Leveling 5: When Water Has Overtaken Land: Episode 5: The Road Home (Leveling: Season One)

by H. D. Knightley

  Luna felt a big cry coming. She dropped her plate on the grass by her feet and raced for house.

  A few seconds behind Dilly rushed in. She didn’t say anything but, “Oh sweetie,” and folded Luna up in a hug. “I should have seen her sit beside you, but my focus was elsewhere.”

  Luna sobbed into her shoulder.

  “I know. I know,” Dilly said, in her way, knowing, without needing to be told. Finally, after a few moments, Dilly took Luna’s face in her hands, and wiped tears from her cheeks. “Beckett loves you. He told me so. And he meant it. And he is a man of his word. And Chickie and I love you, and you live here now, this is your home.”

  Chickadee rushed in the house, banging the screen door in her hurry. “What happened — did that girl say something to you?”

  “Not really,” Luna sniveled. “She made it sound as if Beckett has been calling her.”

  “There’s no way.”

  “But how do you know?” Luna's lower lip trembled.

  “Because after Beckett dated her, after she broke his heart, after he was sad about it for a short while, he told me he was glad to be done with her because, and this is a direct quote, ‘she was the least interesting, most boring person in the world.’ That’s why.”

  Luna giggled and sobbed at the same time.

  Chickadee clucked, put her hands on her hips. “Poor, poor, sweet Luna, your tears are staining your beautiful party face. Now I think you need to sit here in your rocking chair, swish back and forth, stare out over the lawn party, and cry over your Beckett. But, and I’m sorry to say this, you can’t. Not while Dryden is here. I can’t allow you to cede Dilly’s poetry slam to that girl and her yammering friends. You must come to the front row, hold Dilly’s hand, eat chocolate-covered strawberries, and applaud all the lame poetry.”

  Dilly said, “I agree with Chickadee, you can’t hide away, you’re too bad ass for that. You should read your poem and—”

  Luna shook her head, her eyes wide. “I can’t stand up in front of everyone, not until Beckett is here, it just feels . . .”

  Dilly appraised her for a moment. “Okay, but you must applaud the loudest, boo the loudest if it’s required.”

  Chickadee put her fingertips under Luna’s chin and pushed it up a bit. “And you must hold your head up and look haughty. That’s my girl. Now I already read my poem. It was beautiful, don’t be sad you missed it Dilly, I will read it to you privately later.”

  Dilly gave her a kiss, took her hand, and led her to the front row. Rebecca, Sarah, and Dan shifted to give them a seat. Rebecca whispered, “I’m glad you’re back.”

  Dryden glanced down at Luna’s hand entwined with Dilly’s and humphed loudly.

  Chickadee’s friend Peter stood and read a poem next. Then another two people, and then Chickadee called Dilly to the stage.

  Dilly said, “I have two. The first I’ve written, called, Simply Buzz.

  Dilly beamed down at Chickadee and recited:

  Flow and fly, righteously zooming, buzzing along with your . . .

  It was a beautiful poem, about equal parts bees and Chickadee in a way that made Luna think, of course, the two were a perfect metaphor one for the other. Dilly had a way with words.

  Chickadee had taken Dilly’s seat and listened to the poem while holding Luna’s hand. After it was over she whispered, “Told you it would be awesome.”

  Luna smiled but deep inside the tears were still coming. She kept watching this thinking — all borrowed, the house, the family, the life.

  Dilly said, after the applause and whistles had died down, “As you have surmised, our beloved nephew Beckett couldn’t be here today. He is off serving the Unified Mainland, against our enemies of men or elements — we aren’t sure which, and he isn’t saying because he doesn’t want to worry us. But we worry anyway, don't we Chickie?"

  "Yes, yes we do." Chickadee gave Luna's hand another pat.

  Dilly continued, "We planned tonight hoping he would be here, so when he called earlier this week, devastating us with the news he wouldn’t make it, he asked me to read something in his stead.”

  Dilly pulled an often-read, dogeared, paperback book from behind her back and thumbed through for a marked page. “My apologies, um, okay, here it is . . .” She folded the cover over. “It’s a Calvin and Hobbes comic. One of Beckett’s favorites. I know it’s hard to see, but up here in this top corner, Hobbes, the tiger, is sitting in the wagon and asks, ‘You really think this will work?’

  "The boy, Calvin, is tied by a rope to the wagon and holding an umbrella. He says, ‘Of course! Let’s go!’

  "The next square, Hobbes is headed downhill, and Calvin is flying. In the next square they narrowly miss this tree trunk.” Dilly pointed at the following square. “Smash! Calvin has hit a tree limb.

  "In the next square, Calvin is being dragged, bonk, bonk, bonk, down a hill."

  Luna had a full cry happening, happiness and sadness rolled up into one. She was using a napkin to try to stanch the flow.

  “Then Hobbes is rattling across a dock. Calvin is upside down, bippity, bippity, bippity. Calvin yells, ‘Look! I’m flying!’ as the wagon dives into the pond. Hobbes flies through the air. Calvin is flying up near the clouds, and in the last square, Hobbes and Calvin are up to their mouths in the creek. Hobbes says, ‘I had my eyes shut, how was it?’ And Calvin says, ‘Great! What a ride! Let’s get some other kids and charge ‘em!’”

  Dilly beamed around the audience, then she cocked her head to the side and spoke to Luna directly. “I didn’t understand why it was this comic, but Beckett told me you would know, Luna. And he said to tell you he loves you, and he’ll be home soon.”

  Luna sobbed, nodded, and rolled up into Chickadee’s arms. The audience clapped and whistled.

  Dilly said, “That’s our evening folks, please stay for refreshments, and, as always, the stage is open for your impromptu talents!” She met Chickadee and Luna on the front row and everyone hugged.

  Rebecca said, “That Dryden girl left, right after Dilly read the comic.”

  “Good riddance," said Chickadee, "Not only did she toy with my Beckett’s heart, but her family’s been coming to our poetry slams for — how long Dilly?”

  “It’s been at least eight years.”

  “And in all that time have they ever read a poem? No, they have not. Not one. Participation is the entire point.”

  Dan held up his hands. “Hey now, we didn’t read poems either!”

  Chickadee threw an arm around his shoulder. “But see I like you, and it was your first one. Next time you’ll participate.” She sized him up. “I picture you as a bawdy limerick sort of guy.”

  He shook his head. “Nope, I save those for in private. In public I’m a gushy love poem kind of guy.” He pulled Sarah close and kissed her on the cheek.

  Rebecca said, “Oh my god, do you see what I have to live with? All this love — blech!”

  Everyone was smiling. The warmth of the night, the crickets, the gathered people, the Calvin and Hobbes comic, Beckett telling her he loved her in front of everyone, the yummy food, it all colluded to bring Luna back to happy. A big happy. The kind of happy that made her want to cry.

  Dilly put an arm around Luna and kissed her on the forehead. “You’re past the halfway mark, now it’s simply waiting for him to come home.”

  Chapter 5

  Beckett stood in a hallway of the temporary bunkhouse with his release forms in his hands. His duty was officially over. Six years done. The past six months of fighting in the East, over. He was done with bombs and shrapnel and explosions and near misses. For good. He had survived. It had gone faster than he thought it would, like he had been in a trance and was waking up now, still alive.

  Now he got to go home. The paperwork said so. His name was written across the top. It said in bold face: Released from Duty. It bore today’s date.

  There was a big problem though. He had to get home.

  He thought there’d be a bus, but appar
ently those only go one way or some other kind of bullshit. The officer that passed Beckett the paperwork seemed to think it was beneath his station to also arrange for Beckett’s ride home. The trains were stopped because of skirmishes around the tracks. The airport was north through heavily bombed areas, a no-man's-land.

  Beckett had been told to sit tight and wait for a ride.

  When he asked how long it might take the answer was, “Weeks, if you’re lucky.”

  He banged the back of his head against the wall. “Damn.”

  He went to the mess hall for lunch — one table, three guys, a basket with “provisions.” Beckett chose the bar that tasted, if you had a good enough imagination, like bacon.

  Turk asked, “Homeward bound?”

  Beckett slammed the paperwork on the table and shook his head.

  “Ah, you my friend, have entered the seventh level of hell. Welcome.”

  “I thought you were injured?”

  “I am.” Turk patted the side of his immobile leg. “Bad enough to get me a ticket home, just no transport. I’m waiting in this bunk, praying it doesn’t explode before I get to leave. If you think about it, it’s one big cosmic fucking joke. The kind that makes you laugh ‘til you cry.”

  “My job was to protect the rail lines and the ports. I guess I should have protected harder because they don't work.”

  “No supplies either. Munitions though, seems those shipments always get through.”

  Beckett ripped open the top of the bar and took a big devouring bite. “If I was an arms dealer I could get through.” The windows rattled with a faraway explosion.

  Turk ducked. “If you were an arms dealer, you wouldn’t get to go home, so yeah, that’s not the best plan. You got a home to go back to?”

  “I do. And a girl.”

  “Phewee, this is gonna be a tough wait for you then. Me, I’m sitting because I can’t walk, can’t do anything but wait. You got two legs. You have to wait and hope they don’t,” he used his fingers to add quotations around, “sign you back up.”

  Beckett clenched his teeth. “They could sign me back up?”

  “They have the enemy at the gates, fucking assholes, and all those body bags to fill." Turk chuckled. "If I were you I’d look busy.”

  Beckett said, “I could walk out. West.”

  “That you could, and you’re a free man. I’d go with you if I could. Take food and water, stay clear of the military roads. It’d be three days before you get to a civilian road. With all the refugee movement you’re sure to get a ride with someone.” Turk stood and pulled crutches to his side, wobbling as he balanced. “And Beckett, a bit of advice. You’ll want to keep the bombs behind you, if they’re in front of you you’re going the wrong way.”

  He turned and lurched to the door. “Hope I don’t see you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah Turk, you too.” Beckett finished his breakfast, ran his hands over the bristle on his head, put his elbows on the table resting his mouth on his fists. He glanced around the room. He could fill a bag with food. Take his hydration pack. He would really need his helmet and a gun, but that was Mainland property. He couldn't risk the trouble; he'd have to go without.

  He would take some food, water, and his personal things. And go. That’s all he needed to do.

  There were maps hanging on the wall, old, antiquated. He located his base on one and followed his finger down a trail to a highway. It would take about three days through the woods. South then west. He took a photo of the map and gathered his things.

  Chapter 6

  Six months had passed.

  Luna’s eyes opened. She glanced around her small room. The light was dim — raining. She shifted all the pillows she slept around and on, flipped the quilt off, and jumped up. She had slept in a simple pair of underwear, tight now that she had curves in every direction. Her stomach protruded, round and tight. Her belly button poked out. Stretch marks spread from her waist down her hips. She tugged on a small t-shirt that stretched over the top of her belly and pulled on a pair of pajama pants Dilly had given her. And tied them under her belly. She ran fingers through her short hair and raced to the kitchen. “Did he come yet?”

  “No dearest, not yet.” Chickadee checked her watch. “Even with the best of intentions, with no setbacks, he still has to ride home. That’s three hours. so he can’t possibly get here before ten.”

  Dilly set a cup of coffee in front of Luna. “That’s if he was still stationed on the coast, and you know I’ve had my doubts, I’m guessing at least six hours.”

  Luna poured milk in the mug and stirred it briskly. “But you’ve both been up for hours.”

  “I’ve been waiting since five-thirty," Chickadee said. "I’m too excited to sleep.”

  “Plus she was too excited to let me sleep.” Dilly dropped into a chair and smiled at Luna.

  Luna smiled back.

  Chickadee beamed at them both.

  They in unison raised their mugs to their lips.

  Chickadee laughed. “So is this what we’re going to do, stare at each other until he gets home?”

  “Nope, we need to get busy,” said Dilly. “A project. Um—”

  “Spring cleaning!” Chickadee disappeared into the laundry room, returning with spray and a stack of towels. “We’ll wash every window. Inside, since it’s raining outside. It will be symbolic since we’re watching for him. Before we blink twice, he’ll be walking up the driveway.” She plopped the supplies on the table. “After breakfast of course.”

  The three of them washed all the windows. They stripped the beds and vacuumed all the floors. At ten o’clock Dilly went to the market for ingredients for Beckett’s homecoming meal. Leaving, she procured a promise if Beckett arrived while she was gone they would convince him to come home a second time so she could experience it too. At one o’clock they ate sandwiches on the porch watching the rain continue to pour.

  Chickadee said, “Any minute now.”

  In the afternoon Luna un-cobwebbed the house, while Chickadee answered some of her business mail, and Dilly laundered the sheets. Around three Luna resorted to leaning over the back of the couch watching out the front living room window. After a little while Dilly leaned beside her.

  Luna asked, “Do you think we have the right day?”

  “It’s the day he told us, months ago. I have it on the calendar.”

  Luna went to look at the calendar for the tenth time that day. Chickadee said, as she walked past, “I just checked it, the date hasn’t changed.”

  “I know, I just have to look.”

  The calendar had a scrawled note in red ink and circled four times: Beckett comes home!!!

  Luna returned to the couch.

  Dilly said, “Any minute now.”

  Around four o’clock, Roscoe called to check if Beckett was home. Then Chickadee’s friend Peter called, and her friend Tina. Luna and Dilly decided to dust all the books.

  Around five o’clock they decided to organize the books according to color. It took a while to map out which color to start with. They had to compensate for the fact that all the tall books were darker, but there were a lot more white books. The project was satisfying, and Luna kept working on it while Dilly made the welcome home dinner, coming in now and then to say, “Brilliant!’ and “Perfect!”

  Chickadee came in when they were about halfway done, hands on her hips. “Hmm, not so sure.”

  Luna faltered in the middle of placing blue books on the blue shelf.

  Dilly said, “But look how pretty!”

  Chickadee humphed. “Aren’t books supposed to be educational and interesting, and aren’t we supposed to be above judging them by their cover and making rainbows with their bindings?”

  Dilly said, “That is all true, but I’ll say it again, look how pretty!”

  “Yes, it’s pretty. Still feels wrong, but then again — " Chickadee stalked to the front door and whisked it open and stared out into the rain. "Where’s that boy?”

  “Exactly,"
said Dilly. "When Luna and I get done arranging the books in this rainbow, we’ll all look at them, Beckett included, and we’ll vote. If the rainbow sucks, Luna will put them back. Right Luna?”

  “I’ll do whatever I need to to get my mind off this — have you tried calling again?”

  Chickadee said, “I just did. Again. Still no answer, same as it was for the last ten weeks. Just a clicking noise. But he said there would be no contact. He told us to sit tight. He would be released on this date, and he’d see us, and I haven’t heard . . .” Her voice trailed off, she twisted the necklace resting on her chest.

  Dilly paused for a moment and then handed Luna three books. “Aqua blue, I think those go over there.”

  At eight o’clock they ate dinner without Beckett. The rain was still pouring down.

  At ten they headed to bed.

  Sometime in the middle of the night Luna finally fell asleep.

  Chapter 7

  Luna slept longer than she intended. Of course, if Beckett was there — or if he had called — she would have been told, but she rushed into the kitchen anyway, hopeful and excited.

  Then she saw the faces of Dilly and Chickadee, and her heart fell into her shoes.

  Dilly spoke immediately, nervously. “If you think about it, we didn’t actually know he would come home the first day. He probably needed to finish up paperwork, get his clearance, arrange for transport home.”

  Luna stood and nodded dumbly.

  “Yes, well, and exactly," said Chickadee. "But since he’s not answering his blasted phone, I need to figure out what time he’s coming home because my heart can’t take eating another of his favorite meals without him here to share it.” She grabbed her keys and headed for the door.

  Dilly asked, “Where are you going, it’s pouring outside!”

  “I plan to go talk to Roscoe and maybe go ask at the market. I also think I should check with Dryden’s family—” She held up her hands even though no one protested against the idea. “Just in case he’s been in touch with them — my apologies Luna”