The Provider

by John Hunt

  “Look at it one way, you know, and we’ve been really fortunate. Most of the people your Mom and me have known…our families…even if any of them have survived, I don’t see how we’re going to meet up again. I just hope that some of them are still out there.

  You know something – I’ve even started to pray. I think, maybe, I’ve been getting it all wrong. I’ve been talking to Louise a lot while you’ve been out hunting, and she might be right. I spoke to the pastor from Hope yesterday, about maybe getting baptized.”

  “What! Dad, that’s just not you? You don’t believe in God? It’s not real. You’ve always said so!”

  “Well, maybe I should. I’m not sure what’s real anymore. Is maths real? I used to think so. Hope, love, even faith – are they “real”? Look, Jim, I’m not saying I’m ever going to agree with the details, but maybe it’s something like the AA believing in a Higher Power. No one’s sure what it is, but it works, you’re more likely to keep off the booze if you can believe in something bigger than yourself. So does it matter whether it’s real or not?” He made quote marks in the air.

  We walked on. “Einstein believed in something like that, some kind of intelligence. There are these tiny particles, you know, at the bottom of everything, that only appear when you look for them, and when you don’t, they’re not there. Maybe the whole universe is like that? It needs an observer. It’s an act of creation, and behind it is a creator of some kind, with a purpose. It’s what all the religions say, at heart. And what was good enough for Einstein, I guess it’s good enough for me.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a good enough reason for you, Dad.”

  Dad smiled. “But haven’t I always been interested in what works? I guess, for me, it’s fifty/fifty.”

  “But you’ve always been going on about evidence, and fifty/fifty is just a toss of the coin. How can you get baptized, if you aren’t convinced?”

  He laughed. “Good questions, Jim. I guess I find Louise’s idea of a kind of transcendent cosmic spirit makes more sense to me than God appearing in the form of one man for a few years. If I was looking at monotheism logically, I guess I’d be a Muslim. But as Louise says, you should respect the traditions you were born into. I don’t want the Christianity of my grandparents, but I think I understand them more now. The Depression was tough for them. Anyway, what tips the scales for me is that your Mom would like it, it’s a little something I can do for her. Not much else I can do. Isn’t that good enough?”

  “Is this because of the cancer?”

  “It makes a difference, sure, if your Mom is going to live more easily afterwards, knowing I’ve been baptized. But it’s not the main reason. I think I can honestly say that.

  “We all have to go, Jim, it’s the only thing we can be sure of. I’m not scared of dying, just hope it’s not too painful. Living – that’s different, that’s scary now. This year has changed my thinking, Jim. It all seems senseless. If I look back, it’s desperately sad. All those people, our friends, family, everything that we’ve lost. I feel bad about Jerry and Marcia, I should’ve tried harder to persuade them to come with us. We were lucky, we’ve got this far, thanks to Bob. But it’s not just the people, not just my job, the university, our house, it’s like…it’s like everything’s gone. In months. The structures of society, the knowledge, the books, the news, the museums, the technology, what we got up in the morning thinking we were going to do, went to bed going over what we’d achieved during the day, it’s all crumbled. And if I look ahead, it’s bleak. Everything that made life work for us – you can’t reassemble it overnight without a power supply. And we could get that going again, sometime, but it’s still going to take us decades, centuries, to get back to where we were. And in the meantime, I think we’re going to have to believe in something that’s bigger than ourselves, something worthwhile, to get us through.”

  We turned around at the end of the pontoon.

  “Dad, what am I going to do?”

  “Just live the best you can, Jim. Do well by other people. Be honest with them. Encourage them. You’ll need help. Particularly Jessie’s – a man and wife…no better support structure’s been invented. Make friends, alliances. Theo’ll help, but he’s no spring chicken. I’ll do what I can – we should get some workshops going. You’ll need engineers, chemists, carpenters, agriculturalists, vets. People will need to retrain. You’ll need generators, hundreds of them.”

  “But there’s oil in Valdez, we could use that?”

  “Maybe. Maybe there’s enough there for a generation. Does oil go off in storage? I don’t know. But I doubt they’re just going to give it to you. So you’ll need to have something to trade. And a means of getting it.”

  We walked on for a while.

  “Dad, is this going to work?”

  “Of course, Jim, life will carry on. I hope it works out as well for you and Jessie as it can do. That’s all I can say. I’m not going to sugar coat it for you. Looking back, I think we were always running too close to the edge. We weren’t thinking ahead, putting in fat for the lean times, it was all too short term. And some good things will come of all this, already have done. After all, you and Jessie wouldn’t have met if we’d stayed back in Anchorage, and Mom and I wouldn’t have agreed to your setting up home together if circumstances hadn’t been a little—” He winced. “Unusual”.

  SIXTY-THREE

  Jessie and I were sitting out on the harbor wall, arms around each other, legs swinging over the edge, looking over the boats that were still tied up at the pontoons. Along the beach, Sue was playing with friends in the water, despite the chill – it was probably warmer in the water than outside it. Shrieks and splashing noises echoed around the bay. It was so long since I’d heard children laughing. Theo and Louise were walking around the headland, talking, heads together. Further up, on the ridge, where what was now being called “The Battle of Portage Pass” had taken place, the huge, golden-red sun was setting, its rays lighting up the glaciers on each side as if they were fire rather than ice. They flickered off Jessie’s eyes, her skin, she looked fantastic. Overhead, the snickering laughter of a bald eagle.

  In the distance, I could see a boat sailing in from a fishing trip, a flock of gulls diving around it. I could just make out the couple of figures on board.

  “That looks like Bess, the one chucking guts overboard. Is that her? Is that Bobby with her?”

  Jess laughed. I loved her musical laugh, I can still hear it in my head. “Bobby was yesterday, that’s Billy. She’s trying them out, one every couple of days.”

  “What? She’s not giving any of them a chance?”

  “You might not believe this, Jim, but sometimes you just know. And she has time to make up.”

  We were quiet for a while.

  “It’s just over a year since this all started,” said Jessie, turning to me, her new ponytail swinging. “Hard to believe so much has changed in such a short time.”

  “Yes. I’m not sorry about it though,” I replied, weighing it up. “Even with all the dying…we’ve met…it’s brought us together.”

  “I’m not sorry either,” she said. “I’m glad.”

  “I’m still not sure why you wanted to go with me though,” I said. “Was it because there wasn’t anyone else around?”

  “Jim, my last boyfriend was captain of the football team, but a Mommy’s boy. He would have ended up selling insurance in his Dad’s firm, except he’s probably dead now. He wouldn’t have survived out here for a month – would’ve ended up with a knife in his back. And I didn’t know this about you when I first got interested, but you can track animals in the dark, shoot them through the eye, build huts, wipe out bandits, and you’re going to lead a community…so start taking yourself seriously.”

  “So if I couldn’t do all that stuff, would you still love me?”

  You’re such an idiot sometimes.” She laughed, her eyes dancing in the sunset. “I like that about you, it’s your best quality. I can wrap you around my little
finger.”

  “I’m very happy to be wrapped around you,” I replied, taking her finger in my mouth and sucking it. “Shall we go back and do some wrapping?”

  She punched me lightly on the shoulder. “Jim Richards, you have a one track mind. Like mine, I guess. Anyway, on that subject, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  “What’s that?”

  She hesitated. “I’m pregnant,” she said, shyly.

  “What? You’re up the duff? I thought you were on the pill!”

  “I was, but I came off it.”

  “Why?”

  “I was talking about it with Louise. There was something she said…it was about how just surviving wasn’t enough. We had to put down roots, grow communities, and build families. Look to the future.”

  “But, Christ, Jessie, we’ve got a war on here.”

  “She talked about that as well. She said war’s normal. Always has been. It’s only the last few generations who’ve never really been in one. You can’t stop having kids just because some stupid men want to strut their stuff. Are you saying you don’t want me to have it?”

  “No, of course not! It’s just…I don’t feel ready for it, Jessie. Last year – I hadn’t even ever had a girlfriend.”

  “Last year you hadn’t killed anyone either. What’s the number now…six? Seven? I saw you shooting in that fight, you were picking those guys off like ducks in a gallery.”

  “But that was different. We had to do it. We had no choice.”

  She hesitated. “We have to do this as well, if we’re going to live for real, rather than just hunting or being hunted. And if we’re going to start, why not now?”

  “Do Mom and Dad know?”

  “Your Mom does. She gave me the pregnancy test. She had a kit that you brought back from Anchorage. I don’t know if your Dad does. I haven’t told my Dad, but I think he’d like being a grandfather. Anyway, it’s not their business, it’s ours.”

  What a year it had been. I felt it rolling up behind me, like a carpet, leading inevitably to this moment, happiness surging through me.

  I took a few deep breaths. “I love you, Jessie, and I love the family we’re going to have. Jessie…would you marry me?” I scrabbled around in my pockets and came up empty and momentarily stumped. Then I remembered and pulled out my gloves, feeling the solid lump at the bottom of the left hand one. Pushing my fingers inside, I drew out and held up the ring Louise had given me.

  “Jesus, Jim, where did you get that from? Are you trying to make an honest woman out of me?” Jessie’s eyes were huge. “Anyway, you need to get onto your knees to ask me that. Do it properly,” she insisted, laughing.

  I knelt on the cobbled wall. It was slimy with moss and seaweed, but what the hell.

  “Sorry. Jessie Harding,” I said, my voice sounding very serious, “would you think about the possibility, would you…would you do me the honor of…hell, will you marry me?”

  “Jim Richards, I would love to. The answer is ‘yes.’”

  EPILOGUE

  That was the story of the first year after the Event, sixty-five years ago, as seen through my eyes. Of the many battles I’ve won in my life, that, the first, was the easiest, and the most complete. Later, it got more difficult, as enemies grew wary of me, even feared me.

  I was going to jump forward now, or I’m never going to finish this. Forward by five to ten years, to describe the beginnings of the Northern Free State: of how a family became a community, how a community became a country. But the fort is in turmoil. Gor has rushed in, worry all over his seamed face. “Master, the aliens have come. They’ve come for slaves!”

  It took me a while to understand what he was talking about. Apparently, we have a visitor, just arrived in Anchorage, or what remains of it – you’d barely know it had been there nowadays. Exploding petrol stations, chemical depots and raging fires played havoc in the first couple of years. The houses, parks and roads have all reverted to almost impenetrable woodland, fertilized by bones. The few buildings left, rising above the sea of green, are covered in vegetation; lichen, ivy and bearded creeper have taken over the skyscrapers still standing, now homes for falcons and wildcats, foxes and bats. It’s a giant cemetery, with ghosts haunting the ruins at night, eerie winds whistling around empty corridors, screams of prey being taken, the occasional rumble of floors collapsing and cladding falling off the buildings. No one from the settlements would venture in; it’s a place for outcasts and outlaws, for anyone beyond the pale.

  But a boat has arrived, a huge, Chinese junk, from Japan. It carries not just a visitor, but an ambassador. Short, with slit eyes, like the remaining Inuit here. Speaking good English. And the ambassador is a woman! It’s a long time since we’ve seen any women in positions of authority. She has a couple of hundred soldiers at her back. And they have weaponry that we lost the skill of using decades ago – they even have cannon.

  And to cross the vast Pacific – that’s extraordinary. We don’t have anything that can do more than coastal hops, and wouldn’t know how to get to Japan even if we had the boats to get there.

  The news has put me into a tremble. I’ll ask Gor to open a can of peaches – I’ve been left with my own supplies and have hoarded a few tins. They’re seventy years past the sell-by date, but are mostly still fine, and with no teeth there’s not much I can eat nowadays anyway.

  I sense a change in the attitude of the guards. Gor says the Council don’t know how to respond to the Japanese ambassador. Scarcely surprising – they were probably unaware of the country’s existence. She’s offering sugar, salt and other goods in exchange for strong, young boys and girls. So long as they’re white – apparently, the fairer the skin, the higher the premium as slaves, as status symbols, especially in the African Empire, where many of them are shipped on to. From what she says, that’s the most advanced society nowadays, much more so than the new Republic of America, in the Midwest, run by Trump 111. That’s recently spread to the Pacific coast, which has pushed their slaving expeditions further north. I am called to appear before the Council tomorrow. I will have to put this parchment aside for the moment, to collect my thoughts.

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