Tomorrows Child (5 page)

At the
crossroads on the outside of town, people milled in small groups
and the soft hum of voices floated across the still air. Several
vehicles were parked along the edge of the crumbling bitumen and a
man stood on the tailgate of an old truck.

“I wonder what
this is all about,” said Ruben. “I should have known Lon Everly
would be at the centre of any effort to organise and gain
control.”

Lon Everly, the
man on the truck, was tall and thin with long, grey hair pulled
into a ponytail. He nodded our way and called to the crowd as we
approached.

“Can everyone
head this way?” he yelled, “People! People! Can we get some action
here?” He waved his arms and gathered the people. He looked like an
evangelist desperate to spread to word of God.

“Oh, this will
be good,” said Ruben.

“Welcome
everyone! Many of you already know me, but for those who don’t, my
name is Lon Everly. I’ve lived in the area goin’ on twenty years
now, so I guess you might say I’m a local. I know you came here
today hopin’ to get answers. Some of you are expectin’ to be
rescued, while others are just lookin’ for good news. Well, it
doesn’t look as if anyone is gonna rescue us, I have no answers,
and dependin’ on your point of view, the only good news is you’re
still alive.”

Gasps of
disappointment rippled through the crowd.

“While I have
my own theories about what happened, I have no facts that I can
pass along. So at this point, all we can really do is help each
other survive. I know some of us come from farms and some have
vegetable gardens, but the question is, are any of us willin’ to
share? The whole town is pretty much bare; I’d say looters did a
job on the shops weeks ago.”

“This has got
to be a joke,” whispered Raven, “I came all this way for nothing.”
She turned and walked away.

“What we all
need to do is take stock of our own situation. Get word out to
anyone who has survived and plan to meet back here on a regular
basis. A monthly meeting is not enough for some, while others won’t
ever come to town.

“Those of you
who have no food and no means should see me after the meeting. I’ll
share a few options with you then. We all need to work together to
ensure that at least some measure of sustainability is maintained.
The school already has its own gardens and from what I hear, the
looters and vandals didn’t venture that far; looks like they
weren’t locals. Anyway, if we can work out a system that’s fair to
everyone, then we’ll all be better off. Now, we need ideas and
suggestions. Anyone?” Lon finished and looked over the crowd of
people.

“We need to
know what’s happening!” a man yelled. He held his wife tightly and
his children hugged their legs.

“Is the
government going to do anything?” said another voice.

“We’re
starving! We don’t care what the government’s doing! We need to do
something!”

“He’s right.
The government didn’t do anything before. What makes you think they
will rescue you now? I bet they are in the same position as the
rest of us.”

“Rubbish, they
took care of themselves. They’re hidin’ out, safe in bunkers
somewhere.”

The questions
were coming fast and no one had the answers. A whistled
reverberated through the air and silenced the crowd. It was Lon, “I
told you I don’t have the answers you’re seekin’. No one does and
it’s stupid to waste time supposin’. The natural thing to do would
be to group up and see what ideas you can come up with. Gather the
people who live nearby. If you haven’t already sorted somethin’ out
with your neighbours, now is the time. But one thing I can promise
you, no one will go hungry today.”

Lon Everly
nodded to the distance where a vehicle appeared. It was noisy and
blew black smoke as it bounced across the grassy field. The smell
of warm blood filled the air, which was as familiar to me now as
fresh coffee used to be. A huge dead creature was sprawled out in
the back of the Ute, and although we should have felt some sorrow
that another creature had been slaughtered to feed us, most just
felt relief.

A man stepped
forward, “I have some news.”

Lon nodded, “Go
on then.”

“I don’t think
anyone is coming to help. The cities are a bigger mess than you
could imagine. The army was setting up refugee camps but they
pulled out just after Christmas. That’s where we were, in a
survivors’ camp, west of Sydney. A young soldier threw some bags of
food out of a truck and said ‘You’re on our own now.’ That’s the
last we saw of any organised effort, but there are people
everywhere just like all of us. No one knows what to do. We just
aren’t prepared for this kind of thing.” People started to question
the man, but he just shook his head.

I could have
told them something, I could have told them that the cities were
abandoned, still reeking of death, and that refugee camps were more
like death camps. I could have told them the coastal roads have
succumbed to the ocean and the only way north is via the inland
highway. One day, as we drove north, we could smell the salty ocean
from the inland road. We parked and walked to the top of a hill and
saw the ocean carve a new coastline. Where before the sand met the
ocean and golden beaches formed the coastline, now the ocean ate
its way into the mountain and formed craggy cliffs and rocky
shorelines. We watched the tide recede, revealing remnants of a
little town. We wept that day and I tasted the salty ocean in my
tears.

I could have
told them about the people that walked beside the road, heading
toward nowhere; or the family we picked up and left near a creek
under a shady tree, because the father said it was as good a place
to die as any. I could have told them a thousand things, but broken
hearts don’t need the salt of reality rubbed into their open
wounds, so I said nothing.

When it became
obvious that the man had nothing new to add, some wandered off and
formed small groups just as Lon had suggested. Others just looked
lost, alone and tired. Our group slowly withdrew from the crowd and
regathered. It appeared we were doing as we were told.

“I think we
should go,” said Libby.

“I want beef!”
said Navarre.

“These people
are starving. We don’t need to eat their food, but if we leave now,
they’ll know we don’t need this food. It could cause us trouble
later.” Phoenix was right, but we didn’t need to take the food from
the mouths of the starving.

“I don’t want
to risk being out after dark anyway and this could take all day.”
Ruben had other concerns. Tahinah and Jalani were at home with the
other women and children. The raiders that had murdered Nell were
still fresh on his mind. They were on all our minds.

“I think the
boys are right, Libby. If we leave now, someone will see it as a
sign of strength, that we have enough food and are safe. While I’d
really like to help here, we must be careful and protect our own. I
think we should hang out, see what is going on and leave early,”
said Ruben.

“Well then,
perhaps we should mingle.” Libby forced a smile. It had to be hard
for her, having just buried her friend.

“I’ll hang out
with Psyche, just in case she gets lost,” Phoenix said and everyone
laughed. I could have been offended, but it lightened the mood and
I was thankful for that.

As our group
broke up and wandered off, I noticed several people who didn’t look
like locals. They weren’t drawn to groups of people or looking for
familiar faces.

I looked beyond
those close to me and took in the big picture. It looked like a
scene from an old painting – tall trees and grassy fields, old cars
with faded paint and people. There were people everywhere. Then I
saw more. I noticed their faces. Dark eyes drew my attention. Their
faces carried the looks of anguish, hunger, sleepless nights and
sorrow that went far beyond misery. Tears smeared with dirt and
dried on the children’s cheeks. I knew how bad things were, but
until now, I’d only felt sorry for myself. I was self-absorbed and
obsessed by my own grief, and now I was feeling sorry for these
strangers.

“I thought we
were here to help.”

“We are, but we
can’t take everyone home with us and we can’t give them all our
food. We need to find another way to help,” said Phoenix.

“Like
what?”

“I’m not sure,
but that’s why we need to hang around for a while, talk to the
people and see what’s really going on,” he was looking into the
crowd, “If I leave you here for a minute, will you promise to stay
put?” I nodded, but the minute he left, I began to reverse out of
the crowd. The smell of unwashed bodies caught me by surprise,
gagging me.

Ruben was
talking to Lon, who was pointing to the field. Others were hugging
and sobbing with grief, replaced momentarily by the relief at
seeing a friend. I stood just beyond the groups of people, outside
and alone, but I couldn’t separate myself from the emotions that
swelled and overflowed, making the air thick and unbearable. It’s
one thing to feel empathy for a single person grieving; but being
surrounded by misery was making me sick. My own grief was still too
fresh.

A couple in
their early twenties approached me. The girl had long blond hair
that fell in tendrils of knots, not dreadlocks, just masses of
knotted, unwashed hair. Her boyfriend was bald. The contrast was
almost amusing, but in reality, it was anything but. We spoke about
nothing in particular. They had travelled over one thousand
kilometres, mostly by foot, in an effort to get to the highest
place above sea level they could find just in case the oceans rose
higher than they already had.

The sign on the
outskirts of town boasted the highest village in Queensland, so
they planned to make it their new home.

“We’ve scored a
prime spot at the old high school,” the bald guy said. He appeared
quite pleased with their luck, but their dark haunted eyes revealed
more than their words divulged. As they left, the girl smiled.
“Peace, love and sunshine,” she said as she made the peace sign
with her dirty fingers, like a chick from the sixties. At least she
tried.

I spoke to
several others, some were interested that I was Libby’s
granddaughter and asked how things were going. I lied truthfully
and they patted me on the back, assuring me things would get
better. In the end, I felt more sorry for myself than I had a right
to be. Everyone was suffering and yet people still had compassion
to offer a stranger.

A tall
dark-haired woman approached me. She was well dressed and clean,
“Hello, Psyche.”

“Hmm,
hello.”

“How is your
mother?” she asked.

I told the
stranger about my mother and that I was living with Libby.

“I’m so sorry
to hear that. You must be suffering terribly,” she said, “Please
give my regards to your grandmother.”

“I will, but
who…”

She cut me off.
“No doubt I’ll see you again soon,” she said as she walked
away.

“Who was that?”
Phoenix asked, arriving just moments after the woman left.

“I have no
idea, she knew me and Mum and said to say hello to Libby,” I
shrugged. “It’s strange that she knew who I was.”

“Maybe she saw
you with Libby and guessed. There are a lot of locals here today,
heaps that I don’t know and plenty who would have known your
mother.”

“If you don’t
know them, how do you know they are locals?” I looked around the
crowd.

“Look around.
Look at the people wearing cleaner clothes and the expressions on
their faces. They’re not as devastated as the refugees. Compare
them with the others, very dirty clothes, backpacks and bags full
of stuff they are afraid to let go of. I’m guessing the bags
contain everything they own. You can tell they’ve had a really hard
time.”

He was right, I
had seen the grief in the faces, but I didn’t realise that the
differences were so obvious. Everyone wore a look of sorrow, but
some had lost something else, something more dismal.

“What is that?
That look they have?” I knew that the look was familiar, but I
couldn’t quite work out what it was.

“It’s the look
when hope is gone and you’re inviting death to take you. I’ve seen
that look on you before,” he said. “But not today; you’ve found
hope again, I can see it in your eyes.” He brushed away a single
tear that fell across my cheek.

We found a
quiet place under a tree, away from the crowds and the misery. I
was barely able to hold back the tears. I shouldn’t have come to
town. It was too much, too soon. Phoenix took my hand and a tiny
smile pulled the sadness from his mouth, while his eyes remained
mirrors of the horror that surrounded us. Seeing Phoenix this way
was too much and I leaned into his arms and sobbed.

When the tears
stopped, we wandered back toward the various groups. Libby was in
the midst of a conversation with Lon Everly when we approached.

“Remember, Lon,
this is a very slippery path you tread. I suggest you use caution
and perhaps consider something more practical to do with your
time.”

“You
misunderstand; this is the concluding chapter of a very long term
project. The demise of society has simply hastened its
arrival.”

“And what of
your mistress? Surely she doesn’t agree with this nonsense.” Libby
motioned to the dark-haired woman in the distance.

“For the
record, she is no longer my mistress, but it is because of that
viper that I have taken this path.” Lon paused and sighed, “No
woman can suck the life out of a man like Volante Vega.”

“Then I fear we
do have something in common after all.” Libby turned, caught my arm
and walked away.

“What was that
all about?”

“Just a foolish
man with his heart set on causing trouble.” Libby was in a foul
mood, something I had never experienced.