Forager - the Complete Six Book Series (A Post Apocalyptic/Dystopian Series)

by Peter R Stone

  "Not even amnesia?"

  "Nope."

  "I’m gonna have to watch my step with you," I laughed, reflecting on how much I loved this girl.

  "You sure will. But tell me, now you know when my birthday is, are you gonna do anything special? I mean, women aren't allowed in restaurants here, are they?"

  "No."

  "Didn’t think so."

  I smiled as an idea popped into my mind and rapidly took form. I'd make this a birthday she'd never forget. "Don't cook dinner tomorrow night, okay? I've got a plan."

  "Please tell me your plan's not going to your parents for dinner," she groaned.

  "I'm not saying anything. Anyways, I’ve got to go or I’ll be late to work."

  I grabbed my backpack and threw in a bottle of water and a couple of pieces of fruit. Nanako then went and impressed the socks off me by handing me her black lunchbox, tied shut by a checked handkerchief.

  "You made me obento? Wow, you sure are spoiling me."

  "I am?"

  "Just don't stop, okay?"

  "If you insist."

  "I do."

  She saw me to the door, pecked a kiss on my cheek, and stood there, watching me go until I was out of sight. It occurred to me that I had extra-special incentive to hurry home after work tonight, and not just tonight, but every night for the rest of my life.

  Chapter Twelve

  I got to the Recycling-Works five minutes late, and as usual, David and Shorty were already there. They’d been assigned the mentally stimulating job of pulling apart a bunch of century-old gas hot-water units and were stripping out the metals our factories could use. I watched the two of them working and felt a sharp pang in my chest – for Michal wasn’t here, dour yet encouraging, strict yet compassionate - and keeping them in line when they needed it.

  "How you boys doing?" I asked.

  "Super," Shorty said with a grin.

  "David?" I asked when it was obvious he wasn’t going to reply. Something was still bugging him.

  "I'm fine," he said, making brief eye contact.

  "You sure, mate?"

  "No seriously, I'm fine - just tired," he assured me, attempting a smile. He still hadn’t got over feeling bad because of what he did to Leigh, and probably never would. Fortunately, pain had a habit of diminishing over time. We were all grieving over Michal's passing as well.

  "Fair enough."

  "Oh - Jones?" Shorty said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "The boss wants to see you - you’re gonna get in trouble."

  "For what, we haven’t been here!"

  "Get upstairs and you'll find out," he said ominously.

  "Okay. And hey, let's catch up at lunch time," I said as I headed for the stairs.

  "Aye, aye, Cap’n," Shorty said with a salute. Seriously, the lad was incorrigible.

  I clipped him over the head and hurried upstairs to the boss’ poorly lit office.

  My boss was sitting at his desk and pouring over a ledger. He was a big guy, taller than I was, and used to be a body-builder or something but must have quit a few years ago for his muscles were slowly turning to flab. He was going bald too, making him look older than he was. I figured he was in his early to mid thirties.

  He looked up from the ledger and smiled warmly. "Good to see you back, Ethan, though I see you've added another injury to your collection."

  "Thank you, sir. And yeah, people keep shooting at me."

  "Nothing serious, I hope?"

  "Looks worse than it is."

  "Well, glad you're finally well enough to come back to work," he said as he ran a hand through his thinning hair. "But I'm going to keep you in the office with me until I'm satisfied you're back to full strength."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "And Ethan?"

  "Yes sir?"

  "I hear you guys had a rough time of it, you know, over the past four days."

  "You could say that," I said wistfully.

  "Sorry about Michal and Leigh, they were top blokes."

  "Yeah, I know. Thanks."

  After that, I set to work helping the boss catch up with his filing, for literally a year's worth of recycled-metal requisition forms, consignment notes, and delivery receipts had been dumped on the floor in ungainly piles. Putting them together and filing them in date order was gonna be fun.

  * * *

  I went downstairs at lunchtime to eat with the lads, and found them munching on their lunches while sitting on a large yellow paper-and-cardboard recycling bin.

  I hopped onto the bin and took the obento lunch out of my backpack.

  "You're gonna be getting one of them special lunches every day from now on, eh?" Shorty asked enviously.

  "Yep," I said as I popped a roll of fried egg into my mouth.

  "That's so unfair."

  "Yep." I marvelled at my wife’s workmanship as I ate, she’d even turned slices of pickles into little fish – with eyes and all.

  "Never thought of food as being a vehicle for the expression of someone's artistic talent before," David mused as he glanced at my lunch.

  "What'd you just say?" Shorty asked, brows raised in confusion.

  "Nanako make food look like artwork," David explained as though speaking to a baby.

  "Oh, gotcha," Shorty laughed.

  "Tell me, how're you guys finding it working out here?" I asked. To be honest, I wished I could be down here with them, not pushing piles of paper around the boss' floor.

  "I think I missed my life's calling, this is the real deal," Shorty said cynically.

  "What?" David grumbled, "Compared to foraging, this sucks big time."

  "You're missing Michal and Leigh, right?" I queried gently.

  "You think Leigh's gonna be all right, Jones?" David asked worriedly, "I was so not happy about leaving him behind."

  "I think we can trust Councillor Okada to look after him," I said, trying to reassure him.

  "But you heard what they said? They wanted to execute us as terrorists."

  "Right, they're gonna execute Leigh when he's in hospital with three bullet wounds that he got while trying to stop King blowing up their city. I don't think so."

  "I see your point, but I'm still not happy."

  "I just wish we could have brought Michal's body back with us so he could have gotten a proper burial here," I said.

  They both nodded, and Shorty said, "You know, we really could have used Michal today."

  We fell silent at that comment, eating our lunches while reflecting on good times spent with our friends.

  "How did you and Michal become such good friends anyway, Jones?" Shorty asked. "Didn't he pick on you or something when he got to secondary college?"

  "Michal picked on just about everybody when he got to secondary college," David said wryly.

  "But why?" Shorty asked.

  "He wasn't a happy kid when he was twelve," I explained.

  "And he'd already reached his full height," David added. "No one could stand up to him, not even those in year nine."

  "So what happened, how'd you end up such good friends, then, Jones?" Shorty asked.

  "Jones wouldn't fight him, or anyone else for that matter," David began. "And so Michal called him a wuss and used to heap it on him. But one day the Darby brothers were beating up on this skinny Chinese kid during recess and Jones just went and stood in front of the kid so the Darby brothers had to attack him instead."

  "And then? Come on, don't keep me in suspense!" Shorty demanded.

  "Well, Michal saw Jones just standing there and taking it, not fighting back, just blocking their attempts to attack the Chinese kid. And so Michal went over and clobbered the Darby brothers, and then he said Jones was actually brave, not a wuss. From there on, those three were inseparable."

  "And in case you didn't pick up on it, the 'skinny Chinese kid' was David," I added.

  "Wow, what a story," Shorty said, whistling.

  "I know, right?" I said, and sighed. What I'd give to have Michal back with us right now.
He'd had such a difficult childhood, but from within the bonds of our three-way friendship, he changed to become one of the wisest and most caring guys I'd met.

  "Hey guys," I said, changing the topic, "It’s Nanako's birthday tomorrow, and I was wondering if you would help me do something special for her."

  "Of course, but how? Just about everything she’s used to doing isn't allowed here," David pointed out.

  "I’m not planning on doing anything legal," I replied.

  "Oooh, then sign me up," Shorty said with glee.

  "Sure," David agreed.

  And so I told them my idea.

  * * *

  I couldn't get home from work fast enough, for my flat was no longer the lifeless, empty place I spent little time in, but my home.

  Nanako welcomed me with a stunning smile when I slipped in through the front door and told me dinner was ready. She had prepared a dish called Yakisoba, which was comprised of fried noodles, chicken, cabbage, and carrot. She had improvised of course, replacing some of the normal ingredients with what she could find in our markets.

  She’d gone shopping with my mother today and had bought a couple of yards of cloth – black, of course. After that, she'd spent a few hours with my mother working on the dress she wanted to make. She knew how to sew and knit, of course, but hadn't attempted anything on such a grand scale before. (All the women in Newhome learned how to make their own clothes from an early age.)

  After dinner, we spent the last night of her eighteenth year snuggled together on the sofa, watching reruns of some lame sit-com while I massaged her legs from ankle to thigh.

  We were just about to turn in for the night when the phone rang.

  "Ethan speaking," I answered, thinking it must be one of the lads.

  "It starts tomorrow," Sienna King said, and hung up.

  I stood there, staring at the mouthpiece, my heart beating faster. What would start tomorrow? What was she planning? Had I misjudged her ability to exact revenge upon us?

  "Who was it?" Nanako asked as she turned town the bed covers.

  "Wrong number," I said as I joined her.

  * * *

  The next morning I got up before Nanako and made us a simple breakfast. After that, I popped out and returned with a bunch of black roses and a simple glass vase in which to put them.

  "Now you’ve gone and done it," she said with a big grin as she accepted them.

  "Done what?" I queried, puzzled.

  "You’re about to learn, or should I say, re-learn, something about me," she said as she dug through the kitchen drawer and took out a pair of scissors.

  She put water in the vase and then took the lot to the dining room table, where she set about meticulously trimming stems, clipping leaves, and then setting the roses in the vase one by one, arranging and rearranging them as she went.

  "You could’ve just put them in the vase," I pointed out, fascinated by the amazing arrangement that was beginning to take form.

  She shot a quick glance in my direction. "I’m an obsessive compulsive flower arranger."

  I snorted in amusement – of all the compulsions someone could have... "I take it I’ve given you flowers before."

  "Yep."

  "And you did this to them every time."

  "Sure did."

  "You’re simply priceless," I said and gave her a peck on the cheek. "But I’ve got to go or I’ll be late."

  "Take care," she mumbled.

  "I’ll be back around eight – and remember, don’t make dinner. Oh, and put on your black funeral - I mean wedding - dress."

  "Mmm, hmmm," was her only response.

  I grabbed my backpack, weighed down by today’s obento, fruit and water bottles, and ducked out the door. She didn’t see me to the door, or even look up, just kept working on that flower arrangement.

  * * *

  I got home at eight and let myself in, expecting to meet a very curious Nanako at the door. But to my surprise, she was nowhere in sight. She wasn't in the bathroom, or the lounge-bedroom. The vase with the flower arrangement was in the middle of the dining room table, and it was truly a work of art. But there was no Nanako.

  Having no other ideas, I was about to ring my mother and ask if she was there, when I caught sight of Nanako sitting outside on the balcony, leaning back against the glass. I hurried outside to see if she was okay, and realised something was wrong when I saw her troubled expression.

  "You okay?" I asked as I knelt on the tiled balcony floor beside her.

  "No," she whispered, refusing to meet my gaze.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I went to the market with your mother today and no one would serve me."

  "Say what?"

  "They either refused to serve me, told me to leave their stalls, or just plain ignored me. One man told me 'Japs aren't welcome here.'" She looked up. "What's going on, Ethan? Where did this come from? They were so nice to me when the Custodians were mean to us."

  Sienna King.

  This was her work, it had to be. She must have seen Nanako shopping at the market and then ran around bagging her. A deep fear erupted in the pits of my guts and swirled around in agitation. So much for my belief there was nothing Sienna could do to get at us. "So what happened then?" I asked.

  "Your mother asked a couple of the stallholders why they wouldn't serve me. They wouldn't tell her much, but they mentioned hearing a rumour that the Japanese were behind the Skel attack on Newhome Sunday week ago. How they knew who I was, let alone that I'm Japanese, they wouldn't say."

  I buried my head in my hands and concluded I had to tell her about Sienna's threat. No doubt she'd be angry I hid it from her, but surely she'd see I was trying to protect her from worrying about what I had considered an empty threat. On the other hand, I was leaping to conclusions by assuming this was her doing. It could be the Custodian's handiwork for all I knew.

  "I do have a theory, though," Nanako said, looking up. "I kept seeing Sienna and her mother when I was shopping yesterday. If I didn't know better, I'd say they were following us."

  "Maybe they were." So much for thinking it could have been the Custodians.

  "Did you see the way she was looking at me when they visited us two nights ago? She's got it in for me, I reckon."

  "Well, we know she resents us, and you in particular, for the whole ugly affair of her broken engagement. And if she's anything like her brother, this is exactly the sort of thing she would do," I said, feeling disturbed. If Sienna could turn all the shop owners and stallholders against Nanako, it was going to turn her life here into a most unpleasant ordeal. As if her life hadn't been hard enough already.

  "That's what I was afraid of," Nanako sighed.

  "What are we going to do? I can go with you on the weekend and try and get some sense into the jerks," I said, wanting to bash a few stallholders’ heads together.

  "You can't fight fire with fire. That only makes it worse."

  "So what do we do then?"

  "I'll have to do what I did today - stand back and let your mother buy the stuff for me."

  "For how long - days, weeks, years?" I asked, frustrated. Nanako had looked forward to living here and being a normal housewife, and I couldn't bear the thought of her being persecuted like this.

  "Surely they'll forget about this soon."

  "If Sienna lets them," I grumbled.

  "That's if it was her," Nanako said.

  "Good point."

  Nanako suddenly perked up. "Well, today's my birthday and I'm not gonna let what happened today ruin it. Or ruin your plans, whatever they may be," she said, eyeing me with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation.

  "Righteo - just give me a few minutes to shower and get changed," I said as I darted inside.

  After the shower, I dressed in black stretch jeans and a dark blue shirt. It was half-past-eight now, and getting dark outside.

  Nanako had come indoors, so I presented her my elbow. "Well, shall we?"

  She slipped her hand in my elbow
and looked at me in astonishment when I led her out the door. "We're dining out?"

  "Yep."

  "But you said..."

  "You'll see."

  I led her to the elevator and we rode it to the tenth floor. After that, we slipped into the stairwell and climbed the stairs that led to the roof. Nanako was looking up at me with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

  I knocked on the door, and it was opened immediately by a waiter wearing black. "Welcome to the Roof Top Restaurant. If you would follow me, I'll lead you to your table."

  "David?" Nanako whispered to me as we followed my fellow forager out onto the roof where a plastic fold-up table and chairs had been set up beneath the twilight sky. Another waiter - Shorty - stood a few steps back from the table with a bag at his feet.

  "Your table, sir, ma'am," David said as he pulled out our chairs and helped us to sit.

  Nanako gave me a beautiful smile that warmed my heart. "You've been busy, Husband."

  I took her hands in mine. "Happy nineteenth birthday, Nanako."

  "Would ma'am like to see the menu?" Shorty asked as he approached and offered her a hand-written menu.

  "It would be good if I could see the menu," Nanako replied, trying very hard not to laugh. It wasn't completely dark yet, but was too dark to read.

  "Oh, right," Shorty said with a chuckle as he stepped closer and held a torch to the menu.

  "Hmm, I'll have the Chinese three course meal, please," she said.

  "Sir?"

  "I'll have what she's having," I replied. Not that I had any choice, of course, for it was the only item on the menu.

  Shorty and David proceeded to serve us a scrumptious meal generously cooked by David's mother and sister, served in plastic containers. Entree was chicken and sweet corn soup, and the main dish was fried noodles and vegetables. We chatted as we ate and nine o'clock came and went, meaning the curfew was now in effect. We probably should have come up here after it was completely dark, but I figured we'd be just as hard to spot up here at twilight as during the night. Besides, even if someone in a neighbouring apartment block spotted us up here after curfew, they wouldn't report it, as the Custodians were not exactly everyone's favourites.