“You know what I meant!” My eyes go wide and embarrassment sets in again.
“Of course I know.” She pushes my shoulder, nearly knocking me from the top step at the kitchen door. “Six days.”
“We should probably get some more sleep,” I suggest.
“Yeah.” She hesitates but stands up and shakes off her clothing as much as possible before heading inside.
A few moments pass and the swinging door comes to a rest. Checking over my shoulder to make sure she is not there I take off my shirt and pants, shaking them heartily to get as much sand out as possible. Standing outside in my undershorts feels strange and, after shaking the clothes for a few moments, I put them back on in a hurry incase Ami decides to come back.
When she does not reappear, I pick up my shoes and tread softly, sneaking a glass of water before heading back to the living room. Instead of heading upstairs though, where I imagine the heat is still lingering, I plop down on the cool couch and close my eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Get up you lazy swine,” Evalyn barks at me. “It’s already mid-day.”
“What is there to do but sit around and sweat and wait for this month to be over?” I retort, seeing how agitated she is already.
“You’re going to collect some water from the well and store it in some jugs,” she directs forcefully.
I wipe a large amount of sweat from my forehead and stand up, finding my body sore from the excursion last night, but I hide my discomfort from her for fear of her questioning me.
“So what are you waiting for?” she snaps. “Start hauling water around back where Ami is setting up a filter.”
Shifting from one leg to another I find that I got more sand in my clothes last night than I had thought and the skin between my legs is irritated. Chafing against my skin, I fight against scratching and move to head upstairs to change.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she demands.
“To change. I have sand in my undergarments from yesterday,” I sigh at her.
I leap up the stairs, two at a time thinking that getting there faster would be better, but the grit tears at my skin even more. Slamming my door I throw off all of my clothes and sand trickles out. I dust off, but due to my sweat I find that it’s difficult. After getting most of it off, I throw on new undershorts and shake the new protective clothes out again before putting them on.
Finished getting dressed, I make my way outside to the well, keeping my raw legs spread as far apart as I can to avoid any more irritation. The wooden cover has a mound of sand on it and the only way to remove the lid without getting it inside is to dig into the sand again. Scooping with my hands, I fling it away from me until I can lift the lid enough to dump the rest of the sand off the side.
Though the sun is scorching overhead, the white hood covering me with its protruding brim over my head offers protection from the direct light. Hauling the first bucket up with the hand crank, I find myself confused as to why we are not using the faucet out back to filter and stock up on water, but decide to let it go. When the bucket reaches me, I notice that a fair amount of sand made it into the bucket before I was able to get the cover on, but not wanting to waste anything, I take it anyway.
Unlatching the wooden bucket from its hook, I move around the house, trying to hide in what little shade is being provided, but a large pile of sand has gathered against the siding and I am forced out into the sun. Though the hot, dry air causes my lungs to burn, I find that the clothing does its job effectively otherwise.
As I reach the other side of the yard, Ami is standing next to a strange rigging setup. Four poles are planted in the ground just beyond the empty clothing lines. Draped across the poles is a cloth with a layer of sand across the top and underneath is the washbasin.
“Why are we using the basin?” I ask Ami as I get there.
“It’s the only thing large enough to accommodate what we’re doing.”
“Isn’t it dirty?”
“I’m going to wash it out with the first bucket of water and then the rest will get saved.” She smiles at me triumphantly.
“Is it ready? There seems to be sand in the middle of the cloth.” I tilt my head slightly to the side.
“I found an old survival book we had stored away. It had a method to filter water with sand that will help reduce bacteria in the end product. Then we boil it.”
“Why can’t we just run the faucet in the kitchen and bring the water to the store room downstairs?”
“If we run the water too much we risk sand getting sucked into the pumps and then we’d be in bigger trouble. Though the well was covered for most of the storm, we decided to take a safety precaution.”
“Time is wasting!” Evalyn bursts out the kitchen door behind me. “Why are you standing around talking?”
“Sorry Evalyn.” I shoot her a sideways glance. “Ami was just teaching me about the method we’re using for purification.”
“Well hurry up with it, I’m in here waiting to boil and store and you two are holding me up!”
I smile at Ami out of Evalyn’s sight and dump the bucket of water as close to the middle as I can. As it filters through I watch it start off like a waterfall from the underside and trickle off. Heading back for another bucket, the moment I am around the corner, I overhear Evalyn scolding Ami.
“You need to get your head out of the clouds. Stop flirting with him and focus instead on staying alive,” she barks.
Though she was talking directly to Ami, I know she intended for me to hear it because it came out as soon as I was around the corner. Though we were just scolded, I think about Ami flirting with me.
I may not remember any relationships from the past, but it does feel like this is the closest I have been to a girl before. Could the same be true for Ami since she’s been in this vortex most of her life?
Back and forth from the well, I haul buckets. After Ami has cleaned out the wash basin of dirt and soap residue, the real filtering begins and each time I dump a bucket, I watch for a few moments as the delicious water trickles down. Feeling parched I find myself resisting drinking from the bucket or the basin, instead forging ahead toward dumping that next bucket of water. Eventually I drain the well enough that the bucket hits bottom and the basin is quite full, but without Ami, Agatha or Evalyn around I wonder what I should do next.
Famished, I return the bucket to the well and place the cover back on, securing the latches so that I can head inside. Upon entry to the house I kick my shoes off and dump them outside the living room door, making sure to get whatever sand I encountered out. With my shoes placed by the closed door, I head into the kitchen and find the table already set with a plate with a meaty looking sandwich and glass of juice. Upon closer inspection, I find there is a piece of paper with my name on it and I find it likely that Ami had anticipated my needs.
After finishing the delicious roast beef sandwich and downing the glass of apple juice I lean back in my chair, satisfied for the time being. With every last crumb on the plate devoured I set my dishes next to the pile gathering in the sink and when I look out the window Ami has reappeared outside with several jugs that she is scooping cups of water into. Staring, I find it safe to admire her from here without fear of reproach.
“Rain?” Agatha speaks next to me and I nearly jump out of my skin.
“Oh! Agatha! How long have you been standing there?” I ask, completely flustered.
“How long have you?” I see her playful grin.
“I was just, uh,” I have no adequate explanation so I move on. “I filled the tub with all the water I could get from the well.”
“Okay. Ami’s going to bring the water in and boil it. Would you help me check on the panels again?” she asks.
“Of course.” I open the door for her and allow her to exit first.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lying with my head at the foot of the bed, I watch the light disappear outside my
open window as the sun sets on the other side of the house.
The few days we have been here have come and gone, slowly and agonizingly. Though we keep ourselves busy surviving this dangerous desert, it has already begun to drain our sanity, as our choices to keep cool are limited and needing to cook most of our food to eat exacerbates the issue. With water rationed and my shower still days away, I think of cold things to keep my mind from the heat, but I find it unbearable and tear off my clothes down to my undershorts and return my head to the pillow.
Though I have been thrust into bizarre situations since the attack and my amnesia, I seem to thrive in it. I like it. Whoever I was before must have been adventurous also, as I cannot see myself really settling down to a calm life. Have I traveled the world? How much have these eyes actually seen?
Drifting in and out while watching the horizon become dark grey and then black, I find myself in a state between asleep and awake where I know that I am in neither place. But I find myself less aware of my surroundings than I had thought when a whisper tickles my ear and causes me to swing my arms wildly.
“Hey! Shh, calm down,” Ami whispers frantically.
“What is wrong?” My eyes spring open, my voice in a normal tone.
“Other than you about to hit me? Nothing,” she whispers again.
“Sorry, it was a reflex.” I realize that she is whispering for a reason and copy her.
“I created some attachments for our shoes so we can walk on the sand easier!”
“We’re going out tonight?”
“Of course. The explosion means that there are other people out here.” Her whisper becomes excited. “While explosions are generally a bad thing, it could have been an accident. I want to see if we can make contact with the inhabitants of this time.”
“What if the explosion was intentional?” I ask her. “And how will we get back?”
“We’ll keep our distance until we scope them out. I have some binoculars. And for getting back, it shouldn’t be hard to follow our footprints back with the attachments I made!”
“You have an answer for everything don’t you?” I turn my head and grin at her.
She leans closely to my face, grinning from ear to ear and I have my answer. With her there, hovering so near, I stay hesitantly still as it looks like she might lean in to kiss me. Instead, she grabs my hand and yanks me out of bed and the blanket I didn’t know I had pulled over me, falls off. She squeals while covering her mouth and turning around. Puzzled I look down and remember that I am in my undershorts.
“I’m sorry!” I see her shaking her head while covering her face.
“It is all right. Just don’t turn around!” I scramble to grab my clothes and jump into them.
Once I am dressed, I find an opportunity to play a trick on her and I tiptoe over to her. I position my hands near her sides and then poke her, causing her to let out another squeal, this one muffled because her hands are already over her face. She spins around and drops her hands.
“Ready to go?” I smile.
“Not funny! If we’re caught, our trip is over!”
“Well then you and I could just stay here together.” I smile, playing with her.
“I…uh…what are you…what do you mean?” She puts her hands back up to her cheeks and looks down.
“Are you blushing?” I poke at her arm.
“No…I…” She looks back up at me.
“Come on, we better get moving if we are going to find those people.” I wink at her.
“You!” She proceeds to hit me, but it only comes out as a tap.
She enters her sewing room and returns with some objects I cannot identify in the dark, before moving down the stairs. I wait until she is at the bottom before I follow and, taking one step at a time I minimize the creaking of the floorboards. Once we find our way outside she talks normally.
“These are binoculars.” She hands me a small object that has two round cylindrical pieces attached to each other and fits into the palm of my hand. “And these are the special shoe fittings that should allow us to walk more steadily on the sand.”
She lines up four circular objects with a weaving pattern that crisscrosses and makes a hatch pattern through the middle. Handing her back the binoculars I pick one of the attachments up and examine it closely.
“Oh. How did you make these?”
“I cut the handles off some old rackets we had and added some strapping to hold them onto our feet.” She’s proud of herself.
“But, these are full of holes. How is this going to support us?”
“You’ll see. Just put the back strap on the inside of your shoe under your foot and the front strap on the outside.”
I take off my shoes and do as she says by slipping the back straps inside my shoes and strap the front part of my shoes down with the front ones. With my shoes back on I attempt to walk, but find that they are so awkward and bulky, I trip. She giggles from behind me as I waddle around, nearly knocking myself against a clothesline. Ready to go, she waddles too, headed toward that hill beyond our yard.
When we reach the edge of the property the shifting sand that leads to our mountain waits for us to attempt to conquer it again. I take a step out onto it, then another and I find that surprisingly, while there is still some give, I don’t feel like I am going to fall over like last time. Walking awkwardly toward the hill we quickly find ourselves working our way up the incline but with much less effort than before. At the top once more, we scan the horizon and she is quick to point out that same faint orange glow off in the distance, in a slightly different area. Ami puts the binoculars up to her eyes and stares for a moment before breaking the silence.
“I can’t see anything from here,” she says while putting her arm through a strap on the binoculars. “Let’s walk a bit and see if we can get any sightings.”
“Are you sure about this?” I put my hand on her shoulder. “I don’t want to get lost in the desert and be out here in the daytime.”
“You worry too much. We’ll be fine,” she says soothingly.
She takes me by the hand and we walk a good distance along this sandy plain. I feel apprehensive, but she’s insistent and I seem to be weak to resist her desires.
Reaching a dip into a valley she boldly leads us down it and there comes a point that the orange glow disappears from our vision. Crossing the small valley and back up to another plain causes it to reappear. I look behind us and by the light of the nearly full moon, I can see our tracks faintly in the sand.
“We are going in a straight line right?” I ask nervously. “So we should be able to turn around and head back the way we came?”
“Of course.” She squeezes my hand reassuringly.
After walking for an unknown amount of time we find ourselves nearing the orange glow along the horizon and I think there is movement within it. Ami grabs me and pulls us over to a small mound of sand, then throws us both down so we are lying flat on our stomachs. Putting the binoculars to her eyes she studies the orange glow intently.
“There are people there!” she whispers excitedly.
“What are they doing?”
“I can see that they’re moving about, but not what they’re doing. There are tents and several fires though.”
“Should we attempt to make contact?”
“We should wait and observe more. Here, take a look,” she hands me the binoculars.
Pressing them up to my eyes, I try and see through them, but it causes my eyes to hurt for a moment while they forcibly readjust to the glass inside. I use them to look around a few moments and get my bearings before focusing on the orange glow. When I do, I can see the inhabitants of the area milling about. Their movement patterns suggest there is purpose, but they could be just going about their daily routines.
“Let me see again,” Ami taps my shoulder.
I hand her the binoculars and only a few moments after she puts them to her eyes again, she is tugging on my arm and standing up.
�
�We have to get closer to learn about them,” she whispers.
“What?” I almost yell out, but catch myself and whisper instead.
“I’m interested! Let’s go!” She is already up, but crouching while moving forward.
Unable to sit idly by and watch, I follow after her, crouching and waddling. Though I may have some physical prowess I am leery of creeping up on a camp full of people. Several hundred yards pass quickly and she drops to her belly on the flat sand with the binoculars pressed to her eyes. I lie next to her and after only a few moments she breaks the silence.
“They look like they’ve been through a war,” she whispers.
“How can you tell?” I ask.
“Their clothes and tents are tattered and from what I can tell they’re really skinny,” she whispers.
“I cannot imagine that it is easy living out in the desert like this. I bet the house would be paradise to these people.” I frown, even though she cannot see it.
“Oh no! You’re right!” I can feel the weight of the situation fall on her as she whispers intensely. “If they are raiders we could be in big trouble. Our tracks lead right back to it!”
“See! This was a bad idea!”
“We need to cover the tracks!”
Ami and I stand up and we begin to backtrack with swiftness. While she stays ahead of me, I do what I can to smear our checkered footprints and that orange glow sits in my vision as a beacon of angst.
A hundred yards away from where we laid down to observe is not far enough, as a voice rings out and it is not one of ours.
Unintelligible due to the distance between us and the camp, I continue to try and erase the tracks but a noise fills the air like thunder cracking despite there not being a single cloud in the sky. Ami pulls me urgently by the arm and we begin to run as quickly as we can with these attachments on our feet. Nearly making it back to the valley, we are cut off. My fears are realized as a group of shadowy figures overtake and surround us.
“Halt!” There is a clicking noise that comes from behind me that accompanies the voice.
Ready to take a defensive stance, I rip my arm from Ami and begin to spin around to swing but Ami stops me, yelling out.
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