had originally used to climb up had stumbled over one another in Kay’s escape and the ground seemed farther away than I had remembered. I was vaguely aware of Kay’s voice still calling out to me as I braced myself. With the heat becoming almost too much to bear I leapt from the window, crashing right into Kay as he tried to catch me. He had wasted no time in getting up and grabbing our gear while he dragged me to my feet and we took off running behind the library. We snuck our way into the backyards of the nearby houses as we rushed back to my place, doing our best not to be seen. By the time we reached my house the library was engulfed and people had gathered near it to watch. Kay and I hid in the shadows of my home, watching as my parents eventually left to investigate the commotion. They were one of the last few to reach the site and we slowly followed them.
Kay and I made our way up beside my parents, acting as though we had been at the Dunes all night. My dad put his arm around me tight and we all watched the flames dance across the night sky. I had looked up to my father’s face and noticed that there were tears in his eyes at the sight; our only link to the world of the past was now up in smoke. I had wanted to say something, but what really could I do? What words would make this right? Instead, I hugged my father hard and we watched the blaze together, with Kay’s supporting hand on my shoulder.
No one knew who did it. Kay and I were only fourteen at the time and too scared to come forward. While I didn’t trust the memoir, I knew how much Kay was intrigued by it and it was the only book I managed to save from the fire; I never did manage to give it back to him, though…I was always too absorbed in my own books and his stories. My backpack was tossed aside in my room and never thought of again, which kind of ruined the
whole point of salvaging it to begin with. But I have it now; that’s all that matters…Kay will get it back.
I sat for a while, thinking on people and things that I wish I didn’t. The journal felt cold and heavy in my hands, its cover a sleek design with golden letters stretched out across it. My fingers traced the title over and over; it was mostly intact, although a few strands had come unglued in my journey. It still looked brand new; just like the day my father had brought it home to me. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help it – my father’s face blazed across my mind’s eye, his laughing face and bright blue eyes gazing out into the wasteland with me. He often laughed – maybe that’s why people loved him so much. Nothing ever brought my father down and people came to him for advice more than I ever had. He was a staple of our little community – so why did no one look for him? Did they really resent him in the end?
I held my journal close to my chest, hugging it tightly as I thought about the man that was friend and father through all my years; someone I loved more than words could ever say.
“You always cherished the written word, Dad…a trait that you’ve instilled in me.” I hugged my journal tighter. “You did that for me, somehow…you gave up your own personal request at the Provisioning to get this for me and I’ll never forget the day you brought this book home.”
Dad…I remember that I was sitting on the fountain’s edges in town once again, like I always did with Kay. He had chores to do that morning and I waited patiently for him at the town square when you arrived out of nowhere, a bright smile on your face like you always had.
“I have something for you.” You seemed more excited about the gift than I was, hiding it behind your back with both hands.
“Oh?” I could barely even finish my sentence when you whipped the journal out and waved it in front of me; you appeared almost giddy at its reveal.
“It’s a diary!” You had exclaimed as I looked at it skeptically, “you can keep all your thoughts and adventures in here.” He flipped the pages open and scanned them before me, knowing the empty pages would pique my curiosity.
“Adventures?” I raised an eyebrow at the word and glanced up at him.
“Well, someday…” my father started, calming in his enthusiasm, “who knows what the future holds. I can’t imagine you wanting to stay around here the rest of your life.” He had sat next to me on the fountain then, putting the navy blue journal on my lap.
‘Leave?’ I had thought, ‘Why would I leave? No one ever has before. There’s nothing but the wasteland out there…right?’ I turned my head sharply to look at my father, my eyes widening in thought. ‘He’s been out there…’
My father, misreading my expression, grinned and said, “Exciting, isn’t it? I know how much you love reading and sharing stories with Kay, so I thought you would really enjoy this; surely you would love to write as well. Let your creativity flow.” He managed to peel his eyes away from the diary just long enough to give me a hopeful smile. “Who knows; maybe someday people will read your own work and cherish the knowledge the same way you do yourself.”
I couldn’t help but smile when he had said that. The thought of someone reading this journal with awe was an exciting one…but I didn’t put much stock into it; no one else in town seemed to care about the books available to us, not to mention that we were convinced we were the only survivors of the Reckoning. Whether I believe that now, though…I’m not so sure. I had a hard time calming my racing heart all the same though, and my mind reeled with all the stories Kay and I could actually put on paper now. I smiled and said, “Thank you Dad,” as I ran my fingers over the hard cover of a journal I would eventually forget I even had. After the events of the library, I always felt a pang of guilt when I looked upon the navy hues of my father’s gift. I tucked it away in my room and eventually forgot all about it. What would I have to write in it, anyway? My life has always been so uneventful. Looking back on those days, though, I can’t help but wonder if my father ever noticed how little I used it…was he disappointed?
Thinking back to my father and the days we had together is getting harder and harder as the days go on; I miss him more and more with every sunset. I had closed my journal and sighed. I still couldn’t wrap my head around why he would have left us. Was it something I did? What went wrong? What did I not know about? As much as this journal has been my sanity out here, every day I open it I’m greeted with the voice of my father as my eyes briefly trace the outline of his handwritten message on the inside cover:
‘To my little girl,
May your imagination always soar through the pages of life.
Love, dad’
I still cherish those words, even if they hurt. This was the last gift I ever received from him and seeing his scrawl is rather bittersweet, but it makes me feel like wherever he is, a part of him is still with me. When the heartache subsides, I find his words give me hope.
Dad, if you’re reading this…I love you and I’m sorry; sorry for everything. I truly am.
Journal Entry #2,
The storm was still raging hard against the stone entrance, which caused the wooden awning to creak and sway incessantly. Ponika sat comfortably next to the wall opposite me as he kept a vigilant eye on the crazed sand; his eyes darted back and forth and his ears shifted wildly as he seemed to watch invisible creatures drifting through the dunes. As I had sat there and watched my horse relax I had started to hear a sound in the distance…a wet, dripping sound.
“Is that…water, Ponika?” I had said to him, straining to hear the quiet sound in the roaring wind.
It was faint but it was definitely there: dripping water and it seemed to be coming from the back of the mine. I had looked towards the source of the sound but the tunnel that lead further inside was blocked by rubble and shrouded in darkness. I had stood up and pressed my ear to the cold stone that had caved in the corridor and heard it clearly this time; there was definitely water somewhere behind these rocks. I felt around, looking for way in and found a slight gap in the side of the wall that I could squeeze through if I inhaled just right.
I grabbed my backpack, expecting to be able to salvage some supplies and I stuffed my journal quickly inside the front pouch, afraid it may blow away in the wind once again if left unattended. “I’ll be right back, Ponika; I might be able to find something for us.” Ponika cocked his ear back at his name but otherwise ignored me as I ventured into the darkness that encompassed the other side of the corridor.
I tangled my fingers around the uneven stones that poked out at me from the walls and carefully made my way forward, testing the ground cautiously for any cracks or weak foundation. As I inched along I started to see a faded and shaky light in the distance; it would illuminate the damp walls around it and then disappear, only to reappear moments later. I crept forward, a new destination in mind and the source of the light finally came into view; a blue metallic lantern that swung wildly in a cool breeze that seemed to escape through a few stray holes in the tunnels around it. The lantern lay at a fork in the road; winds from two different directions battered its frame and tickled my face as I now had an option of paths. The route straight ahead appeared vast and empty and it was shrouded in darkness, while the tunnel to my right was much brighter; I could see the path that meandered through the earth in a dusty and dim haze. I decided to take the new route; not only could I see what was ahead of me but the breeze that whispered past my face was a consistent presence, which made me assume there would be an easy way out should I have need of it. Well, turns out I was partially right.
The tunnel was sporadically lit with metal lanterns and small streams of light had peeked through the crevices on the walls. There had been a few small pieces of debris along the way and an overturned cart or two as I went but otherwise the tunnel had been in pretty good shape; its wooden frames looked sturdy and untouched in the pale light. I had eventually come across mine tracks hidden in the dirt beneath me – I wouldn’t have even known they were there if I hadn’t trip
ped over them. It forced me to grab onto the wall next to me to steady myself but in my haste I had latched on too hard, causing pieces of earth to crumble at my fingertips and expose a dark corridor beyond it. I had thought that I heard something skittering away at the sight of falling earth but I saw no sign of life anywhere as I had quickly scanned the darkness. The sound of dripping water could still be heard somewhere in the distance, however, so I had pressed onwards, foolishly allowing the gap in the wall to stay exposed. I don’t know how long I travelled for but it felt like an eternity, the corridor never changing in appearance as it zigged and zagged along its predetermined route. The sound of water was constantly getting closer, urging me onwards as I grew farther and farther away from Ponika. I should have felt uneasy but the promise of hydration was overpowering.
Then there it was: water dripping from the muddy roof above me. I had found myself in a small, angular room with a rotted architectural table in one corner and an overturned cart before me that signaled the end of the track. Multiple pickaxes lined the walls and a few dirt-covered overalls were strewn about the uneven floor around me. There was a small corridor on the other side that must have continued the track but it was pitch black, although I assumed it wasn’t always that way. At the entrance to the darkened tunnel ahead was a broken lantern, its shards of glass embedded in the thick, muddy ground about the room. I may have been nervous if I had spent the time to scrutinize the path a bit more but I had ended up shrugging off the darkness near me as I had found what I was looking for. I whipped out my canister and allowed the water to stream into it, knowing it would take some time but time is something I had plenty of. I could still hear the howling winds blowing outside through the small cracks in the walls around me and knowing that I must not be far into the earth calmed me.
Deserted Page 2
