Less Than Little Time (Between Worlds Book 1)
Page 24
I didn’t expect our short conversation to cause such havoc, but suddenly, other adults around us started to join in Me too! I also have a letter!
Billy suggested we leave this conversation for the next morning when there’s more light. When we’ve had some proper sleep after today. I was burning with curiosity, desperate to find answers to all my questions now, but I agreed. Things always look better in the morning.
The next morning, right after we took care of the most basic need, to fill our stomach, we agreed that last night’s conversation should be continued outside. We needed enough space for the children to run around and play and the adults to talk. It wasn’t easy to have a conversation that all the two hundred adults, one eye on their children, could follow. It seemed more like a conference to me, all we were missing was a stage and microphones.
So we split into groups and talked about the fact that our survival was definitely intentional. I volunteered information about The Collective, although I left Connie out of it. She wasn’t here, but still, I didn’t want anyone to think badly of her in any way. The group that Billy and I were in was gradually starting to attract more and more people. I wasn’t entirely sure what they thought they would learn from us that they couldn’t get just as easily from others. After all, I couldn’t have been the only one who knew about The Collective? Maybe our conversation was just a step ahead of theirs and it was easier to follow it instead of searching for answers next door.
“Wouldn’t it be easier if we just ask yes or no questions?” Billy asked in a low voice.
I nodded. “Sounds good.”
It was probably the best and fastest way to get anywhere. But why was Billy looking at me so expectantly, why didn’t he just start with the questions himself?
I thought that soon enough, we’ll need someone to lead our new community, like a herd of sheep needs a farm dog to lead the way, otherwise there will be chaos. I most definitely didn’t care to take that position, I was no leader. But as a speaker?
“Could I get your attention please!” I called into the crowd, albeit slightly pointlessly, since they were all looking at me anyway. “Could everyone who’s got a letter for somebody else raise their hand!”
Two hundred hands shot into the air.
“And a key that doesn’t fit into anything in your shelter? A storage in your shelter that you couldn’t open?”
It reminded me of synchronized swimming a little bit, everyone’s hands moving up and down in one smooth motion as if governed by a single mind.
“What does that mean?” a female voice called out.
Billy and I exchanged a look, he shrugged and motioned to me as if to encourage me.
What if I shared my assumptions with them and they turned out to be incorrect? But they waited for answers, and I tried providing one.
“I can’t be absolutely sure, but I think that the extra key probably belongs to a locked storage of the recipient of your letters. Probably,” I emphasized.
“But what does it mean?” another young man from the other side of the crowd joined in.
“I’d say that… the survival of us all depends on cooperation of individuals. Everyone should contribute something to help the community run smoothly,” I quoted Billy’s letter.
All this attention from a mass of people was starting to make me uncomfortable and I tried to avoid the feeling by asking another question.
“Does anyone have a notebook and a pen?”
A single hand shot up.
I walked over to the young woman and the crowd was parting in front of me like the sea in front of Moses.
“Thank God for your foresight,” I smiled at her. “Ms…?”
“Grace. I wouldn’t call it foresight.” She returned my smile, although a little shyly. “I’m a writer. I always have a pen and a piece of paper on hand.”
“Lucky for us. I think the time has come for a census,” I said and she nodded as if she did something like that every other day.
A moment later she brought her notebook out from the factory and handed me a pen, so I filled in the first line.
“Could you note the adult’s name, profession, the name of the child that belongs to them, and the name of the recipient of their letter?”
“Why the profession?”
I shrugged. “So we have a place to start? We weren’t chosen by accident so if we’re supposed to contribute something meaningful to the community, it’d be good to have a general idea.”
In a few hours she was able to speak to everyone and note down all the information. She showed me pages covered with dense writing and I was again struck by how The Collective managed to put together a grand plan to save about four hundred people–that all had at least a basic knowledge of English at that–, and then put it to action.
I looked down at the notebook again and noticed that Grace had thought of putting a number next to every pair, which made counting everyone much easier.
2Frank–lumberjack- Ruby–granddaughter- Billy
4Billy–musician- Graham–grandson- Libby
6Nadia–cook- Megan–daughter- Hong
I kept turning the pages until I got to the last one.
371Gerald–fisherman- Niamph–daughter- Zayaan
373Scott–doctor- Connor–son- Sanne
375Sheryl–teacher- Holly–granddaughter- Sawyer
Billy was looking over my shoulder. “How come we ended on an odd number?”
Grace looked sadly at a young man standing to the side of us. “His name is Stanley. His daughter died in a car crash in Auckland,” she sighed. “Stanley didn’t even make it to his shelter because his bag got stolen, along with his papers, letters and keys. He’s been tramping the entire six months.”
I was surprised that this tragedy only happened to one of us, but I didn’t say that out loud and internally sent thanks up high that Ruby was alright. Connie’s efforts to get us to safety were suddenly a lot easier to understand.
Grace broke the silence again. “What next?”
We sent groups of adults out to nearby orchards to gather food. They were returning with bags packed with apples, avocados, kiwi fruits and grapes. It was enough to chase away hunger, but it was clear that this kind of diet wouldn’t be enough long term. However, the most pressing things should be dealt with first, we agreed. We needed to decide, plan out and implement different things beforehand. First, where we were going to live because that’s where we would also cook and eat, store our provisions, build a base, keep cattle, and teach the children.
Right away we asked the teachers and wardens to look after the children and keep them entertained with games. Cooks and bakers accompanied by volunteers of other professions took over meal preparations, even though for now that basically entailed peeling, slicing and giving out fruit.
Then we put together the maps The Collective had left in our shelters to lead us to the blue tree. This gave us a good idea of our immediate surroundings. Apart from the factory, there was also a cottage settlement with a large children’s centre and a spacious cafeteria, vast orchards with various fruit and vegetables and farms with deer, sheep, and poultry and cows.
“I guess this is the answer to our question,” I thought aloud.
Billy looked up from the notes in Grace’s notebook. “What do you mean?”
I waved my hand over the map. “Everything we need is in one place, within walking distance. The Collective has brought us to a place where we can comfortably settle and get food. And whatever we’re missing we have the ability to build or make. This must be why there are builders, roofers, seamstresses… All of us will find livelihood here, and play an important part.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to move somewhere else, where there already is everything?” an older Asian man standing in the back of the crowd suggested. “If we went back to Rotorua…”
“Well, I don’t want to rain on your parade, Akio,” a woman who’s accent and dark skin suggested she was from South America joined in, “but every city, including Rotorua, was filled with people before the infection spread, people who all eventually died, so…”
María, I remembered her name.
She didn’t need to continue, we must have all had an encounter with a dead body. Multiply that by the seventy five thousand people who used to live in Rotorua. It would put off anyone.
“Alright, so we’ll stay here,” Akio answered quickly.
“It’ll be better,” Billy agreed, almost apologetically. “But just to be sure–shall we vote? The majority will decide. Who wants us to stay here?”
This time hands weren’t shooting up into the air nearly as quickly and automatically as before. People had doubts.
A young woman next to me asked to speak. “I’m Libby, a gardener and a florist. I know everything about plants, but don’t ask me to make decisions about people. I have no intentions to take on that kind of responsibility.”
“What if things are decided for you?”
She shrugged. “I can conform. Actually, I’d rather follow than lead.”
This inspired an entirely different type of voting. It turned out that many others would also much prefer to get instructions than give them. And so we split into two groups. A smaller one of those ready to think things through, debate and make decisions. The other one consisted of all the other people, relief clear on their faces, who now either left to join their children, help the cooks, or just stayed around to listen to the debate. With a single difference, that they weren’t required to contribute.
I felt the need to remind them: “Just because you’re on the other side, doesn’t mean that what you want isn’t important. Nothing we decide now is set in stone. First we’ll get everyone accommodation and a regular food supply, then we can start sorting out other things. Every voice counts.”
They nodded and smiled.
“Are you really a lumberjack?” Billy leaned into me and added, whispering: “I would have taken you for a politician.”
I put on an exaggerated offended face and he burst out laughing. I certainly had no intentions to dabble in politics, and I didn’t think I’d be good at being a leader either. But I could do it temporarily. Luckily, our small group was seemingly made up of reasonable, wise characters. One of them will surely rise to become the leader… or the community could have a vote.
“I think we should take a look at and seriously consider what kind of people The Collective chose and why they sent us here of all places,” said Billy. “So far nothing, no instruction, no plan seemed to be random. We mustn’t forget that. Our community is made up mainly of farmers and orchardists, we have vets, beekeepers, shearers. The Collective clearly meant for us to create a new life in nature, and live in harmony with it. We wouldn’t be able to achieve that in a city.”
The group murmured in agreement.
“I may not agree with what The Collective did, by which I mean releasing the plague,” Billy continued, “but we should choose to make the best of the situation we’re in. If they thought that this would be the ideal place for us to meet, I think we should build our base here.”
For the most part I felt like my head was going to burst, what with all the things to consider and plan out. I wished that I could also just sit aside and wait for someone to give me instructions. But I couldn’t back down, at least not right now. But I wasn’t surprised when others did. After the plague, the death of their loved ones and the six month quarantine, no wonder nobody felt like making any important decisions. I was glad that Billy and I volunteered.
I liked the guy more and more by the minute, our characters were well-balanced. Despite all the terrible things he’d been through this year, Billy had kept his good mood, always found some time for a smile and a joke, he was clever and thoughtful. Of course, following the old phrase two heads are better than one, I was glad I had him there when the dreaded question What do we do next? came up.
Billy and I and a group of others went to look at the cottage settlement. As it turned out, Nadia and her daughter, Megan, who were on the census list right under Billy and me, had a shelter in the basement under the kitchen and cafeteria next to the settlement.
The settlement consisted of fifty small cottages housing four to ten people, and could accommodate us all comfortably.
“It can’t be a coincidence that we were supposed to meet so close to a settlement with enough beds for all…” María said after our entire community including our modest bags moved there.
“I don’t think anyone doubts that anymore,” I answered and again wondered at how well The Collective thought everything through. According to Connie, they were putting it all together for ten years, so they had enough time for the tiniest of details.
The next morning after breakfast we exchanged our letters, at least those of us who hadn’t done it yet. It was a good way to remember more names and realise a few things. Mainly, that we were missing six letters–and also six keys. I was incredibly disappointed and grumpy when it turned out that I was one of the unlucky ones who didn’t get theirs. Who wrote it and what did it say? But there was no point in dwelling on it, it wasn’t going to make the letter or the key magically appear.
In an unusual moment of quiet and solitude, I was watching all the people around me and thinking about the score of our new community. Three hundred and seventy five people present. Six missing letters–not counting the one that was stolen from Stanley–without him paying enough attention to the recipient’s name, which was infuriating!–so twelve other people didn’t make it to the tree.
What had happened to them? Were they not able to get to New Zealand? Or did they die of a serious illness, unrelated to the plague?
I remembered my own panic when I got to the tree and didn’t find anyone else there. What if these people only made a mistake in their calendar or for some other reason couldn’t make it there on time?
I suggested we send someone to the tree every day for a look around. Several people volunteered, they were happy to place a sign there for any latecomers, and went over every day to keep guard.
The cooks and bakers assured us that despite electricity being out, probably never to be recovered again, the kitchen was ready for decent cooking and baking. Some of the equipment was old fashioned and relied on fire to heat up the stoves and ovens. According to Nadia, this part must have been used for storage because the other one was modern and ran on electricity.
Apart from fruit and vegetables, we were suddenly able to enjoy soups with various herbs, mushrooms and roots from the nearby forests, thanks to the improvisation of the people in the kitchen. We had keen campers and trackers in our midst, well-versed in mushrooms and wild root vegetables, and they were happy to venture out into an adjacent forest every day and they never returned empty-handed.
According to the farmers and the butcher who had already surveyed the cattle and poultry on nearby farms, we would soon be able to fortify our soups and other meals with meat. I’m not sure how Connie would have reacted to that, though I assumed she wouldn’t have minded too much. As far as I understood, she had become a vegan mainly in response to animal cruelty and the ethical issues connected to conventional meat production. But even she had understood that as long as animals are treated humanely, it is natural for people to eat meat.
I decided that when things calmed down a bit more and the community settled into a routine, I’d do my bit in that regard and hike out to a nearby river to fish.
As soon as we took
care of accommodation and a regular food supply for everyone in the community, we turned our attention to the brass keys. Finally, I thought to myself. I felt a new stab of disappointment that my letter and key were missing. What would I have found in my storage? Lumberjacking and carpentry tools, no doubt. But could there be something else, too?
Even so, it was very satisfying to send out small teams of people to various locations, let them open the locked storage spaces and return with a prize exactly matching the specific person’s profession.
Medication and various medical tools for doctors, midwives, physiotherapists. Seeds and gardening tools for orchardists and gardeners. Children’s books, textbooks, toys, and writing tools for teachers and wardens. Tools for vets, shearers, butchers and farmers, most of which I couldn’t even name. Cookware and huge supplies of durable food for the cooks, which cheered up everyone in the community. Bikes, more maps, herbariums, various manuals. Everyone–or almost everyone–was satisfied.
In a big community like ours, a sense of fair play was essential. Everyone had to work just as hard as the others. Everyone’s children getting what they deserve. We would need to introduce some kind of currency, rewards for work, a barter system, payment possibilities. I had no idea how yet. But it would come.
Seeing a list of all those professions and tools connected to them was yet another reminder and reassurance that our chances of survival and comfortable living were so much higher when we stuck together then if we tried to make it on our own.
The few letters and keys which didn’t have recipients were placed into an empty cash box and stored away on the highest shelf in the cafeteria office. It was a shame that we didn’t know the location of the remaining shelters, we could have gone there even without the key owners and at least find out which professions were missing.
We were slowly developing new habits–through trial and error, but mostly we figured things out quickly–and started getting used to our new life. It didn’t mean that we stopped mourning those we’d lost along the way, but we had a lot to be grateful for. Ruby wasn’t clinging to me all the time anymore. On the contrary, it was astonishing how quickly she found her place among the others. She relaxed, quickly got used to our new home and made friends she wanted to spend her free time with. Every day she was happy to be taken to the teachers and wardens who had set up the children’s centre and its outside area in the middle of the settlement according to the needs of their pupils. Her eyes were bright with excitement and I was mentally thanking Constance for securing us the opportunity to be here, however small her contribution was.