by Kip Nelson
“We should, and it looks as though you're going to do a good job of that, although I think there are more beautiful sights you could paint than this place.”
“It has a charm of its own, and there's something beautiful about seeing it in this state. It's the beginning of something, and I wanted to capture that hope.”
Mack looked down at her, and his heart swelled with love. She placed the brush over one of the paint pots and turned to look at him.
“You look tired, is everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said, dragging his hand across his jaw, “it's just that I have so many things to take care of in this settlement and I'm trying not to let it overwhelm me. There are days when I just want to go away with you for a while and forget about everything,” he admitted, feeling a little shame at putting his own needs before the needs of New Haven. Anna just chuckled.
“You would last about two hours, maybe three, and then you'd get bored. Face it, Mack, doing nothing just isn't in your nature. Soon, you'd soon be wishing you were back out there, helping out. I don't think you could look at everyone else doing something and be content relaxing. It would drive you crazy.”
“Maybe you have a point,” he said, laughing.
“It's going to be strange having you around again. You know me better than I know myself.”
“And don't you forget it,” she said, smiling wryly.
It was in moments such as these when the couple could forget all the distance and time that had passed between them and remember their eternal love. Even though the apocalypse had taken away a great many things, there were some that never could be taken away. With Anna back in his life, Mack felt complete again and stronger, with a renewed vigor and hope that they really could make it through this world. If he and his wife could reunite, then anything was possible, even the human race prospering after having their world decimated.
“Do you know what you'd like to do once you've recovered fully?” he asked.
“I've been thinking about that a lot. Even when I first started surviving, that question was in my mind. I tried not to think about it, you know. I didn't want to jinx it because I knew I could die at any moment. So, thinking about the future seemed a waste of energy, but now I'm here I really want to contribute. I see all these people working together toward a common goal and it's inspiring, and humbling. But there's something that I've seen that perhaps you haven't, because you're so involved with it all.”
This caught Mack's attention and he cocked an eyebrow. Anna always seemed to find a way to surprise him.
“But I've been an observer and outside the main group, and I realized that this is human history. We're literally making history as we speak, and it's important to recognize that and think about it. We need to document this so our descendants and other people can see what we're building. This is too important to let fall into the cracks of the history. People here deserve to be remembered, and so do you,” she said. Mack was buoyed by her words and admired her passion.
“So, I thought I'd see if there are any other creative people who would want to do the same thing as me and get back to what we're doing. I know it doesn't seem like creativity has a place in this world when there are so many other survival skills that are paramount, but humans are storytellers and there is a need to interpret the world around us in different ways. I feel like we can have that, too.”
“In that case, I'll give you control of the creative department. See what you can do.”
“You mean it?” she asked, her face lighting up.
“Of course, it sounds like a wonderful idea. It'll help keep people's minds fresh as well, and it would be good to have some reminders now and then of what's happened in the world.”
By this point, a few people had noticed Anna's painting and had wandered over out of curiosity, although they hadn't overheard her and Mack's conversation. The painting caused quite a stir and people began offering their own judgments, some of them sounding more educated than others. Anna walked into the crowd and began discussing the techniques she was using. People were interested, and she then repeated to them the sentiment of what she had expressed to Mack, that it was time for the human spirit to reclaim its place in the world. She said that though things seemed ugly, there was beauty to be found, and it was their job to shine a light on it.
People became more and more excited and they started sharing stories of how they used to be creative. Some, like Anna, were very talented and had worked in the field. Others merely dabbled, but all of them shared the same spark, and as soon as the dialogue had begun, ideas stared springing forth. Some were ambitious, but there were no limits on the ideas. There were talks about novels and memoirs focusing on how people had survived, speculative fiction about how the world had ended in the first place and the motives behind whatever caused the EMP. People began sharing stories that they had not told anyone before, thinking that they would make a good play. Anna and Mack smiled as they saw the bubbling energy seize the crowd. Mack placed his arm around Anna's waist and squeezed it affectionately.
“I think you've found your place,” he said, and kissed her on the cheek. She smiled as she raised her hands and tried to calm down the crowd.
“From what I've heard you all have some great ideas and I can't wait to discuss them with you. But we shouldn't do it out here. Go and spread the word and get anyone you think is interested. We'll meet back here and discuss our ideas properly. It'll be like a think tank. We'll go look for more supplies, such as paints and pens and paper. Then we'll start talking about what projects we can work on before we present them to anyone else.”
Anna continued speaking and Mack listened with wry amusement. He was happy his wife had found her place in New Haven, and that she would help others to find their own place as well. The thought of writing stories and inspiring the creative spirit hadn't even occurred to him. So, he was glad Anna had found a way to contribute. It sounded like fun as well. He made a note to drop by later to see how the creative group was flourishing. He wished he could take part, but he didn't have the mindset for it, and he had too many other things to take of as it was. He had been looking forward to spending a couple of hours with Anna, but he couldn't begrudge her this group. So, he smiled at her and waved goodbye as he returned to his own duties, taking one last look at the painting his wife was working on. Like New Haven itself it was unfinished, but he knew that by the end it would be a beautiful thing.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ELSEWHERE IN NEW HAVEN, Saul was overseeing a small group of children. He smiled wryly to himself for there was a time when he didn't think he ever would be comfortable around this many children. He never had been a father, never been the type to want kids at all, and he didn't even mind that as he grew older he wasn't going to leave a legacy behind. The traditional family structure wasn't something for Saul. He knew what a family was like and didn't want to inflict that pain on anyone else. It was easier for him to be alone. It was probably easier for everyone else as well.
Saul still wasn't sure what it was about him that drew the children toward him, but he was glad for it. He was enjoying this new role as a mentor to the kids. He knew something about having a troubled childhood, although what these kids had been through put his own experiences to shame. When he looked at them his heart swelled with pity as he thought about all the things that had been robbed from them. These kids should have been growing up in warm, loving homes, shielded from the realities of the world to actually enjoy their childhood. Instead they had been torn from that, a gun thrust in their hand, forced to grow up far more quickly than was natural.
So far, they seemed to be okay, but Saul wondered what the long-term effects were going to be. Eventually as they grew up they would realize the ramifications of what happened to them, and it all would come crashing back down. He wanted to try making a difference in their lives, wanted to show them you could start again, even after doing bad things. Saul knew that better than most, and while he didn't have th
e calm reassurance of Freddie or the kindness of Grace, he did have his own experience to draw upon. He didn't believe in sugarcoating anything, and wanted to be honest with the kids. He wanted to treat them as people rather than try lying to them about the state of the world, which wasn't going to help them at all.
Things had changed, and the kids would have to learn to grow up in a different way. Their education wasn't going to be in mathematics and literature any longer, it was going to be in hunting and gathering, in keeping things running in New Haven, in making weapons and forming battle strategies. Eventually, these were the kids who were going to take over New Haven, if it survived that long, and it was Saul's role to help prepare them.
The kids ranged in age and moods. Some of them still were having problems adjusting to the settlement, while others showed no signs of any problems. Many had been reunited with their families and were spending time with their parents, but others had no one. These kids were grouped together, and Saul could sense the unease in some of them as they saw others go away with their own parents. The orphans stayed with Saul, and he had taken it upon himself to take care of them. He saw them to bed each night and during the day he made sure they were fed and enjoyed their time in New Haven. He wanted to show them that just because they didn't have their parents it didn't make their lives any less enjoyable than the ones who did.
However, even though he was focusing on those who had no parents, the ones who did still came and joined Saul when he gave his lessons. He didn't mind, since the more children who knew these skills, the better. He also believed many of them stayed together as they had been a group for so long that it had simply had become comfortable.
At first it was difficult to get some of the kids to listen. The younger ones easily were distracted, and the older ones were used to doing what they wanted, and thought they knew better than Saul. It was a challenge to get past that, but Saul had managed to do it by splitting them up into smaller groups and having them work on different things at various times. They also had come to know his stern look well. He gave the older kids responsibility by making them the leaders of their little groups, and their jobs were to look after the littler ones. In turn, the little ones had the attention they needed, and it was all running as smoothly as possible.
Their help had made the job of cleaning New Haven of debris and reinforcing the wall a much quicker task than it otherwise would have been. Then Saul could move onto more important lessons. He taught them how to make weapons such as spears and bows and arrows first. When he introduced them, some of the kids scoffed. They said they had guns and didn’t need weapons like that. Saul just smiled and asked them what they were going to do if they ran out of bullets, use the gun like a club? The kids looked at each other. Then Saul hurled a javelin into a target he had made. The powerful throw caused the javelin to lodge in its target and the kids were amazed. He taught them the difference between wood that would be strong and wood that would be brittle and rotting. He showed them how to bend the bow and latch some string to it. Then he taught them how to use them. He promised that one day he would take them to practice their hunting, although he would have to get Mack's approval first.
He often had talks with Freddie as well, and they shared stories about the children and how they were doing. Freddie told Saul that most of them were reluctant to talk about what happened, but that he was making progress with most of them. While Freddie focused on the mental side of things, Saul wanted to give them something to occupy their time so they had limited opportunities to dwell on the past. However, sometimes the kids asked them what had happened to their parents and Saul wasn't sure how to answer. He tried to be diplomatic about it and be honest with them without being cruel. He wasn't sure how much their inexperienced minds could comprehend all the complexities of this new world, but when they were sad he gathered them around for story time. He told them stories from his own childhood, and this lifted their spirits. He was quite a wild child, and often was found running away from school and home. To them he was like a cowboy, and when they looked at him it was with great admiration.
It was the first time Saul had been looked at like that, and he found that he liked it. Not only had he had a positive effect on the kids, but the kids had had a similar effect on him. He didn't want to disappoint them, and wanted to continue to take care of them and see them grow. There had been times when he had been difficult with Mack and fought against his wishes, but those days were long behind him. At first, Saul had shunned the thought of getting close to people. He expected that, at some point, he would leave New Haven. He would go back out in the world to find a small corner he could call his own, and live out his days in peaceful solitude, but things had changed. It had taken him a while to get used to it, but he enjoyed being a part of the community.
“They look as though they're getting used to this,” a voice said.
Saul looked up as the kids were examining different pieces of wood Saul had collected, trying to pick which would be most suitable for various weapons. Alison came up to him. She was a larger lady, and Saul found it hard not to stare at her curves. There was a great hunger in him, and Alison was exactly the type of lady that he went for. The corner of her lips tugged into a smile.
“Yeah, although I've been getting a few glances from people who don't think it's good to be teaching them these things.”
“Screw them. These kids need to know how to survive. I think it's good, and I've always admired a man who can take care of himself. There weren't too many of them back in the old world.”
“I guess one of the good things about the apocalypse is that it's brought a lot of people together who never would have met.”
“Yeah, I mean, if we had passed each other on the street before you probably wouldn't have given me a second look.”
“Oh, I'd have given you a second look alright,” Saul said.
Alison blushed a little and caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Saul stroked his bushy beard as wild thoughts ran through his mind.
“Mind if I stay a while and help out with the kids?” Alison asked in a light voice. Saul didn't mind at all, and welcomed her company.
TRISTAN WAS SITTING by himself at the edge of the settlement, in the shadows. He was tossing a few pebbles in between his hands, feeling their coarse texture against his fingers. He glanced around. In the distance, he could see Anna painting away with a few other people around her, and on the other side of the settlement Saul was with the kids. Freddie had asked Tristan to help out, but Tristan wasn't in the mood. He wanted to put the Lost Children behind him. New Haven wasn't the same anymore. He thought he could run away from his past, but there were constant reminders. Everyone seemed able to carry on as though nothing had happened. Tristan didn't understand this. He always had been taught that violence was bad. After he beat Peter, he expected to be punished, but there had been no consequences other than his own shame. The new world was complicated, and while the adults like Freddie and his mom meant well, he couldn't talk to them. All he wanted to do was disappear.
It didn't help that Sharon still was around. When Mack had offered the other people a chance to leave New Haven and go back to their old lives Tristan had hoped Sharon and her mom were going to be ones who left, but they stayed. He'd seen her a handful of times around the settlement, and every time it felt as though he was stabbed in the heart again. He remembered the way they shared intimate secrets, and then that moment he had caught her allowing Peter and the other Lost Children into the settlement, then kissing Peter right in front of him. There hadn't been any punishment for her either. As far as Tristan was concerned, Sharon was just as much to blame as Peter for what happened. But while Peter was locked up, Sharon was allowed to roam free, and Tristan didn't see how that was fair.
He heard footsteps approaching from another direction. He knew the walk before he even looked up to see who it was. Sharon stood there, cast in shadow, her head hanging by her shoulders. She had one arm crossed over her chest, rubbing th
e other, and she was standing awkwardly. Tristan looked to the ground and threw down the pebbles he was holding. He stood up, meaning to leave, but Sharon asked him to wait.
“Please, just let me speak,” she said.
Tristan still didn't look at her, for it was too painful, but he waited all the same. Sharon spoke in a small, trembling voice, continually running her hand along the end strands of her blond hair, chewing her lip until it was all chapped.
“I know you've been avoiding me, and I really hate it. I've been talking with my mom a lot. I told her what happened, all of it, and she helped me see that what I did was wrong. I knew it that moment when Peter was going crazy. I only wished I had seen it sooner. I never should have let myself be blinded by him, but you can't blame me completely. We all were! Even you, until your mom found you. Do you not think that if your mom hadn't come to our settlement that you would have stayed by Peter's side and marched with him into this place? I know what I did was wrong, and I'm truly sorry from the bottom of my heart. I did enjoy our time together, and I felt as though we got to know each other in a special way. I really miss our conversations Tristan. I miss hanging out with you. I miss you.”
When she finished speaking Tristan let her words linger in the air. In truth, he had thought about that a lot as well, about what he would have done if his mom hadn't found him, and he didn't like the answer that was present in his mind. However, he didn't want to dwell on that anymore. He missed Sharon as well. Missed the way his heart raced whenever she sat beside him, or the way her fragrance lingered on his clothes after they had spent time together. He missed the way she could make him feel special, but he knew all those feelings were lies. She had manipulated him for Peter, and not only had she hurt him, but she had trampled on his feelings. She had made everything that seemed so happy seem so hollow and empty, and he wasn't sure how he was going to trust anyone again.
