The Afterlife of Alice Watkins 2

by Matilda Scotney

  Chapter 15

  Several days following her return home Alice was in her garden, tending the vegetables she'd planted and picking the fruit that grew in record time. The aunties gave her a patch of earth for her to experiment in what they called “traditional method”. That meant growing fruit and vegetables without the aid of technology—the process preferred by most people of this century.

  Alice knelt in the dirt, digging happily, aerating the soil, picking berries and literally enjoying the fruits of her labour. She felt blissfully happy and at peace, having consigned the day out with Principal Ryan to a one-off—most likely never to be repeated—pleasant experience. Her devoted companion, Pecky, had developed a secondary relationship with her sunhat, so wherever she went on the property, he perched himself on the brim. That morning, Alice popped a poncho over her shirt, tucked her hair into her hat, and tied a sarong around her waist so her clothes wouldn't get too soiled. She looked like an old market gardener, but then—she wasn't expecting visitors.

  Principal Ryan arrived, unannounced, on a Tabernacle automatrans and walked towards the house. Two figures were fishing on the beach, and from the lights, he could tell they were using forcefield lures. Even from this distance, he knew neither of them was Alice. They must be the aunties, he reasoned, which meant Alice would either be in the house or around the gardens.

  A noisy and urgent squawking drew his attention. A figure, swathed in a poncho, knelt on the ground—probably the gardener, perhaps he or she might know where to find Alice. Ryan headed towards the source of the noise, suppressing a smile as he came upon the delightfully pastoral scene.

  Alice was digging at the ground, mounding up the earth at the base of a small plant, a basket with fruit and vegetables by her side and a large hat on her head. Atop the hat, a young parrot—wings outstretched, tiny beak wide with threats—made noble, but ineffective attempts to scare away a hen with her chicks.

  So engrossed was Alice in her task, she didn’t at first notice his arrival, until his broad frame cast a shadow, causing her to look up, gloved hand lifted to shield her eyes from the sun.

  “Principal Ryan, are you lost? Space is that way.”

  She pointed upwards with her trowel, and he looked up, even though he knew full well the direction of space, he’d lived there most of his adult life.

  “Dr Langley, I hope you don’t mind me just turning up.”

  She got to her feet and picked up her basket. The little parrot eyed him, but then decided he might make an excellent perch and to Alice’s horror, fluttered across and landed on Principal Ryan’s shoulder. He wasn’t in uniform, but Pecky hadn’t shown himself to be fussy about pulling clothes to pieces. The new perch just simply turned his head and spoke to the bird, who kissed him and pulled his hair.

  “You’ve been busy. What are you growing?”

  She held out a handful of fruit.

  “They’re raspberries, Principal Ryan,” she said, her voice a mix of wonderment and pride. “Would you believe, I grew them? I never grew anything before these.”

  Alice, always so carefully groomed and attired—to see her now, dirty face and raspberry juice-stained hands, he found her particularly endearing, entirely at home in these surroundings, unmindful of her appearance.

  “They’re enormous,” he took a raspberry from her hand. It was almost the size of a walnut. Pecky made a lunge for the berry, but Principal Ryan was too quick and put the fruit into the basket, ignoring the scolding he received from the bird in response.

  “I’d been worried about them while I was away,” she admitted, “but the aunties take such care, I should have trusted them.” Alice wiped her hands on her clothes. “Come up to the house, Principal Ryan, they would love to meet you.”

  He took the basket from her while she retrieved her trowel.

  But the automatrans had already drawn their interest, and Mary and Jane were hurrying from the beach to find out who was visiting. They hoped it might be Patrick, come back unexpectedly. Instead, next to Alice, stood a large, distinguished, fair-haired and official-looking man. Jane gave Mary a sideways glance. He must be Principal Ryan. Alice had described him well.

  “Principal Ryan, Mary and Jane Greer.”

  He bowed to them both.

  “Dr Greer and Dr Greer.”

  Mary offered him a chair. “Principal Ryan, we are just about to have tea. We hope you will join us?”

  Alice swept Pecky from her visitor’s shoulder and put him back on her hat, before depositing both hat and bird on the verandah railing.

  “Thank you, Dr Greer, most kind.”

  “We have some lamingtons, little cakes Alice invented,” Jane offered.

  “I didn’t invent lamingtons,” Alice protested pointlessly.

  “I’ve tried another of Dr Langley’s inventions,” Principal Ryan told them. “Hamburgers.”

  “Oh yes, we’ve had them too, they’re delicious, aren’t they?”

  “I didn’t invent hamburgers,” Alice mumbled, but no-one listened. When tea was ready, the cakes were duly offered around, Alice declined, drawing a look of surprise from Auntie Jane.

  “I ate the raspberries as I picked them,” she looked at Principal Ryan and pulled a guilty face, “I couldn’t resist.” She saw the corners of his mouth move with his trademark grinning-but-not-grinning. He inclined his head towards her politely.

  “I see you cultivate your garden using traditional methods, Dr Langley.”

  “I like the feel and smell of the earth, Principal Ryan, and I believe nothing is lost in growing things the old-fashioned way!”

  “Let’s put some on the table.” Mary took the basket and placed the berries in a dish.

  "Alice has done a magnificent job with them, Principal Ryan, she's very diligent, and they grew so quickly. She put Jorrocks's manure on them—would you like to try them?" Mary held out the dish towards him.

  Oh, my goodness! Alice felt the colour drain from her face. He would think they had poo on them! Why did people in this century make so free with such personal words? She hurried to reassure him.

  “It was a while ago Principal Ryan, and I’ve eaten them since. They’re quite safe, you won’t get a mouthful of…” she trailed off, the end of the sentence becoming lost in the realisation she didn’t want to explain what it was he wouldn’t get a mouthful of.

  But Principal Ryan grew up around horses and animals and the outdoor life, so unperturbed, he took some of the raspberries. Pecky wandered over and stood on the back of his hand to beg for berries, and Principal Ryan broke one up for him. This small action, and a little bird's trust told all three women a good deal about Principal Ryan.

  “So, to what do we owe this pleasure, Principal Ryan? Alice told us you were a most attentive guide to Tibet,” Mary asked after a few minutes. Principal Ryan didn’t seem to offer a lot in conversation, and the aunties were a lot less comfortable with silences than Alice.

  "We had a most enjoyable day, Dr Greer," he said. "Now, in the absence of Dr Langley's friend, Statesman Patrick, Principal Katya asked…" he smiled politely at Alice, "that with her agreement, I act as a guide to some of Earth's most interesting areas."

  “How wonderful. Alice, do you hear that? There are so many fascinating places to see,” Mary said, her face alight with enthusiasm.

  “I can’t imagine anywhere more beautiful than here, Mary, but Tibet came a close second.”

  “May we suggest the Top of the World, Principal Ryan, or Florence!” Jane mentioned a couple of her own favourite places.

  “Worthy destinations, Dr Greer, perhaps another time. I was considering Peru, if you can spare her, of course. Dr Langley has already taken many days away from you, attending the Cotillion Ball.”

  “Of course, we can spare her. Alice can choose for herself. Alice?” Mary would tread carefully here, remembering she pushed Alice into going with Statesman Patrick, although, she sensed, Alice seemed far less reluctant this time.

  "I don't know where Peru
is," Alice admitted.

  “A place of history, Dr Langley,” Principal Ryan told her. “There’s a citadel there, deemed to have been built by the Incas in the 15th century. Certain astronomical alignments, which of course, I find fascinating, remain undeciphered. Its original purpose has never properly been defined—possibly a city, possibly a sacred place. Over the centuries, many theories have emerged and subsequently been disproved, but the site is well preserved and no longer explored for its historical significance, only by a few interested scientists and architects."

  “Sounds like me,” Alice said without thinking.

  They looked at her. Secretly yes, they all supposed. A little like her.

  “Machu Picchu, Alice, hidden from the Spanish when they invaded the Americas,” Mary smiled a secret smile across at Jane,

  “We loved it there,” Jane sighed. “It’s a special place for us, but we haven’t been for years sadly.”

  For the first time Alice saw something approaching regret that Mary and Jane couldn’t go to a special place together. Alice had never heard of Machu Picchu.

  “The Americas? Not a principality? Is it a long way from the Tabernacle, from here?”

  “It isn’t so far,” Principal Ryan said, “but it is inaccessible by shuttle. Much of the Americas is designated a province, not a principality, I’ll explain later. We would have to take an automatrans to get high enough, and there is a lot of trekking, but I don’t believe it will present a problem for you.”

  “Will you stay at the Stable?” Mary asked.

  Principal Ryan started to reply but Alice, in her sudden dismay, interrupted him.

  “Stay? We have to stay there?”

  “Yes Alice,” Mary answered, “by the time you get there it will be morning, and you would need a couple of days to explore, you have to stay.”

  “The Stable is an experience, Alice,” Jane chimed in for support. “You sleep on straw.” Alice had never tried anything like it, it sounded intriguing. And with an opportunity to spend time with Principal Ryan now presenting itself, she'd get over her worries about being away from home. She stood and headed to her room to shower and change.

  “I’d better go and pack a toothbrush.”

  “It can get cool at night, Dr Langley,” Ryan said as she stood, “you may need some warm clothes, and there are insects that bite, so wear long sleeves as well.”

  He loved those off the shoulder blouses she wore, but he would have to forgo that pleasure to save her getting bitten or from freezing to death.

  Alice nodded. It was nice of him to come all this way to take her sightseeing when he probably had better things to do.

  “I will, Principal Ryan, but I wish you would call me Alice.”

  She’d asked him that at the monastery, but Doctor, Principal, Statesman, formal titles, last names, came so easily to him. In the company of people he didn’t know, it was proper to address her by her title but…

  “Very well—Alice.”

  Mary watched his expression during the exchange. It was plain to her, the expedition to Tibet made a significant impression on this important man, enough for him to turn up without warning with plans to take Alice to Peru.

  “It’s Alexis without the ‘x’, Principal Ryan,” Mary said, as Alice disappeared into her room.

  “Something like that,” they heard Alice call out.

  “Toothbrush?” Principal Ryan turned back to Mary and Jane.

  “Yes, a device from her time to clean and freshen teeth, before wafers,” Mary explained.

  “I see.” He didn't really; he couldn't even imagine it.

  “She has other funny sayings,” Mary lowered her voice, just in case Alice overheard, “we understand some of them now.”

  “That’s right,” Jane added, “when she’s tidied up after a meal, she declares everywhere ‘spick and span’.”

  “Yes,” Mary looked towards the hallway, “we looked up ancient sayings—it means clean and tidy.”

  Principal Ryan found this information amusing, his slight smile encouraging the aunties.

  “And she also says, ‘flying by the seat of her pants’,” Jane said with a grin, “that means she’s guessing what to do and doesn’t really know.”

  “She refers to herself as ‘mummy’ to Pecky,” Mary nodded towards the little parrot now sleeping on Alice’s discarded hat.

  Alice gave Principal Ryan many reasons to smile—her simplicity, her gentleness, and he loved learning about her from her aunts. He'd vacillated between contacting her and going back to the ship, not wishing to appear too eager. His aunt hadn't sent him to see Alice, he hadn't even confided in her that he planned to come here, but he didn't want to admit it to Alice or her aunts at this point. Where Alice was concerned, where any woman was concerned, he could only ‘fly by the seat of his pants'.

  Alice packed as instructed and kissed Mary and Jane and Pecky goodbye. The trio watched them leave.

  “He seems pleasant enough,” Mary said. “I wonder how many others there’ll be, beating a path to our door?”

  And they laughed and hugged as the shuttle rose into the air. This must be what it’s like to be parents— if so, they loved it.

  Chapter 16

  “It’s kind of you to give up your free time to show me around, Principal Ryan,” Alice said when the aunties were out of sight. He looked nice today, she thought, not dressed in the same film star style as Patrick, but informal and individual in his own way. His hair, minus the regulation oil or whatever officers without ponytails used on their hair to tame wayward locks, was free to flop about his forehead and collar, though she doubted he dressed with anything other than functionality in mind.

  “Alice,” he smiled at her as soon as they were inside the automatrans. “As I am to call you by your preferred name, and as we are to spend a few days together and I am at leisure, I think it appropriate for you to use my name. It’s Noah. I would prefer not to be referred to as Principal Ryan at Machu Picchu if you don’t mind.”

  “Yes, OK, Noah. Patrick told me your name.”

  “Did he indeed? I would have thought your conversations would involve more entertaining topics!”

  She smiled a little but didn’t let on what most of her meetings with Patrick entailed.

  “Like Noah from the bible, commanding a big ship,” she said.

  “Christian mythology. Are you knowledgeable?”

  “Me?” she almost spluttered. “Not at all. I just suffered from all the guilt and anxiety my mother, who called herself Christian, instilled in me.”

  “That surprises me. I’m no expert, but I understood Christianity brought considerable peace to its adherents.”

  “Not to my mother, fearing God was agony. Do you still have Christians?”

  “Yes, we do. Those who choose that way at retirement live a communal life within a realm. Tibet is an example of a realm, but there is no city there as A’khet and the monks are completely self-sufficient. They have no use for such amenities. Most other realms have no buildings apart from the communal housing and a basic city, but they still have to comply with the statutes of the loyalties.”

  “What kinds of statutes? You mean laws?”

  “Yes, laws. Anyone who wishes to unite with a religious group can only do so after their service to the world is complete—when they retire. If they become unable to serve before then, the World Principal can allow them to enter their chosen realm if there is no hope of them ever returning to service.”

  “Can they leave the realms?”

  “Of course, but the realms are like the Calamities in that there are restrictions on travel. Single travel only is allowed, but their families and friends can visit.”

  “With a married couple, what if the husband or wife doesn’t wish to live in the realm?”

  “The partner could go alone and leave the other in the loyalties, I suppose. As I said, I’m no expert. I don’t know if it has ever happened. With the system for matching couples, these leanings are consi
dered at the time of marriage application. Not all Christians go to the realms, but if they wish to worship openly and within congregations, fellowship with like-minded individuals would have considerable appeal.

  “Do you have Muslims?”

  “Yes, we do, and the same applies. And people who embrace Judaism, but all of them gain great joy from serving their world, then gain great joy from retiring into their communities and being with people who understand their beliefs. They don’t mind the restrictions. If they did, they wouldn’t go.”

  “People of my time would have accused this society of intolerance.”

  “That may be so, but those differences and the attempts to integrate them led to wars in the past. We don’t have those conflicts now, and I dare say if you spoke to any member of the world’s population, they would say our system works.”

  “In my country, Australia, we proudly proclaimed ourselves multicultural, and we were, provided whoever came there became one of us. We still feared differences, religious, political, colour. My mother wouldn’t let me play with aboriginal or Asian kids, and I’m ashamed to say, I did the same with mine.”

  He elected not to react to the last comment, realising she wasn’t speaking of Alexis Langley’s time. Alice herself hadn’t noticed what she’d said, too busy enjoying learning another person’s perspective of her new society.

  “So, you would say the mixing of culture to such a degree doesn’t work?” he asked, not sure which century’s society would furnish her answer.

  “We made a lot of noise about how our society accepted other cultures, but then made just as much noise about how they must integrate into ours and leave any strange ways behind. I’m only repeating what I heard at the time, Principal Ryan—sorry, Noah—I have little knowledge of my own society, but I embraced its prejudices, foolishly and without question. I accept your society’s methods are far more workable. At first, I didn’t, but now, seeing how people treat each other, I’ve reassessed many of my first impressions.” She didn’t add that her opinion of him was one.

  “I am glad you’re feeling more comfortable in our society, Alice. You live in a beautiful area and have good friends. It’s something I look forward to in time, a home of my own, perhaps with horses.”