“And our Melinda…she slipped into a dark place. Then she had Lucille and, and she’d just been so frightened. Lucy’s condition scared the hell out of her. She wouldn’t hold the baby. Wouldn’t nurse her. Gwen and I tried to help Melinda along. We tried to facilitate a bond between them, but Melinda just collapsed into herself. She was too far gone, I suppose.
“She’d just lost Shane, and then her pregnancy wasn’t at all what she had expected. We found that our little girl had left us on a cold winter morning. Lucy was just a few months old. She had been in the room, sleeping peacefully in her bassinet, when her mama took her own life. Every day I thank the good Lord that Melinda didn’t hurt that child before she left us.
“She…” he cleared his throat, “Melinda used a knife. There was just a short note. I’ve got it memorized. I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened, it said. I’ve got to go now, as there’s nothing left for me here. I love you, Mom and Dad. Take care of Lucy. That was it.”
His voice caught on that last part, and it took him a few minutes to get it back under control. Ben and Alice gave him the time.
“And that’s just what Gwen and I aim to do. As long as there is a breath in either one of us, we’ll take care of Lucy.”
Alice reached out in the darkness. She took Arthur’s hand, his knuckles swollen with arthritis, the palms covered with blisters from the long days spent pushing their things up from Bickley. “Then we’ll take care of her with you, Arthur. You can trust Ben and me, and you can count on us. We’ll do this together.”
He squeezed her hand in response. “I know it, Alice. I think I’ve known it from the minute that husband of yours stepped into our living room with a shotgun he had no intention of using, all those months ago.
“Good Lord, he was a scared young man!”
Ben grinned at the memory. “I’m really not much for guns, Arthur,” he agreed, touching his shoulder where he’d been shot.
“Can I ask you a question, Ben?” Arthur said.
“Go ahead.”
“How old are you?”
Ben took a deep breath. He hadn’t celebrated a birthday in…shoot, in years. He could tell that Alice was eager for his response too, and there was a curious tension on the porch. “I guess…let’s see, I guess I’m about thirty-one or thirty-two now. What year is it, precisely?”
“2051,” they replied at the same time.
“Then I’m thirty-one. My birthday is in November.”
Arthur laughed. “I guess I suspected as much.”
“What do you mean?” Ben said.
“You two aren’t really married, are you? I reckon a couple would know how old each other was if they’d swapped vows. There’s that, and also that neither of you has a ring.”
Ben felt his face flush. Alice was quiet. She took a sip of her tea.
“We’ve got a strong enough bond without all that, Arthur. We found each other, Ben and I did. That’s all we need.”
“Aye. Fair enough. But don’t forget that I’m a preacher, now. If you want to make it official, I’d love to help you kids out. It’d be my pleasure, after all you’ve done for us.”
Ben felt relief flood into him. The old man had a way of setting them at ease, and he hadn’t taken their little fiction as dishonesty. Rather, he’d probably intuited that they’d simply come to view each other as husband and wife, and he was happy to make things official.
“You just say the word, and Gwen and Lucy and I will throw you a hell of a fine shindig!”
They laughed at the old man’s peppery language and changed the subject to the coming fall, and before long they grew weary and retired to their rooms. Ben went from room to room, double checking the doors and windows. When he was content that they were safe, he slipped into bed beside Alice, whose nude skin was cool beneath the sheets.
“What do you—” he started, but she cut him off with a firm kiss. She stripped him out of his tee-shirt and shorts and they made frantic, passionate love. When they were finished, Alice fell asleep quickly, but Ben couldn’t follow her so easily. He laid there, a smile on his face, and he felt—contentment.
He felt peace.
He felt like things were so good that it was beginning to scare him
.
TWENTY-NINE
The seasons changed and the weather cooled. The climate shifts had eliminated Georgia’s abundant year-round growing season, so they picked the garden and the orchards clean and spent almost two full weeks putting the huge bounty of produce away for the winter. They canned some of it and dried most of it. The tubers and some of the hardier vegetable varieties kept well in the root cellar, and they had more than they could probably use.
When they were satisfied that they’d done a good job, they covered the garden with tarps and set about cutting as much hay from the countryside as they could for the ponies. It was back-breaking work, and Ben discovered muscles that he’d never knew existed.
Lucy excelled in her lessons and the Lawtons gained weight. With all five of them pitching in, they finished the chores earlier in the day, which left more time for leisure activities. Ben and Arthur found baseball gloves and had a daily game of catch. They took hikes into the countryside as a group, and they took Lucy fishing often.
She celebrated her sixth birthday in August, and they celebrated Ben’s birthday in November. On Thanksgiving, they had a feast of quail stuffed with cornmeal and wild mushrooms, along with a sweet onion casserole and mashed potatoes with rabbit gravy. Arthur had distilled a few jugs of hard apple cider and they got tipsy on the stuff and laughed around the table like families used to in the years before the Reset.
Life was good.
On what they thought might be December 01, Alice posed her question. She and Ben were watching the snow fall at the bay window off the dining room, sipping tea and waiting for the Lawtons to finish their math lesson with Lucy so they could play a board game in the kitchen. “Have you given it much thought?”
Ben had been giving it a lot of thought, actually, and he knew just what she was getting at. “Of course I have. What about you?”
Alice’s smile was so shy it was disarming. Every day, he saw a different aspect of this woman that drew her deeper into his heart. “I can’t help it, Ben. I know I’m robbing the cradle a little here, but I have to admit that getting married sounds—”
He darted forward and kissed her. She closed her eyes, kissed him back, and he pushed something into her free hand.
“Ben! Where did you get this? It’s…holy cow, it’s so beautiful!”
“Will you marry me, Alice?” he whispered. “Will you be my wife?”
“Of course I will. Of course I will, Ben!”
She threw her arms around his neck, which was good because he had time to swipe the tears from his eyes. When she released him, he took the ring and slipped it onto her finger.
“How did you get this, Ben? I’m in shock here!”
“It was a gift from the Lawtons. Arthur gave it to me in private, just after my birthday.”
“But where did it come from? It didn’t—this wasn’t Melinda’s, was it?”
Ben shook his head. “I wouldn’t have accepted it if it was. This was Arthur’s mother’s ring, Alice! It’s been in their family for generations. I told him I couldn’t take it—that I didn’t feel right about it—but he insisted. What do you think?”
Alice was crying now. She wiped away the tears while she studied the ring shining on her dainty finger. “I think it’s perfect. I’ve always loved the idea of a Christmas wedding.”
Ben kissed her again, and then the Lawtons were finished in the other room. Lucy sang a song about putting away her things and then ducked her head into the dining room.
“Monopoly time!” she shouted, grinning happily. “I get to be the horsey!”
They sat down to play, and they hadn’t made it around the board once before the Lawtons noticed Alice’s ring. They beamed their approval from across the table.
&nbs
p; “Well,” Arthur said, “Merry Christmas!”
They erupted in laughter and Lucy launched into a soliloquy on all the things she expected Santa to bring her in a few weeks.
Outside, the snow grew high in ashy drifts and the wind howled while dangerous men in shabby winter clothes stomped through the countryside, praying beneath their steaming breaths that they might find somewhere, anywhere, to rest their exhausted bodies
.
THIRTY
Arthur crunched the numbers, and he was just about certain that it was Christmas. They’d put up a tree, fashioning ornaments from an old felt blanket that Alice had cut into patterns. She and Lucy had decorated them with sequins and glitter that they’d found in an old sewing kit. It lent a festive air to the house, and after much deliberation they had decided to run the generators and have a proper wedding ceremony that afternoon.
They ate a huge Christmas breakfast, basking in the luxury of the periodic heat blasts slipping through the baseboard vents. They took long, extended turns in the bath. For the Lawtons, it was the cleanest they’d felt since the power grid had fallen a few months after the Reset.
“My God, I feel like a man again!” Arthur said after he’d dressed in his best suit. “It’s like—it’s like I’m back in the pulpit again. I’d forgotten what it felt like, honest to God.”
They wore their finest clothes. Ben found a suit in the closet and he took his time cleaning it. It was a little short, but it would do. Gwen cut his hair and he shaved and soaked for a long time before scrubbing himself pink.
Alice sequestered herself in the back of the house, and Gwen and Lucy flitted about her, helping her with the preparations. The house was filled with excitement.
Arthur cleared out the furniture in the living room. He hung a sprig of mistletoe from the ceiling and set up chairs for Lucy and Gwen. They swept the hardwoods and Gwen and Lucy tacked a long white sheet to the floor, creating a path through the center of the room.
At 2:00 p.m. sharp, Arthur surprised them all by playing Pachelbel’s “Canon” on the stereo. He kept the volume low, but the sheer beauty of the composition—of the possibility it represented for man’s potential to create important things—brought tears to their eyes. Gwen wept freely, and Lucy merely listened, mouth agape, to something she’d never experienced before.
Arthur wore his full vestments over his suit.
“What do you think?” Ben said. He stepped into the room, grinning, and Gwen put a hand to her chest.
“My word, Benjamin Stone! You look so handsome!”
Lucy put her arms up and Ben picked her up. She traced the tips of her fingers across his shaved cheeks, through his hair, down the lapels of his suit. “Very handsome, Ben!”
“Stand here, Ben,” Arthur said, directing Ben to his right. When everything was in place, he touched a button on the remote and Mahler’s tenth poured into the room. “We’re ready, Gwendolyn,” he said, and his wife beamed. She stood and left the room; when she returned, she had Alice with her.
Ben swallowed, but there was no more air in the room. He cleared his throat and forced himself to take a breath.
“We’re ready for the bride. Please join us, Alice.”
She’d been hard at work with the sewing kit, and she’d done an amazing job. She wore a summer dress the color of peaches, with white sandals and a rose veil that she’d crafted from scratch. Gwen had washed and styled her hair, and her red tresses hung in fancy curls over her shoulders. She clutched a bouquet of dried roses in her hands.
Her smile was radiant, even behind the veil, and she walked with confidence and pride down the path. There was a gleam in her green eyes.
“Let’s begin,” Arthur said, falling easily into his element. He read from his Bible and worked through a ceremony he’d delivered hundreds of times before—the ceremony he’d been pretty sure he’d never deliver again.
When it came time to exchange vows, Ben went first. “Alice, when I found you that day in the orchards, I was so scared. I’d been by myself for so long, and I wasn’t sure how I could even…even trust another person. I was frightened back then, and I’m frightened a little right now, because the only thing I want in this life is to be the kind of man that you can love and rely on. I want to be the kind of husband and partner that you can always trust will love you unconditionally.
“I won’t promise you that our life together will be easy. I can’t promise you that we’ll be safe, or even that we’ll be able to stay here. But I can promise you that I’ll fight for you with everything I have. I’ll…I’ll always love you, and I’ll always be thankful to you for saving me. Thank you for coming into my life, Alice.”
She smiled, blinking back tears, and reached out and took his hand.
“I never knew I could be this happy, Ben. I’d given up, and then I met you and I feel like a brand new person. I love you, Ben Stone. I’ll stand with you, and I promise to share everything—the good and the bad—with you for the rest of my life.
“I promise to love you.”
Arthur was so taken by their exchange that he missed his cue. He recovered, stammering, and asked them to seal their bond with a kiss. Ben leaned forward and felt the same jolt that had shot through him the first time their lips met on the way to Bickley. They held the kiss for a moment and then turned and grinned at Gwen and Lucy.
“And now, it’s with great admiration and pride that I present to you, Benjamin and Alice Stone! May your connection be a source of strength to you both through all the rest of your days!”
Alice knelt and gave the bouquet to Lucy. The little girl beamed, and Alice pulled her up and into a tight embrace. Gwen stood and she and Arthur wrapped their arms around the newlyweds. They passed out jars of hard cider (and apple juice for Lucy) and toasted the marriage, and that night they dined on rosemary venison steaks with roasted potatoes and the last of the year’s salad greens.
They watched an animated movie on the television, Lucy chuckling all the way through the film while she snacked on trail mix, and when everyone finally turned in for the evening, the miracle farm was filled with an air of contentment. Everyone felt…satisfied and happy. It was as though they’d cleared another hurdle together, and the ceremony had brought them even closer together.
Who knew what tomorrow would bring? Who could guess which new indignities loomed on the horizon? None of it mattered on that night.
Ben and Alice made love, and this time it was different. They’d always been careful in the past, right from the start. It had been like walking a tightrope, and neither harbored much serious confidence that they might become pregnant, but they’d been cautious nevertheless.
Their relationship had changed, though, and on their wedding night things were much different. When they were finished, Alice put her head against Ben’s chest and let go with a satisfied sigh.
“That was so good, Ben,” she whispered. “My gosh, that was good.”
He kissed the top of her head, stroking her red hair in the candlelight. “I love you so much, Alice. It’s so nice to be closer to you in that way.”
“I love you, too,” she yawned. She kissed his chest and, an instant later, she was snoring softly.
Sheesh, how could she do that? Ben listened to her sleeping for a time, hoping he could join her, but his mind was restless.
That damned television. The entire time they were watching the movie, he’d been thinking about the DVR.
Alice’s snores grew deeper. Ben carefully extricated himself from her embrace and quickly dressed. He extinguished the candle and made his way down the hallway in the dark. The heat kicked in and he smiled a little as the warmth billowed down the corridor.
He poured himself a large jar of hard cider and turned on the television. Static filled the screen, of course, but he flipped through the channels anyway. They’d done it a few times, never registering so much as a blip of broadcasting.
He got the same result and navigated to the list of recorded programs. There were m
aybe two dozen movies—most geared toward the Winstons’ children. But they’d also recorded the Super Bowl, and there seemed to be dozens of hours of recorded news stories that probably depicted life after the Reset.
He found the Super Bowl footage, took a long pull on his drink and pressed ‘PLAY.’ He was stunned to see the chaos erupting there on the screen. Whoever had watched it last had switched it off right smack in the middle of the maelstrom.
He backed the footage up and took a deep breath before starting it up again. Watching football was simply surreal. The holographic simulcast had been indecipherable from the game down in Miami, and there were thousands of spectators there watching a game, an athletic contest littered with silly digital advertisements pitching products from a life that was so foreign from his own that he could barely remember it.
After about twenty minutes, a hush fell over the stadium and the broadcasters cut to the footage of the Space Needle disintegrating in a cauldron of smoke and fire. From there, it played out just as Alice said it had.
There were shots from Denver and Charlotte and Pittsburg, and then Miami was gone. Seconds later, Manhattan had been vaporized and the feed bounced around the country like a hot potato as the largest markets fell, one after the next. Dallas and San Francisco and Phoenix each had a brief turn on the air. So did Philadelphia and Cincinnati. Ultimately, the feed was picked up and maintained by a powerful broadcasting station located in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
“The America you woke up in this morning is gone,” a harried young man with a southern twang in his voice said. He stood so close to the camera lens that you could see the crimson veins in his eyes and the beads of sweat on his upper lip. “This is all that we know. At approximately 4:19 Pacific Standard Time, Seattle was decimated by a nuclear explosion. This was the first in a series of what has been confirmed now as seventeen similar detonations in cities across the country. I repeat—seventeen major U.S. cities have been attacked in a coordinated act of terrorism. While it’s impossible to confirm at this time, it is believed that the President was killed in the attack on Miami. The Vice President and Speaker of the House lost their lives in the attack on Washington, D.C., and this station has been unable to contact a single acting member of the Human Accord’s board of trustees.
The Reset Page 16
