Lilly didn’t understand.
“If they’re hungry, why can’t we give them food?” Lilly asked. “Why is that wrong?”
“I suppose it’s because people have it hard and what they have has to last. Like the way we ration our water at home. And they come into this place wanting to rest and keep what they have.”
Lilly shook her head. "It doesn’t make sense. Can’t we give them food? I don’t need my jerky.” She held up a piece.
“Yeah, you do.” Falcon pushed it back to her.
A part of Falcon was grateful for his children’s generosity. Between Josh giving his water to the wayward dog and Lilly willing to give up her jerky, Falcon knew they were clueless as to the gravity of the situation. Their naivety showed how sheltered they really were. He wondered if their naivety would be gone after the trip north.
9. Green
The roads were flat once they hit Indiana. The bathing stations seemed to be located off the major roads and the distance of a good day’s walk or trotting horse ride. It made it easier for Falcon to stop for the night.
Last night, though, there wasn’t a bathing station. He was told there wouldn’t be one the previous night when he stopped at a very crowded one.
Someone there told him that it was the end of the line for stations, mainly because the drought didn’t really reach the cities. They were just without power, sewage or means to survive and that was the main reason they were vacated.
They looped around Louisville, which had been hit years earlier by a nuclear weapon. Some buildings still stood but were burnt; others had crumbled during the destruction or just from the passing of years.
The blockades to the city’s exits had been moved aside and signs placed upon them stating ‘Viable Zone’.
Falcon recalled when Louisville was a hazard zone.
A radioactive wasteland.
That was what they called it only a few years ago. Some radiation had to remain, but he guessed not enough to be deadly.
The PML wasn’t exactly in Fort Wayne; it was actually like a mall, located about twelve miles south of the city. It was set off by itself and the signs on the road let them know they were close.
It was the fifth day of traveling. Falcon didn’t take into account the bathing stations, so they were faring well on their water.
Somewhere about twenty miles back, Lilly, with eagle eyes like Falcon, had spotted it first. She pointed with enthusiasm, shouting out, “Green! Daddy! Green!”
“Where?” Josh asked. “Where?”
“Straight ahead.” Falcon pointed.
Lilly gasped. Her tiny hand shot to her mouth. “Oh, Daddy! It’s green!”
Falcon really didn’t know about the Green portion, but it wasn’t brown, that was for sure. It was a speck of green. Maybe it was a tree that survived or something.
“Dad?” Josh asked. “You think the transients didn’t make it up this far? Cause no one said they saw green.”
“This is pretty north, and at one time, Josh, everyone up here was sick. Everyone.”
“The airs feels different,” Josh said. “Or is it me?”
“No, it feels different, kind of humid,” Falcon said.
“What’s humid?” Josh asked.
“When there’s water in the air. It’s dry down where we live now. Didn’t used to be, but is now. So the air is hot and dry, this is damp and hot.”
“Feels thick,” Josh said
“It does.”
Then Lilly, with her usual dramatics, gasped again. “Oh, water in the air! Do you think it might rain, Daddy? That would be the greatest thing in the world.”
Falcon peered to the blue sky. “No. I don’t.”
“We can wish, right?” Lilly asked.
“Right.” Falcon winked.
They made the turn off the highway to the Presidential Memorial Library Lane. They had to leave the horse tied at the end of the driveway. Barricades were placed along with signs telling people to stay out.
Falcon didn’t foresee any problems. After all, the signs had long since started to fade and they had … a green substance on them. What it was, Falcon didn’t know. But he stopped Lilly’s fingers from touching the sign.
“But it’s green, Daddy.”
“I’m thinking that’s not the type of green we want to touch,” Falcon told her.
Excitedly, Josh called out, “What about this?”
Falcon lifted his head; Josh had darted through the barricade and was a good twenty feet ahead, crouched down by the cracked pavement.
“What do you see?” Falcon, holding Lilly’s hand, asked.
Josh looked up and a wide grin spread across his face. “Grass!”
“Actually, that’s a weed, but close enough.” Falcon nodded to Lilly.
She raced to the inch high weed that poked through the concrete. “Can I touch it?”
“Yes. You can touch that.”
She gave an enthusiastic scream as she touched it. “Can I take it with us?”
“No.” Falcon said. “If things are gonna grow again, let’s let them …” His eyes strayed.
“Dad?” Josh called for him. “What’s wrong?”
“Holy cow.” Falcon whispered. “It’s the green we saw.”
Falcon spoke of the PML. He had seen it one other time and that was when he was twelve. It was newly constructed then and because he made a donation of value, he got to see it before anyone else. It was empty then, not many people and clean and shiny. His feet made an echoing noise on the floor and he had to speak in a soft voice because it sounded loud inside.
When it was first built, the outside the primarily glass building was encircled by white pillars, similar to those of the White House. It was an exciting time because, when it was built, America had the big upper hand in the war and it looked good. War wouldn’t last much longer. Of course that was wrong.
When twelve year old Falcon stepped inside he saw pictures of every American president. And while there wasn’t a room for every president, there was a book on every one. Stacks and stacks of books, shelves so high that librarians needed rolling ladders.
Falcon’s donation was placed in a case in the doorway of the first library room,
That was then.
The green speck that caught their eye in the distance was the library. The ground around the library had become over grown with ivy. Ivy had suffocated the trees and encompassed the building.
From the edge of the driveway it appeared as if the entire building was buried. But the closer they walked, they saw it hadn’t been.
“This is it,” Falcon said. His insides trembled, and yet he was a bit fearful of what the inside would bring.
He separated the ivy so they could step through. It was tricky, especially since the children kept touching it.
To him, the look on their faces and seeing the green leaves of a parasitic vine was worth the trip to retrieve his treasure.
He supposed they wouldn’t understand it, but eventually they would.
The door was locked. Not that Falcon expected it to be open. A metal gate surrounded the door, which made breaking the window and climbing through impossible.
But most of the walls were glass, and they weren’t protected by metal.
He told the children to stand back and he found an area to break though.
It took about ten hard hits with the butt of his rifle before the glass broke. It didn’t shatter though. Falcon had to keep hitting it to make a spot big enough to climb through.
A strong smell blasted through the opening. It was a musty and moldy smell and that was exactly what was inside the building.
Mold.
Ivy had made its way through some of the flooring, but mold and moss had taken over everything.
He had to tell the children to not only be careful of the glass but also of the slippery mold on the floors.
They wanted to see green. They were getting green, along with some other colors as well.
The glass bu
ilding, sealed around ten years earlier, had become a giant ecosystem.
The moss and mold covered everything. The pictures of the presidents were hidden. At first Falcon thought they had been taken down and he worried his treasure was gone as well. Then he saw the edges of a few frames.
The presidents were there, but buried.
Just like their memories of them.
“What happened?” Josh asked. “This ain’t nuclear war.”
Falcon shook his head. “Nature. Remember when I got bread at the barter day and we didn’t eat it all right away? It got that green stuff on it. This is similar.”
“How did that happen?”
“Air tight. Moisture.” Flacon shrugged. “I’m guessing. I don’t know.”
He rested one hand on Josh’s shoulder and clung tight to Lilly’s hand with his other. He had to get his bearings so he walked to where the front door would have been. He noticed Lilly taking hard, long blinks. “What’s the matter sweetie? Your eyes hurt?”
“No,” Lilly said. “I’m making sure everything I see stays tight in my mind so I can remember it forever. This is so pretty Daddy. So pretty.”
He supposed in a way it was. After all, most of the colors they had seen were brown and yellow. The one and only tree in town was off limits to everyone, so they had never seen it.
“It is pretty, smells funny, but pretty.”
“I don’t care.” Lilly said. “It smells good to me.”
“Me, too,” Josh added. “It’s so great, Dad, thank you for letting us see this.”
They considered moss, ivy and mold as great sights? It was a bit sad to hear them say that.
“There.” Falcon pointed to a set of double doors. One was completely covered in moss, the other was open and ivy formed a slight blockade. “It was in there the last I was here.”
Slightly excited, he hurried his children along.
The second they stepped inside the library room, Falcon knew it was there. The display case was covered with green stuff which had crept over the photograph that was perched on top.
Falcon pulled out his handkerchief and wiped off the picture.
“Daddy!” Lilly shrieked. “Is that you? It looks like Josh!”
“Yep. That’s me.” Falcon said as he gazed at the picture of him as a twelve year old holding a box. There was a story underneath it, but the words were covered.
After an airy breath, Lilly tugged Falcon’s hand. “Daddy, we have to take this picture with us. We can’t leave it here.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“We have to try,” she said. “I want this picture of my Daddy. It’s the only one I ever saw of you as a boy.”
“Yeah, Dad,” Josh said. “I’d like us to have it.”
“Then we’ll try,” Falcon said. “But first, what we came here for.” He raised his rifle, and butt end first slammed it down through the thick green covering.
He used every ounce of his strength and with a mighty blow, the glass finally shattered and dropped like magic exposing Falcon’s treasure in perfect condition.
It was a metal box, eight inches long, six inches high.
His hands trembled as he reached for it. It was closed and he knew by the weight that the contents were still in there. His hand smoothed over the engraved words and he basked in a memory of a moment.
“Can we open it?” Josh asked. “You never said what was in there.”
“Not here.” Falcon said. “When we get home, ok? This is special. See this …” Falcon pointed to the front.
Josh’s finger touched the embedded bullet. “Someone shot the box?”
“You know how I always said that the contents of the box meant peace, the end of oppression and war, or at least it tried. Well, this bullet saved someone’s life and to me it was always a symbol that the box was supposed to one day stop all bullets.”
“Keep peace?” Josh asked.
“And maybe, in the right hands …” Falcon laid it in Josh’s hands. “Stop any more wars.”
“It’ll be my treasure now, huh, Dad.”
Falcon smiled. The smile fell when he heard Lilly start to whine. “What’s wrong?”
She crossed her arms. “I don’t understand why he gets the box.”
“You both do,” Falcon said. “But he’s the oldest, so he gets it first. You …” He lifted her up to his hip. “You get to help me free this picture.”
Lilly looked upon the picture of Falcon. “I think this…” She touched it. “This will be my treasure, if that’s ok.”
“That would be fine.” Falcon kissed his daughter, set her down and then worked to free the picture.
10. Little Things
A lot of things brought back memories for Falcon on the return trip—Josh holding that box on his lap, so tight, so secure, just like Falcon had done years before and Lilly in the back of the vike, holding a doll, while holding the picture of Falcon as a boy. She pretended to read the words on the picture. Falcon made a mental promise right away to read that to her when they got home.
But how long would their home last? How long until they were out on the road like every other transient?
For the time being they had food. Falcon was so careful about that. Barter and ration days he got what he could. He stored not only water but food in the pits he had dug. They were small pits with covers that no one knew about, pits he had carefully hidden.
But even then, how long could that last? If it didn’t rain, and if the farm land didn’t come back and the wells replenish, Falcon had a good six months to a year but then he would have nothing.
He, like most, would have to move on.
He thought about that. Maybe if that occurred he’d move the children north near the PML. After all, if the ivy grew, other things had to grow as well.
How wrong his wife was. For years she let people on the land. Anyone with a story, she let them on to live there, to share the wells, to eat the food.
Her attitude was, God blessed the land and it wasn’t right for them to keep it all to themselves.
But with her passing, Falcon had to say enough.
He had stopped people from moving in.
There were so many there already and he had wondered how he could possibly sustain them if the land dried up.
And it did. A year after Stacy passed away, the drought really kicked in and Falcon was glad he stopped more transients from living on the land.
He was already pushing the limits of the resources.
Of course, he was certain Stacy would have kept allowing people to move on the land. And, if he had, instead of six months to a year’s worth of supplies, they’d have nothing.
Stacy was a good soul. Falcon didn’t see him ever being as good as Stacy.
The children … they took after her.
They stopped only for a couple hours that first evening on the return trip. There were no bathing stations, so they just pulled over.
They ate and Falcon told stories. He told about places called amusement parks, because the children had seen a Farris wheel and didn’t know what it was.
On the third night, thirty miles north of Louisville, they stopped at a bathing station. Someone had donated fowl to the camp and everyone feasted on the birds. Falcon was amazed at how well not only their water but also their food had held up.
The horse was also well supplied with water.
Bellies full, they rested. The treasure, the box, had never once in the journey home left Josh’s side.
The journey the next day would bring them home, or close to it.
But just as they hit the beltway that lopped around Louisville, the rear tire on the vike popped.
They had no choice but to stop.
It was something Falcon could fix, he had the hand pump to inflate it, but unfortunately the popped tire was blown.
Falcon would have to find a new one.
They were on the outskirts of Louisville, on the edge of Damage, as Falcon called it. It was a section of
the city not burnt or blasted, but rather abandoned after the nuclear weapon fell.
Slowly, Falcon eased the vike off the ramp and into the city.
Weeds had once grown over everything, but had long since dried out from the drought.
There were cars, lots of them. Flat tires didn’t matter, he could inflate them. He just needed one that wasn’t damaged.
He passed an old grade school and pulled over on what probably was a busy street at one time. There was a drug store, long since looted and emptied, and remnants of a fast food restaurant. Businesses and offices were abandoned.
Falcon settled the vike and horse in the parking lot of a deteriorated convenience store and the children walked the block with him as he looked for a replacement tire. It wasn’t too difficult given the vast number of abandoned cars.
They returned to the Vike and he settled the children on a slab of concrete. Earlier in the day he had added water to the jar of dehydrated sweetened beans. Warmed by the sun they were perfect and ready to eat.
He gave them some water and fixed them each a plate. They could have their lunch while he took the time to make the repair.
He heard them talking while he worked on the tire and then Josh approached him.
“You need any help?” he asked.
“No, I’m good. How’s your sister?” Falcon asked.
“Fine.”
“Maybe you should go sit with her.”
“I’d like to help you. She’s right there. You can hear her talking.”
That was true. Lilly went from rattling to Josh to rattling alone, and giggling as well. She was within ear shot. Since he was able to hear her just fine and Lilly continuously rambled to her doll, Falcon took Josh up on his offer of help. He did it more so to educate the boy than out of actual need for help.
“Hand me that big long metal tool,” Falcon told him. “I need to put the new one on.”
“Shouldn’t we blow it up first?” Josh asked.
Falcon paused. He didn’t know. He honestly didn’t know. He had never really changed a tire, only been told how. “What do you think?” he asked Josh.
“Well, the vike is heavy. I would think it would be easy to blow it up first and then put it on.”
America's Demise 01 - Wasteland Page 4
