The Ending is Everything

by Aaron M. Carpenter

  We reached the center, where hundreds of trailers were lined up running north to south down the middle of the encampment. At the trailers, we made a right turn and made our way toward the parking lot. Another left turn, until, finally after another thirty-minute walk Jill shined her flashlight on a sign at the front of a row of tents that read: CD3.

  “Your tents are right up ahead,” she said, leading us to our new homes. At the sixth tent on the right, she shined a light on a plywood sign attached to the tent at the peak, where the tent poles met, that read: CD36. Finally. “Here you go,” Jill said and left with a quick turn and a smile.

  No one said a word. We all looked around. But, no one went inside.

  “I can’t believe we are here,” Alicia, finally spoke, holding Jane in her arms, in front of tent thirty-seven.

  “How are we going to sleep?” Jenna asked. “Four in one, Five in the other?”

  “We’ll take this one for now,” Drew said. I thought that was obvious.

  “Who cares, let’s just do this,” Zero said, and I agreed. Jenna, Zero, Kaitlyn, Ethan and I entered tent thirty-six, after saying goodnight to Drew and family. A battery powered lantern sat on a small table in the middle of the room. Zero turned on the lamp, fumbling with its switch in the dark, eventually casting a pale, blue light into the room. The tent was ten by ten with three cots. The cot at the back was the single. The other two at the right and left of the tent were the doubles. We threw the suitcases in the back corners.

  “Me and you?” Kaitlyn asked me with a smile. I nodded, and we took the cot to the right. Jenna paired up with Ethan. Zero had already plopped down on the single bed in the back and under the covers of the thick, green, blanket. I pulled back the blanket and saw a standard cot, that was as uncomfortable as it looked. At least there were two thin pillows.

  I got in first, pulling off my shoes and jacket, but leaving my beanie and sweatshirt on. Kaitlyn took off her shoes only, and we fell into our usual position, which wasn’t very comfortable on the cot, but comforting none the same.

  “What do you think?” Kaitlyn whispered.

  “I really don’t know. I guess we will find out in the morning.”

  She said nothing further. I felt a sting in the back of my head, and some more throbbing. I forgot to take another painkiller. I moved to get up, but then I heard a slight snore from the warm body against mine, so I decided to stay in position. It didn’t matter ten minutes later, as I fell to sleep.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  11/17/2024

  Standing in line the next morning I looked down at my I.D. card, and it had printed on the back the times we were to eat. Breakfast between 9:00 a.m. and 9:15 a.m. We waited just off to the side of the mess hall between two ropes guiding us to the serving tables. Excluding Zero, he was still fast asleep and only made a grunt when we tried to wake him while waving us away. To our left, two porta-potties, which also had a lineup.

  The weather remained no better in the morning than it was the previous night. Kaitlyn, standing in front of me, kept shivering and blowing warm air into her hands. Jenna, behind me, kept shuffling her feet to keep the blood flowing. Everywhere I looked, people were bundled up. One elderly couple in front of us wore, what appeared to be FEMA issued jackets, but without the insignia. I imagine that in haste to evacuate when it was seventy-eight degrees, they ended up here without any warm clothes.

  To our right, was the dining area. Ten, white, folding tables, in five rows of two. Or two rows of five, depending on perspective. Some families were still seated. They must have been part of the 8:45 a.m. group.

  The dining area was shaped like a horseshoe in the center of our section. The serving area curved outward in front of two trailers where the food was prepared. Two porta-potties on each side and even two shower areas, which also had a line. I looked again down at my I.D. card, and it said I could shower on Thursdays and Sundays. At least it didn’t tell me when I could take a shit.

  We finally reached the serving tables, at 9:10 a.m. A man scanned the front of our I.D. card, which had a barcode on it, to verify it was our time and our first and only serving. I grabbed a paper plate and a plastic fork and was served by a lady from the Red Cross, from aluminum trays containing scrambled eggs and toast, which was buttered or not. Your choice. At least we had some choice. At the far table, were the drinks. Orange juice, milk, and water, in generic, small, plastic bottles. But, I went to the end, where they had coffee. Thank God. I filled a Styrofoam cup full of black coffee. It smelled wonderful.

  We found an empty table to sit at, near the back and we ate breakfast swiftly. There wasn’t much to it.

  “I wasn’t expecting a complimentary hotel breakfast. But, that was still disappointing,” Drew said.

  The kids were eating just fine and seemed to be oblivious to the camp surroundings. Jane dropped some eggs on the floor, and Natalie began laughing.

  “She dropped her eggs,” Natalie said in between giggles. Jane turned and punched her sister on the arm. “Hey!”

  “Stop that. Jane. Here have some of mine,” Alicia said while spooning out some eggs onto her daughter’s plate.

  “You want the rest of mine?” Drew said.

  “No. Not that hungry.”

  “Me neither,” he said and then stuffed a fork full of eggs into his mouth.

  The food wasn’t good. But, I expected nothing else. I remember the quality of food at the camp in Syria and this was much better. Not good. Better.

  “So, what do we think?” Ethan asked.

  I leaned forward resting my elbows on the table and said, “I will say this. When I told you that story about the refugee camp, I was stationed at.” I paused and looked around, “Well, this place is the Ritz compared to that camp.”

  “Really?” Jenna asked.

  “Yes. But, I don’t think it changes much of what I said and the reason I didn’t want to come here. Look around. What do you see?”

  They all did as I asked. Jenna was staring at the showers, Kaitlyn back at the food. The others working their heads around in a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree motion.

  “Not much,” Ethan said.

  “I see the Red Cross and FEMA,” Jenna said.

  “That’s all good right?” Kaitlyn asked

  “Yes. For now. But, there are probably a hundred thousand scared, cold and tired people in a what?” I looked to my left. Then back to the right. “Three-mile area. That’s crazy.”

  I must’ve had a look of awe on my face because Alicia said, “It is pretty remarkable. How they built this whole area in... a week?” It had been seven days since I saw the mushroom cloud in that moonlit sky.

  “It really is, and it’s far more organized than I anticipated,” Drew said to his wife.

  “Yes. And for now, we just need to go with the program,” I said.

  “Are there any other options?” Ethan asked.

  “No. Definitely not. But, it doesn’t mean we should be content. I think we should try to find people to talk to, if we can, to get any info on the situation here. Cause the longer we are here, and the less we are told, I think the worse it will get.”

  “You’re always so positive,” Ethan said.

  “I am just trying to look out for our best interest.” I couldn’t help being pessimistic after all I’ve seen and experienced, I am sure they would have been the same.

  A few hours later I announced to everyone that I wanted to take a walk around the perimeter of the whole encampment and I asked if anyone wanted to join me. Jane and Natalie had my Hobbit book, which I stowed away in my suitcase and were, again, having Alicia read it to them. I also brought my Lord Of The Rings hardcover, just in case they wanted to know more. They pulled a cot outside to soak in the sun, that had finally broken through the clouds just after breakfast. Most of us were either sitting around in the dirt listening or in the tent napping. Or still asleep like Zero. Jenna had returned from using the porta-potty twenty minutes earlier.

  “It was disgusting,
as expected. Thank god, we brought our own toilet paper. One guy even offered me one hundred dollars for it as I was leaving,” she said with a bemused smile. But, this caught my attention.

  “You probably shouldn’t go alone again. We should go everywhere in pairs, and try to keep the toilet paper hidden,” I said. Jenna’s smile evaporated. I hated being that guy. The Doomsayer. But, damn, if my friends didn’t need a little education on prison etiquette.

  Now I was stuck, I couldn’t walk the perimeter alone because I insisted we needed to go everywhere in pairs. When I announced my intentions, I wasn’t expecting everyone’s hands to raise but thought I would get at least one interested party. Instead, I got silence.

  “One of you?” I said. “We may miss lunch, but aren’t any of you curious about the rest of the camp?” Alicia’s hand rose, with one hand still on The Hobbit.

  “No,” Jane cried.

  “You have to read to us,” Natalie said.

  “You two can read on your own. You’re just being lazy having me read it to you,” she said as she stood up and placed the book in Natalie’s hands. “And if you don’t understand a word, just ask your dad.”

  “You sure about this, you may miss lunch?” Drew asked. Our lunch was scheduled between 1:00 p.m. and 1:15 p.m.

  “After breakfast this morning, I am sure I won’t mind,” she said and then kissed Drew on the cheek.

  Alicia and I walked in silence toward the fence to the north of us. We journeyed past two more rows of section CD. Then all of section CC. The sections appeared to be lettered in a snake fashion. We walked along the main path which ran through linked sections north to south, connecting the mess halls. As we reached the fence we could see the cars, in their dirt parking lot, spread out evenly and orderly throughout the desert. We turned west, the opposite direction from the main entrance, walking along a car-width dirt road that ran just inside the fence, like a warning track in the outfield of a baseball stadium. Every now and then we had to move off the road as a truck passed.

  We hit the western fence and headed south. This area of the camp did not seem to be as populated as the others. Probably, the last few sections left for occupation. To the west, we could see the desert and its vegetation that was rudely destroyed in creating our new campground. A brown and green landscape, littered with small plants, tumbleweeds, shrubs, and rocks.

  Alicia said little up to this point. But, I would catch her looking right and left, just observing the different areas as we passed, her red hair sparkling in the sun.

  “I count twenty rows of tents in each section,” she said.

  “Yeah, that’s what I got. Twenty rows of ten tents each. Two hundred tents. Five people in each one. One thousand people per section.”

  “That’s sounds right. And these would be the last sections and…” She looked to her left at a row of tents. “Section C.V. was the highest lettered section... so that means what... a hundred sections?”

  I nodded an affirmative. “Over a hundred thousand people could be housed here.”

  “Crazy,” she said. “I know that’s what you said the number could be, but to have it confirmed, is something else.”

  We kept walking. The sun shined bright, warm. And I began to sweat, wearing all black as I was.

  “You guys think I’m a bitch, don’t you?” she said as she inclined her head to look at me.

  I stopped and said, “We never thought that.”

  “Don’t lie. I was at first when Drew and I met. I can admit it. I was jealous of you guys, and I wanted him all to myself.”

  “I always thought you seemed right for him.”

  “Thanks.

  “The few times I met you, it seemed like you were keeping an eye out for him.”

  She laughed. “Yeah. Well, when your husband, never invites you out with him and his friends. And then when he does. You end up just drinking by yourself. It can get awkward.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “You know I wanted to go to your party. But, we couldn’t find a sitter.”

  “Drew didn’t mention that. He just said you were home with the kids.”

  “See. That’s what I mean. I wonder if I always come across like the wife who won’t let her husband do anything,” she said, and I must admit that’s how I felt when I did see Drew. “But, and I am gonna let you in on a little secret. Drew was the one who did not want to go out anymore. He knows he can’t hold his liquor.” She laughed. “Once I caught him texting with Zero, blaming me for not going out with him, to some bar. I almost knocked the phone out of his hand, I was so pissed. But, then he told me that he couldn’t tell his oldest friends he didn’t want to hang out. So, I became his excuse.”

  “I was surprised to see him at my party.”

  “You’re crazy. He wasn’t gonna miss it for the world. He had been so excited to see you. I know you talked or texted a few times since you returned, but he wanted to see you. And I did too. I am glad he went. Because if he didn’t, I don’t know where we would be right now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If he didn’t go to your party, I am not sure we would’ve gone to your house after we tried the freeways to get out of town. You were on our minds. Without the party...”

  “You probably would’ve ended up right here,” I said, and she laughed.

  “Probably... I’ve always liked you, Blake. Your one of the few friends of his that I actually admired.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Now, Zero on the other hand,” she said and laughed.

  We continued our small talk and I, after all these years, finally got to know Alicia.

  “I am afraid, everyone is looking at me like the Worry Wart. Always on everyone’s case. But, with Jane and Natalie, I kind of default to that state of mind,” she said, changing the subject.

  “Well, I am the Doomsayer.”

  “The Doomsayer and the Worry Wart. Sounds like a good team to me.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “Maybe we can keep these idiots alive, for a little while longer,” she said, followed by another laugh.

  By now we had reached the southern border and headed back east. Section CM was empty, except for a few tents right next to the dining area, where we saw a man sitting on a cot playing with his infant son.

  The chain-link fence was constructed the same throughout the camp. Every one hundred yards a light. Every five hundred yards a small gate that lead to the road that wrapped around the entirety of the camp. At the camp in Syria, there was barbed wire at the top of a twelve-foot fence. Here, it was an eight-foot fence with no barbed wire.

  “Do you think you could climb the fence?” I asked Alicia

  “Why? We making a run for it?” Alicia said.

  “Just curious.”

  “Yeah. I don’t see it being a problem.”

  “That’s what I thought. So. Why have a fence at all?”

  “To keep everything organized and contained. So we have to have our neat I.D. cards.”

  “Yeah. I guess so.”

  To our left, we saw two FEMA volunteers, walking toward us. We may have been staring at the fence for too long. I grabbed Alicia by the arm, and we began walking again. As they approached, they stopped us.

  “You two out for a walk?” A young male, with blonde hair and a Southern California tan, asked us. His companion wearing the same FEMA uniform was a young African-American girl and a foot taller than all of us.

  “Yes, just checking out the camp,” Alicia said.

  “Good. Just be careful walking on the road. Stay to the inside. A lot of vehicles use the outer road to transport supplies.”

  We made a move to continue walking, and I said, “Thanks and we will.”

  “Have a nice day,” The young man said.

  As we continued to head East, the more crowded the camp became. More and more desperate looking people were also walking along the path. An old man with a cane and a small dog nodded to us as we passed. The rest just walked by wit
h eyes down, headed to who knows where.

  We finally reached the center lane where the line up of trailers ran north to south and saw hundreds of the FEMA volunteers.

  “That must be the housing for all the FEMA people,” Alicia said. I nodded in agreement.

  In section AX, we saw our first act of violence. Two young men were arguing when one of the men sucker-punched the other. They both flew into the desert dirt wrestling. Their friends and significant others tried to pull them apart. Alicia and I stopped to watch the melee.

  Not fifteen seconds after the fight began, we saw FEMA volunteers descend on the area, in golf carts. They ordered one of the men to stop, as he was on top pummeling the smaller man on the ground. As he rose to throw another punch, one of the female FEMA officers shot him, with what looked like a taser gun. A type I had never seen before. It appeared to emit the electricity in a precise wave and knocked the guy flat. At first, I thought it may be some sort of sonic gun, but when the man hit the ground, he began convulsing.

  “Whoa,” Alicia said next to me. A crowd began to gather around as two of the FEMA officers grabbed the man on the ground and rolled him over, zip-tying his hands together. Two other FEMA personnel turned the man over that took the beating and zip-tied him as well.

  “Hey. He didn’t do nothing,” said a woman who broke apart from the crowd, pointing at the beaten man. She then pointed to the aggressor. “That guy. He was trying to steal from our tent. My husband just tried to stop him,” the wife continued, right in the face of a FEMA officer who put a hand up for her to back away. “Please. He didn’t do anything.”

  More FEMA officers showed up. One began to administer first aid to the beaten man, but they did not undo his binds. The woman tried to get to her husband but was pushed back.