Transients

by Brayan Branko Bubalo

  “Are we going to have it?”

  “If we don’t mess it up, yes, I believe, we will. We have a good chance, anyhow.”

  “So, are you saying that we should not have laws, but rather customs?”

  “… Yes, I am saying that. Customs are much stronger and easier to respect than laws.”

  “And no politics?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about religion?”

  “That is a big one, isn’t it? As old man Walsh said—God turned his gaze away from us. So, let us wait and see how we shall do. It is not God who created all our problems, but human interpretation of the Divine.”

  “Yeah. Scary thing—religion.”

  “I think we have a pretty good chance of making a decent, if not a perfect society. We are headed in good direction.”

  “What makes you so sure of this, Professor?”

  “These young ones, they are a tabula rasa… a clean plate… whatever we make of them, they will become. If we give them no sense of hatred, envy, greed, rage… they will never know anything but love and compassion.”

  “You truly believe it is possible?”

  “Oh, yes. We’ll raise them to be loving and kind–hearted, free from our old evil ways.”

  “So you believe that people by nature are good; that wrongdoing is the result of social malfunction… conditioning if you will… some kind of manipulation.”

  “Humans are the only living beings that developed the need to intentionally hurt their own. And we have to reverse it. I think it is our ultimate task. To make a leap from a mere Huomo Sapiens to Huomo Emphaticus”

  “Professor, Professor—you are, for one, an idealist.”

  “I don’t think I am the only one. I think we all are a bunch of idealists. How else do you think we made it this far?”

  “Yeah… how did we?”

  They did not talk after that. They simply sat in silence, watching the others, drifting in thought.

  Presley noticed Mr. Walsh sitting near the fire in the far corner. He was sitting in the middle of a crowd of six to eight year–old boys and girls. They were listening attentively and he was deep in his story, gesturing and waving his hands above his head and, occasionally, jumping from his stool, and the kids would scream and laugh and clap their little hands, absorbed and mesmerized by the story.

  “Our old man Walsh is very lively, all of a sudden.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you endow him with one of your magic pills?”

  “I might’ve.”

  “Amazing! He looks ten years younger.”

  “It works, I would say.”

  “Did you tell him?”

  “No. But the old chap is clever. I think he knows that we are not, what you would call, an ordinary bunch of folks, but an unusual one, and that it somehow, rubbed against him.”

  “Ha–hah. Professor… You are nothing but a wit.”

  ***

  A couple days later, Presley noticed all the youngsters were divided up in small groups, surrounding one or two adults, who talked to them about something, causing occasional laughter or cries of excitement amongst them. They listened with utmost attention, bursting out into loud quarrel, putting up their hands, trying to get the attention of the grownups. He spotted Hope amongst the smallest and youngest of the children, dancing and talking loudly, causing toddlers to cry out with laughter and excitement. A curious thing he thought. After a while, the groups dispersed and, the kids were left alone, to run around and play. Hope came and joined him, still smiling.

  “What was that all about?”

  “What was what?”

  “What were you doing with the kids?”

  “Oh that? Yeah, we started a school.”

  “What do you mean you started a school? What kind of school?”

  “The kids are bored, now that we are not on constant move. So, we decided to give them some food for thought, nothing much, really. It’s just to give them a taste. But, over time, we will start teaching them real stuff, once when we reach our destination, wherever it may be, they will learn to read and write, some mathematics and geography, and so on, depending on their age, et cetera.”

  “Whose idea was this?”

  “Professor asked us to do it, naturally. But he said that it was your idea.”

  “My idea? I don’t remember that I suggested anything like it.” Presley grinned. “That man never rests his busy mind. He is dreaming of starting some kind of new society. A new humanity—he calls it.”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Hope concluded.

  “And, how did you get involved?”

  “I was a teacher, in my previous life. And I enjoyed that very much. Are you angry you weren’t told about it?”

  “No! No, I am not angry. I am just not sure if we need it. We are still far, far away from getting settled, if ever we get settled. I just wouldn’t want you all to be disappointed if things didn’t turn out the way we all wish.”

  “No matter—this won’t hurt anyone. And we shall not be disappointed. Whatever happens to us is what we should accept. Not less and not more than that. What can we lose, anyway—our lives?”

  “Well, it would be a shame after all we withstood.”

  “You are the last one I would expect to have such thoughts,” she said, in astonishment. “Are you losing your faith?”

  “I never had one, to start with. I am a soldier. And a soldier does what a soldier is supposed to do. I fight, not thinking about what the future might bring, if I will die or live, win or lose…”

  “But, since there is no need to fight for quite some time, you don’t see what your purpose is… you think you are less useful as a leader?”

  “I never wanted to be a leader, anyway.”

  “You are a leader,” she said folding his arm around her shoulders, grasping him around his waist, nestling in his embrace. There is no one else among us who fits the profile better than you do. War or peace, winter or summer, survival or plane ordinary living—you will be our leader. You can’t escape it.”

  ***

  Later that day he caught a moment when Professor was alone to have a chat with him.

  “Well Professor, you went ahead with your utopia project.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Professor, acting as if bemused.

  “The school” Presley exclaimed.

  “Ah, yes. It’s never too early to start with education. After all, it was your idea.”

  “My idea?”

  “Yes, my friend. You asked what we should teach our youngsters in order to make them good human beings. So yes, yes… we shall teach these little ones everything they need to know, everything we know, that is.”

  “Everything?”

  “Well, you know what I mean. Not exactly everything—the good everything, not the rest of everything. We shall make a new curriculum that suits our needs. It’ll have fewer grades or, no grades at all, and the fewer subjects, for the idea is to free the subject matter from any ideological, political or social nonsense, so our kids, as well as the teachers, don’t have to lose their time and energy on these, but learn what is practical, exact, and useful in any sense.”

  “If, thirty years ago, we had such a school system, maybe we wouldn’t have had all those wars and destruction. Maybe mankind would have had a different fate.”

  “I assure you, they could have done that at any time, but they had a different set of goals and values in mind. They did what they did and they got the results they wanted. But now, we have the opportunity to create a new kind of society, one that is free from all rubbish of the past. For centuries, society made schools, and education in general mandatory. Everyone had to go to school in order to gain, not only the knowledge, but also the status that came with an academic designation. So if you didn’t have a diploma, you were not considered to be qualified for certain jobs, even if you were the best candidate for that kind of work. And it became a way to indoctrinate people, to tweak their morals and make the
m think certain ways and do certain things for the promise of privileges. That was wrong. I think it would be wise if we rid the system of indoctrination and fill it with knowledge instead. We shall adapt the educational system towards the student, not the student towards the system. Some will only learn how to read and write, calculate and do practical things; and others will learn more than that… much, much more, as far as their interests and abilities allow. But they will all still be equal in the sense that they will contribute to society in accordance to their abilities. The whole of society will watch their young and observe special talents in each individual and then, guide that individual in the direction of their interest and ability. This time we are going to make a perfect educational system. Even Alexander the Great will envy us,” said Professor enthusiastically. “But, it’ll take some time. What we can do immediately is start with literacy classes, since learning how to read and write does not require much preparation. For the rest, we will bring together a team of adults, to whom teaching is a natural talent, and create a program based on a premise for which I already have the outline…”

  “Of course you have. Well, if you want to have a school you’ll have a school. Mike! Come over, will you!”

  “Mike, take our friend Professor and a few of his ‘teachers’, and go out with a couple of our men to find a school or library, or a Wal-Mart or Target, and collect as much reading and writing material as you can carry; books, notebooks, pencils, sharpeners, erasers. I don’t think anyone cared to loot that stuff, and if all the schools and Wall-Marts are not burned to the ground, I bet you’ll find plenty of it.”

  “Aye–aye” said Mike, bemused. “Let’s go, Professor.”

  “But, but.”

  “You heard the man. Let’s go.”

  “And Professor, if you find a city library, bring me a copy of Moby Dick. I’d like to read it again. Or maybe, A Hundred Years of Solitude would be more appropriate.”

  ***

  Five days upon their arrival to the city the rain was still falling heavily, giving them no choice but to stay put, not ready to carry on and continuously be cold and wet. Occasionally, they could hear loud cracks and the rumble of thunder. At first, they thought it was the sound of lightning ripping through the sky, but then, they realized there was a river or lake not far away and that the noise was not made by lightning, but was the sound of ice breaking and crushing due to temperature rising and melted water pouring in. Soon water was pouring from everywhere, sometimes forming shallow streams and, on occasion, turning into a swollen river down the wide avenues, depending on the intensity of the rainfall.

  “If this continues much longer, we’ll drown,” said Mike when he came from his watch shift.

  “What do you mean,” asked Presley?

  “This place is becoming an island. When you look at the landscape from our watch post, you can see that more and more ground around us is becoming swamped. Should this continue a couple more days, we’ll be surrounded by water, and we’ll need boats to get out of here. Or, even worse, some sudden flush of floodwater could wipe us out. I wouldn’t send any more of our guys to that solitaire for the watch, because they may not be able to get back here if they don’t know how to swim.”

  “Bugger,” said Presley. “It’s unfortunate. Who thought the warm–up would come so suddenly. I have to think about it. Ok, Mike, send somebody to pull our boys back. We will make a post over here, on top of the roof. I doubt we actually need to keep watch in these conditions, but we have to follow the drill. It’s better we don’t break from old habits that served us well for so long.”

  “I agree.”

  ***

  A week later it was still raining heavily, and a lake of water surrounded their shelter. It was only by chance, or sheer luck, they chose that building for their compound, for nobody could predict such a turn of events. It seemed the rain would never stop and, even though it was much warmer and, for that matter, almost pleasant, they watched with worry as heavy dark clouds rolled in bringing rain causing the water level to continuously rise, threatening to submerge their post. There was nothing to do, except wait for the rain to stop, or at least to subside. Days passed by like this and a great boredom grew among them. Even the little ones got tired of their games, and those involved in organizing classes lost their enthusiasm.

  Presley mainly worried about the time lost and the supplies spent, in his opinion, in vain, for they were eating all their food, without making any progress in moving South, and had no opportunity to kill some game and spare their conserved rations. They had nothing to do but sit tight for almost two full weeks, as their supplies ran thinner. He was hardly able to hide his anxiety, and he did not see how the situation could be resolved. They were trapped. If the rain did not stop very soon, allowing the water to reside, so they could be on the move again, they would eventually spend all their food and start suffering from hunger. He knew they had to do something and, quickly, in the next couple of days anyway, if they wanted to survive. He contemplated getting back on the road even while it still rained. He knew he would have to make that call. He wondered how deep the water surrounding them was. Would they be able to walk through it to the higher grounds with their horses, wagons and buggies, and all the little ones? He didn’t like the nagging feeling that there was nothing they could do, that they were stuck.

  He climbed up to the roof, surveying the terrain around the building, trying to determine if there was a dry path leading to the road, and how far it was to the nearest high point. The fence posts along the northern wall of the building were submerged to near half their height, about four to five feet, he figured. And further away they sunk even deeper. On the south side there was a parking lot and he tried to find some point of reference to determine the depth. He saw a line of light posts, and he realized that he could see them all the way out of the parking lot, rising out of the water in sequence, which suggested the water was getting shallower further away from the building. He calculated that the deepest point must be around three to four feet and it gave him some hope that they may be able to get through.

  “Hey Rodney, go down and find Mike and Professor and bring them over,” he told the man on watch. He looked up to the sky. The clouds seemed to be getting thinner and it gave him some hope that the rain would eventually stop. He wanted to get moving as soon as possible. That was the matter of survival, he was certain. He was soaking wet, but he didn’t care.

  “Hey chief. You asked for us?” said Mike.

  Presley waited for them to come to the edge of the building. When Mike and Professor Tagore stood next to him, he pointed to the high ground a few hundred yards away.

  “It’s time to get moving, raining or not,” he said. “We can’t afford to sit on our hands any longer. I don’t know what I was thinking allowing this to happen. We were not afraid of the deep freeze, the ice storms or the Pongos, and yet, I accepted the notion that a little rain would do us harm. We are trapped, damn it! And, if we stay just a little while longer, we will be good as dead. We have to get going while this pond is still shallow enough to cross it. What do you think?”

  “Yeah,” Mike said. “Our supplies are running out and, at this rate, we won’t have anything but the dirt on the ground to eat.”

  “What do you think Professor?”

  “I am not sure… It’s your call, I think. The rain could stop in an hour, or continue falling for days… hard to tell, either way… It’s not that cold any more, but if it continues raining like this, I am not sure the little ones would be able to endure being wet all the time. We don’t know if we’ll be able to find dry shelter when we need one. On the other hand, if we stay put, two things could happen: either the rain would cease in a few more days, letting us leave here in much more favourable conditions, or if it continues, we will start to suffer from a food shortage.”

  “Professor, we know all that. Do you have any suggestion about what we should do?” said Presley, almost annoyed by Professor’s pointless deduction a
nd his calm posture.

  “I cannot predict the future, my boy. It’s your call, I’m afraid.”

  “Mike?”

  “It’s a tough one, chief. I guess we are taking our chances either way. But I would rather get moving than sit here feeling helpless.”

  “That’s exactly my point. Tomorrow morning, raining or not, we are on our way. Let’s get our people ready.”

  Breaking the news to the crowd was not something Presley looked forward to. Even though everyone knew that, at some point, this would have to happen, they were waiting to hear it from their leaders. A childish concept, he thought, but Presley knew it was nothing but typical conduct of the crowd: Let someone else make the decision and everything that followed as a consequence would not be of their making. He did not mind it. He knew that even if tomorrow all of them drowned, or died from pneumonia, nobody would blame him. This was why any crowd needed a leader, the one who knew when there was a need to be resolute and bold. And he was proud of them all; for he knew they were ready to endure whatever hardships awaited them and do everything they could to survive. Only this time it was not the Pongos or some violent gang they had to face. This time it was a pure element, nature itself, and nature had no mind or will of its own, but was indifferent to human needs and wishes, neither cruel or evil, aware of its or their own existence. Presley was afraid since there was no enemy in this battle, and he was not used to fighting something he could not fathom or regard as an adversary, like the ice storms, or the volcano, or the earthquakes, or the white plague. He did not have means of waging that battle, either winning or losing, for there was no foe. Was that the reason they used to put God in the equation, he thought? Should he say a prayer? He thought he would if he knew any. His only allay that did not leave him yet was hope. And he did not like it.

  Next morning, everything was ready long before daybreak. Folks were excited and a little frightened at the same time. It was again like the time they decided to cross the frozen lake. Only this time, the water was liquid and cold and they didn’t know if there were any deep spots. Most of them did not know how to swim. Presley asked for volunteers who would test the route. Two men stepped forward; Peter and Stanley, the fellows from Zak’s gang. Presley was glad that those two turned out to be an asset. They never hesitated to show their gratitude and readiness to be useful. They took off their clothes and folded them in small bundles tied up with their belts. They fastened their guns and their boots on top of their packs and bravely stepped into the chilly water. They followed the light posts as Presley suggested, treading through water that reached their rib cages, but after a while they turned slightly to the right and the water level dropped below their knees. They stopped, and one of them went back towards the building, testing the new route. It turned out the pond was shallower then they thought. He signalled towards Presley showing him the path. Then the man went back to his partner and they continued. They made it all the way across the parking lot in less than ten minutes, raising their hands and waving when they reached the other side. Then, one of them turned around and came all the way back.