by Sandra Smith
The children looked doubtfully at his tiny Monitor, then turned their attention to his bountiful supply of books.
“What kind of gardening books have you got?” asked Clare.
That night, in their places on the couch—they’d devised a way for both of them to fit, heads at each end, feet to feet—they discussed once again the purpose of their journey. It had been to keep Mama safe and to save their dream of learning to garden, Clare said.
“And the seeds,” Dante added.
“Well, yes.”
“I haven’t seen the seeds,” he said. “Can we get them out and show Gruff tomorrow?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Dante—I haven’t got the seeds.”
The boy gasped. “But you said—”
“I said they were safe.”
“Where are they?”
“I gave them to Lily. I figured they were safer with her. I only have a few of the smaller seeds. Remember the day we got them? We stopped at Lily’s apartment on the way home, and you watched the Monitor? She and I agreed that day that she would keep them in a safe place.”
Dante remembered. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
“We weren’t sure you could keep the secret. Sorry. You’ve been great.”
He brushed off the slight. “So what do we do now? We need to make up our minds. Do we stay in New Jernsy?”
Clare smiled at his mispronunciation.
“What’s our plan?”
She was quiet. Dante knew she was thinking.
“Well,” she began. “I had thought that maybe there was a place where things were different. A place where people could grow food freely and not be afraid. But I guess I was wrong. Maybe we should go back home. I miss Mama and Lily, and I’m worried about Ana.”
“But Clare,” Dante exclaimed. “What about the blueberries, and melons, and honey? Gruff grows food without fear.”
“Only because this place is so awful the government doesn’t care.” She felt horrible for saying it, but she knew it was true. Images of the charred buildings and overgrown lots popped into her head. This was no Garden of Eden.
“I meant a beautiful place where everyone is free to grow gardens and have their own seeds. A place like in the old books,” she said.
“But Gruff said there was still a place like that, remember? He said it wasn’t too far away.”
She propped herself up to look at her brother. “Are you saying you don’t think we should go home?”
He scooted up to face her. “I’m saying that we are Seed Savers. Lily is out there and she has already connected with the Network. We don’t know what happened to Ana, but we can’t let her down. She trusted us.” He stuck out his fist with his thumb up. “We shouldn’t give up. We’ve come this far; I think we should go forward, not back.”
“Oh, Dante,” she said. “I’m so lucky to have you for a brother.” She clasped her hand over his, and they merged into a bear hug. At last they broke apart.
“Now say your prayers,” she whispered. “Goodnight.”
The next morning, the children awoke early. Gruff was already up.
“Breakfast?” He asked with a secretive smile on his face.
“Of course!” The children had grown to love mealtime more than ever.
“May I help?” Clare offered.
“Yes, ma’am. There are some melons chilling in the bottom of the fridge. You can start slicing them. Dante, you can take this bowl and see if there are any blueberries left.”
In a matter of minutes the eggs were frying, and the children were helping with the fruit. Soon it was time to sit down and eat.
Clare sighed deeply.
“This is all so wonderful,” she said.
“What’s under the towel?” asked Dante. A faded kitchen towel lay over a plate in the middle of the table.
Gruff grinned with eagerness. “Today I have bread.”
“I’ve heard of bread!” Dante said.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I heard of bread in church.”
Gruff ceremoniously removed the cloth. Thick slices of soft, brown bread overwhelmed a small plate.
“Oh,” Dante said, crinkle lines playing across his forehead. “It looks different.”
“This is really how you should eat honey,” Gruff said with a wink.
“Gruff,” Clare said. “I’d like to pray before we eat.”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
They folded their hands and bowed their heads.
“Dear God above,” began Clare, “we thank you for our new friend, Gruff, who has so kindly taken us in. Bless this food—such wonderful, good food—and help us to bring about a change so that all your children might taste and see it is good. And take care of Mama and Lily and Ana. And thank you for such a great brother, Dante. Amen.”
“Amen.”
“Amen.”
After breakfast, everyone did the rounds, checking to see how each plant was doing: what needed watered, or gathered, or cleared of harmful insects. They visited the bees on the roof and sat and watched the hive for a time. It was just before lunch when Clare finally broached the subject that was on her mind and Dante’s.
“Gruff, we’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday.”
He listened quietly.
“We’ve decided to keep going. We left home looking for a place where we could be free and safe, and plant and save seeds . . . Although staying with you has been great—”
“And we’ve learned a lot—” Dante added.
“Will you tell us how to get to that place you mentioned—the place with gardens?”
“Of course. I’ve been waiting for you to decide. You are so young,” he said, “but I’m glad you’ve made that decision. You must go there and learn. There are classes. Someday you’ll return and bring change with you. It’s not too late.”
Gruff reached up to a shelf behind him and pulled out an atlas. He opened it to the page with New Jersey.
“You will need to go north.” He drew a line on the map with his finger. “The border is about 400 miles from here.” He moved his face close to theirs. “The problem is that your pictures are out there. You’ve been listed as runaways to the general public, and who knows what else inside of GRIM. It will be better to take days, even weeks, getting there—if you wish to succeed and not be caught. I can’t caution you strong enough, kids,” he waved a long, thin finger back and forth, “you must not ride the bus again. You must not be seen.”
Clare and Dante exchanged anxious looks.
“Don’t y’all worry. We’ll work it out.”
27
PREPARING TO LEAVE
After three more days with Gruff, the children were ready to continue their adventure. He had gathered supplies for them, including food items, a map, another flashlight, and a few other odds and ends. Since they already carried quite a load, he convinced them to leave two of Ana’s books with him. He assured them there were still gardening books in the world, even if they weren’t easy to find. Gruff told the children that traveling by bicycle, at night, would be their best chance for escaping to the border. They spent many hours learning how to traverse the land without being seen.
“Move only at night,” he said. “Try to find good places to rest during the day. If you must travel in the light, make sure it is in sparsely populated areas. Wear your helmets and keep your heads low.”
He taught them how to read the night sky and how to find friends.
“Years ago, when gardeners had to go underground, so to speak, they developed signals still used today. When you looked up at my balcony what was the first thing you noticed?”
“Your purple flowers!” shouted Dante.
“Yes, the pansies. I wish you could have seen the lupines. Lupines were really the chosen flowers for our code, but alas, they finish blooming early in the summer around here. So we keep anything purple alive that we can,” he said smiling.
“What
’s so special about lupines?” Clare asked.
“Well, for one thing, everybody has roses,” Gruff said winking. “The story is this: about a hundred years ago, a mountain in Washington state blew its top. Forests were blown away. The land was devastated. It’s said that the first plants to emerge from the ash-covered land were wild lupines. They’re tenacious—like us. We, the Seed Savers, will come back someday, too.”
“Wow,” said Dante.
“So, if we see some place with a lot of purple flowers, they might be friends?”
“Right,” said Gruff. “But there’s more. Obviously if lupines grow wild or if someone likes purple, that wouldn’t be enough to go knocking on their door and ask if they were Seed Savers. The next sign is a symbol of a circle within a circle.”
“A circle within a circle?”
Gruff grabbed a pen and paper. “Like this,” he said, drawing. He drew a circle as best he could, and then right outside of it a second circle, enclosing the first.
It’s an ancient sacred symbol of mother earth, or earth goddess, and the fertility and fruitfulness she embodies. If you go outside my door and take a good look, you’ll find I’ve painted a small one down near the bottom. Anyway, if you find the purple flowers and the symbol, you can pretty much figure they are Seed Savers. But just to be sure, there is one last test. Knock at the door. If someone opens it, first ask, ‘Are you the resident here?’ If they say yes, then ask, ‘Do you know where Amber Jenson lives?’”
“Who is Amber Jenson?”
“She’s not anyone. Well, I’m sure she is someone, but the name is random. Initially the Network wanted to use the name of an early worker in the movement, but it was deemed too dangerous. We’ve never had a problem so far with these three signs. And GRIM hasn’t figured out any of our means of communication. Be very careful with the knowledge.”
Gruff made the children sleep during the day and stay up at night. It would be easier, he told them, if they were used to a nocturnal lifestyle before departure.
On their final night with him, they shared one last meal of good food. The children helped gather dinner from the garden balcony: they had a mixed greens salad with fresh herbs; green beans sautéed with garlic and onions; and fresh bread with honey. And Gruff introduced them to something new. It was rich and flavorful, and a bit chewy.
“It’s meat. The basis of your protein food. But it’s pure. Don’t eat too much. Your body’s not used to it. And don’t ask me any more about it; I don’t feel like explaining. I just wanted to have a special send-off meal for you.”
“It’s very good,” Dante said. “I like it.”
“Me, too,” said Clare. “And it fills me up so easily.”
“Good. Because you’re likely to get hungry on your journey. Remember, I don’t want you going into Stores. Eat your rations sparingly, look for edible plant life, and replenish your supplies when you find friends.” His eyes were firm, but kind.
“We’ll be careful,” Clare promised.
“Yes,” said Dante. “We can do it.”
PART THREE
JOURNEY TO EDEN
28
“THE SUN WILL NOT HARM YOU”
The children departed at dark, setting off in the direction Gruff had told them. He had equipped their bicycles with lights, baskets, and seat saddles.
It was a warm summer night and a slight breeze whispered through the tall grass in the abandoned lots. The sound of tinkling wind chimes melded with the distant rhythmic pounding of a basketball, and the scent of hot tar lingered into the ebony evening. It was a little scary at first, because they weren’t in the best of neighborhoods, but no one bothered the children, and only one angry dog gave chase for a few blocks.
After about twenty minutes, the buildings appeared less forlorn. Clare and Dante stopped under a street lamp to check their map. Clare looked around at the street signs. “Left,” she said. “This should take us out of the city.”
They rode until it felt like their legs would fall off.
“Clare,” Dante called. “Let’s rest.”
“Dante, we have to keep going. We’ll stop when there aren’t any more big streets and buildings. You can do it.”
He kept pedaling.
At last the road began to narrow. The buildings grew shorter. Soon they saw fields. Just as on the bus, Clare wondered what was growing there. It wasn’t something she would have wondered before. Before, she had rarely been out of the city. Before, she had not thought of the connection between her food and the land. But everything was different now. In the country, things grew—but what was it and who grew it, and why wasn’t she allowed to grow anything? It wasn’t fair. Her anger made her pedal harder, faster. In her fury, she forgot about Dante.
“Clare!”
She heard a scream and a crash. Slamming on her brakes, she dropped the bike and peered into the night.
“Dante! Dante, where are you?”
“Here,” he moaned through the darkness.
She ran back, her flashlight lit now, scanning the road. There he was, off to the side, his bicycle and his gear scattered in different directions.
“Clare, why did you zoom ahead?” His voice was shaky, and he was rubbing his elbows.
“Are you okay?” she cried, gathering him in her arms.
“I—I—think so.”
“I didn’t mean to leave you. I just started thinking of something, and it got me so mad. I was just so mad . . . Oh Dante,” she sobbed, “I’m sorry.”
He hugged her in return, feeling her soft hair. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m okay. I understand. I get mad, too.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. I get mad when I think of the way it was before and the way it is now. I get mad at all these people who walk around like everything is perfect.” He bit his lip and looked away. “Like Proteins, and Carbos, and Sweeties are such wonderful food. I’m mad that they’re so stupid and don’t know it.”
He looked back at Clare, his eyes fierce. He spit the words out. “And mostly I’m mad at the people who let it get this way in the first place.”
“Oh, Dante.” She hugged him hard. Then she jumped up and began gathering his things.
“Let’s get this stuff together.”
After a short break, the children decided to continue riding as long as they could. It was cooler at night, so pedaling helped keep them warm. Whenever they stopped to rest, they’d check their maps, the sky, and any road signs they passed. It wasn’t easy to see the signs at night, but whenever they saw an intersection or a side road, they used their flashlights to read them. A lot of Seed Savers lived rurally, but there were also many farmers who worked for the government. It was imperative that they not meet the wrong people.
“Clare,” Dante asked during one of their rest breaks, “how are we going to see the flowers if we travel only at night?”
There was a moment’s silence. Dante waited.
“I’m not sure. I thought about it, too, a couple of hours ago. I didn’t want to say anything.” More silence. “But it will be okay. This is where we have to trust God.” She remembered a Psalm she had memorized a few years earlier in summer Bible school. She began reciting:
“I lift up my eyes to the hills—
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord,
The maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot slip—
He who watches over you will not slumber;
Indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord watches over you—
The Lord is your shade at your right hand;
The sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.
The Lord will keep you from all harm—
He will watch over your life;
The Lord will watch over your
coming and going
Both now and forevermore.”
“Amen,” sa
id Dante.
29
AN ANSWERED PRAYER
Dawn approached, warning the children to take cover. Though they didn’t feel in danger, they took no chances. They got off the road and headed across a field of what looked like tall grass, riding haphazardly toward a stand of trees. They’d been traveling all night and needed sleep. Although early, the day promised to be a scorcher. The terrain grew rougher and Dante fell. Clare hopped off her bike and helped him up.
“It’s best we walk now,” she said, pushing her bike along beside her. Dante followed obediently. It was hard work traversing the bumpy ground with their bikes, but it would be worth it for a long rest.
At last they reached the edge of the wooded area. Clare was relieved that it wasn’t fenced in. She’d feared that once they reached it, they would find a gate or a fence, or some other obstacle—but it looked okay. However, it wasn’t as dense inside as she had thought. But that didn’t matter—it was uninhabited and a good distance from the road, and that was the important thing.
“Here we are,” she said, sighing loudly.
Dante looked around. “I’ve always wanted to go camping again. We can pretend we’re camping.”
“Sure,” agreed his sister. “Let’s go in more.” She raised her chin. “We need to get the bikes in where they can’t be seen.”
As they walked further in, the trees blocked out the emerging morning light. Clare was thinking how glad she was to be in the woods during the daytime. It was creepy enough now; how much worse at night?
Every downed limb proved difficult to pass over with the bikes. Something moved on the ground, just to her left.
“What was that?” Dante whispered.
“Just a bird or small animal. We’re camping, remember?” She smiled, hoping to allay any fears of her brother.
“Can we stop yet?”
