Chapter 28: Anno 2045

June 2045

They needed lighter clothes for the summer. It was on their to-do-list for the past ten years. The hand-me-downs were worn out and tattered, and just didn’t fit right anymore.

They had plenty of winter clothes and learned how to make moccasins from deer hide and mittens from rabbit fur.

They made the clothes last by sewing patches on pants and mending torn shirts and socks. Mary had shown a unique flair for such tasks once she discovered the secrets of Mrs. Wheeler’s sewing machine and the contents inside the sewing box. When they brought down from the attic the vintage adjustable dress form, her true creative personality of patience and imagination blossomed and took off.

Still, Sally and Katie argued that they didn’t have to live that way knowing that the Millbrook Mall wasn’t that far and probably had everything they needed for some time to come.

The crops were doing well and after seven years the weeds had finally called a truce in their annual outbreak of infestation. The constant, monotonous task of hoeing the crops year after year kept the insidious enemy at bay. Yet, it was the regular crop rotation and crop coverage of field peas that quelled the noxious foe.

By mid-June, they had brought in their first cutting of hay for the winter and in August were hoping to get a good second cutting for their growing livestock. The goats provided most of their meat, and that meant they didn’t have to go hunting so often. However, a turkey for Thanksgiving and a wild pig for Christmas were culinary requisites.

The women of the house were unrelenting in their insistence to return to the mall. The pressure from Sally and Katie grew from year to year for practical reasons. Fifi and Trish were dying to satisfy their curiosity and fulfill their dream of going shopping and getting a new wardrobe. Mary hoped to find fabrics and accessories to pursue her improving sewing talents.

Matthew and Joshua saw the trip as an opportunity for adventure to see the world beyond their mountain. Clark had no particular reason to go except to satisfy everyone else’s.

Motivated by the prospect of the whole family going to Millbrook before the end of June, the kids pitched in to make sure the crops and garden were well tended, and the animals groomed and fed.

Katie insisted that everyone put on their best clothes. She didn’t want anyone to think they were a ragtag band of marauding roughnecks. For Matthew and Joshua it was more like putting on some clothes at all. Their threadbare, cutoff shorts were too tight, their stained t-shirts stretched out of shape. Mary was the only one who looked prissy in a bright summer dress she had salvaged from a long ago run on the thrift store in Farrville.

Matthew was given the honor of riding shotgun up front with Clark. Joshua was promised the privilege on the ride back home to placate his feelings and ego. At thirteen-and-a-half he felt all grown up. He knew how to handle a shotgun just as well as his brother and insisted he get a chance to prove his worth and caliber to protect his family.

They left the farmhouse right after breakfast and stopped for a moment in front of the monastery gate to make sure everything was alright. The place looked serene and lonely, in need of occupants.

Everything along the highway appeared the same as nine years ago when they made their last trip to the outskirts of Millbrook to make contact with wild horses. Most of the houses were engulfed in vegetation and barely visible as Nature continued its reclamation project.

They were saddened to find that the canopy over the gas pumps at the abandoned convenience store at the junction to the scenic byroad had finally given up its heroic stance against time, collapsing like a fallen giant at the gates of Olympus. Likewise, the byroad had relinquished its primacy to encroaching brush, creeping vines and even tree saplings taking root between cracks. There was nothing scenic anymore about this ride.

Mary was forced to sit between Sally and Katie in the back seat to keep her from seeing the horrible sights on the streets of Millbrook. They past broken-down cars, twisted trash mangled with crushed plastic bottles and rusty cans, and grey bones lying on dusty sidewalks. That didn’t stop the fourteen-year-old from stretching her neck and scanning the crumbling stores in search of her desired goal. It wasn’t until they hit the boulevard to the mall, when she spotted a large store – Zekes Fabric Outlet - and made Daddy promise her to stop there after their main shopping spree.

Before they headed for the big clothing store at the mall, they wandered up and down the inner palisade for the kids and Katie to satisfy their curiosities. The kids marveled at the palatial atmosphere, the window displays, and the abundance of goods. The girls flitted from one boutique to another like butterflies, their bright laughter echoing throughout the muted space, while the boys hovered in front of windows, showcasing gadgets, toys and sports equipment, gaping with wonderment, pressing their faces to the glass, hoping it would give them a better look.

“What’s that glass cage for over there?” Joshua asked.

“It’s an elevator that took people from this level of the mall to the one above so that they didn’t have to climb stairs or take the escalator.”

“It works somewhat the same as the hay lift at the barn.”

The kids were mystified by the technological wonder, especially when they finally came face-to-face with the escalators, yet disappointed that they couldn’t see or experience how they worked.

At the clothing store, they split up into two teams. Sally, Katie and the girls headed for the women’s clothing section. Clark and the boys went to the men’s section. Everyone grabbed underwear, T-shirts, long and short sleeve buttoned shirts and blouses, pants and skirts. Mary offered to shorten the sleeves and legs to make the shirts and pants more suitable for warm weather. Sally and Katie made sure they left nothing unturned.

The girls drifted over to a display of skimpy, baby-blue G-string panties and hovered like hummingbirds admiring the hot-pink slogans printed across the front. They were designed to cover little of a girl’s budding sexuality, and the girls made a fuss reading the phrases. Some were highly suggestive and provocative: Happiness is Inside, Feel the Heat, Compose Yourself. The boys were clueless as the girls attacked the rack like a flock of hungry seagulls, practically snatching up every last piece.

They all reconvened in the shoe section to get new sneakers and much needed work shoes. The variety on display was mindboggling and the kids didn’t know where to start. As long as the footwear fit, they were allowed to select any color, design or style to satisfy their individual fancies with a little haggling and coaxing from Sally and Katie, of course.

Before leaving the mall, they all made a quick pit stop at the sporting goods store to get hunting jackets and snowshoes for the boys and new winter jackets for the girls.

They left the mall like satisfied customers eager to get home and try on their new threads. Mary reminded everyone again that their next shopping destination was the fabric outlet.

They had to yank open the glass doors which the boys thought was fun, but once inside they found the visit a bit too mundane and boring. Clark had to tell them repeatedly to stop whining and be more supportive of their little sister. If they wanted to get out quicker, they also had to hold the lanterns steady.

When Mary showed them fabrics with monster trucks, airplanes, dinosaurs and sharks, and that she could cut out patches and sew them on T-shirts, the boys gave her their full attention and cooperation, and wouldn’t stop chattering, listing other possibilities like pillowcases and lamp shades. Fifi even suggested boxer shorts.

“Careful with the sharks! They might want to nibble at your torpedoes,” Trish said which brought boisterous laughs from everyone, except the boys.

They carried armloads up to their eyeballs with bolts of fabric - denim, flannel, satin, jersey, and more – out to the car and had to rearrange the cargo compartment to make sure everything fit. Mary also had a shopping list for accessories such as bobbins, pins and needles, threads, and buttons. The list seemed endless, but hardly filled a canvass tote bag.

The boys were already outside waiting for everyone and keeping an eye on their loot when Katie got lost in the yarn section. She knew how to knit and had a longing desire to make sweaters and scarfs and someday even baby clothes. In the end, she grabbed enough skeins of yarn to fill five bushel baskets, plus a variety of needles.

Once everyone was settled in the back seat and cargo compartment, Clark and Joshua fed them the yarns to fill every possible gap between items, arms and legs, stuffing the car like a Thanksgiving turkey.

As they drove back across the grassy field, Clark stopped the vehicle near the row of hay bales with firm expectations to see the allusive horses. Nothing stirred over the still and static world except for birds busy chasing insects and butterflies dancing from flower to flower like pixie ballerinas.

Sally rolled down her window and tapped Clark on the shoulder. “Am I seeing things, or are there several bales missing over there?” She pointed a finger at the far end of the row.

“Hmm, yes, strange,” Clark was mystified. “It looks like the plastic wrap and outer layers were peeled off and dumped along the fence to get at the inner core.”

“Can horses do that?”

Bewildered, Clark shook his head and before he could come up with a theory, the silhouette of one then another horse appeared over the top of the nearby rise. Slowly and without concern, several more came into full view, finally rewarding the patient, ecstatic onlookers with a grand debut. Mares with offspring were calmly grazing, looking down with indifference at the motionless vehicle.

Matthew was sitting in the back cargo compartment with Fifi and Trish, keeping them entertained. The threesome could hardly move with so many bags of clothes, shoes and yarn packed around them. Yet, upon hearing the word horses, he wrestled himself free to get a glimpse of the majestic animals that he had only seen in pictures.

“Wow, Dad,” he gasped with excitement.

“I know,” Clark said. “They took my breath away too the first time I saw them.”

“When are we ever going to get a pair?”

“After the first frost, we could return and try again with some sweet smelling hay.”

While everyone was marveling at the spectacular sight of foals horsing around, testing their legs, pawing and bucking, and playing a game of catch, Joshua made everyone nearly jump out of their skin.

“Hey, look!” he yelled, pointing his finger straight ahead. “There’s someone over there.”

“Where?” Clark tried to focus his eyes.

“There by the burned-out barn,” Joshua insisted.

“Okay, I see something,” Clark agreed, “but it looks like a Whitetail running for cover into the woods.”

“No, no, it’s someone running away.”

Clark continued squinting and scanning the area near the barn and tree line. There was no more movement. “My eyes are getting older, but it couldn’t have been a person.”

“Let’s go check!” Matthew suggested, his interest having been diverted away from the horses to something even more adventurous.

“I think we should go home,” Katie argued. “It’s getting hot in here.”

Sally seconded the proposal with no objections from anyone, except for a disappointed sigh from Matthew.

Clark put the vehicle into first gear and slowly drove out of the field, leaving the horses to watch with curiosity the departure of their visitors. As he turned onto the rutted, two-track, grass covered road leading down to the scenic byway, he kept an eye through the rearview mirror on the burned out homestead and the spot where he admitted seeing something.

That evening, he gathered the boys to help him tend to the goats and chickens, and lock up the barn. He called them to a far corner away from the entrance and asked Joshua to relate again what he had seen hours before.

Joshua explained that something appeared from the charred side of the barn and described it as a grayish figure wearing a wide-brimmed hat. The grass was tall, and he could only see the figure from the waist up. It moved about the same distance as between two fence posts and suddenly stopped in its tracks as it jerked its head looking in the direction of their vehicle. The head was round and pale like the volley ball from school. The figure stood there for a second or two and then turned and ran for the woods.

“You’ve always told us that there are no other people like us around. But I’m sure I saw a person,” Joshua insisted, his voice squeaky and high-pitched.

“Listen son,” Clark said, placing his hand on Joshua’s shoulder. “I believe you saw more than what I or anyone else did. We need to keep our eyes open and be vigilant. I want you and Matt to practice your skills with the 12 gauge. Now, promise me you won’t repeat this to your Moms and sisters. I don’t want them to get worried.”

OVER THE REMAINDER of the summer and into the fall, Clark debated with himself whether he should go investigate Joshua’s sighting or just leave it alone. For the first time, he didn’t know what to do and was plagued by his ambivalence. Was his age creeping up on him? At 58, he still had a full head of hair, was able to chop wood without losing his breath, and in bed there were no complaints.

He also convinced himself that there was no one around for hundreds of miles or more. Herschel’s journal had chronicled as much. And Brother Ezequiel’s accounts corroborated the reality with somber facts and eye witness accounts.

Another aspect that kept nagging him was the disappearance of several round hay bales. He doubted that the horses could have stripped away the weathered layers to get at the heart of each roll. To do so, they would need hands, tools.

Days later, on their annual trek up to the mountain peak, he searched as far as the eye could see for wisps of smoke rising from a carpet of green forests. He especially concentrated his sight in the direction of where Joshua spotted the unusual movement. The summer haze below made it difficult to distinguish anything that far, plus the woodland was too dense to pinpoint gaps among the tall trees. He decided to stop looking before Sally or Katie questioned his lingering fixation.

Matthew and Joshua went about their daily chores and studies like nothing had happened. They did practice their shooting and archery skills more often.

Clark and the boys stepped up their reconnaissance missions, branching out in different directions and surveying an ever expanding circle of territory to comprehend the landscape and create a mental map of their surroundings. Eventually, they drafted a collection of resource maps with roads, streams, bodies of water, and other natural features. Houses and major manmade structures were added, forests and wooded areas shaded in.

Sometimes the boys ventured alone through the woods along animal trails under the pretense of keeping an eye on the presence of bears and wild pigs that could reach and destroy their crops and garden. These exploration missions were more to their liking, and they felt like brave discoverers or marauding swashbucklers.

Sally and Katie believed in free-range parenting and were alright with the boys’ adventurous exploits as long as they took the dogs with them. Clark insisted they also take along chalk to mark trees and find their way back just in case they got lost.

Sally and Katie never raised the subject about the dubious sighting. The garden harvest, the canning, and preparations for winter kept them too busy to think of anything else.

October 2045

Fall redecorated the landscape with a myriad of yellows, reds, and oranges. By mid-October, Clark and the boys had harvested the corn, thrashed the oats and spring wheat, and sowed the winter wheat. The woodshed was filled to capacity. The cellar was brimming with vegetables, apples and conserves.

The days had grown shorter and the busy workload around the farm wound down. It was time to hit the school books to continue the kids’ education. It was also the best season to go hunt game and fill the freezer and smokehouse with meat. The boys had recently shown their hunting prowess, getting their first turkey by themselves. It took up nearly half the space in the freezer compartment, and everyone looked forward to a delicious Thanksgiving meal.

Still riding high on their recent accomplishment, a wild pig for their Christmas dinner was on the boys’ next agenda. They took off on the Sunday after Thanksgiving in the general direction where Clark had killed his first pig and where they had previously seen fresh signs of wild pigs grubbing around for roots and tubers.

The boys were gone the whole day, and Katie was beginning to worry. It was nearing supper time and the light of day slowly fading when they finally got home empty handed, hungry, thirsty and tired.

Katie had a pot of stew waiting for the boys, and they helped themselves to two bowlfuls, keeping everyone filled with suspense as they recounted their adventures of the day. After supper, it was their turn to bring in chopped wood for the stove and fireplace and they were glad when Clark offered to go outside and give them a hand.

“Dad,” Matthew said loading up the wheel barrow. “We know you told us never to go to the house nearby ... but...”

Clark didn’t like the sound in his son’s voice, nor the lead-in to something he was afraid to hear, and stopped chopping a bundle of kindling. “You went there?” he demanded.

“Not exactly,” Matthew said, trying to blunt his dad’s disappointment. “On our way back from the marshes we kinda crossed over the stream behind the house and heard this strange humming sound coming from inside a big metallic shed hidden among the trees in the backyard.”

More than 18 years ago, Clark had set foot in the backyard of that house with the shipping container and poked his nose through the back door only to be repulsed by the sight and smell of a decomposing body. He never returned to investigate the place and, without ever explaining why, he told everyone, especially the boys, that there was something bad in that house and to stay away from it.

The mysteries surrounding the house now reached a level of heightened concern and couldn’t wait another year to persist nearby like an omen of ill fortune. But, it was the uncommon structure concealed among trees emitting sounds from within that kept Clark awake almost the whole night. What if it housed a ticking time bomb? Who would come up with such a sinister plot? It plagued his mind.

Dawn was smeared against an overcast sky. The morning air was still. Nothing stirred among the dry fallen leaves. No woodpecker, no faraway bugling buck. Even the chickens refused to venture outside. The dogs were wary, testing their ears and sampling the air for the unusual.

Clark decided to take Matthew and Joshua along to brave the unknown and overcome challenges. Sally and Katie knew that this had to be done. Apprehension was written across their faces as they gave Clark a hug and told him repeatedly to be careful. The girls hugged the boys. Mary even planted a kiss on the cheek of her little brother, which he didn’t wipe off to remind him of their sibling bond.

They grabbed a grass hook and a bolt cutter. The house wasn’t that far away, and Clark could always send one of the boys back to the barn to retrieve an additional tool. Each carried a loaded rifle as they headed for the overgrown, two-track road, chasing away the silence with every heavy step and breath they took. The dogs weaved in and out of the thick grass several steps ahead of Clark aroused to pounce on anything that moved.

It took them less than five minutes to reach the house. Clark never paid much attention to it, unlike the tabs he and his family kept on the house further down the road, pruning the fruit trees and grape vines, trimming back the grass, and cutting at least two swaths around the house. The enigmatic house was barely visible from the road shrouded in tall grasses and out-of-control vines clinging to the outside walls, inching their way up to the roof, trying to smother another of man’s structures.