Paradise

by Michael R. Watson

  There was an uncomfortable moment of silence.

  “How tolerant are you?” I asked, breaking the silence. I knew my own shortcomings and knew from time to time I was likely to slip and step outside the rules, even though it would probably be unintentional.

  Before Samuel could answer, Gary, who had been sitting still and quiet all this time, spoke up, “You mean to say if anyone breaks your rules they are asked to leave?”

  “They’re not my rules. But, to answer John’s question, we are a tolerant people. No one is perfect and mistakes will be made. To paraphrase the scriptures, no man is without sin. For the infrequent indiscretion, forgiveness is the first choice. However, if the act is committed repeatedly, without any sign of remorse, the person will be asked to leave. The saying that one rotten apple spoils the entire barrel is an old one, but an accurate one. We’d like to keep that very thing from happening here.”

  Emma entered the room followed by two other women. They were carrying bowls, a cast iron pot, fresh bread in a basket, and a pitcher of water with glasses.

  “Looks like your meal is here,” commented Samuel. “We’ll leave you so you can eat and talk freely. We’ll be back in a little while to show you where you will be sleeping tonight. Enjoy. Emma is an excellent cook.” Her cheeks blushed a bright red from the compliment.

  The food had been left on the table. I lifted the lid on the pot to see a stew with an aroma that made my mouth begin to water. At that moment I realized how famished I really was. A smile even came to Dan’s face. If it tasted only half as good as it smelled, it would be the best thing I’d ever put in my mouth. We each grabbed a bowl and dug in. With the fresh bread the ladies had brought and what I assumed was freshly churned butter, it was a meal fit for a king. The stew had chunks of potato, carrot, tomato, and some sort of meat. We believed it was beef, but we couldn’t be sure. It had been years since any of us had had any kind of real meat.

  Soon after arrival at Sector 4, supplies had begun to diminish as demand grew, with rationing quickly excluded meat of any kind. But, according to rumors, beef, pork, and chicken were still going to the rich, the only ones who could afford the governor’s prices.

  There was silence around the table as we all dug in to the best meal any of us had had since arriving at Sector 4. When we asked Paul about the availability of meat in his former life, he didn’t seem to want to talk about it. By some of the items we’d seen in his bag, we had presumed he had been one of the privileged back there and probably had access to such things. We didn’t push the issue. Perhaps he didn’t want to come across as a braggart.

  No one seemed anxious to be the first to start a discussion about our current circumstance, but some things needed to be discussed before Samuel returned.

  I decided to break the ice. “We came here as a group, but I think each of us should make up their own mind on whether to stay or go. I for one am glad to be here and I think I can live with their rules. So, I’m willing to give this place a chance. Besides, the alternative isn’t very appealing.”

  “I think you already know how I feel,” said Paul. “I’m staying.”

  “Me too,” said Jill.

  “And me,” said Gary. “I don’t see an option. I’m not willing to head across country into the same wasteland we were just rescued from and just hope for another place like this.”

  “I’d like to keep an open mind though,” I added. “If another opportunity presents itself, I’m not opposed to looking at it. How about you, Dan?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. I don’t like the idea of having to live by their rules or being told what I can and can’t do.”

  “From what I can see, it’s still better than where we just came from,” I offered. “And I know for a fact you were told what to do there too.” I hadn’t known Dan very long, but I could make an educated guess that he had been a complainer back at his hometown as well, never satisfied. And nothing I said was going to change that. His attitude would most likely be the same no matter where he was, whether there were rules to follow or not. He would most likely always find something wrong.

  Samuel entered the room. “If you’ve finished with your meal, I’ll show you to where you’ll be sleeping. I’m sure you’re all tired. We can talk further in the morning. Please follow me.” He picked up one of the lanterns.

  We were led to a closed door at the rear of the room. Samuel opened it, revealing a rustic staircase leading upstairs. The procession of shoes and boots on the wooden stairs created a series of loud clunking hollow sounds as we climbed to the next floor. At the top of the stairs Samuel opened another door revealing a large open room with two rows of cots. It wasn’t exactly what we had been expecting, but it was still a vast improvement from sleeping outside on the ground.

  “Hope you all have a restful sleep and I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast,” said Samuel, setting the lantern on a small table. He turned and left, closing the door behind him, followed by the sound of the door being locked from the outside.

  We all exchanged looks of surprise at the unexpected act.

  Dan rushed to the door and pulled hard on the handle, but it refused to budge. We looked around the room, noticing for the first time there weren’t any windows here either.

  “I knew this was going to happen!” Dan yelled, anger in his voice. “Now we’re trapped! I knew something like this was going to happen!” he repeated.

  Whatever Samuel’s reasons had been, we weren’t going anywhere until morning.

  “Calm down,” I said, sitting on the edge of a cot.

  “Don’t tell me to calm down!”

  “You’re alive aren’t you?” I stated.

  “But for how long? I don’t like it!” yelled Dan with no sign of calming down. He began to pace back and forth in front of the door, like a caged wild animal.

  “Dan, I think we’re safe,” said Jill. “We were just given a fabulous meal. Why would they do that if we were in danger? For one, I’m ready for a good nights sleep.”

  Dan didn’t bother to respond or even look at her, continuing to pace, still agitated.

  “I’m with Jill,” agreed Gary. “Besides, there doesn’t appear to be any other way out of this room.”

  “Tomorrow, we can find out why we were locked in,” I said. “But I have a feeling it wasn’t as much a trap for us as it was for their protection. We’re the strangers here. They don’t know if they can trust us and we don’t know if we can trust them. Look at it another way, Dan, if it’ll make you feel any better, they’re locked out.”

  Paul gave a chuckle.

  Everyone but Dan had picked out a cot and had laid down.

  “Dan, when you get ready, could you blow out the lantern?” asked Jill.

  He didn’t answer, but we could hear him continue to pace back and forth. I closed my eyes and was quickly lulled to sleep by the sound of his continuous footsteps on the wooden floor.

  * * *

  We were all wide awake when we heard the door being unlocked. There was a knock and the door opened, Samuel stepping into the room.

  Dan immediately rushed up to him, face to face. “I want out of here right now!” he demanded.

  Samuel kept his composure and smiled. “I was just coming to get you. Breakfast is ready downstairs.”

  Dan brushed past him and ran downstairs. The others followed, but in much less of a rush. I waited behind to talk with Samuel.

  “Why did you lock us in last night?” I asked.

  “Just a precaution for both your protection and ours. We don’t know each other. Not yet.”

  “I assumed it was something like that.”

  “I hope you’re going to stay, John. I think you’re going to fit in here just fine.”

  We followed the others downstairs. When we entered the main room, Gary and Paul were seated at the table eating what appeared to be oatmeal. Jill was standing at the open door, apparently upset about something.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.


  “Dan ran out, yelling he was going to get away from this place. I’m afraid he’s going to do something stupid.”

  I turned to Samuel. “Can you help us find him?”

  Always calm, level-headed, and in a cheerful disposition, Samuel patted Jill on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him before he can leave the valley. He’s not the first to have this reaction. In time, he’ll come to know us and accept us. If not, we’ll send him on his way, because if he doesn’t want to be here, we won’t force him.”

  * * *

  Dan didn’t know where he was going. He just knew he had to get away from there. Something was wrong with this place. He didn’t understand why the others couldn’t see it. He ran past several people on their way to work, each smiling and greeting him with “Good Morning, Dan.” He found it odd no one attempted to stop him or question him about where he was going. He was sure everyone in this community knew each other and they knew he was a stranger. They had probably seen him and his group when they came in the previous day.

  He stopped running, but continued to walk at a fast pace, taking in his surroundings. It was a beautiful little place - quiet, clean, green, and charming. If it wasn’t for the rules, it might not be a bad place to start over. But then, looks could be deceiving.

  “Where was he going?” he asked himself. He didn’t have a plan, just the need to get away at all cost. He couldn’t shake this gnawing feeling that something wasn’t right? It wasn’t just being locked in the room overnight, even though that wasn’t a great start. It was something else. But he couldn’t put his finger on it. He hadn’t been threatened. Just the opposite, everyone had been extremely friendly. Maybe too friendly. It wasn’t normal, at least not like where he had come from anyway. Maybe he was overacting because it hadn’t been normal, not the normal he had known. Perhaps he should try giving it a second chance. Maybe following their rules wouldn’t be so bad, temporarily anyway, until he knew more. Rules suggested structure and a purpose. That couldn’t be all bad.

  Two young men stepped out from one of the buildings directly into his path. He could tell it wasn’t a coincidence, they were there for him. There was no sense in running again, he would be patient and wait for a better time, after he was better prepared.

  “I think your friends are worried about you,” one of them stated, both smiling and cordial. Neither man attempted any show of physical force. He headed back to the town hall as his stomach began to growl.

  * * *

  We were all waiting outside the Town Hall when Dan returned with his escort. The two men smiled and nodded to Samuel, then turned and walked away.

  “Thanks, men,” he called after them.

  I got the feeling they had done this before. Dan sheepishly rejoined our group. The table had already been cleaned and he had missed out on breakfast, placing him again in a foul mood. He had messed up and there was no one to blame but himself. I didn’t feel sorry for him. However, Jill did, handing him a biscuit she’d saved. I saw him mouth the words ‘thank you.’ Maybe he wasn’t a lost cause.

  There was no point in asking why he had run off, we already knew, and why make him even more uncomfortable. He had been a pain from the very beginning, but he was one of us. If he wanted to talk about it, we’d let him bring it up.

  “While we have everyone together, how about a tour of our community before you decide on whether to stay or leave us?” asked Samuel, the invitation directed especially to Dan.

  Paul perked up. “That would be great,” he said eagerly.

  As we gathered on the front porch, I motioned for Samuel to lead the way with a sweep of my hand. We were first led through a small downtown area with storefronts showing off some of the craftsmen’s wares: such as clay and metal pots, dresses and shirts from a seamstress, and breads from a baker. The fantastic aroma from the bakery let us know loaves had just been recently removed from the oven. One shop contained miscellaneous second hand items like one would see at a flea market, and then at the end of the street we passed by a stable where the blacksmith was noisily working at his anvil.

  “You won’t find a cash register in any of these businesses,” commented Samuel. “We conduct our business by the barter system, trading items or services. Nothing is free though. If you choose to work in the fields, a portion of the harvest will be given to you to exchange for whatever else you may need. I’ll have my other son, Levi, come by tomorrow. He’ll talk with each of you and see what you would like to do or what you are suited to do. We’ll try to find a place where you’ll be happy. Okay?”

  I nodded. We continued at a casual pace down the center of the main street into an area with small houses on both sides. I was surprised at how quiet it was and that there were no other people out and about. Other than the clinking sound coming from the blacksmith shop, the town seemed to be deserted.

  “Why is it so quiet this morning?” I asked. “And where is everyone?”

  “Working. They are all working, men and women, either in the fields or at their craft. Just like I told you, everyone works.”

  “Where are the children we saw yesterday?” I asked.

  “School, of course. Just like a real town.” Samuel seemed to be slightly amused and at the same time slightly offended I would ask such a foolish question.

  “Are there many children here?” asked Jill.

  “Not many. Most are from our people, but a few are from your people.”

  “What do you mean by “our people”? asked Jill.

  “The people like you who we’ve brought here. Some have met and started new lives together, followed by babies. It’s a good place for a new beginning.”

  “How long have you and your people been here then?” asked Dan.

  “Our family left your world behind many years ago when the country’s problems first started, and I’m not just referring to the earthquakes. My ancestors traveled here from Pennsylvania, praying for a safe place to start over. And then they found this place, and they knew their prayers had been answered. My family has been here for five generations now, and from the stories we’ve heard about your world, we haven’t missed anything.”

  “It appears you’ve thrived here. You have a nice little community,” I replied.

  “Thank you.”

  “If you’re so against the rest of the world, why do you help outsiders like us?” asked Jill.

  “We’re not against it, we just choose not to be a part of it. And we help because we can,” answered Samuel. “It’s not your fault where you come from. It wouldn’t be right to know we could help and not even try. It would be as bad as us putting you to death ourselves.”

  “But you said if we couldn’t agree to follow your rules we would have to leave,” I pointed out.

  “That’s right. But it would be your choice, now wouldn’t it? We have to maintain certain rules to maintain our lifestyle. We won’t sacrifice that for anyone. Period. Like you said, we have a nice little community here and as it stands now, most of us, for the most part, are of a like mind.”

  We fell into silence as we continued to follow Samuel on a tour of the community. He brought us to the edge of town.

  “This is our primary source of food,” he said.

  There was a huge garden where several people, both men and women, were collecting a variety of vegetables including tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers, squash, cantaloupe, and lettuce. The soil appeared to be a dark loam, rich in nutrients. Beyond the garden we could see two fields, one with wheat, the heads beginning to turn a golden brown, the harvest maybe still a couple of weeks away. The other field had been planted in corn, the young stalks about two feet tall.

  Samuel gave us time to take it all in.

  Then he informed us everyone in the community helped to bring in the harvest, regardless of what they normally did. Without any modern equipment, the harvest was gathered by hand and horse drawn equipment, taking more time and effort.

  “We also have a few cattle, sheep, hogs, and chickens. I’ll s
how them to you another time. It’ll be lunch time soon, so why don’t we go back to Town Hall so you can get cleaned up and rest. I’m sure Emma is preparing something for you.”

  Samuel led the way back. We had been gone most of the morning with Samuel anxious to show us their community. We’d been just as anxious to learn about the place by bombarding him with questions. When we got back to Town Hall, Dan was hesitant to enter, but he’d missed out on breakfast and was starving. His stomach had been heard growling while on the tour. Otherwise, he’d been surprisingly quiet during our tour without a single negative comment. I could only guess he had temporarily accepted his situation, going along just until he could plan his escape. Whatever the reason was for his silence, I was grateful.

  Jill, Paul, and Gary had already entered the building, without hesitation, anxious for more of Emma’s cooking.

  Samuel pulled me aside before going in. “I want you and the others to feel free to go out and become familiar with the community and talk to whoever you like about whatever you like. I believe you’ll find everyone living here is very happy and I hope it’ll help you make the right decision for you.”

  “I’ve been thinking about something. If I decide to stay, I’d like to go back to Sector 4 and bring my family and two children here.”