by Connor Mccoy
But now she wanted to be more than just self-reliant, she wanted to help others. So she dressed in work clothes, pulled a hat over her hair, and made her way down the flights of stairs and onto the street.
The mood on the street was different today. There was activity, a purpose and more hope than she’d seen in a long time. As she walked out onto the street, she heard women and children singing. How long had it been since she’d heard a child sing? Too often she’d heard children shushed, being told not to draw attention to themselves, and now they were singing. Had the Court been so repressive?
How could she not have realized this?
Once at the park, she began weaving through groups of people looking for the Melvin Doctor. She thought she remembered someone calling him Glen. She found him with the other Melvins at the back of the building that housed the medical clinic. They were huddled together around a metal drum with smoke rising out of it, making plans for the day.
She backed away and stood out of earshot, waiting for them to be done. Eventually, the group broke up, each of them going a different direction. As if he knew she was waiting for him, Glen approached her.
“We’re burying Arthur today,” he said. “I imagine you’d like to join us?”
“I came because I want to help with the gardens,” she said. “I need to feel useful. But yes, I also want to be there when you bury Arthur.”
“We’ve decided to bury him in the park, near to the entrance to the community center we will erect there. Melvin and Christian are recruiting men to help dig the grave, Mia and Sally are preparing the body, and Robbie is finding us a coffin. We hope to place him in the ground at dusk.”
“Can I help with the gardens while I’m waiting?” she asked. “I could do with something to keep me occupied.”
He looked carefully at her face, and she imagined that he could see the signs of her night of grief written there. She hoped it meant something to him.
“I’m afraid you won’t be safe,” he said. “What if someone recognizes you? As a judge on the Court they might feel justified in tearing you limb from limb.”
“Not many of them have seen me face to face,” she said. “And even then they seemed to focus on the trappings of the position, not on the person occupying it. I think I’ll be okay.”
“I can’t be held responsible,” he said, his voice heavy with concern.
“If they kill me, there will be no one to hold you responsible,” she said. “I have no relatives.”
“Fine, let me ask Mia where to put you.” He turned on his heel and left, only to be back a few minutes later.
“She told me where to find the group she’s assigned you to. Come this way.” He walked along the driveway toward the road, and she rushed to catch up with him. They followed the road to the south edge of the park, near a stack of cinder blocks.
There was a group of young people leaning over a rough sketch of a raised bed, similar to the one that already had been erected on the corner of the park. Glen led her over to them. He stopped her before they reached them.
“I don’t know your name,” he said.
“Chantal,” she said. “Just call me Chantal.”
He smiled at her, and she got the impression he was a kind man.
“Okay, Chantal, lets go meet the group.” He led her over to them.
“Hey guys, this is Chantal. She volunteered to help, and you seemed like you might be willing to take on another member.”
A young blonde girl looked up. “Oh, totally, right guys?” She looked around at the others, who nodded with the same enthusiasm. “I’m Tawny.” She held out her hand, and Chantal shook it.
Chantal noticed Glen slipping away as the others introduced themselves and she assumed he had patients to see as well as all the other duties that would come with the creation of a new community.
“Have you ever built anything like this?” Tawny asked, her eyes hopeful.
“Not exactly like this, but it doesn’t have to be up to code, only strong enough to keep the soil in,” Chantal said.
“Look, you’ve already leveled the plot, so now we start with a line of cinder blocks,” she went on to demonstrate how to build the raised bed and cover the top so the lip could be used as a seat when gardening. It was an exercise in team building and when lunch was announced they joined in the line and ate together, laughing and talking about their next task.
“You’ll be with us, won’t you, Chantal?” Tawny asked. “We’d still be waffling around if you hadn’t come and got us organized.”
The others nodded, and not one of them looked as though they resented her taking over the role as leader. “Of course I will, we will do great things together,” she said. “I heard they will need a team to work on designing the interior of the community center. I think we’d be fabulous at that.”
“Are you coming to Mr. Davis’s funeral this evening?” a young man named Laurence asked. “We’re naming the community center after him.
“Arthur was a friend of mine,” Chantal said. “He stood by me. I’ll be there to honor him tonight.”
“He was your friend?” Tawny asked. “Oh, how awful, I’m so sorry.”
“I’m so glad to have known him,” Chantal said. “I can’t be sorry for the pain I feel now. He made me a better person, and I owe him a debt of gratitude. I still plan to repay that, even though he’s gone now. He had a vision for this city, and I’m going to work toward making it come true.”
“We’ll help you,” Laurence said. “Whatever you want to do, we’ll be there with you. There’s a lot worse you could do with your life than to honor such a compassionate man.”
Chantal felt the tears in her eyes and blinked them away. She would not be alone in this new world, and she would have a purpose every bit as valid as the one she’d been made to let go of.
Mia helped Sally bathe and dress Arthur’s body. Tears ran down Sally’s face and dripped onto Arthur. Mia blotted them up the best she could. She had known Sally admired Arthur and looked up to him, but this seemed so much more than that. Mia felt Sally was grieving for a future in which they might have been a couple.
“Did you love him?” she asked gently.
“I hadn’t known him long enough to love him in that way,” Sally said. “But I feel I would have loved him before long. And I thought he might feel the same way about me. After all these years, to find someone who accepted me as I am, and then to have him die. There is no justice in this world.”
“There will be someone, Sally,” Mia said. “I promise. It just takes time. But we’re part of a community now. There will be so many people you can see, and who will see you. There is bound to be someone.”
“I thought that I might go back to New Town. To where Anthony is.” She frowned. “He said he would wait for me. Maybe I should go back to him. I can help with the medical clinic in New Town. And Anthony is a decent man.”
“Why not send a message and ask him to come to help out here?” Mia asked. “Rather than you going back there. Anthony would be a huge asset to us. He’s skilled in so many ways. And then we wouldn’t have to lose you. Our friend.”
“Maybe,” Sally said. “I guess I could think about it.”
Robbie’s crew brought the coffin in just as the girls were putting the finishing touches on Arthur’s clothes. Sally had to get his tie just right, and Mia fussed with his cuffs below his jacket sleeves. They made the men wait as they tugged on the bottom of his suit jacket and the cuffs of his pants, and then they all lifted him into the coffin, which was padded and lined with satin.
“Where did you get this, Robbie?” Mia asked as they settled Arthur and closed the gold inlaid lid. “It’s very nice.”
“I took it from the undertaker's attic,” Robbie said. “I think it was one he was saving for himself, or maybe his wife, but Arthur, he deserves the best coffin in the city. The undertaker can find another one. He’s got some in his basement he can use.”
“Good going, Robbie,” Christia
n said, and ruffled the boy’s hair. “I agree. Arthur deserves the best coffin in the city.” The two bumped fists.
Mia kept her smile to herself. It made her happy to see Christian forming a bond with Robbie. It made her feel as if they had a future, that their lives could grow and get better along with the city. It was a good feeling.
At dusk, they loaded the coffin onto Robbie’s boat trailer and wheeled it to the center of the park. They set the coffin on the ground near the hole in the dirt. Then they opened the lid and let the line of people pay Arthur his final respects.
Sally stood at the head of the coffin and cried like a newly widowed woman, and no one rebuked her. Many women took her hand and pressed it as they passed, knowing the pain she felt. The occasional man would touch her shoulder, and Mia stood behind in silent observation, watching it all.
Finally, the line dwindled. And Glen delivered a blessing. They had decided not to draw out the funeral out speeches and memories because most of what they remembered was colored by the violence of the last few days. They closed the lid and lowered the coffin into the ground as gently as they could. Again the crowd shuffled by, this time tossing handfuls of dirt and sometimes flowers, onto his coffin.
When they were done, Christian and Melvin filled the grave with the rest of the dirt, although there really wasn’t that much more to be replaced. The people had performed most of their work for them.
Mia saw a woman place a bouquet on the grave and went to ask her where they’d come from.
“There is a conservatory on top of one of the buildings,” the woman told her. “It’s made of glass, so it’s still light and warm. A woman grows flowers there, and she will barter for the right price.”
Glen came up and stood with them. “I see you’ve met Chantal,” he said. “She came to join us today.”
“Nice to meet you, Chantal,” Mia said. “I’m glad you had something to barter for flowers. I know Sally was sad that we didn’t have any for Arthur.”
“Then they can be from all of us,” Chantal said. “Arthur was an extraordinary man.”
Mia knew Chantal’s voice, but maybe it was just that she was mourning Arthur the same as she and Sally were, but she seemed a lot less formidable than she’d been at the court. She took Chantal’s hand. “Thank you, it means more than I can say.”
Chapter Eighteen
Mia knew who Chantal was the moment she saw her approach them as they planned Arthurs funeral, and she knew Glen knew too. In fact, she was pretty sure the five of them all knew that Chantal had been the Chief Justice of the Koupe Tribinal. Rage rushed through her, but she kept herself under control and let it dissipate. This woman had tried to act compassionately. She had not ordered Arthur’s death, and now she was grieving his loss.
Mia thought how easy it would be to send out the alarm, to let everyone know who this woman was, and then to encourage the community to tear her to pieces. But what good would that do? And wouldn’t that make Mia even worse than the Court she despised? Later, much later, maybe months or years from now, she would ask Chantal what possessed her to let the Court become such a brutal travesty of justice. But not until Arthur had been appropriately mourned, and she could approach Chantal on neutral ground.
After helping Sally dress Arthur, Mia watched from the balcony as Chantal taught the young team where Glen had assigned her. She was respectful and kind. They made a good start on their raised bed when Mia turned away. She should be back in the clinic, signing people in and creating charts. Picking up where they left off yesterday.
In addition to the usual health issues, they were getting injuries related to the community gardens. Cinderblocks were dropped on toes; people tripped and fell – scraping their knees and elbows. A girl of about ten fell from a tree she was climbing and broke her arm. None of these injuries were emergencies or tricky to deal with, but they took time. Their day went quickly.
She changed and cleaned herself up after they closed the clinic for the day. Then she made her way to the surgery room where Arthur’s body waited for them. She helped to move him from the table to the coffin with the others. Even Robbie was there, carefully holding Arthur’s head so he came to rest gently.
Mia couldn’t keep the tears from flowing down her face, and when she saw Melvin and Sally also were crying it only made it worse. But she held back the sobs and blinked her eyes so she could see to help carry the coffin outside to the boat trailer.
Robbie’s team of children were there, all as neat and clean as they could make themselves. They guided the trailer down the drive and across the road, lifting it onto the sidewalk that ringed the park. Once across the grass to the grave near the fountain, the children stood back and let the adults lift Arthur’s casket to the ground. They were the first to pay their respects, and then they lined up on the far side of the grave. Arthur’s diminutive honor guard.
Mia went to stand with them, protecting their backs. Not because she felt they were in any danger, but because she wanted to honor their bravery. In a few years, these children would be in charge of the new world, and she felt they would do very well with Robbie at the helm. He’d probably be called Robert then, and he would know how to run things.
She had no doubt that in a democracy, he would be voted in as a leader of some kind. You’d have to be stupid not to see his potential.
She said as much to Christian as they walked back to the museum after Arthur had been buried. “He’s a natural leader,” she said as they leaned on the parapet overlooking the park.
There were groups of people all over holding wakes. Mia didn’t know if Arthur was religious, but you could see pockets of people honoring him with their own traditions, some somber, some rowdy, but they all seemed respectful. They were acknowledging the dead in their own way.
“When I die,” she said, “I don’t want a party full of sobbing people. You understand? I want you to celebrate my life and memory. Talk about the fun and good.”
“Are you planning on passing soon?” Christian had a twinkle in his eye. “Should I be planning?”
She smacked him on the shoulder. “You know what I mean. Don’t be carrying on because I’m not here. Enjoy that I was here at all.”
“I know what you mean,” he said, “but I’m hoping you’ll stay around for a while more.” He dropped to one knee. “I want you around forever, so I’m hoping you’ll marry me.”
“Get up, you infuriating man,” she said, crying again. “Of course I’ll marry you. You don’t have to kneel.” She tugged him up off the ground.
“That’s the way to do it,” he said. “Go down on your knee. You are also supposed to have flowers or a ring, but Arthur got the flowers, and I want us to make your ring together. So it’s just me. I had to kneel, it was the only part I had.”
“I’d like to make our rings together,” she said. “But I’ll only wear one if you do.”
“Oh, I have to have a ring. Otherwise, I’ll spend all my time beating back the hoards of eligible woman we have around here.” He waved his hand to indicate the empty balcony.
Mia rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure I’m willing to marry a delusional man.”
“Honey, I’m counting on you to keep me on the straight and narrow.” He drew her close.
“Why do men always think it’s a woman’s job to keep them in line?” she asked. “I’m far too busy to monitor your behavior, but make no mistake, if you cheat on me, I’m gone.”
“Why would I cheat on the most fabulous woman in the world?” he asked and then kissed her.
She had plenty of arguments, but she let them go for now and kissed him back.
After the funeral, Melvin went to look for Joe and Daniel and found them on a park bench, legs splayed in front of them, each with a can of beer in their hand.
“Where’d you get that?” Melvin asked, slumping onto the bench next to them.
“Some grateful geezer who’s been hording shit in his basement since the dawn of time,” Joe said. “He’s so gratef
ul that people are coming together to help each other and to grow food, and all that other jazz your friend was talking about last night, that he broke open his cache and started handing out beverages. Who was I to say no?”
“How are you feeling, Daniel?” Melvin asked. “Is your head clear yet?”
“Nothing like a day of hauling bricks around to clear the crap out of my system,” Daniel said. “I may never forgive my brother, but I guess I can understand that he wanted to keep me alive. I was hell-bent on destruction.”
“And now?” Melvin hoped maybe there would be a change.
“I have to say, seeing what’s happening here makes me a lot less willing to shred someone with a knife for someone else’s pleasure. Why fight to eat when you can grow food instead?”
“Yeah, but what are we going to do for food this winter?” Joe asked. “A lot of people are going to die this winter if we don’t have food.”
“We’re starting a greenhouse in the ballroom of the museum,” Melvin said, “And other greenhouses are going up. We’re working on ways to keep them warm and get enough sunlight so things will grow. We could use a couple of strong men to help construct greenhouses and then help tend them. I’m offering room and board in the museum. We have heat and plenty of room. It’s a good core of people, and we’re trying to grow it with people who are willing to work.”
“And we’ll be feeding those who don’t want to work?” Daniel asked, a scowl on his face.
“You’ll be helping to feed everyone. In every community, people have different talents and different levels of ability. Unfortunately, that means there may be some who don’t contribute on the same level you will. But with good planning, as you get older, you will do less while the younger people do more. The benefit of being part of a community is that if you are injured or ill, there are others to do your job and take care of you until you are well. But I have to admit that there are likely to be people who you think aren’t pulling their weight.”