The New World: A Step Backward

by Skrzynski, Andy

  A sharp knock startled him. Who could that be?

  Thoruk slogged to the door and cracked it open, peering through the slit. Whose horse and sleigh is that? Peeking around the edge, he surveyed the visitor from foot to head. Charilulka. What's Storm's cousin doing here? He sighed. "Hello?"

  Clinging to a black iron pot, she flashed her bright white teeth. "Good morning."

  Smacked by panic, he held his breath and looked behind him. Shivers, this place is a disaster — just like Intellulka's! Glancing back at her, he squished his brow. "Can I help you?"

  "I brought you some hot chicken noodle soup for lunch." She grinned. "It's real heavy."

  He drew a deep breath of the cool air, shut his eyes, and slowly opened the door. Blazes, what will she think?

  Charilulka stepped in and continued past him, straight to the kitchen without a word.

  Thoruk remained fixed, mouth agape. Didn't she see the mess?

  Scanning the counters, then the stove, the determined woman set the kettle on the sole location absent a dirty dish. "It seems you saved a spot just for the soup."

  Smiling but void any hint of shock, the unexpected guest removed her cougar hide coat. She held it out. "Would you be a sweetheart and hang this up for me, please. I'll get lunch ready." Her pink, wool sweater certainly didn't obscure her voluptuous figure.

  As fascination swelled, he tracked her every movement, noticing the dark, auburn hair accented by a few light, tan strands. Extending to the small of her back, the wavy mane floated with the slightest motion of her head.

  Beautiful — she's an angel. He recalled seeing her several times in the village, mostly in church, but never really "looked" at her. Warmth flashed across his face and neck as his heart thumped like a thunderous drum. Placing a palm on his chest, he prayed she couldn't hear it.

  Charilulka opened a cupboard door, then another. "Where are your bowls?"

  Oh no, I think I used the last one yesterday. He searched the shelf where he usually kept them. Nope — can it get any worse? He spun toward her, grinning. "Uh, apparently I've run out of bowls. Let me wash a couple." Without moving his head, his gaze turned to the sink.

  "I'll get it." Lightning-fast, the gorgeous visitor slid her sleeves to her elbows and snatched the dishrag sitting on the ledge. Smelling the stiff cloth, she jerked back and set it aside. "Do you have a fresh one?"

  While the newfound maid started to clear the sink, Thoruk retrieved the last clean cloth in the kitchen. This has got to be the most embarrassing moment of my life. He handed her a white sock with not one, but three holes.

  Humming, his attractive guest cleaned a stack of dishes as if everything was normal.

  Curiosity overwhelmed him. "Did Storm send you to help me?"

  "Nope."

  What kind of answer is that? Not a smidgen of his thirst for truth was satisfied by such a short response. He continued his pursuit from a different angle. "Did Storm tell you I was sick or dying?"

  She chuckled. "No."

  Thoruk grew increasingly irked at getting nowhere with his interrogation. "Okay, why are you here?"

  "I wanted to help you." Charilulka never turned, just kept her back to him.

  He huffed and paced.

  Rinsing the dishes, she looked around the kitchen. "I'm sorry, but do you have a towel?"

  For the first time in weeks, maybe months, he smiled. "Yes, I saw two this morning. Let me get one."

  As she cleared the table, he ran toward the bathroom. After a successful search, he returned. "Here, see." He extended a blue, cotton face towel.

  The stunning cook fluttered her lashes and laughed. "I'm glad I didn't have to use your last one. Go on and sit down while I pour some soup." She grabbed a ladle and lifted the lid. A puff of steam drifted to the ceiling.

  As she filled the bowls, Thoruk snuck a look at her again. She's a savior — long, dark hair and deep brown eyes — so different from Mercivil — lots of curves, especially up top.

  Whirling, she strolled to the dining room. He lowered his gaze, hoping she hadn't noticed his stare. She smiled again, parting her lips.

  He caught himself gawking and blinked. Instinctively, he smiled in return, feeling more at ease and warmer with each passing second.

  More Than a Year Later:

  April 11, 2077 ~ 3:30 pm

  With his girlfriend's urging, after Miss Gracivil missed Sunday's service earlier that morning, Stormulka drove his sleigh to check on her. After a lengthy courtship, Blessivil, who bore a remarkable family resemblance to her cousin, Mercivil, with her long, blond hair and sky-blue eyes, spent most of her time by Stormulka's side, and today was no exception.

  Since Miss Gracivil had been downtrodden for months, he and Blessivil brought firewood, supplies, and a piping-hot meal to share with her, a ritual they repeated every couple of weeks since her daughter's departure. In his pocket, Stormulka kept a deck of cards in case Mercivil's mom wanted to play three-handed Pinochle — her favorite.

  Upon arrival, he noticed a foot-high pile of snow across the porch. He scratched his head. Nobody has been in or out of the front entrance in awhile. He knocked, but there was no answer. Rapping the oak door again, he slowly opened it. "Hello, it's Storm and Blessivil. Anybody home?" Still no word.

  He entered, stomped his caribou hide boots on the rug, and set a kettle on a small, nearby stand. Likewise, his partner placed a basket of biscuits and bottle of milk next to the stew.

  Random pops filtered in from the next room. Stormulka carefully pulled on Blessivil's hand, leading her toward the noise.

  When he turned the corner he stopped short. "Miss Gracivil?" Without a hint of movement, she sat staring into the crackling flames as if frozen in time. She seems deaf or oblivious to everything around — worse than the other day.

  He stepped forward in her direction. Fluf, lying on the far side away from the fire, lifted her snout and snarled, curling her lip.

  Stormulka gingerly retreated and raised his palm. "Calm down Fluf, it's just us, Stormy boy and Blessivil." The gesture soothed the suspicious polar bear, but her eyes tracked every move he made. He glanced at his partner. "I don't like this. They're both getting bad."

  "I agree. The last time I was here to help Miss Gracivil she had trouble remembering who I was. And when I tried to brush Fluf's fur, she growled and wouldn't let me touch her." Blessivil tiptoed behind Mercivil's mother and gently placed her arm around the shoulder of the mesmerized lady, startling her.

  Turning toward the visitor, her voice cracked as her lower lip trembled. "Oh, hello." She spun back around and stared into the hearth, lost in the abyss of the flickering flames once more.

  His caring partner walked around the cowhide chair and crouched before the feeble woman, tenderly clutching her hands. "Hi, Miss Gracivil."

  The words broke the trance and she tilted her head. "Wow, you're so beautiful. Are you Mercy's friend?"

  Tears formed in Blessivil's eyes. From the appearance of her thinning body and smudged clothing, it was clear the frail lady had not taken care of herself since the last visit and her memory seemed to be fading further. Blessivil looked at Stormulka who joined her. "We can't leave her here anymore."

  Nodding, he helped the confused woman to her feet. "Why don't you come with me and we'll enjoy some stew? I know you love venison, carrots, and onions. We also brought delicious, fluffy biscuits — the ones you like so much."

  Blessivil smiled. "You two eat and I'll pack her belongings to take home with me, as we previously discussed. With my large family there will always be someone to keep an eye on her. You'll have to care for Fluf."

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Homecoming

  June 29, 2077 ~ 4:30 pm

  More than 20 months had passed since Mercivil and Intellulka departed for Texas. After Thoruk sent a rider to find and inform Mercivil about her mom's dementia and deteriorating condition, she and her fiancé, Drew, took turns driving on their long trek back to Ukkiville. Midnight and Angelina to
wed Intellulka's weathered wagon.

  Drowning in a sea of "what-ifs," Mercivil sat quietly next to her clean-shaven, traveling companion, whose short, auburn hair was cut just above the ears. I miss Mom and Fluf so much, I can't wait to get back home. Throughout the trip a dull pain tortured her heart.

  As she neared her property, she spotted Fluf sprawled at the foot of the porch steps. Whiskers romped along the shoreline. Matted and covered in burs, the bear's dirty, gray fur reflected weeks of neglect.

  Suddenly, her faithful protector leapt to her hind paws and roared so loud the reverberation terrified Whiskers, who scurried, tumbled, then froze in place. Appearing refreshed, Fluf raced toward her like a lost kitten to her mother.

  Mercivil handed the reins to Drew, jumped from the buckboard, and sprinted toward her long-lost playmate. Meeting halfway, they tackled each other, wrestling as if they were kids.

  After the frolic subsided, she grabbed Fluf around the neck and shook the fur ball's snout. "I missed you so much. You're way too skinny. I need to fatten you up. Whoa." She pushed her back. "A bath is in order too. You smell pretty ripe."

  The bear cocked her head and drooled.

  Tears streamed down Mercivil's face as she turned to her fiancé who looked amused from his perch on the wagon. She motioned him to come. "Drew, this is my wonderful Fluf."

  He hopped off the buckboard but when his feet hit the ground, the wary creature growled.

  Whirling, Mercivil glared at her over-protective bear and communicated with her thoughts. He's my friend. Stop it! Be nice.

  The ruffled guardian relaxed and slouched on her haunches.

  The cautious professor, who normally worked behind a desk back home at Baylor University, approached, gingerly extending his hand toward her nose.

  She snarled again, baring her fangs. Mercivil scowled. "Fluf! Cut it out!" She took her fiancé's hand and guided it behind her pet's ear, gently rubbing it.

  Still unsure, the bear's stare traced his hand's movement, but she remained silent. Drew's eyes were the size of plums.

  Rising, Mercivil spun toward the front porch to look for any sign of her mom. Her stomach churned. Is Mom still home or is she staying somewhere else? I hope she's okay. She grasped the horse's harness, guiding the wagon toward the cabin.

  When she reached the steps, she glanced at Drew. "Stay here while I check it out."

  She quietly opened the door. "Mom, it's Mercy. I'm home." The silence pricked her heart, and she quickly scampered from one room to another. Someone's cleaned the place — everything seems okay.

  Mercivil hurried outside. "She's not here; she's probably at Storm's. Let's go."

  Fifteen Minutes Later

  When they arrived at Stormulka's home, Mercivil knocked. The handle turned and the door slowly swung open, creaking. Suddenly, it flew wide, crashing into the wall.

  "It's Mercy!" Stormulka lunged and lifted her off the ground, swinging her around the porch. He set her down and noticed the man next to her. Brow raised, he stood back. "Who is this? Where's Intellulka?"

  Emerging from the shadow inside the cabin, Thoruk warily stepped onto the porch; his glance darted from Mercivil, then to her thin, but lightly-muscled, fellow traveler.

  She cleared her throat, choking on a lump the size of a hardboiled egg as her eyes flooded. "I hate to have to tell you, but five weeks ago our dear professor passed away. The trip to Texas was too much, and his health just got worse over time. He didn't want you guys worrying and made me promise not to send word back home."

  Thoruk stared straight ahead, motionless. Stormulka blinked uncontrollably as tears moistened his eyes.

  Mercivil hugged him. I can't ever remember Storm crying. "I know, it hurts a lot." She rocked him a bit, and after awhile, through the sniffles, glanced up. "Is Mom here?"

  Gingerly shuffling to the entrance, Blessivil and Charilulka supported her mother between them.

  She's so thin — she looks so old. Tears gushed down Mercivil's cheeks. "Mom — I'm so sorry." Sobbing, she held her mother's trembling hand.

  Her frail mother smiled. "Dear girl, don't be sad. I have lots of friends." She nodded at Blessivil and Charilulka. "You're so familiar. Are you my friend too?"

  The question was a dagger to the heart; Mercivil slumped in agony. Bawling, she slowly shook her head.

  Her mother bent forward and kissed her hair. "Please don't cry." She gently clutched Mercivil under the arm, trying to lift her. "Come inside and tell me about yourself."

  Thoruk and Drew stooped to each side of Mercivil, sneaking glimpses at one another while they helped her up. The traveling companion broke the ice with his telltale Texas accent. "Hi, I'm Mercy's fiancé, Drew."

  Her lifelong friend grinned. "I'm Thoruk, the brother."

  Mercivil peered into Thoruk's eyes but neither spoke. She didn't know what to say. He's lost some weight.

  With her friends, she retreated into the cabin and sat in the living room, sharing stories of the past months. Out of nowhere, her mother leaned toward her and gawked. "Mercy! When did you get here?"

  The sudden recognition surprised Mercivil as she looked at the others who shrugged. "I arrived a little while ago. I'm so glad to be home — with you." She leaned over and hugged her mom, then tenderly coaxed her to rise. "Mom, I want you to meet my fiancé, Drew. I know you'll grow to love him too." Miss Gracivil reached for Drew and hugged him. "It's nice to meet you. You're such a handsome, young man."

  He smiled. "I'm so glad to meet you; Mercy's told me so much about you. Now I know where your daughter got her beauty. But I know you two need to catch up, since she's been away for awhile." He winked at Mercivil.

  She and her mother went out to the porch and enjoyed the evening, relating their experiences over the last couple of years. Her mother grabbed her arm. "Mercy, I'm so sorry for not telling you about your father earlier."

  Mercivil patted her hand. "Shhh, that's over. We don't need to discuss that again. I just want you to know that I love you more than ever, and I'll never leave you." She smiled and carefully hugged her mom, gently rocking back and forth.

  Blessivil walked onto the deck and placed two plates, heaped with thick chicken and dumplings, on a small table sitting beside them.

  "Thank you." Mercivil drew a deep breath. "Mmm, doesn't that smell wonderful?"

  "It sure does." While nibbling a bite here and there, her mother shared bits and pieces of the story behind her chance meeting with Odinuk and the one and only miraculous night spent between them. Her eyes sparkled more with each passing word.

  A calming peace settled Mercivil's soul as the muscles throughout her body relaxed. Never have we shared a closer moment than this.

  Drew appeared near the front door. "It's getting very late."

  Mercivil winked. "Dear, why don't you go to bed? I want to chat with Mom a bit longer, then I'll sleep with her tonight."

  Miss Gracivil smiled. "I'd love that. We haven't slept together since you were a child."

  Another hour passed before she and her mother finally went to bed. Laying on her back, Mercivil stared into the dark. Lord, thank you for helping me patch things up with Mom. Please help us be happy once again — that goes for Thoruk and Stormy as well. She rolled over and hugged her mother, who inched nearer and returned a squeeze as sleep took hold.

  The Next Morning ~ 7:05 am

  Seeping through the lime and pale blue drapes, the dawn's light awoke Mercivil. She squinted and peeked at her mom. She jerked up. Something's wrong!

  Her mother's arm remained wrapped around Mercivil's waist and while a smile still filled her mom's face, her complexion was ashen. Gasping, Mercivil bent over and reached for her mother's hand. It was cold — stiff.

  Pain shot through her body, then numbness. Struggling for air, a whir of confusion ransacked her emotions. She bit her lip and shuddered. I love you so much. She cradled her mom and tenderly kissed her forehead. Lord, why now?

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Three Times
Two Makes Six

  September, 2077 ~ 8:47 am

  The trees surrounding Ukkiville trumpeted autumn's early pallet of brilliant colors. Sprawled across a bed of leaves under his favorite rendezvous oak, Thoruk stretched as he waited for his lifelong friends. It feels great to be running again. In a way, I'm glad our future spouses don't like to jog. The three of us can catch up on old times.

  Enjoying the cool air, he continued to stretch as he twisted around to look for his buddies. I hope they didn't forget. Just when that thought crossed his mind, he heard voices in the distance. While Mercivil, Stormulka, and Fluf approached, Thoruk sat up. "Well, good afternoon. Did you have trouble waking up this morning?"

  "Ha, ha." Mercivil grinned. "We're not that late."

  Stormulka plopped on the ground nearby. "It's been awhile so I need to get used to this routine again. Besides, I figured Your Majesty required additional time to work out the kinks and creaks in your dilapidated bones, since you're much more aged than we are."

  Thoruk hopped to his feet. "I don't need any longer than you. I'm raring to go."

  Rising, Stormulka bent forward and grabbed his toes to stretch his hamstrings. "Hold on to your britches Eager Beaver. We'll be ready in a snap. You better not rush Princess or she'll pull a calf muscle trying to keep up."

  As the words escaped his mouth, Fluf lumbered over and goosed him. He turned toward Mercivil, smiled, and shook his head. "Just like old times."

  Ten Months Later: July 23, 2078 ~ 1:00 pm

  On this special day, the Lake of Dreams glistened with an unusual, deep, steel-blue hue, offering a beautiful backdrop to the ceremony underway on the shore. Practically all of Ukkiville and many neighbors from the surrounding villages gathered to witness the spectacular event.

  Thoruk smiled as he gazed into Charilulka's glistening eyes. Her face glowed with love. Gently squeezing her trembling fingers, he heard the pastor's words. "I now pronounce you man and wife."