by Kip Nelson
Darren couldn’t think of anything worse than dying alone, with nothing other than regret as his only companion. There had been a time when he and Stacie had been talking about their lives and how they wanted them to go. Darren said he wanted to be surrounded by loved ones, and be able to look around and see all their faces looking back at him as he took his last breath. Stacie told him that that was exactly what she wanted to happen, and at the time he had believed her. She had said that she wanted it to be short and quick, something unexpected so that she wouldn’t have to worry about any pain at all.
He’d imagined them buried next to each other, probably that as soon as one went the other would soon follow, as many old couples did; life pouring out of broken hearts.
That wouldn’t happen now. They all were living on borrowed time, and any day could bring their end. Darren pulled his arms tightly around his chest. He leaned forward, his face aglow with the light from the fire, trying to ignore the fact that the cold was outside, waiting to invade their home, bind them to the ground and take their lives from them slowly, stripping it away from them as though their skin was being flayed.
The gray skies roiled ahead and as Darren looked out at them, he knew that another storm was coming. There was no telling how long it would last, but he hoped it wasn’t as long as the last one. They couldn’t afford to be holed up in the cave for that long again, not with their dwindling supplies.
“Dad, are you okay?” Brent asked.
Darren shook his head awake, so lost in this thoughts he hadn’t been aware of Brent’s approach. He looked around and saw Betsy lying down.
“You should be asleep, like the others,” Darren said.
“So should you,” Brent replied. Darren smirked, unable to argue with his son’s logic, and gestured for Brent to sit down.
“I’ll get there eventually,” Darren said.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look terrible.”
Darren shot him a look. Brent was smiling. It was a good sight to see. It was so easy to lose himself to misery, but spending time with his son like this lifted Darren’s spirits.
“I probably feel worse.”
“Don’t beat yourself up too much. We found them in the end. They’re always going to go wandering off, we just have to make sure to keep an eye on them,” Brent said, talking about Tara and Michelle. He held his hands out to the fire and rubbed them together.
“I know.”
“I think we’ll be okay. Betsy knows a lot about the wilderness, and Tara and Michelle will get used to it. We’ll become masters of this place soon enough.”
“I like your confidence, but that wasn’t what I was troubled about, not this time anyway.”
“Oh,” Brent said, his face falling.
“Look out there, what do you see?”
Brent sighed and arched his eyebrows, annoyed at how his father liked to make them try guessing what was happening with these things, rather than simply telling them. He turned his head to shift his gaze away from his father and out at the wider world. He peered into the darkness, looking at the same forest. Darren studied his son and wondered if Brent saw the world in the same way as he did.
“I see the forest,” Brent began. “I see darkness, I guess maybe I see the future as well. I don’t really know what you want me to say, to be honest with you.”
“What do you mean by the future?”
Brent shrugged. “Just like you were saying today, this place is going to be our home. I can see us really making something of it. Like, maybe in the summer we can build a treehouse, and we probably could find a tire from somewhere to make a swing. We could create a signpost system, like marking the trees so that we know where to go. We’d be like the lost boys from Peter Pan, and we’d always have stashes of food scattered around the woods.
“We might even be able to find a bigger cave or something, a bigger home for all of us. And we could find other people, other families, and they could live with us. Not people like Bill and those other men, but good people.”
“And how will we know these good people from the bad?” Darren asked, intrigued by the way his son’s mind worked.
Brent shrugged again. “You can just tell, I guess.”
“That’s a really nice way of looking at things,” Darren said, reaching over and putting a hand on Brent’s shoulder.
It was a refreshing outlook on the world, one born of Brent’s youth. Experience often made people bitter and afraid, but Brent still was hopeful. It all seemed easy to him, and while Darren was sitting there he let himself believe it would be easy to have that type of life too, for a few moments at least.
“What do you see?” Brent asked.
“Not as much as you do, apparently, but I was talking more about the sky. I think another storm is coming in,” Darren said, lifting his eyes to the gray clouds. Brent followed his stare and looked up too, shaking his head.
“I can’t remember it raining this much.”
“It always has, we were just indoors for most of it. The rain was just background noise. Now it’s something else we have to deal with, among all the other things.”
“Hopefully it won’t be as bad as last time, and you won’t have to go as far.”
“No. The last thing I need is for more clothes to get wet, especially in this cold. You know, I remember at school I was in English and we were talking about this quote from a writer. Damn, who was it? Bukowski, I think, and the quote was about how people were happy to get wet in baths, but as soon as it started to rain, they began to panic. It was supposed to be some profound statement about the absurdity of the way we thought about things, or at least that’s the way the teacher presented it to us. But all I kept thinking was that we get annoyed because we don’t take baths in our clothes.”
“What did the teacher say when you pointed that out?”
“Oh, I didn’t dare challenge her. She was a mean old thing, Mrs. Craddock. She was married as well, and I always pitied the man who had to listen to her stories at the dinner table. She always used to monitor the water fountain, making sure that nobody was there for more than a few seconds. It wasn’t as though there was a shortage of water. She just liked to make us suffer.”
“I think all teachers are like that,” Brent said.
“Not Miss Nineham, you always liked her,” Darren said.
Brent blushed. It was an open secret that he had a crush on this particular teacher, not that Darren could blame him, for she was sweet and kind. She’d been supportive through the divorce. She had been one of the few people with whom Darren could talk about his feelings, not that he went into great detail because she wasn’t a friend, and he didn’t want to make things awkward for his son. But if things had been different, perhaps one day he would have worked up the courage to ask her on a date.
“I did. I wonder where she is now.”
“I wonder where all of them are. It’s strange to think there are so many people who were a part of our lives that we’ll never see again. Heck, even the people who weren’t a part of them, like all the celebrities we knew of. How many of them are alive? It makes you realize that family really is the most important thing.”
“Yeah, it does,” Brent said, going quiet.
Darren could tell he was thinking of his mother. Darren didn’t want Brent to drown in melancholy, so he slapped his thigh and stood up, ordering Brent to bed. Brent didn’t want to go, but his father insisted, so he obeyed. But he made sure Darren was going to follow him.
“I promise I’m coming to bed right now,” Darren said, and indeed went to where he slept and pulled the sleeping bag over him.
Although he had become used to sleeping on the ground, it still was a shock to his body when he laid flat against the sheet of wood, his makeshift bed. He turned around a few times as he always did, trying to get comfortable, and eventually settled. He blinked heavily, looking at the fire that protected them and kept them warm. He didn’t really like leaving it lit through the night, but w
ithout it the cold filled the cave and sapped their strength. The fire was under control and would burn itself out. By the morning it would be no more, then it would be time to light it again.
Eventually, Darren stopped blinking and fell asleep. He thought of many things, but most of all he thought about the future that Brent saw for them all. He wanted to believe in that future and the thought of it warmed his soul as he fell asleep.
In the morning Darren awoke to the sound of falling rain. It began as echoes in his mind, but as he drew awake he realized it was hard and heavy, chattering against the ground. Darren rose and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then lifted his weary limbs from the ground and walked to the cave entrance. He placed his hands on his hips, looking out to the world.
The rain did not seem as hard as it had been the last time he had gone outside, but the wind was fierce and whipped the rain into a frenzy. It pattered against the trees and he could see wide puddles on the ground. It was gray and gloomy, and not the kind of thing that any of them wanted to see.
He heard noise behind him and saw the children stirring. Brent was first.
“Look at it,” Brent said, joining his father.
“Heck of a time to take ownership of something,” Darren said.
“Are we going to go out in that today?” Betsy asked, in the middle of a yawn.
“Not today. Hopefully, it’ll just last the day. We can’t risk getting ill either. I managed to get a few pills, but not enough to last us. Even a cold could be deadly in a world like this. We have to hunker down and wait this out for the time being. We’re still lucky enough that we have enough supplies to allow us this day off,” Darren said.
He didn’t add that too many days like these would make their supplies dwindle and eventually leave them with nothing. The way the winters were, this wouldn’t be the last rain that came to them, and at some point, they would have to venture out into the world again. But Darren would insist on it only being short excursions so as not to tempt fate. The more time they spent in the warmth of the cave the better.
“I hope it doesn’t come in here,” Betsy said, looking worriedly at the downpour.
“We’ll be okay. Look at the way the ground slopes away on either side of us. The water always is going to run away from the cave. It’s one of the reasons I chose this place,” Darren said.
“Seems like you planned for everything,” Betsy said with awe.
“Not everything, but a lot,” he said, a grim expression on his face.
“There is one thing, though. If there’s too much rain, the stream could rise, and that may pose a threat to us,” he said.
He stroked his beard as he looked around at the cave, imagining it coated in water. He could see the water drifting in, soaking through all their food and equipment, the blankets, their clothes…everything would be useless.
If they lost everything now, there would be no way to mend it all. For all his talk of taking ownership of the woods, this was a stark reminder that nature was in control.
The enemy before them wasn’t a man with a gun, or a pack of cannibals, or even a wild animal. It was Mother Nature herself, ready to mock the arrogance and hubris of humanity. A grim stare settled on Darren’s face as he looked out at the world. If the creek did rise, they would have to find a new location, new shelter, but leaving this place was fraught with danger and he didn’t know if they would survive.
Chapter Seven
Tara and Michelle were the next to wake up and they joined the rest of the family looking out upon the world. They stood next to Darren, and Michelle slipped her hand into his. The raw power of nature was humbling. The rain cascaded down, only getting worse as the day wore on. Darren and Brent pulled the wood for the fire inside the cave so it had more shelter and was less likely to be put out by the wind or rain. The fallen log and bramble they had set up as defenses outside of the entrance acted as a wind trap, helping deflect much of the forces that threatened their safety.
When the wind howled, Darren felt the grip on his hand tighten. He looked down and saw Michelle’s face tense.
“It’s okay, Michelle,” he said.
“Was that a ghost?” she asked.
“No, it was just the wind whistling through the trees. It’s going to do that. There are going to be lots of different sounds we can listen to, but they don’t have to be scary. It’s just the wind.”
“It sounds like a monster,” Michelle said.
“I know, but it’s not. It’s just the world letting out all its energy, kind of like when you throw a tantrum,” he said, trying to make her smile. It didn’t work. All he could do was hold her and try to make sure she was protected.
He glanced over and saw that Tara was experiencing the same emotions. She was clinging to her older sister. Although Darren had by default adopted them, he didn’t think of himself as their father. He knew he never could be that to them.
“Daddy always used to sing in storms,” Tara said.
Betsy looked pained. Darren really hadn’t spoken to them about their recent history or the feelings that came with it. There had been too many other things to take care of, and he wasn’t sure how best to broach the subject with them. He knew he would have to at some point, though. He had to take care of all these kids, and part of that meant talking to them about what they had been through.
“We have to remember that not everyone is like Dad,” Betsy said, glancing awkwardly toward Darren.
Tara looked disappointed. Darren never had the best singing voice, but he started to sing an old hymn he remembered from church, surprising himself that the words came back so easily. The children joined in, and soon enough their singing filled the cave and almost drowned out the sound of the wind and rain. But when they stopped singing the wind still was there, howling like a wolf.
Somewhere in the distance they heard the cracking of a tree as the skies darkened and lightning struck the dry wood. They would have to be careful. If the rain let up, there could be the chance of a forest fire breaking out, and although fire was their ally against the cold it was a tempestuous, unpredictable ally. It could turn on them at any moment.
The woods would be changed after this storm. More trees would fall, giving the family the opportunity to use them for their own needs, but at the same time they were victims of nature, and would have to wait to see how bad the damage was.
Darren decided to keep the fear about the stream rising to himself. The kids already were alarmed enough without having to think about something that may not happen. He made a point to keep an eye on the water levels, though. If they got dangerous enough, then he’d have no hesitation in taking his family away from this place. He didn’t much like the thought of taking them somewhere new, but if it was needed, then it was needed.
So far, though, it seemed as though the wind was more of a danger than anything else. Even the strongest trees swayed as they buffeted themselves against the wind. The fire flickered. If it hadn’t been protected by the defenses Darren and his family had prepared, the fire would have gone out already. In time, the family stopped watching the storm so intently and busied themselves with other things around the cave, although Brent spent most of his time looking out at the world.
Later on, while things were quiet, Darren was sitting with his eyes closed, collecting his thoughts in meditation. It was at this point he wished he had stolen a book from his travels just so he had something to occupy his time. In the background he could hear Tara and Michelle playing together, chattering away, lost in their own worlds.
For once Brent and Betsy weren’t spending any time together. Brent was sitting by the fire, while Betsy was sitting in her little area of the cave, facing the wall, shoulders slumped. The sound of the rain was a constant companion, and in a way it was entirely peaceful, like those autumn days where there was no work, no tasks to do, and you simply could enjoy existing.
However, Darren was a little worried about Betsy, and decided that now was the perfect time to go talk to her
about what she had been through. He walked over to her, and as he drew closer he realized her shoulders were shaking, and he heard the sound of stifled sobs.
“Betsy, are you okay?” he asked.
“Go away,” she said, her words muffled.
Darren paused for a moment. When kids wanted you to go away, sometimes it was a wise decision to listen to them, other times it was in their best interests to ignore their wishes. Darren thought now was one of those times. He settled down next to her and ignored the scowl. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, then folded her arms, pulling her knees into her, her head hanging.
“What’s on your mind?” Darren asked.
His question was met with silence. He pressed his lips together and waited a few moments to see if Betsy would start talking of her own accord, but it soon became clear that she wasn’t going to be forthcoming with her feelings. Darren knew he had to press the issue.
“Is it something to do with your father?” he asked.
Betsy glanced at him, and he knew he had hit the nail on the head. She still didn’t speak, though.
“You must miss him very much,” he said. “I don’t know how much Brent has told you about his mom, but we still miss her, even though she left us more than a year ago. It’s okay to be sad as well, and you always can talk to me about it. I don’t pretend to be wise or anything, but I like to think I know what I’m talking about.”
Betsy sniffed again and then dragged her sleeve across her nose.
“That’s the problem. I’m not sure. I do miss him,” Betsy said in a trembling voice. A furrow formed in Darren’s brow.
“What do you mean by that?”
“It’s been so long, and so much has been going on that I haven’t been thinking about him as much as I used to. After it first happened, I hated Bill. I wanted to kill him myself, but I knew that we needed his help to stay alive. I used to think of Dad every night after that, and then somewhere along the way I just stopped. I don’t know why.