Desolation

by M. L. Banner

  That had been over thirty minutes ago.

  They saw an approaching cloud of dust and heard the strange sound of a truck’s engine and wheels rumbling down their dirt road.

  They walked toward the approaching vehicle, something none of them had seen in almost a year. It was an older Chevy Blazer, much like the one Darla’s sister had. Same color, but this had metal mesh on the hood and roof, and what looked like a half-dozen bullet holes. As it was pulling up it stopped suddenly. The man behind the wheel slowly opened the door and stepped out, and stared at her. She could see him crying and mouthing words she couldn’t hear as he walked closer.

  “Darl…?” creaked out of his mouth, barely visible within his full black and white beard, and equally impossible to hear.

  Then she heard “Darla, it’s you,” and saw him shaking.

  But, how could he know… “Dad?” Realization hit her like a thunderbolt. She ran into his arms. “Dad, is it really you?” Already knowing the answer, she buried her face in his chest.

  “Dar!” another voice cried from the back as the hatch popped open. Sally jumped out and ran to them, embracing her sister, who still clutched their father.

  “Oh my God, Sis, I never thought I would see you again!” Darla was near hysterics. “Where’s M… Is that Mom inside the house?”

  Bill could barely talk, squeezing both of his daughters tightly, not wanting to let go.

  “Where’s Danny?” Bill choked out, not letting go, his gaze searching. “Is he here?”

  That feeling in the pit of her stomach rose instantly. That horrible sadness that had taken months to rid herself of shook her body once more, as fresh as the day it had happened. She looked up into her father’s eyes; they searched hers for the answer, but her tears and mask of sadness said it all. He knew.

  Darla’s body convulsed, her words muddled but unmistakable as she sobbed, “I’m so sorry, Daddy. I couldn’t protect him.”

  He pulled her in close and held her, telling her it was all right even though it wasn’t. They would have to deal with that pain later. At least his daughter was safe. They should celebrate this. He waited until her crying ebbed and then he asked, “So what’s this?” Bill put his hand on her belly.

  Darla looked back, wiping her face with her sleeve, and beckoned Steve over. “Dad, Sally, this is my husband, Steve Parkington.”

  “Pleased to meet you, sir,” Steve said, offering his hand.

  “Oh Christ, we’ve outlived those formalities.” Bill half-laughed, and with that he hugged his new son-in-law.

  “Darla should have warned you by now,” Sally said, wiping her own eyes and trying to collect herself when it was her turn to welcome him, “we’re huggers in this family. Very happy to meet you as well.”

  “Hey, what about me?” A familiar voice floated toward them from the back.

  Darla turned. There, resting on one leg and the bumper of the Bronco, was Max, who looked like he had been through a ten-round fight and lost in every round. There were more bandages and gauze than there was him.

  “Oh, Uncle Max, I can’t believe you’re here too,” she said, hugging him tight.

  “Watch it, Dar, I’m a little sensitive there.” He winced as she released him.

  “Can we go see Mom now?” Darla begged, putting her arm around her father as they walked the house.

  “I’m Steve, ahh, Mr. Thompson.” Steve came over, hand out.

  “Bill’s correct, enough of the formalities. Call me Uncle Max. And you can tell me about you as you help me into the house.”

  57.

  New Home

  After several days of exchanging stories, laughter, and tears while Max healed, everyone felt a tension in the air. A decision had to be made. Herb offered them all sanctuary at his ranch, inviting them to stay as long as they wanted—forever even, if they wished.

  Max told them about Cicada. He made them all swear not to tell another soul, because of its importance in finding answers to what ailed their world. When he was fully healed he would leave; he offered them all the chance to come with him. He stressed that no one but the top scientists and their immediate families were given this offer. He also explained that everyone would have a job, and he was sure that some of their skills were definitely needed.

  “Sally, Darla, Steve, your IT skills will come in handy as I know we will need help with all the computers. Bill, we will need the skills you have developed in your business over the years. Lisa, someone who is as organized as you, and your years of being on management teams for companies, will be put to good use. Miguel and Maria, and of course your daughter, and everyone else here, there is a place for you, if you would like.”

  They all struggled with this because they suspected not everyone would go and that meant they would not all be together.

  “Darla, I think it’s time that I show you what we’ve been working on all these days and evenings. Come on,” Steve said to everyone. “You can all come, because this will affect your decision.” He led Darla by the hand and walked the group out the back and to the canyon.

  “Wow, Herb, this place is amazing,” said Lisa, holding her husband’s hand and looking up at the ridge.

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Herb chortled.

  They were quiet, except for their collective “oohs” and “ahhs,” until they reached the mouth of the cave and stopped as Herb played tour guide. “The best I can figure, this cave was naturally created, but then made much better by an Indian tribe a thousand or so years ago. It actually connects to caves below ground that go for hundreds of miles, maybe even as far as Carlsbad Caverns.”

  He ushered them through the cave opening. It was a dark tunnel that appeared to be lit from the other side. When they emerged on the other side, they were in a giant, cigar-shaped, atrium-like area, surrounded by natural red cliff walls, with a walkway spiraling up around the outside all the way to the top, maybe one hundred feet above.

  “God made the structure, but the Indians carved this amazing corkscrew walkway up and around the whole place. They also carved each of these individual caves out, amazingly with hand tools. It must have taken years to complete. Each one of these holes,” he said as he led them up the walkway and past the first hole, directing their attention to it, “is a carved-out two-room structure. It’s not big by our Before Event standards, but more than comfy for two people.”

  Herb stopped in front of the second of the cave holes. “I figured if the sun continues to be as strong as it is, we can’t stay in our normal houses outside. It will be just too strong. So, I thought it best to start the process of moving into the caves.” He nodded to Steve, who picked up where he left off.

  “So, what we have been working on, Darla”—Steve stepped in front of the opening and held out his hand for her—“is our home.”

  She grabbed his hand, curious and excited, and followed him through the opening, recently enlarged to accommodate their taller, more modern frames. The room opened up to be about ten feet high and equally wide. Darla was mesmerized, taking it all in. This was a living and dining area, with a couch, two chairs, and a table. In a carved niche rested a photograph they had taken of themselves at the lake when they first met, or rather met again–Steve must have been carrying it with him the whole time. It was in a wood frame that looked hand-made with care.

  “Oh my God, I love this. Did you carve the frame?” She asked holding it up to him, and then handing it to Bill and Lisa, who had joined them.

  Steve just shrugged his shoulders and grinned, overjoyed at her reaction.

  She clapped in delight as she turned and led them into the next passageway, where a plastic privacy curtain blocked entry. She pushed it aside and then stepped into their bedroom. Natural light came through a window carved out of the stone, evidently from the other end of the cliffs. The room held a small bed, perfect for the two of them, and on the other side was a baby crib, made of hand-carved tree branches, with a swaddling blanket folded neatly inside.

&nbs
p; Steve stepped in just as she looked back, her face a picture of peaceful happiness. “Do you know how much I love you?” She hugged him. “You’ve made me so happy.”

  “All right, let your father and mother see their baby girl’s love nest—”

  “Dad,” Darla admonished him with a short punch to the chest.

  “This is a fine place to raise a son.” Lisa smiled at her daughter and new son-in-law.

  “So, Darla told you?” Steve asked.

  “No, a woman just knows,” Lisa answered. “You did a fine job, Son. Hope you don’t mind?”

  “No… ah, Mom, I don’t mind,” Steve responded, his voice quaking a bit.

  “Come on, out,” Herb called from the walkway, barely audible with all the rock separating them. “Let me show you where we get our water.”

  By the time they got back to the walkway, Herb was already walking down the way they had come. Darla and Steve followed from the back, their arms wrapped around each other’s backs, Darla’s belly leading the way.

  Herb turned into another tunnel entrance at the ground level, near where they had come in, and disappeared. They all tentatively followed him into the darkness. Their eyes attempted to adjust to the only light they came upon, a single torch on a wall. Herb grabbed another, touched it to the lit one, and handed it to Bill and Lisa. This was repeated until seven lit torches cut through the darkness. Torches held aloft, Herb led them through a winding series of tunnels, each going down at a fairly steep angle.

  Only a few steps into the first descent it became cooler, and the air was heavy with moisture. Several of them wrapped their free arms around their chests to stay warm. When they reached what looked like the end of this passageway, they could see a small entrance to another dark void. Herb placed his torch in the wall, in an obvious bracket. Sally watched her brother-in-law place his in another bracket on the wall and she placed hers into yet another. The others followed suit. When each bracket held a torch, the room was quite well lit. In the middle of the floor was a wooden pulley with a hand crank and rope rolled up around a two-foot spool. At the end of the rope was a bucket resting on its side, beside what looked like a round wooden door in the floor. In the distance was the muffled roar of running water.

  “This is where our water comes from.” Herb lifted the wooden door and the sound cascaded out and around the room. It filled their senses with the aroma of a mountain spring. Herb had to shout now, competing with the water’s booming voice. “This was also here long before I bought the place. The crank and bucket are probably a hundred years old, although I’ve added some new parts. But the hole above the water you hear has been here for at least a thousand years, probably a lot more. This aquifer runs this loud year round.”

  Max wondered how many years their water would last before it dried up, unless of course Cicada found an answer. He kept this thought to himself. “How deep are we, would you guess?”

  “I’m guessing about one hundred fifty feet. The stream is another twenty feet down.”

  They continued on their tour marveling at what had been built so long ago, yet remained so functional today. Their show-and-tell also provided a perfect detour—it would be one of many—from the decision each of them faced, but none wanted to make.

  58.

  It’s a Boy… and a Girl

  Days turned to weeks and then a little over a month, when all decided to wait for the new births before rendering their final decisions. Max decided not to press, figuring they’d waited this long to get here, a little longer wouldn’t hurt anyone. Darla and Olivia had their babies within two days of each other. Darla, as expected, “popped” first, and two nights later Olivia had her baby girl, albeit prematurely. Both babies were healthy and so were their mothers. It was a joyous time for everyone, to see new life in a land that for the past year had only shown them death.

  Darla sat in her favorite soft chair—a house warming gift from Herb—in their “new” living area, with the baby crib beside her. Her chair was pointed toward the outer opening to their cave home, giving her the best light. She uncapped the fountain pen and began her next journal entry.

  We settled into our cave home almost right away, and waited for the happy day. On that day, thirteen days ago, we named him–yes, it was a boy just as Mom and I had said–Thomas, after his grandfather Thomas John Parkington Jr. In Steve’s family, Thomas was pronounced “Tomas” and so that is how we pronounce it. However, as it was custom here, first by Herb and then everyone else, we started calling him Toma right away.

  Two days later, Olivia and Wilber’s baby was born, and they named her Emma, after Olivia’s friend Emma who died at Wilber’s ranch in Illinois. Oh, they resisted calling their daughter Em at first, but within days, they gave in.

  This strange cave home of ours felt a little isolated at first, as we were the only ones here saying goodnight to the evening’s crickets and the green auroras. Then, the men finished Herb’s cave three away from ours. He preferred his view of the entrance to the oval. As water flows through a now broken dam, once Herb relocated from his ranch home, so did everyone else. Miguel, Maria, and their daughter, Ana, took the first cave, next to ours, saying that they were worried about Ana falling. I knew from Dad that since their episode on the roofs of the burnt houses in Mexico, Miguel admitted he was deathly afraid of heights.

  Now the place is a buzz of activity. Before long, when the rest of the caves are complete, everyone will be living here.

  Everyone, that is, but Mom, Dad, Sally, and Max. They continue to stay in Herb’s wood and stucco house, because they’ve decided to go to Cicada. Although I am sad at the thought of their leaving, I understand. They feel they are on a quest with Max and can contribute to maybe one day fixing what has messed up our earth. That discussion will come soon, and I’m not looking forward to it.

  For our own protection, we stay out of the sun and work mostly during the full shadow of late afternoon and evening. We sleep during the heat of the day. We all wear long-sleeved clothing and hats during our time in the sun, making sure all of our skin is covered. Max, Dad and Jos—yes, that’s Joselin—came up with a salve from a local tree bark that has a natural SPF in it. Jos’s mother, even though she was a city dweller, taught her all sorts of holistic healing. Lucky for us, it stuck. So we cover our day clothes and all our exposed skin in this.

  Speaking of Jos, the new love story is Jos and Herb’s son, Jas. I know Jos and Jas… you can’t make this stuff up! A few days ago, while I was in labor, I guess Jas gave Jos “the eye,” as she tells it, and from that moment on, they’ve been a couple. Jas doesn’t seem to mind Jos missing a leg, often using it as the beginning of a joke, like in, “Yesterday we were searching for Jos’s leg, when we found instead…” We’re all excited because, although Jos is a little older than Jas, they’re perfect together.

  This is a community, probably not a lot unlike the tribe that occupied this place a thousand years ago. We work, sleep, laugh, and cry together as one community. And even though we don’t have many of the things we so depended on, I feel our life, in a way, is so much more full for not having them.

  We all look forward to the times when, in the evening after work, we all come together and share stories about our lives before the Event. Who knew, but Stepha… I mean Steve (see, Herb has me doing it too) turned out to be a great story teller, repeating what he had read and heard, frequently telling others’ tales better than they could tell them. Often he embellishes on the stories adding his own wonderful flourish.

  “Are you ready?” Steve popped his head in the door and knelt down in front of her. He looked at his wife’s solemn face. He looked much more melancholy. “It’s time.” Her face sank.

  It was the day she had dreaded but had known it would come soon. It was the day they had to say goodbye.

  59.

  How We Got There From Here

  Max had the Blazer packed for the next part of their journey. With Wilber’s and Herb’s help, he was able to completely fi
x all the engine problems they were having. They didn’t have the electrical tools like they did in the past, but they had an unlimited supply of parts, from a seemingly endless number of cars at a dump only a few hours ride from here.

  This was going to be a tough goodbye as the Kings and Max were not likely to see Darla, Steve, and little Toma for a long time, maybe never. After losing their son but reuniting with their daughter, Bill and Lisa were hesitant to separate again. Staying here was certainly tempting. Herb had done a marvelous job of creating this community from the ancient ruins of a lost Indian tribe. Max could see the draw of this place. It was sort of mystic, but more than that, it had the one natural resource that few others could count on: fresh water, at least for now.

  Max almost hated pushing the Kings to make this decision, but it was time. They had stayed long enough to witness their grandson’s birth and spend time getting to know him and their son-in-law. Now they had to leave, or at least he did. He wanted to give them one more chance to say no, to be sure that they wanted to make this pilgrimage.

  Steve walked into the ranch house, with Darla beside him clutching baby Toma in a cross-body sling over her right shoulder. It was similar to a design she had seen in a book in Herb’s library, about the Indian tribe who had occupied this place. Funny how some designs work just as well one thousand years later. The Kings were already seated in the great room that used to be Herb’s study and their living room.

  “It’s that time, when I have to go,” Max said slowly. “Before I say anything more, Herb, you’ve done an amazing job with this place. If I didn’t believe I could make a difference, I would stay here with you and this beautiful community that has formed around you.”

  Herb acknowledged with a smile and nodded his thanks.

  “I also feel great about Darla and Steve and their son, Toma, living here, knowing that they will be able to forge a fruitful life here together. That said, Bill, Lisa, and Sally, I want you to reconsider coming with me and stay here.”