Finding Eden

by Dinsdale, Megan

  “Dah…nee…bana…nee.” There it was again: Tex’s incoherent thoughts becoming spoken words.

  I rolled over and faced the shipping container wall. I dreamed of Tex teaching me new knife techniques with a banana while my parents were being consumed by a giant tidal wave in the background.

  It was night and that meant Tex had to leave. I had actually enjoyed his company more than I thought I would. I hadn’t really realized how utterly alone I had been until he came and I was scared to go back to that emptiness. I think, somewhere deep inside me, I always had a small gleaming of hope that my parents would come back to me. The small flame was extinguished yesterday by a monstrous wave. It hurt more than anything, but I was happy that I didn’t have to hold on to that false hope any longer. Maybe I was supposed to find Tex for a reason. Maybe he was here to put all my pipe dreams to rest.

  Whatever the reason was, it didn’t matter. Tex was packing up his stuff, including some food I willingly surrendered to him. It was time to face the music and die alone. Overly dramatic, I know. I was sitting on my bed watching him, making a schedule in my head of the night’s events.

  Watch Tex leave.

  Lock hatch behind him.

  Sweep.

  Make a mess just so I can clean and organize it.

  Play Yahtzee with myself.

  Eat lunch.

  Play Solitaire.

  Maybe finally make my parents’ bed.

  Eat dinner.

  Contemplate the rest of my life (give or take a few weeks)

  Go to bed.

  “Hey, Kid,” Tex said, stuffing a little bag of beef jerky into the side pocket of his pack. I swear, if he called me that one more time.

  “My. Name. Is.” The words escaped through gritted teeth. Before I could finish though, he interrupted. Again.

  “I was thinking…” he began, picking up his pack and swinging it against his back. Something resembling a scroll flew out of it and landed at my feet. “Shit.” He spat.

  What I didn’t know then, when I was looking down at the laminated, rolled up piece of paper, was that I was staring at the rest of my life. When I leaned down and picked it up—what I didn’t know was that I was holding onto my future. A future, at that moment, I didn’t think existed past a few weeks.

  I sat back on my bed and unrolled the paper. Everything in Tex’s face told me he didn’t want me to, but for once, curiosity saved the cat. It was a map of a desert—this desert. I recognized the jagged edges, the curves, the slopes of the mountains near my bunker. There were landmarks every few miles. Then there were safepoints spread even farther apart. Each safepoint was marked with a big red X. I followed a black line with my fingertip until it landed on a bright green circle that had Eden written above it.

  “Eden,” I murmured to myself. Emerald green trees with succulent fruits, bright blue, rushing waterfalls emptying into glassy lakes, and calm, gentle breezes all came to my mind. “The beginning of man.” I looked at Tex who was motionless. I ran my finger along the thin edge of the plastic lamination. “I’m guessing this is where you’re headed? Am I right?” I pursed my lips and handed him the map. “Eden, Tex? Really? Where did you find this? Is this even legit?”

  He nodded.

  “So, you were going to leave me here to die,” I said calmly with a killer undertone, “after I saved your life and fed you? Is that it? You were going to live in a lap of luxury knowing that I was dead? Do you even have a conscience?” I was surprised how well I kept control of my emotions. I was back to being my combative self that I thought I had left behind at Tex’s namesake.

  “I was about to tell you a minute ago. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” He yanked the map from my hands and rolled it up before shoving it in his pack.

  “Excuse me? Likely story, Tex.” I said his name like it was a sour taste on my tongue.

  “I’m serious, Blondie. Do you want to hitch a ride with me or not? Don’t get me wrong, you’ve got a nice pad here, but you and I both know that it won’t last another fifty years—you won’t last another fifty years.”

  “What if this map is a fake? Some kid’s toy? What if we get to this so-called Eden and it’s a dust bowl? Where did you even find that?”

  Tex let out a slow, calm breath, obviously trying to keep under control just like I was. “What do you have to lose, Kid? Huh? Look around! Nothing. You got pissed at me for not telling you, and now you’re trying to come up with a reason not to go. Make up your mind.”

  “But…” I looked over to my parents’ bed.

  “They’re not coming back. Even if they did, they would want you to find a better life than this. I’m sorry if that seems harsh, but it’s the truth. We all have to look out for ourselves and I’m offering you the opportunity to do just that.”

  I grabbed Teffy and held him in my lap, mulling over the entire situation. Obviously Tex was right, but it would feel so weird leaving this place. What if by some miracle my mom and dad were still alive? Leaving here would in a way be my final goodbye to my parents.

  I grabbed a piece of paper from the entertainment cabinet and quickly scrawled a note.

  Dad & Mom,

  I’ve learned about a better place. I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, but if you do, don’t worry about me. I’m fine and living fully. I’m not alone either. I found a friend. So don’t worry, and maybe someday, we’ll find each other again. I know we will.

  I love you forever,

  Your Sweet Little Elle

  “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” Tex looked down at my letter. I placed it on my bed, beside Teffy. I didn’t even want to think about having to abandon him, but it was time to leave childish things behind.

  “Fill up the rest of the water bottles,” I ordered. “I’ll stick as much food as I can in my backpack, along with the obvious necessities.”

  I refilled my first aid kit with creams, ointments, bandages, needles, thread, and alcohol wipes. I stuffed it into the small front pocket of my pack. I packed my tampons and a few changes of underwear. I wanted to bring a brush, but that would have taken up the space of a perfectly good, life-saving water bottle. Each side pocket had a bottle, and the smallest front pocket had the rest of my batteries, lighters, matches, and my single candle. In the main pocket were seven more bottles, most of my dehydrated food, and the canned foods that I had emptied into plastic baggies to allow for more room and less weight. I stuffed what else I could into Tex’s bag. I put on my last clean pair of thick socks that came up to my knees. My brown leather knee-high boots were tied securely around my ankles and calves. I made Tex turn around a put on a black sports bra. Over that was a loose, brown half-shirt. I stuffed a pack of gum into the pocket of my corduroy shorts and then buckled my makeshift utility belt around my hips. It had the flashlight and knife already in place. A metal canteen was hanging from my left hip. I had almost forgotten the tiny, wallet-sized portrait of my mom and dad. I tucked it safely away in my pack.

  “Ready?” Tex secured his backpack around his shoulders. It looked heavy, especially since the axe was attached to the back of it.

  I nodded and took one last look around the bunker I had called home for so many years. I said a silent goodbye and took the time for one last look at my parents’ bed, Teffy, and the note I left beside him. I wiped my eyes and followed Tex up the ladder, not looking back.

  Chapter 5

  [ Tex ]

  It was quiet and I hated the silence. Silence meant that I’d start to think about things that I didn’t want to remember. Even though it happened over four years ago, it still felt raw, like a fresh wound that would never scab over. The way Elle held on to her stuffed bear reminded me of my little girl. She would be eight now and would have been smart like her mother. She had her mom’s eyes and hair, but my nose and sense of humor. It was so easy for me to make her laugh, but even simpler for her to crack me up.

  I closed my eyes tightly and balled my hands into fists. Desperate for a distraction, I pulled my
map out even though I had looked at it only minutes ago. I surveyed the surroundings, deciding that we only had about four more miles to go and two hours to make it there in. Blondie and I had drained a single water bottle each since we left, trying to be as conservative as possible.

  We were walking side by side, but with enough space between us so the kid could have her own bubble. It was sort of comical walking beside her, with me being so tall and her being so short. She barely reached my sternum, but it didn’t seem to affect her. I was sure she had come to terms with being a munchkin years ago, I inwardly snorted.

  There was no rush since we had plenty of time to make our destination, but I was sure she was on the same page as I was: we just wanted to get to the safepoint and sleep.

  We were enclosed by darkness with only the moon and our flashlights to guide us. It was bright enough to see the outline of the mountains and hills which helped immensely in following the map. For once, the bitch of a sun was good for something, even though I would never admit it out loud. The temperature was, as always, uncomfortably high. I was sweating profusely and the dirt we would kick up while walking was layering itself on my skin. Blondie didn’t look like much a of prom queen herself, with her hair going every which way and dust smudged on every inch of her body—not that I was looking. There was no one to impress anyway. I covered my dead eye, suddenly feeling insecure about it.

  I was kicking a stone with the toe of my boot, entertaining myself, when I noticed our next landmark: four, gently sloping hills with a pathway between each two. I informed the girl and we were on our way again.

  I heard crackling and looked over to see her opening a bag of chips. By the smell of it, I could tell it was barbecue and it made saliva pool in my mouth. Without having to ask, she offered me some. I willingly obliged and took a handful. I realized that she was probably warming up to me, which, since we were to be making this trek together, should have been a good thing. To be honest though, I didn’t want her to warm up to me. It would only lead to complications. I didn’t want Eden to be complicated.

  Chomping on the stale chips, I imagined Eden. To be called that, it must be something spectacular, or maybe it was just a code name for somewhere to start anew. Maybe it was something similar to Blondie’s bunker except exponentially larger. I prayed it was green. I wanted fruit trees and vegetable gardens. I needed fast-moving streams and fish-inhabited ponds. Somewhere cool and damp, for once, was all I could ever ask for. For that to be my Eden would be an answer to all my prayers—if I ever decided to send one up to God, that is. There was only one way to find out, but I knew it was a pipe dream just like Blondie’s dream of her parents coming back some day. Nothing like that could survive in this climate. I wondered what the chick beside me thought of it.

  “Hey, Kid,” I said as we finally made our way out from between the hills.

  “Elle.” She spoke as if she was talking to a child.

  “So, Blondie, what do you think this Eden will look like?” I ignored her and plastered my face with a toothy grin.

  “You mean you don’t know?” She emphasized don’t a little too much.

  “Just answer my question,” I finished off the last chip.

  “I just imagine it in the biblical sense,” she shrugged. “Earth, natural, lots and lots of trees. Maybe a devious snake.”

  “I hope you’re right sans the snake.” I sighed and ran my hand over my hair, feeling sweat build up in my palm.

  “You do that a lot.” She pointed out.

  “Do what?”

  “Run your hand over your head. Is it a nervous tick or something?”

  “More like an anxiety tick.”

  “Is there such a thing?” She narrowed her eyes. Was she being playful?

  “There is now. I suppose if there was ever a time to create words and phrases it would be now.”

  She laughed and so did I. It felt good, like some sort of weight was lifted off my chest—almost freeing. We continued to walk for quite some time in silence until it was broken by her.

  “Hey, Tex?” I watched her comb her fingers through her hair. It looked white under the moonlight. She separated it in three even parts and began to braid it, starting at the crown of her head and ending at her waist. She fastened it with a loose elastic hair tie that looked like it had been stretched too many times. It was a French braid. I knew that because my wife used to do that with our little girl’s hair.

  “Hmm?”

  “Do you know what day it is today?”

  Her question surprised me. It was random.

  “No, but I think it’s February.”

  Blondie sighed as she draped her braided hair over her shoulder and ran her hand down its length. She had missed a strand near her ear; she curled it around her finger, over and over again. It seemed like the act comforted her in some way.

  “Six more months and it’ll be five years.”

  “Weird,” I said as I pressed my lips together. Time goes by so quickly when it seems so slow.

  “Weird,” she repeated in agreement and bit down on her lip. She did that when she was thinking I realized. “How much longer?”

  “One more landmark and then we’ll be at our next stop.” I pulled out the map once again and shined my flashlight on it. “We’ll be there in approximately two miles.”

  “Good. I’m beat and my legs are beginning to complain.” She took out another bottle and took a pull from it.

  “Oh yeah, what are they saying?” I saw the last landmark up ahead. It was a smaller mountain with two boulders on top, one balanced very dangerously on the other. I was just waiting for it to topple over, but I knew it must have been like that for hundreds, if not thousands, of years—especially if the earthquake couldn’t even move it.

  “Nothing I can repeat. It’s pretty vulgar stuff, Tex.”

  We laughed again. I guess we were bonding, over what, I wasn’t sure. Maybe the heat was just making everything seem more comical than it actually was; maybe it was making us friendlier towards each other. Whatever the reason, it was nice not having to think of the ones I had lost almost five years ago and I guess, despite my desires, if I had to be friendly with someone to achieve that, so be it. I was really beginning to think I was bipolar—one second I didn’t want to be friendly with her; the next, I did. This girl was going to test my sanity, I knew it.

  “Tex?” Blondie didn’t look at me. She kept her eyes straight ahead. She was probably trying to figure out those boulders too.

  “Shoot.” I wiped my forehead off, flicking the gathered sweat from my hand.

  “Thanks for letting me tag along.” There was no sarcasm. She seemed sincere. I think there was even a smile in her voice.

  “Thanks for saving my life.” I nudged her arm with my elbow.

  “It was the least I could do after you attacked me.”

  Laughter echoed around us as the safepoint came into view.

  The safepoint was a cave carved into a mountainside. It was deep enough that the temperature dropped about thirty degrees. The cavern walls were sharp, jagged, and stony. The smell was thick, almost physical, like rotten earth. I was hoping to hear the dripping of water, but I was sorely disappointed. Our flashlights guided us farther and farther in until we found our stopping point.

  Just like every safepoint before, this one also had emergency supplies. I guess I had forgotten to let Blondie in on this little secret; she looked at me like I was going mad when I pushed aside a large rock with my boot, peeled back a dirt-covered, thickly-woven rug, and pulled out a box from the ground. She was bright-eyed with excitement seeing the contents of the big brown box. There were a few gallons of water, expired MREs, a first-aid kit, batteries, a blanket, and a lantern.

  The kid yanked the blanket from the box and unfolded it. Her face was drawn in a frown, like she was disappointed with the piece of fabric. She examined the cave floor, trying to find the flattest piece of earth. At least, that’s what I would have done. I was right because she used the par
t of the ground I would have and gently placed the blanket down. She seemed careful not to pick up any dust, which I was thankful for. It reminded me of days when dumb kids would pick up their beach towel, creating a sandstorm for unsuspecting beach-goers.

  I tossed her the batteries, but kept a couple for myself; my flashlight was on the fritz. I also took the first aid kit for myself because I knew she had her own and my resources were depleted a week or so ago. Each of us had our own gallon of water to drink. The third would be to clean ourselves. I let her know that as I handed her the jug.

  “I wish I had shampoo. My hair is so gross.” She unscrewed the cap and pulled a bar of soap from her pack.

  I dug in my own pack for a second and produced a travel size shampoo I had stolen from the gas station. I handed it to her and for a second, an expression of pure joy passed over her face.

  “Thanks,” she breathed. “It’s been too long.” She unraveled her hair, letting the blonde waves cascade down her back. “I shouldn’t be this excited to wash my hair,” she laughed.

  It was so weird seeing her open up to me. Though I’d only known her for just a few days, I’d only seen her as the shattered, yet spunky girl who put a knife to my throat. I wasn’t even sure if we’d be categorized as friends yet—maybe two people with similar goals. But I admit, it was good to see her laugh, especially since she blamed herself for her parents’ death. I wondered how long it had been since she'd had any joy. I wanted to ask her, especially since she’d been alone for almost five years, but I didn’t want to destroy her currently found happiness: shampooing her hair.

  “Tex, can you do me a favor?” She combed her fingers through her hair. It was thick with grime and grease. It didn’t gross me out, yet I’m sure it would have before this apocalypse. That I had grown up a little since then would be an understatement.