Untitled Agenda 21 Sequel (9781476746852) (30 page)

“That's no reason to be angry with Micah.”

“I'm not angry with Micah.” He put Elsa down, and held her hands so she was standing. She bounced up and down, then took tiny, tentative steps, walking on the balls of her feet. It wouldn't be long before she could walk on her own.

“You sounded angry and he sensed it. He was trying to please you and all you did was bark orders at him. Didn't you see the hurt look on his face?”

“All right, already. I was too hard on him. I'll apologize when he comes back.” David said. “But can't you see the worried look on mine?” He turned to me, and, indeed, there was a tension around his eyes, the corners of his mouth turned down. He picked Elsa up again.

“Yes, I see it.”

He leaned against me, with Elsa sandwiched between us.

“I have to protect you.”

“And you are. You have been.”

“I can't stop thinking about the guards at the commune.”

“Then we should leave this place. I want to live away from all of this, from hiding in a cave, afraid of every shadow, every sound. When can we leave?”

Before David could answer me, George reemerged. David and I stayed close together, Elsa between us.

“I couldn't sleep,” George said. “My body feels like I should be doing something. Picking crops or something. I'm not used to being idle and not used to walking without a leg iron.” He extended his leg and I could see the red rawness of his skin where the ankle bracelet had rubbed.

“Paul can help that heal,” I said. “He healed David's arm with honey.”

Before we had to pass any more time in awkward conversation, Ingrid and Micah came back with arms full of twigs.

“Hi, Micah,” murmured David. “Sorry I was so grumpy earlier. Give me a hug.” Micah ran to David and wrapped his arms around him, smiling and blushing.

“Oh, good, you're still here,” Ingrid said to George. “Pretty soon you can get the turtle out of the shell and we'll all have soup.”

David snatched up an empty bucket. “I'll get more water,” he said. “You'll need it for the soup.” He started off alone.

“Wait. Elsa and I will go with you.” I scrambled after him. Without speaking, we went to the stream. When we got there, David made no motion to fill the bucket. Instead, he sat, staring at the water for a few minutes.

I watched Elsa pull up some grass and put it in her mouth. I ran my hand over her hair. There had to be an answer to all of this. What seemed so complicated had to be untangled, made simple. And I knew in a flash what the solution was.

“Let him stay.”

“What? I can't believe you're saying that.”

“Wait. Hear me out, please. He can be here for Paul and Ingrid. That will make it easier for us to leave. We won't feel guilty about leaving them.”

I clapped my hands together. Elsa imitated me, clapping her small hands together.

“We'll talk to him about staying here,” I said. “They'll keep him well hidden.”

David looked at me with the first smile I had seen since George arrived. “You are amazing,” he said. “I am so proud of you.” He leaned over and gave me a soft, tender kiss.

Then I saw him. A man in an Enforcer's uniform, floating downstream, moving only as the current moved him.

The body bumped into the bank and rolled over. The face was
bloated, bruised, and chewed away by who knows what. He was unrecognizable. His eyes were open, and vacant, but seemed to stare at me.

David gasped, his eyes wide, his mouth open. I snatched up Elsa, held her close to me, both of my arms around her like a shield.

“That's an Enforcer! A dead Enforcer!” David said, his voice gray and gravelly, hoarse with fear.

“David,” I looked at him with pleading eyes, “why was an Enforcer here in the Human Free Zone? How close was he to us before he drowned? How did he drown? And are there others?”

David looked around wildly, as though teams of Enforcers could appear from anywhere at any time.

“There must be others. An Enforcer wouldn't be alone out here. We need to get away.” I was begging him.

He nodded in agreement, his face grim.

The body rolled over again and floated away, disappearing around a bend in the river.

But the image would never disappear from my memory.

P
aul was awake and outside, sitting in deep shade with George, when Emmeline and David got back to the cave. He was working on the spear for Micah, carefully cutting a slit in the tip of the repurposed peg.

“I'm rested,” Paul said, as they approached. “Figured I'd get this spear finished today. George is going to clean the turtle. Bit of hard shell from the belly of the turtle will make a fine point on this. I'll stick the shell in, then soak the whole thing in water so the wood swells up and holds the tip tight and firm.”

“Where's Micah?” Emmeline asked, looking around nervously. Her hands were shaking.

“Oh, he and Ingrid finished gathering greens and things for the soup.” Paul pointed to a pile of plants near the cave entrance. “Now they're out looking for firewood.”

She handed Elsa to David and went to the tree line, looking for Micah.

George was looking at Elsa with a gentle smile on his face. David knew Emmy was right. George was a good man.

“Would you like to hold her before Emmy puts her down for a nap?”
David asked him. He felt a burning desire to be kind to this man who had risked so much for his Emmy.

Gratefully George held his arms out and David handed Elsa to him. He held her gingerly, as if afraid she might break. Elsa studied his face.

Emmy came back from the tree line. “I didn't see Micah,” she said.

Elsa squirmed in George's arms and reached out toward Emmy.

“Don't be offended. She's just tired and ready for her nap,” Emmy said, taking Elsa into her arms. “I'll put her down now. You can hold her again later. And I hope Micah comes back soon.” Her voice was trembling. Paul glanced at her; he must have heard her frightened tone, but he didn't say anything.

Emmy took Elsa into the cave and David heard her singing “I'm a little teapot . . .” There was no joy in her voice; the song trailed away. David waited until she came back out before he told them what they had seen.

George picked a fairly straight piece of wood from the pile. “Going to start on that turtle now. I need a big knife or an ax.” The basin with the turtle in it had been pulled out from under the shrub.

Paul laid down the peg, went into the cave, and came back with an ax, which he handed to George. George poked the stick at the turtle's snout, bumping it repeatedly. David jumped back when he saw how quickly and firmly the turtle bit down on the wood, crunching it with its massive jaw.

George pulled on the stick and the turtle hung on, its neck stretched out, long and thick. George pulled some more and still the turtle held on, its neck stretching even farther.

“Give me a hand here,” George said to David. “Grab this stick, pull as hard as you can.”

David planted his feet firmly in the ground and pulled, lifting the front of the turtle up from the bottom of the basin. George raised his arm and with mighty swings, brought the dull ax down over and over again, slashing at the turtle's elongated neck, each blow cutting deeper
through the tough muscle. Blood mixed with the water in the basin, pink tendrils spreading out, and still the turtle hung on.

One last arc of George's arm through the air, one last slice of the knife, and the neck was severed.

“Don't get near the head,” George said. “It can still bite like hell. I remember that from my old farm pond.” David let go of the stick and stepped back, the bloody, lifeless head, still locked onto the stick, at their feet. Death was an ugly thing. David didn't want to watch any more. Seeing that body floating in the river was enough death for a lifetime.

Emmy came back out and made a gagging sound when she saw what we had done.

“You look upset,” Paul said to David. “And so does Emmeline. Something's wrong, isn't it?”

“What is it?” George asked.

“We need to talk.” David walked away from the beheaded turtle and sat near Paul. Emmy sat next to him and leaned against him. George stopped working on the turtle and sat cross-legged on the ground in front of them.

Around them was silence, as if the birds and animals were waiting for David to speak.

He crossed his arms over his chest and tucked his hands into his armpits to hide their shakiness. But he couldn't hide the tremor in his voice.

David stared at the ground in front of the cave. A black beetle scrambled over the dirt. He looked at the other men, wet his lips with his tongue, and took a deep breath to release the tightness of his chest.

“We saw a body,” David said.

Paul straightened up, leaned forward, attentive. “Where?”

“In the river.”

David felt like his senses were shutting down, because he wanted to disassociate from what he had seen.

“This morning?” George asked.

“Yes, this morning.”

“A man?” Paul asked.

“Yes, a man. But not just a man, an Enforcer. He had on an Enforcer's uniform.”

George stood up and began to pace. He was barefoot and his toes spread apart as he walked. Dust puffed up between his toes.

“We'll gather everybody together and go deep into the cave.” Paul said. “We can move some supplies with us, and put out the fire in the pit. The darkness will hide us.”

“No,” David said.

“What do you mean, no?” Paul asked. “We have to hide. We can't fight them.”

“You're right. We can't fight them. And you would be wise to hide deep in the cave. But Emmy and I are going to take the children and go. We'll run until we find a new safe place, a land far from Authorities and Enforcers. We'll build our own new free world. That's what Emmy wants. And I want it for her.”

“You can't do that,” George said. “It's too risky and too dangerous for Elsa.”

Emmy spoke up. “Staying here is too dangerous. If they find us, Elsa and Micah will be returned to the Children's Village. The rest of us will be recycled without a second thought. I can't let that happen. I love them too much. My mind is made up, George. We're leaving.”

“But . . .”

“I know you are a good and kind man, George, and for that I am grateful.” She put her hand on his arm. “I will always be grateful for that.”

“You would leave Ingrid and me?” Paul asked, sounding old and frightened for the first time since David and Emmeline had known him.

“We would never abandon you. We can leave you in good hands, Paul. Kind hands.” She looked at George.

George seemed to understand what she was saying.

“Are you asking me to . . . ?” His voice trailed off.

“I'm asking for Elsa's sake.”

He looked into the woods, in the direction of the farm commune, then back at Emmeline.

She repeated, “For Elsa's sake. You wanted freedom for her even before she was born. This is a second chance for her to be free.”

Paul looked at David, then at Emmy. “You're determined to do this?”

They both nodded.

George rinsed his hands in a basin of fresh water and dried them on his pant legs, leaving wet streaks. He went into the cave and David saw the vague shadow of him leaning protectively over the sleeping Elsa.

Out of respect, they all sat with downcast eyes, waiting for him. They knew he had been hopeful for more time with his daughter and he was treasuring these moments with her.

He returned to the group, walking slowly, shoulders slumped, the posture of a man making a difficult but necessary decision.

He faced Paul. “Emmeline's right. I did want freedom for her and my baby. And that's what I still want.” He put his hand on the old man's shoulder. “You cut my ankle bracelet, Paul. You freed me. That is a debt I wish to repay. I will be honored to stay with you and Ingrid and help protect you, if you allow me.”

Paul nodded his head, and sighed, a deep, sad sound from the depth of his chest. “Then we need to plan. Get out your map.”

Emmy went into the cave and came back out with the map. Paul opened it carefully, spread it on the ground in front of him, and without touching it, followed the lines of the streams and rivers with his index finger.

George turned to David abruptly, “A map! We need to study it carefully. Look for the best route.”

“Will you help us?” David asked. “Maybe you can explain some of the geography to us.”

“Of course, I'll help. I'll do it for Elsa, and for Emmeline,” George said, then added: “And for you and Micah.”

They were all quiet for a moment, absorbing the enormity of what lay ahead.

George turned to Emmeline with a sadness in his face. “May I hold her again before you leave?”

She nodded. “Of course, when she wakes. For as long as you want before we have to go.”

Emmy and George wiped away tears.

David turned away. He didn't want them to see him crying, too.

I
ngrid bustled back from the woods with both hands full of twigs; Micah was close behind her with a jumble of wildflowers. He ran to me and thrust the flowers into my hand.

“For you, Mommy,” he said, grinning.

I buried my nose in them and kissed him on his smooth forehead. He puffed up with pride, and smiled, his freckles hidden by his blush.

“I'm ready to cook. Some of those flowers can go right into the pot. Not all, mind you. Your mother can keep the prettiest ones,” Ingrid moved about, putting a pan of water on the fire pit, moving the broom out of her way, and gathering up the uneven cubes of turtle. “I don't need any help cooking, Micah. Run off and play. This is my kitchen, my rules.”