Chapter – 30
I woke from a very deep sleep. I was covered by a thick blanket, in an already warm room. It was spectacular to roll over and feel the gentle embrace of my old mattress. I was fortunate to discover that my room wasn’t damaged by the ship’s landing. My bed was thrown to the other side of the room, but that was no bother.
Getting up, I stretched and left. As I moved down the hall, I ran my hand fondly against the walls, remembering the last time I'd seen them. It felt like the past two weeks were a horrible dream. The ship was perched at an angle on the rocks, and it was quieter than in space. The warmth was another difference. There was another round of cheers when the reactor was discovered intact and functional. That meant we had heat and lights, two things beyond our control in the desert.
I continued brushing the walls as I passed, showing affection for the mighty craft. It would never fly again, forever crippled, but I had no intention of abandoning it. It was still my home. I would see it as much as possible. After all it had done for my family, I would forever take care of it.
My family was getting ready for our next journey. The valley was a distance away, but a few trips would have to be made between the soil and the ship. There were too many seeds and surviving plants to take in one trip. All the stored food was here as well. For now, we were still dependent on the ship.
I entered the garden. It was a mess. So many of the plants had been tossed from their soil. Much of it was lost, but some did survive. My parents were working away, rising from sleep considerably earlier than anyone else. It already looked much better than when they started. Dozens of living plants were in pots under functioning lights. The dead were piled for compost, and the scattered equipment was being salvaged. The apple tree was back on its perch, recovering silently.
“Do you see how much made it?” my mother said, gesturing to the survivors.
I nodded.
“It’s astonishing!” she continued. “Even if the soil in the valley is no good, we still have a lot to work with here.”
“Don’t talk like that!” my father teased. “From a distance, that soil looks better than any I’ve ever seen! I’m sure, in a week’s time, we’ll have sprouts.”
“Oh don’t get our hopes up, dad,” I said. “You know how gullible we are.”
He just smirked and continued with his work. I didn’t doubt his words for a second. He was always right.
I helped for a while, but then my parents both thought of a better use for my time. I was to climb through the vents and check on the seed containers. I felt as ready as I ever had after sleep and a good meal.
My playful mind had a difficult time toying with me. I found myself able to completely ignore the shifting shadows. They had no power now. I felt too powerful, too safe. Not all my mind’s creations could be ignored, however. Turning a corner, I found myself face to face with Mary. She looked nervous.
“We’re going to the valley?” she asked, barely making eye contact.
I knew where this was going, and I wasn’t in the mood. I answered while walking past.
“Yes.”
Mary turned and followed me, doing her best to keep up.
“Please don’t make us go. You know we don’t want to,” she insisted.
“Yes, I know, but it doesn’t make any sense,” I answered. “You’ve given me no reason why I should be afraid of that valley.”
“Abel,” she said sternly, “you don’t understand.”
I turned around to face her. “Then make me understand!” I said harshly.
There was a look of shame on her face. After a few seconds of silence, I turned away and continued walking. She followed.
A long time passed as we walked in awkward silence. We entered the vents, and I accepted that she was coming the entire way.
Mary tried a different approach.
“Do you know what it feels like to betray someone?” she asked.
“No,” I said flatly, crawling on without paying her much attention.
“Please understand,” she pleaded. “I betrayed this planet. I can’t face it again. Please, don’t make me go down there.”
“I don’t see what this valley has to do with your guilt. I’m going down there, for my family.”
“But you’re forcing us to come!”
“That’s not my problem,” I answered. I could hear the heartlessness in my own voice. I don’t think it suited me, but Mary was being absurd. I just wanted her to be quiet.
We entered the section of the ship containing the seeds, the place where I was introduced to Mary Tanaka for the first time. I activated my power cell, very happy to notice the insects had survived, yet again. It wasn’t surprising. Mary herself had designed them to be resilient. Proceeding, we passed through the dusty halls, and I spotted something.
…It was the painting, the one of the battling ships. It was flung from its place on the wall. I looked over it briefly, admiring the artist's work yet again. Picking it up, I placed it back on the wall, making very sure it was straight. I wanted it to stay there for as long as I lived. It showed me what I escaped. Mary didn’t share in the nostalgia. Instead she went on to the seeds. By the time I arrived, she was already inspecting them.
“They’re all fine,” she said, handing me one of the cylinders. “They’ll give you a garden, even if the soil is weak. I guarantee it.”
She then walked away. This small encouragement had the power to make me feel guilty for my coldness.
“Wait,” I said.
She stopped. I took a moment to gather my thoughts.
“If I could leave you here…I would.”
Another few moments passed, and Mary managed to smile.
“I understand,” she said, continuing on her way out. “We all have to face our fears sometime.”
I couldn’t explain why, but that statement hit me hard. It bothered me on a deep level. I tried to ignore the feeling, but it kept coming back to me.
Face our fears…
__________
The command deck was in shambles. We'd worked long and hard to make this room operational, even decorating it. The thick glass separating the deck from outside was shattered, its pieces found everywhere. I walked carefully to not cut my feet. The sight was a reminder of how fortunate we were. The odds of us all having survived the crash were slim, but this room was completely destroyed, and this is where we all were.
Continuing on my search, I came to some of the terminals. None were functional. The power cells within were dead. If the ship became our permanent settlement, this room would probably be sealed off and abandoned. It had no use anymore. It was dark outside, so the glowing power cell in my right hand helped illuminate a few rectangular objects on the ground, the exact objects I was looking for. They were Cain’s paintings. I wanted them to be hung up, like the one of the battling ships.
Kneeling down, I searched for any that hadn’t been damaged. It was a long search. Most were torn by glass or set ablaze by the sparking terminals. Finally I found it, the one I was looking for in particular, undamaged. It was the one of my family, all hand in hand, standing in the most stunning of gardens. Cain had painted it the day before the crash. My brother created hundreds of paintings in his time, but this one was my favourite. We were all smiling, peaceful and happy.
“Abel,” said a ghostly voice from behind me.
I turned startled, finding Robert standing in the mess. He was barely even looking at me. If anything, his eyes were on the painting.
“Hello, Robert,” I said, standing with the painting safely under my arm. “I’m sorry about the command deck.” Most of his memories were here.
“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “You…you saved the ship. I have no idea how, but you did it. So…thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, very surprised. It seemed to correspond with Mary’s improved mood. Perhaps the two discussed the issue. Robert looked a little awkw
ard, and I certainly couldn’t come up with anything to say. He continued eventually.
“Listen, Abel…for a long time, I assumed you didn’t understand…that you couldn’t understand. Mary and I realized though, that you escaped the destruction of your planet, just as we escaped ours. I couldn’t have imagined anything worse than being brought back to face it, and I still wish you wouldn’t take us, but…I’m trying to say that I think I understand. So…I’m sorry, and I think you should do what you have to do…”
I was astounded. What Robert said, about Mars, hadn’t even occurred to me. I never considered how similar our situations had been. I imagined for a moment that I was being forced to revisit Mars, and I felt fear. I imagined seeing my old junkyard, long since consumed by the nuclear fires, the remains of the Great Gardens, the painful silence of the Martian desert, not even the sound of war in the distance. I was forced to imagine myself in Robert’s position, and him in mine. Would I beg for him to stay back, if it meant I wouldn’t have to see what remained of my world? I didn’t know.
“Thank you, Robert. That’s…a very brave thing to do…”
Robert smiled, turning to leave. As he walked away I heard him say something under his breath.
“Robert Peters, hero.”
I found a place to sit for a good long while, taking in the gravity of what he was doing. He really was brave, even if it came and went. By the light of my power cell, I navigated my way to the inner decks. I turned corner after corner, delighted to be home.
I entered the medical room, relieved to see my sister awake and talking. Cain was enjoying a small meal close by. They both stopped speaking and looked at me.
“Look at what I found,” I said, holding up the painting.
“It survived!” April shouted happily.
Cain leapt from his seat and bounded over. Taking the painting in his hands, he inspected the surface keenly.
“Thank goodness!” he exclaimed. “I was worried I would have to repaint it!”
April laughed. “We were just talking about that painting, Abel. It’s crazy you would come walking in with it.”
I smiled to her, then directed my attention at Cain. He was completely absorbed by the find.
“Cain?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, tearing his eyes from the painting.
“Could you give us a minute?” I gestured to April, and he understood.
“Yeah, of course. Thanks for finding the painting.” With a smile to us both, he walked past and left the room.
Exhaling heavily, I walked to my sister’s side and sat down on the bed.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, taking her hand. It was warm and animated.
“I feel alive again, thanks to you,” she answered.
“Don’t let Cain hear that,” I warned. “It was thanks to him.”
She shook her head. “No, he’s just been force feeding me for the past three hours. You got me here.”
“Once again, Cain carried you most of the way.”
She squeezed my hand. “You know what I mean. I would ask you how you did all this, but I know I wouldn’t get a straight answer.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I suppose I don’t know myself. I just had to do something. I couldn’t lose you.”
“If I was your motivation to save everyone, then I’m not about to argue,” she said through a giggle.
“I couldn’t have done any of this without you…without everyone.”
“Oh, Abel…none of us could have done this without you. No one else could have…”
“Don’t say it,” I cut in.
“But it’s true, Abel. You shouldn’t be so afraid to hear it.”
“Please,” I asked, “just don’t say it. Let’s just be happy we’re all safe.”
__________
My family gathered outside the ship, all very well fed. Each of us had a heavy pack over our shoulders, except April, who had the help of her cane. Each pack was filled with stored food, water, and an assortment of seeds. Cain climbed on top of the ship, looking above the maze of boulders towards the valley. He studied the landscape patiently. My father was standing next to the ship, looking up at him. My mother was going through her pack, worried she was forgetting something. April was standing close by, close enough for a conversation.
“Are you sure you’re okay to walk?” I asked for the tenth time that day.
She looked at me, annoyed. “You’re worse than mom,” she said. “I’m fine, really.”
I just smiled back. I spotted Mary sitting against a boulder, looking miserable. I remember the times when I’d see Mary dancing to her heart’s content with absolutely no concern for anything. Those were better days for her. Neither Robert nor Jenna had shown themselves in hours. I didn’t understand what would happen if they didn’t show before we left. I decided not to worry. They would show up. They always did.
“See anything?” my father shouted to Cain.
“Sure can,” Cain answered. “It looks like an easy journey, but a long one. If we leave soon we could be there before sunset.”
The sun wasn’t torture anymore. Within this shield of wind, the sun’s rays didn’t burn our skin. The heat wasn’t blistering either. The sun became a friendly sight.
“Alright, good!” my father shouted up to him. “Then give us a direction, and let’s go!”
Cain nodded, took one last look towards the valley, then climbed down. My father, the tallest of us, helped him down. Cain pointed in the direction he had chosen, then slung on his pack.
“Okay, follow me, unless Abel somehow knows a better route,” Cain teased.
“No,” I said laughing. “After you.”
Everyone got to their feet, Mary looking towards the ship anxiously. Cain began leading the way, and everyone started following, except Mary and I. We both looked around, growing worried. April stopped once she saw me.
“Abel?” she asked. The question stopped my family’s advance. They all turned and looked at me.
“What’s wrong, son?” my mother asked.
I still didn’t answer, just continued looking from person to person.
“Are you okay?” my father asked, taking a step towards me.
No words came. I couldn’t explain the feeling rushing through me in those moments. Now everyone was looking very concerned.
“Come on, son,” my mother insisted. “Say something.”
My lips were trembling, and my words weak. Something was very wrong.
“I…I-”
I was cut off by a sudden shout from Robert. Looking to my right, I saw him march into sight. He looked furious. His right hand had a vice grip on Jenna’s wrist, pulling her along behind him. She looked dismayed. She was crying.
Robert came at me quickly, stopping within a few paces. He released Jenna, and she fell to the ground.
“I’m sorry, Abel,” Jenna said, choking on the words.
“For what? What are you doing, Robert?”
“I’m so sorry,” Jenna repeated, burying her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry.”
Robert’s face was red, his eyes wide with anger.
“She told me what these were for,” he said, throwing a bottle of pills on the ground in front of me. “Take them…now.”
I looked at the pills, suddenly feeling a new fear. They were my pills, the ones to cure my insanity. They were the ones that would make the ghosts go away. There was a long pause, and Robert shouted.
“Take them!”
“I…I can’t,” I said. It was true. Without my playful mind, without my insanity, I wouldn’t have been able to do anything. The fireflies, I couldn’t have found the ship without them. The memories of my companions. I looked at Robert. “You know I can’t.”
Robert glared at me a moment, then he rushed forward. He seized me by the shoulders and shook me roughly. I could feel his strong fingers biting into my skin.
“I don’t want to be here!” he scre
amed. “Take the pills! Let us go!”
“I can’t!” I shouted back, trembling with fear.
“Just do it, Abel!” I heard Mary shout. She was on her feet, standing at a safe distance.
“No!” I answered again.
Robert’s grip intensified tenfold, and he forced me to my knees. Getting a strong grip on my hair, he pulled the lid off the pill bottle and shoved it at my face.
“Take it!” he demanded. “Just let me go! I don’t want to be here!”
He retrieved three pills from the bottle and tried pressing them to my face.
I closed my jaw desperately, refusing them. The pain was overwhelming. Robert didn’t relent, pressing his hand against my lips, pulling my hair again. I was soon going to give up, to take the pills, if it meant he would let go. I was mere moments away.
Completely without warning, Robert let go. Through my watering eyes, I saw Robert pulled off me. With a shout of furry, my father struck Robert in the face with a force I could have never expected from him. Robert went tumbling to the ground, blood soon pouring from his lip and nose.
“You stay the hell away from my son!” my father shouted. Robert didn’t stay down. He charged to his feet and rushed my father. They were soon struggling fiercely for supremacy, neither willing to relent. My father was angrier, but Robert was stronger. Cain threw himself in the fight also.
Maybe I should have joined as well, but my legs wouldn’t work. I also found myself hyperventilating, becoming very light headed. My heart was pounding.
Someone came to my side. It was Mary, quickly picking up the tablets and thrusting them into my hand.
“Come on, Abel,” she insisted. “Take them, and it’ll all be over. Just take them.”
“Don’t listen to her, Abel!” my mother shouted, coming to my other side, resting a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t take that poison. Just wait, okay? Just wait.”
“Abel, you can make it all stop! Just take the pills!” Mary shouted.
“Back off!” my mother retorted.
Jenna was still in a huddle not far away, crying. I couldn’t see my sister.
The screaming continued, getting constantly louder and louder. I couldn’t distinguish words and voices anymore. It was all a mess of noise. The outside world faded away, and it was all in my mind. The screaming was coming from inside my head. It started to sting painfully, and I closed my eyes as tightly as I could.
“Stop…please,” I pleaded.
The noise grew louder. The voices came back. I could hear the fight taking place only paces away. I could feel Mary’s hand on one shoulder, my mother’s on the other. Jenna was still crying.
“Please just leave me alone,” I begged. “Just go away.”
I became aware of my release, the one thing capable of freeing me from this pain. I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t bear the agony. I didn’t need to think about it. Before I could stop myself, the pills were in my mouth and travelling down my throat. I could feel them dissolving on their way down, and my hyperventilation continued. The screaming didn’t go away. I clutched a hand to each ear, rocking back and forth like a child.
“There is no one there,” I repeated to myself. “There is no one there.”
Still it continued, and I began crying.
“There is no one there. Just leave me alone. There is no one there.”
The noises became chaotic, so many demands, so many threats. It was too much.
It was too much.
It was too much.
“Everyone shut up!” I shouted. All noise was cut short, completely and totally.
I opened my eyes.
There was no one there.
Abel Page 33
