by C. B. Stone
The rusty hinges let out a loud creak as I open the old door. I can feel the dust falling down upon us, and work to stifle a sneeze. It’s dark inside, but I walk forward confidently and pull on a string I know is hanging from the ceiling. Bright light floods the little open space.
I smile in satisfaction. The cot is still there, sitting along the back of the shed as always, looking rather lonely. It’s dusty, as are most things that sit for more than few days here in the Valley. It has been so long since rain has fallen that just about everything around here seems to be coated with a fine layer of dust. I step back outside, making room for Noah to enter, and motion him in.
“It’s nice,” Noah says, stepping around me to look inside. I stay back, knowing there’s only room for one person to comfortably stand in the tiny space.
I lean one hip against the edge of the doorway and watch him. “You don’t have to placate me,” I laugh. I know the shed isn’t much to brag about.
“I’m not,” he says, turning around to face me again, his expression earnest. “Really,” he insists quietly. “It’s the best I’ve had in a very long time, Jaelynn. I truly appreciate the kindness.”
I feel another lump rise in my throat as guilt fills my heart once more. To think, I always complain about how hard we have it. It isn’t always easy to remember there are plenty of other people in the world who have it much harder.
“Listen, I don’t think I can tell my parents you’re here until at least tomorrow. And even then, I may not get a chance,” I say.
Deep down, I know I might not tell them at all, simply because I know they won’t easily say yes to the situation. He is a drifter after all. “So if possible, just wait here until I come out for you, okay? I’ll bring you food and water. And they’re gone a lot, so I can let you know when it’s safe and then we can work on the garden together. But I really need you to stay out of sight.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he agrees, smiling at me. When he does, I finally notice he has a dimple in his chin, serving to soften his face into something even more boyish than it already was.
“But listen,” he continues, “I don’t want to get you in any trouble with your folks.”
I shrug, trying to appear confident. “It’s no trouble, Noah, promise.” The words come out in a near whisper, betraying my anxiety despite my best efforts.
I sigh. I can’t explain my feelings, but I truly want him to stay. I want to see what else he can do, for one thing, and I also want to try and understand what it is exactly he’s already done.
If he can do that to my garden, imagine what he might be capable of doing for other people too. We could bring food back to the Valley, maybe even the whole world.
I have to smile inwardly at my suddenly lofty goals. Whoa there, Jaelynn. Slow down, don’t get ahead of yourself.
The bottom line is my parents would never understand how important this is, how important he is. I’m not even sure I can explain it. At least not yet.
“My dad will be home in a few hours. You can hang out back here, if you like, until he gets in. You’ll hear his beater of a truck driving down the road long before he arrives so that should give you plenty of time to get out of sight.” I give him an intense stare. “That’s your sign go to bed. If you don’t, well, I can’t promise he won’t kill you for trespassing. He is a Ministerial officer and carries a gun —”
I’m not finished talking, but Noah places his finger to my lips as if to silence me, and my voice trails off uncertainly.
“Don’t worry,” Noah assures me, his eyes dancing again. Amusement seems to be his default mood. “I promise I won’t let him see me unless you tell me it’s okay.”
The proximity of his hand to my face sends a shiver down my spine. It isn’t that cold outside, but bits of electricity dance upon my lips and move through my body like something coming to life after years of sitting dormant. He must feel it to, because he yanks his finger back quickly, as if something has shocked him. His brow furrows as his eyes collide with mine, his shocked expression mirroring my own. “What was that?”
I shake my head. “I... I don’t know,” I shiver, my teeth visibly rattling. “I’ve never felt any like anything like that before in my entire life.”
“Me either.” Noah holds out his hand, palm up as he inspects it, then shakes it as if it’s on fire.
I reach up to touch my own lips cautiously. The electric sensation has ebbed and they have returned to normal. My finger doesn’t reproduce the same feeling at all. It is definitely something in Noah that sparks the sensation, if it isn’t me. Or maybe it’s something about him touching me that causes it? Maybe it has something to do with our combined touch...
“Try it again?” I ask, afraid of what might happen, but unable to help wondering if he touches me again for a longer period of time, will the feeling will be stronger?
Noah frowns. “Are you sure you’re up for it? It hurt like heck.” He shakes his hand again, as if he is still feeling the strange sensation and trying to erase it.
I nod. “It didn’t hurt me exactly. It felt strange, but not painful. Like a static shock being sent through my body more than anything. But if it hurt you —“
He straightens, standing taller. “I’m not afraid of a little shock.” He winks and grins, though I can see in his eyes he’s at least mildly apprehensive about touching me again.
So I take it upon myself to touch him instead. Reaching out my hand experimentally, I run a fingertip softly across the dimple on his chin. I feel an electric shock explode up my arm, and I’m sent flying backwards with a squeak. Noah leaps forward and catches me in his arms before I hit the ground, his dark eyes wide with renewed shock as he stares at me.
There is a static humming sensation running all through my body, but it isn’t painful. It makes me feel alive, energized. And judging by the freaked out look in Noah’s eyes, I can sense he feels it too.
“What the heck is this?” he demands, helping me stand up while I squeeze his arms in a death grip.
I blink a little dazedly. “I was hoping you knew,” I manage to choke out.
When I regain my footing and am standing steady, he lets me go. Even though the initial shock has subsided, I still feel as if I have electricity running through my veins.
“How do you feel?” I ask, somewhat absently, staring at my own skin half expecting it to glow or something. My eyes are wide with wonder.
“Like a robot who’s just been brought to life,” Noah bursts out in laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. “It can’t be —“
“Can’t be what?” I question him. “You said you had no idea what this is all about!”
Noah shakes his head again, his wild hair flying around his head. “I don’t. Not really.” He scrubs a hand across his face, his own eyes bright with excitement.
“Not really!” I exclaim. “So you have some idea? When you grabbed my shoulders earlier when we shook hands, why didn’t we feel it then? Why only now?”
Noah sighs. “I don’t have all the answers, Jaelynn. I wish I did.”
“But you have some of them? Spill, Noah, everything you know,” I demand. I’m still trembling a little, feeling more alive than I ever have before. “I deserve to know.”
Just then a sound pulls our attention away from one another. The sound of a sputtering engine and tires crunching on gravel. I gasp. My dad’s car. “Oh no!”
Eyes wide, I shove Noah into the shed and slam the door shut behind me. Rushing back inside the house through the back door, I nearly run into my father just as he is coming in the front.
“Everything okay?” He shuts the front door behind him as he speaks, before turning to face me.
“Yes, of course, Papa. Why do you ask?” I plaster a smile on my face as I step forward and kiss him on the cheek in welcome.
“Well, the front door was open, and you never leave the doors open at night.” My father pecks me back on the cheek as he speaks.
I shrug nonchalantly. “I was
just outside, checking on the garden.”
“In the dark?” He raises a brow, a little skeptical.
“I wanted to grab a tomato. For a snack.” I pull a tomato from my apron, relieved I placed them there, and silently corroborating my small fib, I hold it up for him to see.
My father is better at detecting lies than my mother, which means I have to smile even brighter and work even harder to convince him that nothing is going on. I’ve never lied to my father before though, which I hope wins me some credibility.
His eyes light up. “I didn’t realize we had any tomatoes right now. I didn’t see any when I left this morning,” he comments.
“I found a few,” I continue to fib, feeling extremely uncomfortable. Gritting my teeth, I try to change the subject. “So Papa, why are you home so early?”
“I wanted to check on you. The Ministry got wind of a disturbance out here in the Valley. Said something messed with the electrical fields. The coordinates were near here, so I just wanted to be sure everything was fine. I was worried.”
“Everything is fine, Papa,” I smile again, feeling rather like a clown with all the fake smiling I’m engaging in. “See?” I wave a hand around the empty room.
“I can see that.” His gaze nevertheless probes around the house, his expression unreadable. “And you haven’t seen anything strange going on outside, have you?” His gaze comes back to rest squarely on me.
I almost wince. This feels like an interrogation from my own father, but then again I guess it shouldn’t surprise me. Most of our conversations feel that way these days.
The job really gets to him, and he takes it very seriously. I can’t help but wonder if he would take it seriously enough to turn me in if he were to find me with Noah. I bite my lip, gearing up to fib again.
“Nope, I haven’t,” I say cheerfully. “I haven’t seen anything weird at all, Papa.”
He crosses his arms. “No one hanging around that shouldn’t be here?” he asks, narrowing his eyes a bit as he looks at me.
I swallow hard. I wonder if he knows more than he’s letting on. Does he know I’m not being truthful?
Just for a moment, I forget he’s my father, the man who raised me, who gave me life. He is simply another Ministerial officer, someone who could decide to torture me at a moment’s notice without the slightest shred of proof if he thought I was withholding information from the Ministry.
I take a deep breath though, and remind myself that this is my dad, my father, my Papa. He wouldn’t hurt me, not even if I was lying. Or at least I hope he wouldn’t. I’ve never actually pushed him this far before to see.
“No, Papa, I swear.”
He relaxes a little and looks relieved. “Good,” he says, his hands dropping to his sides. “I have to get back to work then, and figure out what’s going on. I’m probably going to be working a double now.”
Grasping me by both arms, he leans forward and plants a kiss on the top of my head, before spinning on his heel and striding back out the front door, letting it slam shut behind him.
I wilt once the door closes behind him, sinking into a kitchen chair, my legs unable to hold me up any longer. I feel bad about keeping things from him. Feel guilty about lying to him. But I just know there is no way I can tell him about Noah.
All I can do is fervently hope my father will still be more my father and less the Ministerial officer, if Noah and I are ever caught.
V
WHEN I hear my father’s car drive off in the distance, I leap to my feet and make my way to the backyard again, this time with beans and rice in hand. My dad isn’t going to eat them, so best not to let them go to waste.
Knocking tentatively on the shed door, I whisper, “Noah? It’s me.”
The door swings open, and Noah stands there, looking a bit surprised. “Home early, I guess?”
“Only stopping by. Something weird is going on. My father said the Ministry is picking up on weird electrical signals out here. We need to be careful, okay? I can’t tell them you’re here.” My hands tighten around the bowl of food, feeling a little nauseous at the thought of my father finding out about us and what’s been happening.
Noah only nods. “Maybe I should find somewhere else to stay then?” His face registers disappointment, which I am sure echoes my own expression.
“Maybe so. If we can find somewhere suitable, that is. But not until then. It’ll be fine for now. Just be really careful, okay?” I try to look encouraging.
“I’ll do my best.” He smiles half-heartedly, but even then, doesn’t look overly concerned.
“You don’t seem that worried,” I observe, quirking a brow.
Noah shrugs. “I’m not really. Whatever happens, happens anyway. So why worry about it? It does no good.”
I frown a little. “We’re all in control of our actions, Noah. We do have control over what happens to us.” I say it forcefully, more trying to convince myself than anything. As if the stronger I say it, the more true it will become.
“Do you really believe that?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow in my direction. “Like seriously, 100%, without a doubt, believe that everything that happens to us comes about because of the choices we make, and not because the government, or maybe someone else, is controlling it? Or maybe even helping us out sometimes?” His gaze is shuttered, almost as cryptic as his words, and I only feel confused by them.
I take in a lungful of the cool night air, shoving away my feelings of confusion and standing up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Noah. Just be careful, okay? If you refuse to be careful because you don’t care about what happens to yourself, then be careful to make sure nothing happens to me. I could be arrested for lying to an officer of the Ministry.” My voice goes up a little on the last, betraying my anxiety.
Noah reaches out to touch me, but I step back quickly. “Jaelynn —“
I hold up my free hand, interrupting him. “No. We have to be very careful. What if it was us setting off the sensors back at the Ministry? What if whatever happened between us is what caused the electrical signals to go crazy? It’s just better if we don’t touch, okay?”
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he says, backing up. “But just... trust me, please? Trust me that this will all work out. Listen to your intuition, you know it to be true. Your intuition is why you let me stay here in the first place.”
I’m not so sure. I’m having a hard time understanding for myself why I let him stay, but something in his words still rings true. Nonetheless, I can’t allow this discussion to continue. It’s just too dangerous. I back up a step, out of the light flitting through the doorway of the shed, into the welcoming darkness of the night.
“Just be careful, okay? I’m going to bed.” I remember the bowl of food in my hand, and shove it in his direction. “My dad didn’t eat before he left, and this won’t be any good by morning. Our refrigerator went out a while back, and we can’t keep anything fresh. So it’s yours.”
Noah doesn’t reach out for the food. “You eat,” he argues. “You gave me the tomatoes, that’s plenty for tonight.” I swallow a sigh at his stubbornness.
“I already had dinner, and I can grab something from the garden on my way inside. There is some lettuce sprouting up, I believe. I can make a salad.” My mouth waters a little. “A salad is something I haven’t had in so long,” I say wistfully.
Noah hesitantly steps closer to take the food from me. “Are you sure?” he asks. I can hear his stomach growling from where I stand and almost roll my eyes. There is no other option, the man is starving. My tone dry, I respond “Yes, I’m sure. Eat.”
Noah reaches out, careful not to touch my hand in the exchange of the bowl, then stirs the rice and beans, an appreciative look on his face as he sniffs. “Thank you, Jaelynn. You’re a good person. Better than most, you know that?”
“I’m not better than most,” I retort, feeling my cheeks grow warm at his complement. “I just want to feed the world, that’s all.” Granted t
hat seems to be a lofty goal at this point in time.
“And I know you’ll find a way to do just that,” he mumbles, shoving a spoonful of food into his mouth with a smile, his eyes sparkling.
“I don’t see how,” I disagree with a shrug, returning his smile as I watch him eat, caught by the sparkle.
He shrugs back, but doesn’t argue with me again. Something in his eyes tells me he knows more than he’s giving away about all this crazy stuff happening. At least for this night. He’ll have to share more eventually.
Stepping back another step, I say softly, “I’m going to bed now. Good night, Noah. Sleep well. And be careful, please?”
“I will,” he promises. “I’d never put your life in danger, Jaelynn. Never.” His tone is adamant.
And I can’t explain why, but for some reason, I believe him.
******
As I curl up into my feather bed a little while later, I stare out at the moonlit night through the window. The sky is as clear as day, the moon bright and shining. Not a single cloud mars it.
There hadn’t been a cloud in the sky for months now for that matter, and that has been worrying me more than almost anything in the world. No clouds, no rain. No rain, no water.
Without water, the food shortages will only continue, getting worse by the day. People’s gardens are already dying, and their reserves are running dangerously low.
My eyelids are heavy however, and though I fight them, fight to continue my train of thought, trying to solve all these world problems, inevitably I lose the battle and they start to close.
Every spring the sweet young flowers
open bright and gay,
till the chilly autumn hours
wither them away.
My eyes snap back open as the music fills my ears, and I smile. I know I should be afraid, but I only feel peace.
This time though, the song isn’t coming from my dream like normal, it’s coming from outside. I can hear it through my open window, drifting softly on the night breeze. It’s coming from the shed.