by Matt Drabble
They lay sleepily entwined afterwards as always, his head upon her chest as she stroked his hair; this was a time of peace and tranquility between them. The sex they shared had always been warm and tender and she hoped that the frequency could increase in their new life. It was time to truly put the past in the rear-view mirror and step full throttle on the gas. There had been far too few smiles and laughter for far too long.
“Come on, sleepy head,” she roused him gently. “We’re supposed to have been there by now.” She tapped her watch to illustrate. “Want me to drive?”
“No chance, m’lady,” he laughed. “Just how would that look to our kind new hosts, first impressions and all that?”
“New beginnings,” she said lightly, but her hand gripped his seriously.
“New beginnings,” he agreed solemnly.
CHAPTER FOUR
They both gasped aloud when they came around the bend. The world went from a beautiful but desolate wasteland to just simply beautiful. Michael pulled the car over to the side of the road as they took in the vision. The town lay out before them at the bottom of the valley like a stunning painting. White buildings peeked up through perfect greenery. They could see the length and breadth of the town. The town centre square was manicured and lushly green. A steeple chapel stood tall and proud gleaming in the sun. Large, full trees lined perfect streets and the houses stood to attention, spotless and polished. The thick woodlands hemmed in the town from behind as the foliage stretched to the horizon.
“Wow,” was all Emily could muster.
“Holy shit,” was how Michael more succinctly put it.
“It’s like a dream, it’s just so, so…” she whispered.
“So perfect,” he finished, squeezing her hand tightly before raising it to his lips and kissing it gently.
He put the car into gear and they headed down the steep incline towards a new life. The closer they got to the town’s provenance, the more cared for and sculpted the surroundings became. The hedgerows growing supposedly wild were suddenly trimmed and sculpted into perfect shapes and contours. The fields were farmed and neatly structured, with perfect lines of freshly dug earth open and ready for insertion.
They approached the welcoming front gates; the building was stone and glass, landscaped rockeries were plush and brimming with a rainbow of flowers. A large stone sign was carved into the centerpiece of the display; it read “Eden Gardens”. The rocks were pristine, dimpled stones of perfect grey encasing the flora and the grass was lush and green, even in the heat. The security booth seemed warm and non-threatening. The sun bounced off the immaculate windows as the glass sparkled and shone. There were two lanes, one either side of the booth, and both were protected by a barrier arm on a counter balance. Michael was so distracted by the undeniable beauty that he forgot which country he was in and approached on the wrong side of the road. Two security guards exploded from the booth in a flash. Both were large and burly, wearing matching deep blue uniforms that fitted snugly to their muscular frames. Emily jumped in terror as both men drew large handguns from holsters and raised them menacingly. Michael slammed on the brakes and lifted his hands off the steering wheel in a submissive gesture.
“Sorry, sorry,” he shouted through the driver’s window.
“Keep your hands where I can see them,” the first guard barked with an authoritative tone that refused debate.
“It’s okay,” Michael called. “We’re moving in today; here I’ve got some ID.” He reached towards the glove compartment.
“FREEZE!” both guards roared in unison.
The echo of the guns cocking chilled Emily to the bone and she reached out and desperately grabbed Michael’s arm before he leant forward. He turned to her in puzzled bewilderment, unaware of the immediate danger that they were both in.
Suddenly, the second guard appeared cautiously at the driver’s window, “Step out of the car slowly, sir,” he instructed.
Michael eased himself out of the rental car and for the first time felt the electric tension crackling in the air. “Easy, easy,” he stuttered nervously, his hands outstretched in front of him in surrender. “We’re the Torrances. We’re expected; my ID’s in the glove compartment,” he pointed, stepping back.
“Ma’am,” the guard instructed, never taking his watchful eyes off of Michael. “Put your hands on the dashboard and keep them there.” He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out Michael’s ID. With a nod, he turned to his partner and the tension fell from his face and the situation. “I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Torrance, Mrs. Torrance; when you rushed the barrier we didn’t know what was happening.” His face was polite and courteous. “It’s okay, Jerry,” he called to his partner. “They’re expected.”
Emily turned to the second guard, Jerry, and saw a flash of anger across his face, before his features cracked into a stony smile that never quite touched his eyes. She turned back to Michael to see him engaged with the first guard. His name badge read James, and across the top it said, “Welcome to Eden”. Some welcome, she thought.
Michael was talking eagerly to the security guard, his fear soon replaced by interest. “Is everyone armed over here?” he asked excitedly, having never even seen a gun before.
“Oh, that’s right,” James replied. “You guys are from England, right? Your cops aren’t even armed. Man, that’s just too weird.”
“Can I hold it?”
“Michael!” Emily scolded from the car. “Don’t you dare.”
He turned to her sheepishly, half embarrassed and half angry at her tone in front of strangers, his eyes returning a scolding of their own.
“Don’t you worry, Mrs. Torrance,” James said amiably. “It’s against policy.” He turned back to Michael and said softly, “There’s a gun range in town. They’ll set you up with a weapon on the range, let you squeeze off a few rounds,” he chuckled conspiratorially. “Just don’t tell the missus.” He led Michael back to the driver’s door and escorted him safely inside. Jerry appeared at his shoulder and handed him a clipboard. “Here you go, folks.” He passed Michael a window sticker. “That’s your entry and parking pass; make sure that it’s in the car at all times.”
“Oh, this is just a rental,” Michael replied. “It’s getting picked up later today; some college kid should be coming on the bus to drive it back. We were going to pick up a vehicle here hopefully.”
“Ah, you’ll be visiting Eddie Halloran’s place then. Tell him that I said not to rip you off,” he laughed.
“Is he not trustworthy then?” Emily asked.
James looked shocked. “Oh hey, I was just joking, Mrs. Torrance. This here is Eden - heaven on earth and twice as nice.”
Michael laughed, only to realise that he was the only one doing so. He turned it quickly into a coughing fit to cover the awkward silence.
“You’ll need to head straight down this road,” James continued. “About three miles down the way you’ll find the Welcome Office on the right. Mr. Christian will meet you there.”
Michael gave thanks and drove through the now-raised barrier. Emily looked over to him nervously, her face still a little white with stress.
“Hey, hey,” Michael spoke softly, “it’s okay. They just do things differently here.”
“Those men were pretty scary,” she said shakily, “with scary guns.”
“That’s kind of the idea, don’t you think? They’re out there stopping people from getting in.”
Or getting out, Emily’s distracted mind couldn’t help but think.
CHAPTER FIVE
Eden Gardens – Heaven on Earth and Twice as Nice, the website banner had loudly proclaimed to Michael, who had been flicking idly around the internet. The word document containing the work on his latest novel lay minimized on the bottom tab staring up at him forlorn and abandoned. He ignored the book as best he could, despite her pricking around the corners of his mind; his resentment and guilt were still fresh and raw wounds. Emily was sleeping in the apartment bedroom; she s
lept a lot since she had returned from the hospital he had found.
The car that had ploughed into her on the icy pavement had left them both scarred with injuries that would never fully heal. She had suffered a broken leg, three cracked ribs, a concussion, and, most hurtfully, the loss of their baby. Whenever he had tried to talk to her about the accident, she would clam up tight and profess to being tired. He knew that she blamed him, and not without good reason.
His eighth novel was now a ludicrous tale of vampires taking over organised crime. As much as he knew she blamed him, he blamed the unfinished book. His agent, Simon Day, had already begun lightly pestering him for updates on the novel, even though it had barely been three months since his and Emily’s lives had been devastated. Simon was a heavyset man who seemed to be perpetually sweating whatever the temperature. He was shaggy haired and bearded, short and rotund. He had been a decent agent, always working for Michael with loyalty borne of the twenty percent share. The phone messages and emails had begun a little over a week ago; at first they were consoling and cajoling, but now their tone was growing ever more impatient and concerned. Michael knew that his audience was loyal to a point; he shifted decent enough numbers to write full time and provide a respectable standard of living. He was born of working-class stock and with most of his ilk, the only thing worse than not having money was to gain it and then lose it. The bulk of his earnings over the last eight years was safely tucked away. The lump sum of just over 1.1 million provided an annual interest income of around 50,000 a year, which was more than enough. Michael had a vast imagination when it came to creative writing, but when it came to creative spending, he was an amateur.
“Eden Gardens”, the screen flashed again. The picture was a photograph that Michael felt must surely be doctored. The sweeping woodlands surrounded a picture perfect town of immaculate white buildings gleaming in the faultless sunshine. He had always felt an affinity for America; he had grown tired of the UK’s downbeat, negative attitudes and softness towards crime. He knew that he came across to others as reticent and sullen, but he had increasingly felt that perhaps it was his surroundings that were dragging him down. They lived in an apartment block containing sixteen other dwellings, and yet they knew only two of their neighbors. In the UK, if you tapped on a door across the hallway, you were unlikely to have the door opened, and - even if it was -then you were met with suspicious glares. Perhaps a little sunshine and a little infusion of sunnier dispositions was just what they needed. He scrolled down through the advert and began reading. About two hours later two things happened: a hand tapped on his shoulder, and he was in love.
CHAPTER SIX
The long, narrow road was lined with stunning sycamore trees. Each was perfect in size and shape; the trunks were long and the heads were lush and healthy. Michael felt like he was in a dream and did not want to wake up anytime soon. He looked to Emily, whose face was glowing and happier after their scare at the security booth. He had been a little shaken by the armed aggression at the gates but figured that they would both have plenty to get used to before even the first day was over.
They soon came to the Welcome Office; it was a smart single-storey building. As with all of the buildings that he had seen so far, it was a perfect gleaming white. The tarmac parking area outside was a deep black that looked new and was not faded by the hot sun’s rays. The lines’ dividing spaces were crisp and symmetrical, and a new looking Chevrolet Captiva sat aligned in one space. Michael pulled the rental car in beside it. The U-Haul trailer shuddered to a halt behind them. Michael jumped. Since they had hitched it, he had often forgotten it was there.
The office front door swung open and a tall man stepped out into the hot day. Despite the roaring temperature, he glided gracefully down the handful of wooden steps in a full three-piece suit and tie. He looked around sixty, but hale and hearty. He was about six feet four, slender and lean; his hair was white and full and swept back in well-groomed waves. His suit was a light grey pinstripe and his waistcoat held a glinting gold pocket watch on a chain. He strode towards the rental car; his face beamed with enthusiasm and welcome and his arms opened wide with eagerness.
Michael was barely out of the car before his hand was grasped and pumped with gusto.
“Mr. Torrance!” The man pumped furiously. “It’s so wonderful to meet you. I’m Casper Christian; we spoke many times over the phone.”
“Yes, yes,” Michael managed amused, his arm already aching. Since their landing in the country, he had been overwhelmed by the friendliness and vociferousness of the greetings by complete strangers. Their English accents had been met with more and more squeals of delight the further west they had travelled.
“Mrs. Torrance.” Casper stepped around the car to greet Emily as she exited to join the party. “It’s a delight, my dear.”
Casper stooped as he spoke and formally took her hand; he bowed and kissed her hand with a soft feather touch. Emily blushed at the older man’s ceremony. “Please, it's Emily and Michael, Mr. Christian.” She fought the urge to curtsey.
“Then it’s Casper, my dear. Casper to you both, and you are both very, very welcome,” he added seriously.
“So where do we start?” Michael asked, feeding on the upbeat vibe.
“A quick tour around Eden to show off our wonderful town, and then I will show you to your new and last ever home.”
He spoke in a pleasant and buoyant tone, but Emily still felt a stab of concern over his choice of words. She looked over to Michael who was glowing along with the town manager. She knew that this move had been Michael’s original suggestion, but she had gone along willingly. His work and their finances meant that they could afford the move, and the immigration papers had welcomed a financially wealthy couple who would spend rather more than they would take. She had a marketable skill as a teacher, and the town council had arranged for her to take a recent vacant position at the local school. It would be her first foray back into work and she was more than a little apprehensive about working with children again so soon after their loss.
“Shall we?” Casper’s voice startled her back to the present.
She smiled pleasantly at Casper in acknowledgement and looked over to Michael who was viewing her worriedly; she flashed him a reassuring look. She knew that he would continue to be concerned over both her well-being and the imagined blame that he felt she held for him. Her reassurances seemed to matter little to him; she had told him over and over again that she did not blame him but he would not swallow it.
She thumped her chest lightly with a clenched fist twice; it was their secret sign and it drew a real smile from him. Michael had played rugby to a decent level in his youth and had been an active amateur when they had first started dating. When she had watched his first game and he had scored a try, he’d looked to her on the sidelines and thumped his chest twice with a clenched fist. After the game, he had explained to her that it meant every time his heart beat, it would now beat twice; once for him and once for her.
They loaded up into Casper’s SUV; the interior was large and roomy like most American vehicles that they had come across so far. The seats were plush and comfortable, and the air conditioning was most welcome. Emily found herself drifting off as Casper’s timbre tones regaled them.
“You are arriving at the perfect time of year; we are only a few months away from our Woodland Festival, the crowning celebration of the year. Eden Gardens, although most folks just refer to it as Eden, was founded a little over two hundred years ago. I know that might not seem impressive to you folks across the pond, but for us, that’s decidedly old indeed. It was founded back in 1808 by the Christian family, I’m proud and humbled to say. They were a logging family heading west looking for new forest areas to process. They found that the vast woodland offered extremely high quality timber, which was naturally renewable at an astoundingly fast rate. The town grew up around the Christian family and those of the workers and soon there was a town developing around the loggers and the mill. N
ormally you would expect an area of such natural resources to be mined dry, but my forefathers were blessed with foresight and only took what could be renewed. As a result, the town thrived and grew; our industry still exists today and would appear to be recession-proof. Here in Eden we are currently at a population of 3,208.”
“That seems a rather precise number of occupants,” Michael interjected, surprised.
“Oh we know every one of our town’s folk, Michael; it’s what makes us special. We have a school, a movie theatre, a downtown shopping area including many national franchise stores, a hospital, and many other amenities. We are a self-contained town and we have a zero crime tolerance approach.”
“Really?” asked Emily, stirring from her drifting. “Zero?”
“Yes, my dear,” Casper answered proudly. “This is the safest place that you will ever live in.”
Michael watched the town approach as Casper spoke. As much as he might wish to embrace the open nature of his American cousins, he was still English and the sense of skepticism was hard to shake. He could tell that Casper spoke with great pride of his ancestors and of Eden, but surely nowhere could be this perfect.
They slowed as they reached what appeared to be the town square. A large expanse of beautifully manicured lawn and shady trees held dozens of picnickers bathing under the hot sun. The stores that lined the square were a multitude of categories: there were restaurants, delis, clothing outlets and antique shops. All were immaculately groomed and maintained, and all had matching awnings. The colours and logos were all different, but the size and shapes were all the same. The pavements were clean with a fresh scrubbed glow and neither Michael nor Emily could spot a piece of litter anywhere; even the trash bins were buffed and shiny.