* * *
Every evening, after the adults had finished dinner, Amy and her family had their private time in the bigger bedroom, the one shared by her parents. They sat on the floor by the bed in a tight circle, holding hands. Each would tell about one thing that had happened to them, and they would go around and around until there was nothing left to tell.
Her mother read a letter from Gram. Susan’s parents had returned the lake house, living off the grid, but Gramp walked down to the local post office once a week. Someday, the government promised, the phones would be back. Not cellular, of course. Not at first. Amy had been looking forward to her first cell phone right before The Brightness. Her parents, she knew, remembered the older phone system, and from what they described—wires and dials, and being trapped in the same room as the phone outlet— it was awful. But anything would be better than the non-existent system they had now.
After the letter had been read, Susan squeezed Amy’s hand. Amy took a deep breath.
“Justin is walking me to the Reading on Friday.”
Paul looked puzzled. “Why would you need anyone to walk you? It’s perfectly safe. And besides, we’re going to the Reading. Don’t you usually walk with us?’”
“Paul,” Susan said carefully, “think about this.”
He suddenly grinned. “Well, well, well.”
“Dad,” Amy pleaded, “don’t start.”
“Don’t start what?” Paul said.
“Whatever you do,” Amy hissed at him, “don’t say anything about this to Justin’s parents. Or anyone else. It’s not a big deal, okay?”
Paul shrugged. “Okay. But if it’s not a big deal, why can’t I say anything?”
“Paul,” Susan said, her voice sharper. “We need to respect Amy’s wishes.”
Paul rolled his eyes. “Okay. No teasing. “ He leaned over and kissed Amy’s cheek. “I promise.”
“Justin is a very nice young man,” Susan said. “Don’t you think so, Matt?”
Matt nodded.
Amy squeezed her dad’s hand. Paul looked suddenly serious.
“Someone from Rainbow talked to me today.”
Amy’s jerked her head around to stare at her father.
Rainbow was one of the hundreds of groups that had sprung up after The Brightness. Most of those groups had only lasted a few months, but Rainbow had not just endured, it had grown stronger. The members believed that The Brightness was an extraordinary celestial event, but was in no way supernatural. Just as a rainbow had been interpreted as a sign from the gods in ancient times, this group believed that there was a purely scientific explanation for what happened, but that scientists did not have the knowledge needed to know what that explanation was.
Rainbow also believed that its members should return to the urban centers and rebuild the cities according to a master plan that included all solar or wind power, with very little reliance on technology. If The Brightness had happened once, it would most certainly happen again, and if there was the same reaction a second time, self-sustainability was the safest course of action going forward.
“What did they want?” Susan asked.
“Paul shrugged. ‘They said they could use my skills, and asked if I was interested in going north.”
Paul had been an architect before The Brightness, a very successful and well—known architect who championed green living. Very few people worked at the same jobs they had before The Brightness. Doctors and nurses, of course, as well as engineers and those who worked in the building trades. Everyone worked for the government, though. There was very little private enterprise, and the government wasn’t interested in architects who designed eco-friendly housing. Paul worked one of the road crews, finding and leveling destroyed homes, searching for usable objects.
Susan nodded. “It makes sense for them to want you. What do you think, Amy?”
Amy bit her lip. She had friends now, and was feeling that life was bearable again. And Justin had asked to walk her to the Reading. She didn’t want to go somewhere to start over. But going north…there were better schools, she’d heard. Electricity was restored to a point that non—essential appliances like televisions and dishwashers could be used. Small, privately owned manufacturing plants had sprung up, making new clothes, and luxury items.
She lifted her shoulders, then let them drop. “If you think that’s best, Dad, I say we should go for it.”
Susan turned to her son. “Matt, what about you?”
Matt nodded.
“Well, Paul,” Susan said. “It’s certainly something to think about.”
“Yes,” Paul said, and squeezed Matt’s hand.
Matt closed his eyes and leaned forward for a few seconds. When he opened his eyes, he looked around expectantly.
Susan shook her head. “I’m sorry, darling, “ she said, as she said every night. “I didn’t hear you.”
Matt shrugged, and squeezed his mother’s hand.
When the family was done, Amy went out and finished her homework on the kitchen table. The kitchen was the only common area besides the screened porch, and now the weather was getting cool. Amy dreaded the winter. True, the temperature rarely got to freezing, but everyone had to stay inside. Only one light was allowed in each room, with a single 60—watt bulb. In the cold months, it seemed they all lived in cramped semi-darkness.
Justin was there, reading, and he flashed her a smile. Something in her stomach tightened. He didn’t speak to her—he rarely did— but she felt a connection. They were going to the Reading on Friday. Together.
When the community first formed, there was no television, of course, and radio was only broadcasting thirty minutes a day, all news. So Friday evenings, everyone gathered at the school, and one of the adults would read from a precious, salvaged book. Over the months and years, the entertainment changed. Sometimes, people sang. Some recited poetry. This Friday there was a play, a comedy. It wasn’t fully performed, of course. There wasn’t the time to put something like that together. But all the different parts were read to the audience. It was the best entertainment around, and often people from other communities would walk miles to attend.
Friday after dinner, Amy stood in the center of her room in tears. Her very first date, and she had nothing special to wear. All her clothes had been handed down to her. Justin had seen her in every outfit she owned. Marianna offered to lend her something, but Justin would have seen that as well.
“But, he won’t have seen it on you,” Marianna said, trying to make Amy feel better.
Amy just shook her head, dejected. “I wish I had something pretty,” she said softly.
There was a knock on the door, and her mother stuck her head around the doorframe. “Can I come in?”
Amy nodded, and her mother came in, shutting the door behind her. “I have something for you,” she said, and drew out of her pocket a small bundle of brilliant red.
“Here.” Susan shook it, and a long scarf unfurled, and now Amy could see thin gold stripes woven into the red. Amy caught her breath. It was beautiful.
Susan stepped forward and wrapped the scarf a few times around Amy’s neck, then tied a casual knot. She reached out and fluffed her daughter’s hair. Amy looked in the mirror again.
“Where did this come from?” she asked. The red brought out the color in her cheeks, and made her eyes sparkle.
Susan watched her daughter and sighed. “I bought it right before The Brightness. It was in the bottom of my purse when we went up to Gram’s. I’d forgotten all about it, and when I found it again, I wanted to save it for something special.” She smiled. “Have a good time tonight.” She backed out of the room and shut the door behind her.
Marianna jumped up and touched the scarf. “I bet it’s silk, “ she said.
Amy smiled. “It feels wonderful.”
She met Justin on the front step. If he noticed her beautiful scarf, he never said, but it didn’t matter. Amy felt happy and excited. They talked all the way to school, everyda
y kinds of things, exchanging words with their neighbors. The streets were full. Everyone went to the Readings. It was all there was to enjoy at the end of the week.
They sat close together during the play. By now, the group of actors who regularly appeared had gotten quite good, and everyone laughed and applauded. Afterwards, there was coffee and cakes, and people who saw each other almost every day, but never really exchanged more than a few words, could talk together. Amy saw her parents in deep conversation with an older couple who lived up by the water tower. Were they the ones from Rainbow?
“We may be going north,” Amy said suddenly, watching her father and mother.
“What? Why?”
“Rainbow approached my dad.”
“Whoa. Really? What did your dad do?”
“He was an architect,” Amy told him.
Justin nodded thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t mind going north and living in one of their cities,” he said at last. “Of all the crazy groups out there, at least Rainbow has a plan.”
“I like it here,” Amy said quietly. “I feel safe here.”
“You’d be safer in a Rainbow city,” Justin told her. “And there are more doctors up north. For Matt.”
Amy nodded. “Yes.” She turned to him and grinned. “What does JamButt say about Rainbow?”
Justin laughed. “JamButt thinks Rainbow is a step above the Satanists.”
She lowered her voice. “Is that what Steff is? A Satanist?”
Justin shrugged. “I’m not sure. But she’s pretty hardcore about there not being a God anymore.”
Amy sighed. “I still want to believe that there’s someone out there looking out for us.”
Justin sat quietly for a long time. “Me too.”
She glanced at him. “So, how are you going to keep me safe?”
“What? Oh, that’s right.” He furrowed his brow, looking very serious for several seconds, then grinned. “Got it.”
“Yeah? Okay, how?”
He leaned in and kissed her. Right on the lips. In front of anyone who happened to be looking their way.
And she kissed him back, thinking that if The Brightness ever did come again, at least she’d had this moment.
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