by G. P. Moss
Opening the door, Sister Angelica beams a wide smile, quietly ushering us in to the controlled busyness of the Sisters’ lives. This centre of healing and kindness, gratitude, and humility, is at once calm and serious, as the purification of the town’s water supplies continues day and night, bringing nourishment and renewal for a brighter future.
Sister Agnes takes me to the door of the sanctum as Sister Evie tries to locate Anne. Knocking lightly at the door to a secret that helped change all our lives, I’m then left alone as I hear the clear but quiet invitation to enter. Sister Theresa immediately rises from her chair to greet me, surprising me with a quick hug. Releasing her frail body, she steps back, appraising me with a wide smile, her eyes shining so brightly they reflect my own.
“Welcome back. We missed you. I missed you. And, I believe, so has someone else.”
The senior Sister brings me up to date on developments since I left.
“It has been far better than I could have hoped for. We have been around the whole town, gauging the mood and selecting likely candidates for restructuring the place - people who are taking charge of meeting basic needs, others who are assessing the damage and what can be achieved straight away to make things more comfortable. You would be amazed at what we found at Donny Ray’s house and all the other places his men owned. Huge amounts of valuables - jewellery, gold bars even and of course a lot of banknotes - worthless now, I would have thought but we’ll keep hold of everything here until we can either find legitimate owners or redistribute in the future when collateral will be needed. We can preach and beg and show evidence of the ultimate excess of greed but human nature being as it is, we will never have a utopian society. I can hope and pray though that we can feel the pain long enough to know a much different route is needed in the future. I believe we will.”
Without wishing to dampen the wise words and optimism of the Sister, I ask if there’s been any trouble since the dissolution of Donny Ray’s empire.
“There has been none,” she says brightly. “Of course, I am not naive enough to think there are none of his supporters left but they will be keeping very quiet. Besides, I know who they are. Nobody will be persecuted and I am sure, with time, they shall see the error of their ways now there will be no advantages for collaboration with people that no longer exist.”
I smile at her natural, easy logic but I know that underneath, there’s a mind sharper than my Samurai sword.
“I know you will want to see Alex,” Sister Theresa continues. “He has gone over to the south-west corner to see about having the tunnel filled in - where they were letting the Subs out. He cannot go down there yet because of his shoulder but Anne is quite capable of assessing things. I know of their plans and I approve, not that they require my approval of course,” she adds, laughing.
“Once there is no longer the will or something else pulls so strongly at the heart, fighting it forever can only bring unhappiness. I know she has not taken the decision lightly and I do not believe that Sister Maria will object - I knew her a long time ago - strict but kind is how I remember her.”
“Yes, she taught me a great deal when we had very little time. You and her,” I say respectfully, “are wonderful teachers in the healing arts.”
“There is no real magic in it, just unbridled kindness and gratitude from the depths of the soul. Well,” she adds, winking, “a little bit of magic maybe. The water knows, you see. It is the source of life and it gives so much, asking for so little in return. When we not only disrespect it, showing ingratitude and contempt for its gifts, it eventually bites back - like we all would, I imagine. Yes, even me,” she says, smiling. “Dark water was inevitable given the extent of our push for more natural resources. While the icecaps began to melt, still we drilled and drilled - not just in the vast uninhabited areas but on farmland, near houses, on the edge of towns. We pushed the envelope until this happened.”
Sweeping her arm across the room, she’s referring to the broken roads and buildings, smashed infrastructure, and general mess, eerily signified by the mass graveyard of exploded wells, laying on their sides, pushed up and over by forces greater than anyone could ever have appreciated.
Giving Rags a look that says, ‘I’ll be back but I have to do this’, I leave him with the young Sister who cared for him during the battle of Longton.
*
I politely decline Sister Theresa’s kind offer to send one of the Sisters to accompany me to the south-west edge. Remembering a short time ago, when I walked here under an oppressing night sky, black as the hearts of the people we were bringing down, I relish the opportunity now to walk in the bright sunshine, a canopy of gently shifting shades of light blue playing host to the occasional, slow moving white cloud.
Passing the courthouse where Alex was shot, I recall the bravery of everyone that night and of the pressure we unwittingly placed on new friends with no experience at all of combat. Those beautifully brilliant people, like Sisters Cristina and Margaret, not only supported our crucial mission but actively advanced it, giving us precious diversions so we could enter the building and save Will and Michael.
People I’ve never met, smile and wave as I pass. I’ll miss them – I never had this kind of community while I was growing up. Like many I suppose, we did what we had to do to survive and grow without the real freedom to just step back and live in the moment without fear of the next attack.
Chapter Forty-Three
I see Alex as he waits for Anne to reappear. His arm in a sling once again, it’s a sight I’ve grown accustomed to and I smile, not for his discomfort but the look on his face, of an unwilling victim of unfortunate circumstance. He’s lucky to be alive and I’m so happy he is. I am. The chin stubble I’m used to seeing on him is now turning into a full-grown beard, streaks of grey giving him an older look. Older, but great. The handsome soldier, waiting for his gorgeous lady.
Waving with his good arm, his obvious delight in seeing me warms my heart to its core – Mum knew that finding Alex would be the best thing for me – finding myself came as a wonderful, unexpected bonus.
As we wait for Anne, I tell him about my travels, excitedly explaining the changes in the valley and in Johnny.
“Ah, so the crazy guy’s finally going to settle down, you think?” he says with affection for his old comrade.
“I know it,” I reply. I tell him who the lady is, explaining that Helen is Storm’s mum.
“Well,” Alex says, “he may look a little mad to anyone who doesn’t know him but his heart’s in the right place. And, he’s loyal.”
“I know. He always made sure Mum and I were put first. Always.”
“He is a great friend of your dad’s too.”
I note how he uses the present, not the past tense. It makes me happy. It does. As Anne emerges, dusty streaks in her hair and on her face, she embraces me, holding me tight. I really miss being held like that and despite myself, I allow a small tear to cloud my vision.
“I’ll be going on to Eastsea,” I say, “so if you’d like the company, whenever Alex is up for travel, I’d love to come back with you so I can see Sister Maria.”
“I need to see her as well,” she says, laughing.
“I know, and I’m so happy for the both of you.”
To me, they’re a perfect couple and I know that in Eastsea, the pair of them will achieve great things.
“I have to do something first but I’ll catch up with you later,” I tell them. They look at me with love in their eyes, smiling as I leave them.
My heart steps up several beats as I walk along the western boundary, heading to a battered old stone house for an unscheduled meeting with destiny. Peering through the plastic windows, I can’t see anything except odd bits of clothing laying around. As I go to knock on the front door, I can hear a light banging noise coming from the back of the house.
An old, rusted tractor, red paint peeled back to corroded metal, stands on a small piece of land slowly turning from hues of brown to green. A sh
irtless young man kneels on the ground, busying himself with something, his slim frame widening at the upper back and shoulders. I can’t help but gasp as I know it’s the exact shape of the man in my dreams.
Hearing me, he turns, and with a huge smile, drops the piece of equipment, runs to me, lifting me off the ground and spinning me around until I beg him to stop for fear of collapsing with laughter. I do collapse, into his arms.
“I said I’d come back,” I say, smiling as I gaze into his bright, glossy eyes. Looking behind him, I ask what he’s working on.
“Oh, that,” he says, grinning. “The carburettor for the tractor. I know, a hopeless cause but, well, you never know.”
“Speaking of hopeless causes,” I say, shyly now – “would you consider coming with me to help me build a house somewhere by the sea? Or, a river. Or both?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he says, spinning me around again.
“And I thought it was the man who was supposed to ask these questions.” I’m teasing him. His reply is serious but full of the love I never dreamed I’d experience.
“It’s a different world now, Mercy. And you, my love, are one of the drivers of its future.”
“Well, actually, I’d rather just have a quiet life now if that’s okay.”
***
Sister Theresa blesses us in the convent as Will becomes my husband. Sister Angelina made me a beautiful dress, from fine, white cotton. Light cream satin pumps complete the look. Will looks handsome in a plain navy blue suit, with a thick, rich, cream shirt – donated from grateful residents, squirrelled away many years past.
A wonderful silk tie hangs straight and true, making him the smartest man I ever saw. I ask him about the small symbol on the blue and green diagonal stripes.
“It’s your dad’s regiment – Alex gave it to me.”
Raising my head to kiss my man, I’m happier than I could ever imagine.
Epilogue
Standing in the cave, I bow my head, silently giving thanks to my fallen friend, for her courage, loyalty, and devotion. We’re a small but significant group, sharing our gratitude for the part she played in our transformations. Holly and Michael, Will and I, Alex, Anne, and of course Johnny and Helen. Rags sits quietly next to me.
As we leave the final resting place of Storm, and Carrie, I place my hands over my stomach, wishing I could feel a life there, that could move to the gentle rhythm of the whispering waves, resisting the pull of the outgoing tide. On the horizon, a small cluster of boats makes its way to destinations known only to its navigators.
We look to the sea in awe.
“Come this way,” I whisper. “Come this way.”