Following the Strandline
Page 33
It was an old phrase from another time, but something about it had always appealed to Stone, brought him comfort, even in the loneliest moments. A dim picture of his father coming through the front door, his badge shining, his uniform crumpled from a long night of work. Strong arms would come around Stone in celebration and triumph, and then he’d throw Stone in the air saying, “And now I’m home. How can I serve and protect you today?”
“We need you,” Stone blurted out.
Little Hawk bobbed his head.
“Would you like help choosing your solid name?” Another nod came from Little Hawk.
Stone poked at Big Hawk with the stick. “We need you.”
Big Hawk rolled his eyes and then gave Stone a thumbs-up.
Stone reached out and shook their hands in turn. “How about the name Mark? It was my father’s name.”
“Was he a great man?” Little Hawk wanted to know.
“Very.”
“Then I want it,” Big Hawk said.
“No! I want it.”
Stone pulled them to their feet. “How about rock, paper, scissors to decide?”
A guard yelled out, calling down to let everyone inside the wall know Parrish had returned. The gong stayed silent. A group continued to chisel at the side of the gate that hadn’t been opened yet. Someone called up for the rope ladder, ignoring the open side of the gate. Tess saw Parrish when he reached the top of the wall. He shouted down to the crowd.
“Roy Terry! Come here. To the wall. I have something to say to you.” Children scattered. It was a game to be the first to get a message to whoever was wanted.
What was Parrish up to? He hadn’t even said hello to Tess.
Parrish pulled something from around his neck, balled it up in one hand, and held it out in front of him. As fast as a round pumpkin of a man could move, Terry hustled across the parking lot.
Parrish cupped his mouth with one hand and bellowed, “Roy Terry!”
The man stood at the base of the wall, huffing and puffing. The sun crested the row of spiked posts. Parrish stood as a black outline against the blazing light. It hurt to look at him. He opened his fist, dropping the thing he’d been holding into the dirt in front of Roy Terry.
The man bent and picked up the set of dog tags, looking at them for a long moment and then up at Parrish.
“Father Roy Terry, I’m going to marry that woman.” He pointed to Tess. “And you’re going to make it official.”
Terry turned, searching for her in the crowd. Tess walked to stand in front of the man who’d staggered into their lives, pulled the tags out of his hands, saw the cross etched in the metal. “He came here, your cousin, wanting to confess his sins. I couldn’t understand it at the time. This is older than the Flare-Out Wars, isn’t it? You were in the real military and then with the junior soldiers.” She searched his face. “What happened to you?”
Tears sparkled through the dust on Father Roy Terry’s face. “Duty and filthy roads and wrong turns.” He blocked the sun with his hand, stared up at the sky.
Parrish called out, “Tessla Cybill Lane, will you marry me before Heaven and all these people?”
Everyone looked at her: eyebrows raised, mouths open, hands on hearts.
She laughed and then nodded her head. “Yes!” There were cheers and a few whistles. “Get down before somebody shoots you off of there.” More cheers.
“Not going to happen. Isn’t anyone around for miles and miles because the tide’s officially gone out, and there’s a lovely line of discarded treasures left on the sand.”
She grinned at his report, the inside joke, and felt for the carved shell rose necklace around her neck. She pulled El’s happy, smiling skull out of the pocket of the jacket—roses and bones. She would wear them that way, together, around her neck as a reminder that a world made of skulls was no place for roses, and it was time to plant more than bones. It was time for flowers and gardens and the future.
The ladder flopped to the ground. Parrish slid to the bottom. Holding out his hand to her, he said, “Come on, Miss Lane, I can’t become an old, old man without you.”
About the Author
Linda L. Zern is an award-winning author who has written children’s chapter books (Mooncalf, The Pocket Fairies of Middleburg) and an inspirational book (The Long—Promised Song) serving as both writer and illustrator. A collection of the author’s humorous essays (ZippityZern’s: A Collage; ZippityZern’s: Fifty More) is available at Amazon.com. When she is not writing fiction, she is growing and training flowers, butterflies, grandchildren, rabbits, chickens, and police horses. Beyond the Strandline is a work of young adult fiction with action, adventure, survival, romance, grid collapse, and a “prepper” backdrop and a first book in the series.
Connect with Linda Online
FACEBOOK (AUTHOR PAGE):
https://www.facebook.com/LindaLZern
TWITTER:
https://twitter.com/LindaLZern
ZIPPITYZERN’S BLOG (Linda L. Zern):
www.zippityzerns.blogspot.com
WEBSITE: www.zippityzerns.com
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE FOR LINDA L. ZERN:
www.amazon.com/author/lindazern
Thank you, girls of the Strandline team: Maren and her artistic eye; Heather and her willingness to read the first wispy drafts; Mary and her enthusiastic support; Mindy and her great suggestions; the readers who write reviews and love the characters and keep me writing; and Sarah, who helps me with every single word. Corey, Carol, and so many more . . .