by Eric Black
With his father on board, Babel’s business took off. His father’s military experience made him an excellent organizer and manager of people. He knew how to talk to employees to motivate them. He knew what incentives to offer to make his employees work harder. The teams that worked on each site soon worked more efficiently. Waste, and therefore cost, was cut.
Babel was making more money than he ever had before. Business continued to come in. While other construction companies were cutting back on employees, Babel was constantly hiring. As Babel made more money, he shared the wealth. He gave regular raises and took care of his employees. He provided excellent benefits and people enjoyed working for him. Everything was going extremely well.
That was before the incident.
The morning of the incident, Babel was driving to the office and he knew that something was wrong. Several times in his life he had woken with the same feeling. Each time, the day had ended in circumstances he regretted. That morning the same feeling had returned.
He considered calling in sick. “Dad can handle it.” he said to himself. He picked up his cell phone to call his father at the office and realized that his father was out at a site in a neighboring town. His father didn’t believe in cell phones – outrageous, but the price of doing business with his dad. He would have to wait and call him on the radio at the office.
That morning, Babel had a meeting with a potential new customer, an investor who was interested in building a subdivision and Babel’s company was the leading bid for the contract. Babel was meeting with him at nine to finalize any remaining details.
Babel arrived and found the coffee already made. He poured himself a cup and made the rounds to say good morning to the staff. He reached his office door and asked his assistant to let him know when the investor arrived; she agreed that she would. Babel thanked her and closed the door behind him. Inside, he sat at his desk and gazed out of the window in concerned reflection. “As soon as I’m done, I’m going home for the rest of the day.”
At 8:55am, a message popped up on his laptop to let him know that the investor had arrived. Babel rose from his desk and exited to the waiting area. “Charlie, it’s good to see you.” he said to the investor, shaking his hand.
“You too, Babel. How’s your morning?”
“Not too bad. Been a long week. I’m ready for the weekend.”
“I know what you mean. These new regulations are driving me crazy.”
Babel led him back to his office. “Charlie, you want some coffee?”
“Sure. Black, please.”
Babel poured Charlie a cup from the pot in his office. “So, how’s the family?” Babel asked once they had settled into the chairs in Babel’s office.
Babel had spent most of his life in Michigan. After attending the University of Michigan, he moved to Tennessee to start his company. The tax benefits in both states were similar but Tennessee had a much better climate and Babel figured he could get more business done without worrying about the weather. The biggest adjustment for him was getting used to the way business was conducted in the South. In Tennessee, small talk still proceeded business talk.
“The family is fine. Our oldest son made the varsity football team so that sums up our Friday nights, eh?”
Babel smiled. “Sounds like it. And business is good?”
“Business is good. We’re about to get everything lined out.”
“That’s good.” Babel agreed. “Now, what do you need from me so that we can start building homes for you to sell?”
As Babel asked the question, Charlie stiffened, which told Babel that what Charlie had to say this morning wasn’t good news. “That’s what I wanted to come here and talk to you about.” Charlie started. “We really like your work. Your bottom line is close to where we’d like it to be, but…” Babel knew the word but always preceded something he didn’t want to hear. “The other investors in my group don’t feel the same as I do. I explained to them that we need to go local, but another company came in with a bid for two percent cheaper than what you can offer.”
“What about their quality of work?” Babel asked.
“It’s not as good. It’s not bad but it’s not what you can offer.” Charlie admitted. “I voted to go with you but the others voted to go with a company out of Georgia. I’m sorry Babel, there’s nothing I can do.”
“You can pull your money.”
“I can’t. I’m in too deep. If I pull out now, I’ll lose twenty five percent of what I put in. I can’t take that kind of hit.”
“Can you give me a little more time to crunch some numbers?”
Charlie shook his head. “I’m sorry. They’re anxious to start digging.” Charlie stood, apologized again and held his hand out for Babel to take. Babel knew it was business but he couldn’t help feeling angry. The deal would have been a two-year contract.
Babel didn’t want to take Charlie’s hand but he did. As he did, an old feeling came over him. “No.” he said to himself. He tried to push the feeling down but couldn’t. It was too strong.
He heard an explosion come from the parking lot. Charlie let go of Babel’s hand and ran to the window; he saw that his truck was on fire. The gas tank had exploded and the fire was rapidly spreading to the other vehicles.
Shrapnel filled the parking lot. It was a miracle that no one was in the parking lot when the truck exploded.
Babel didn’t go to the window. He stood where he was – he knew what had happened. Minutes later, distant sirens filled the air as the fire departments responded.
Charlie was glued to the window, unable to move, shocked at what he was witnessing. Babel stood motionless beside his desk, waiting for the worst of it to come. The sprinkler system came on inside of his office and he knew the building had caught fire.
The water got Charlie moving and he ran out of Babel’s office door only briefly glancing back. Babel turned to leave as well and as he did, he noticed that Charlie had left his briefcase. He knew that inside of the briefcase, more than likely would be the contract awarding the deal to the construction company in Georgia. Maybe it was already signed. Babel thought briefly about grabbing the briefcase but decided to leave it in his office. “Let it burn.”
Outside of the building, Babel surveyed as the firefighters fought unsuccessfully to stop the blaze that was consuming his office. It was only a matter of moments before the entire building collapsed. As far as he could tell, everyone had made it out which was a relief.
He watched the flames that he had caused – the fire that he had started with his mind.
CHAPTER THREE
“What happened, son?” Babel looked at his father but didn’t speak. Instead, he turned back to look at where the office should have stood.
Babel’s mother had divorced his father John during his time in the service. It was not so much his time away on various operations as it was his aloofness when he was home. He returned from various assignments, including one war, very distant. He was taciturn and Babel’s mother almost felt less alone when he was gone than when he was home.
For fifteen years she was married to him. Finally, after the Gulf War she couldn’t take any more. She knew it was unfair to leave him at a time when she knew he needed her more than ever but she couldn’t be with a man who never shared his thoughts or his feelings. She had no idea of what he had been ordered to do.
In the end, she didn’t quit loving him but she quit caring. She had given him fifteen years and together they had raised a fine son; but she was done.
After the divorce, John seemed to find peace within himself. He no longer felt the pressure of sharing the feelings deep within him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share with his now ex-wife, it was that he was too ashamed to share. Memories of what had happened to him as a child didn’t help either.
“Babel, what happened?” John asked again.
Babel turned and saw his father and it was as if he came out of a trance. “Dad, what are you doing here?”
; “What do you mean what am I doing here? Bill came to the site driving like a madman and said the whole place was burning down. I left the site and got here as fast as I could. So what happened?”
“One of the trucks in the parking lot caught fire and exploded.” Babel explained. “It spread to the other vehicles and then to the office.”
“Man,” John said, grabbing his forehead, “it’s a good thing we have insurance. But we’re cooked as far as the business. No pun intended.”
Babel nodded his head slowly. He knew exactly what his father meant. They had always intended on backing up their files but they had never gotten around to it. Every file they had was on the mainframe that had just been consumed by the fire. Blueprints, contracts, accounting, everything was gone with the fire.
“So what do we do now?” John asked his son.
“I guess we don’t have much choice. We’ll have to shut down until the insurance check comes in. Hopefully it will be enough to cover the loss. We can liquidate our equipment and inventory in the warehouse and I guess that will keep us afloat.”
“And all the employees…?”
“We won’t be able to afford to keep them.” Babel answered. “All the new projects were saved on the system. The customers won’t wait for us to recreate everything and with the delay, I don’t know that we can meet their deadlines. We’ve got two weeks left on our current contracts. After that, we’re done.”
John looked at his son. He knew that Babel was right. The only way that Babel could save his own income was to shut it down, lay off all the employees, and liquidate. Babel would be alright financially. But as John looked at Babel, he was more worried about Babel on a personal level. He had noticed something familiar about the way that Babel had stared blank-faced into the fire.
The next morning, John sat across from Babel at one of the downtown diners. They had finished their breakfast and were sipping their third cup of coffee. The coffee wasn’t the best but it was a bottomless cup. Plus it was always hot. John had drank worse during the war and so he never complained.
John studied his son. Babel was thirty-five years old. He was six foot, two hundred pounds. His athletic build had begun to show a belly a few years prior but for the most part he kept it in check. Babel had dark hair which he kept cut short and dark eyes. Babel was the spitting image of his father when he was the same age.
“You know son,” John started, and as he did, Babel looked up from his coffee, “when you were a boy, you were the most stubborn kid I ever met.” Babel smiled. “You would talk back to me no matter what I said. If I didn’t say something exactly the way you wanted it said, you’d start arguing. I always told your mother you’d make a great lawyer. I’d spank you, put you in time out, send you to your room. Nothing seemed to work. Then, one day I realized that you always spoke up because you had such strong convictions and needed to get whatever you felt off your chest.” John looked at his son. “Where’s that little boy now?”
Babel looked at his father and smiled. “That little boy is in here somewhere. I guess you think something is wrong and you wonder why I’m not telling you.” John didn’t answer. Babel paused for a moment. “Dad, I’m going to tell you something that I’ve never told anyone else before. Not even Mom.” He looked at his father seriously. “This is going to sound crazy. That fire that started in the truck?” He paused for a moment and then said, “I started the fire.”
“You started the fire? Why would you do that?”
“Let me finish.” Babel continued. “I started the fire…with my mind.” He didn’t look at his father in the eye as he finished the sentence.
He waited a moment and then finally did look up at his father. He expected to see disbelief in his father’s eyes but when he looked into his eyes, he saw understanding.
“I know you did, son.”
Babel was taken aback by his father’s comment. “What do you mean you know I did?”
John looked at his son seriously. “This wasn’t the first time was it?”
Babel shook his head. “It’s been happening since I was a kid.” John nodded his head in understanding. “Dad, did you know about this?”
“Son, I’ve always known about this.”
“What do you mean you’ve always known? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It wasn’t time.”
“Dad…what…? Let me get this straight. You’ve known my entire life that I could start fires through thought but you didn’t do anything about it?”
Babel was getting excited, which John knew wasn’t good. “Listen, Babel, I know you’re upset but this isn’t the place to talk about this.”
“Upset? Why shouldn’t I be?”
John interrupted his son in the way he always had. Not by raising his voice but by looking directly into Babel’s eyes and speaking softly, forcing Babel to pay attention (an old Army trick to diffuse tense moments). “Babel, this isn’t the place or time to talk about this. Why don’t you come by my house tonight? I’ll throw a pizza in. You and I can talk about this over a few beers.”
Babel didn’t want to agree but knew his father was right. Reluctantly he nodded. That settled, the two finished their coffee, John picked up the tab, and they went about their day.
That evening, Babel pulled into his father’s driveway. As he climbed out of his truck, he noticed that he porch light was not on, which was very strange. His father always left the porch light on in the evening, even if he wasn’t expecting company.
The next thing he noticed was that none of the lights were on inside of the house. “Maybe he fell asleep.” Babel thought as he unlocked his father’s front door and walked inside.
He entered the living room and turned on a lamp. “Dad?” he called out. He waited a moment but there was no answer. “Dad?” he called out again a little louder. He walked back to his father’s bedroom and saw that it was empty. Room-by-room he searched the house including the garage. His father was not there.
He went through the sliding glass door into the backyard, thinking maybe his father was enjoying the evening weather on his back deck. He found the backyard empty.
He paused for a moment to think of where his father might be. His car was still in the garage, so he knew he hadn’t driven anywhere. The closest gas station was three miles and he didn’t think his father would walk that far at night, especially with what his father called the crazy drunks on the road.
His father didn’t have a cell phone, so without knowing what else to do, Babel pulled out his own phone and dialed only other person of whom he could think. The phone rang a few times before a voice answered, “Hello?”
“Mom, it’s me. I think Dad is missing.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Their world is one of isolation. So far as they know, they are the only people that exist. They don’t know what lies beyond the Barren Lands and very few have actually wondered about this.
In the early days of the world, they were all just happy to be alive. Most had families and they wondered if their families still lived. After years of no contact, hope faded away. It was hard enough to survive in the new world and so they pressed forward the best they could. The new world became just the world.
In everything that happens, there is always an exception. Such was the case with a man whom everyone had forgotten. Four hundred years prior, this man was sent by the first Chokka to find out if anyone else lived. He made his way north and then east and found that there were a few survivors but they died quickly. He would stay with these people until their death and then he would move on.
As time went by, what was left of the world became anarchy. The people that were left turned to marshal law, then tribal law, and then no law. Cannibalism was common. No one was exempt. What was considered atrocious in civilization became part of daily life. The weak died, were killed, or became slaves and the strong (sometimes just strong in numbers) ruled in fear of being overthrown.
As such, the man survived through it all – not entirely unscathed
– and made his way to where the government once stood. He found only a ruined tundra. Buildings in which men dictated law were gone. He went north and found the same. In fact, the entire East Coast was decimated.
After two years of being gone, he returned back to his home, not knowing what to expect. This time, there were no people during his journey. There were bodies but the people who had formed groups to terrorize ceased to exist. His journey home took six months and several times he nearly starved. The water was debauched and he became deathly ill more than once.
He traveled an abandoned landscape and finally made his way back to the only people he knew to still be alive. Upon arrival – and much jubilation among the people – he reported what he saw. The jubilation became deathly quiet.
He was back among people but something had changed in him. He was now more ghost than man. The years of silence, murder, and the realities of basic survival lived within him and he no longer felt at peace with other people. Humanity’s true nature had been revealed to him and he was constantly paranoid and felt contempt for the happiness around him.
In the dead of night, he slipped off to the north, not to be seen again.
Four hundred years later, that man still lived. For reasons unknown to him, whatever had caused the rest of humanity to die had affected him conversely. It gave him extremely long life. He also ceased to be ill. His teeth not only quit falling out, they grew back. His bones would not break and neither would his skin. His strength increased. He was able to hold his breath for very long periods of time. He could run faster than any animal he could recall. And every year he lived, that increased.
He lived deep within the Barren Lands and thrived in the desolation. He had not seen another or spoken with another human for many centuries. He meditated in the wilderness and his mental capacity was greatly increased. He discovered elements of his mind that he did not know existed. He was not aware that other people had also achieved many of these similar mental capacities; but even if he had been aware, he would have scoffed at them as their abilities were dwarfed by his.