Children of a New Earth (20 page)

He did manage to get a hold of someone in the Greenbowes’ technical workshop. They agreed to send out a replacement generator as soon as possible. They would need new wiring as well, and that was in short supply. It was added to the list of things to get from the Cyclers.

That night Amy, Luke, and Kurt shared a quiet supper on the porch of their cottage. The others were down at the main hall for supper and what the men at the ranch would have called the hair of the dog that bit them.

Kurt was still queasy from his first experience with beer and went to bed shortly after supper.

“I’ll be so glad when this mission is over,” Luke griped. “Leading that pack,” he thumbed toward the village, “is like . . .”

“It’s like the time I had to babysit the Sunday school.” Amy shuddered.

Luke threw his arms in the air. “They’re at it again. You’d think last night would have been lesson enough, but no. I hope they don’t do anything embarrassing. I wish I knew what they were thinking.”

“I don’t know about all of them,” Amy replied, “but Shawn’s looking for a woman.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The way he looks at Wren.”

“She’s engaged,” Luke told her.

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s part of our work agreement, helping her fiancé Devon build their house.”

“Anyway, that’s what he’s hoping: that he’ll find someone.” Amy said.

Luke thought awhile. “I guess that’s not surprising. I suppose it has been hard for him all these years, knowing there was nobody for him. He is not as lucky as we are.”

“And how lucky are we?” Amy asked coolly.

There was an uncomfortable pause as Luke realized he had said something wrong, but he was not sure how to get out of it. “Well you know, you and me.”

“You and I . . . what?”

“Well, we have been going to dances together for five years.”

“As friends,” Amy said.

“I thought that I would ask my dad if I could have that old trailer behind our house. Daniel and I were going to fix it up. Then we could, you know, get married,” he finished lamely, turning red and looking away.

“You and Daniel have planned this?” Amy was incensed. “When were the two of you going to tell me? Before or after the marriage?”

“It’s not like that,” he protested. “I intend to propose proper-like, get your dad’s permission and all.”

“My dad?” she snarled. 

He blushed, realizing that he had, again, said the wrong thing. “Amy,” he continued to protest, “I care for you and you care for me. Besides, who else are you going to marry?”

“That is none of your damn business!” she yelled, leaping to her feet. “I will not have my fate decided for me. Not by you and Daniel, and not even by my father. Do you understand?” Without waiting for a reply, she turned and fled into the night.

She circled the village several times. She did not want to go anywhere near the main hall with its bright lights and people. She did not want to go back to the cottage and face Luke again.

Why did he have to do this to her? He was her only friend. Why did he have to ruin it by wanting more? The last thing she wanted was to be married and settled down. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes as she thought about being married and cooped up in that old trailer, trapped forever.

After a long while, she saw Luke’s form slump into the cottage, defeated. She quietly crept back to the deserted porch and sat down. What really pissed her off was the thought that he was right.
Who else would she marry?
The thought pounded her brain.

She would be a woman soon, by the standards of the ranch. She knew what that meant. Maybe her father could get her out of it for a while. She held back another tear at that thought. He wouldn’t be there when she got back. He couldn’t protect her anymore.

Maybe my abilities will save me
, she thought. She knew it was a lie even as she thought it. They would all go to James Gatlin, whether he knew enough or not. Better an incompetent male than her.

She felt rather than heard Luke’s presence at the doorway. “I’m really sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like this. It was supposed to be a surprise. Romantic-like.”

Amy snorted loudly. Romance was something her sister talked about, not her.

“I should have asked and discussed it with you before making any plans,” he admitted.

“Exactly,” she said, a little harsher than she had intended. Fighting back tears, she went on quietly, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have blown up. You’re right as usual. Who else am I going to marry? Get that trailer fixed up, and I’ll marry you.” She tried to sound jovial or enthused, but she felt hollow and empty. What else was she going to do? She wanted nothing to do with any other man at the ranch.

It’s not that I don’t like men
, Amy thought.
It was supposed to be different, that’s all. Some tall, dark, handsome stranger comes into town and my heart will do flip-flops.
That’s all those romance novels Elisabeth reads go anyway
. She shook her head.
The world’s not like that anymore, and I just have to deal with it
.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Luke said. “It will be perfect, you just wait and see.”

Amy felt cold. She could sense Luke’s eagerness and knew he desperately wanted her to move closer, to put her arm around him or hug him. She sat there frozen. The prospect of marriage was supposed to be exciting, but it brought her nothing but dread. Drained by the emotional tumult, she excused herself and went to bed. Tired though she was, she lay awake a long time before finally drifting off to sleep.

She was woken by the sound of angry voices. It was still dark.
It must be late
, she thought, trying to hear what was going on. She couldn’t make out what the voices were saying. She thought she heard some scuffling and then there was silence.

Concerned, she climbed out of bed and pulled her overalls on. She barely reached the door to her room when Luke came up the stairs. In the dim light, she could see that his face was taut with suppressed rage.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Mark and Shawn had a fight,” he replied tersely. “Both drunk. I had to break it up.”

“Assholes,” Amy replied. “Let them fight.”

“Damn it!” he exploded, hitting the wooden wall. “What were they thinking? What if a villager had been involved? They could have ruined the whole deal over one night of stupid carousing.” He slumped against the wall. “I can’t do this. They don’t respect me, not like they did Jacob. They don’t do anything unless I argue and threaten. How am I supposed to lead?”

Amy sank down beside him. “I think you’re doing a great job,” she said. “They’re just a bunch of immature idiots. Hey, nobody’s shot themselves in the foot yet, right?”

Luke snorted. “Shawn would be the one to do that. He did it back at the ranch once. Only a pellet gun, but still. Do you really think I’m doing okay?”

“Okay? The way you dealt with the Akiras and then the villagers here, I was amazed. You’re a natural diplomat. I doubt Jacob could have done as well.”

“I’m not sure I believe you, but thanks anyway.”

The next day Mark had a black eye. He said nothing, and no one else dared comment.

“You get that end,” Daniel told Luke. “On the count of three: one, two, three.” They heaved the massive piece of limestone up between them. Taking short controlled steps, they moved slowly from the wagon to the growing wall. Its share of the labor completed, an ox watched them, looking content as it chewed its cud.

They placed the stone where the old woman directed them and then headed back for another.

“She sure is something,” Daniel puffed as they waited in line for their turn to grab another slab. “Must be seventy if she’s a day, yet she moves those stones around . . . she’s tireless.”

“Plenty of practice,” Luke replied as they watched the woman work, climbing up and down out of the meter deep trench as she directed the labor. “Devon says her father was a stone mason back in the old days. She’s been doing this kind of work for fifty years, both before and after the blast.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Daniel said slowly as they each hoisted a smaller limestone slab and headed back towards the trench, “about our agreement.”

“What about it?” Luke replied. They had agreed that Daniel would help him fix up the trailer, and Luke would help Daniel convert a small shed into a house of sorts.

“Well, it’s doing this that’s got me thinking,” Daniel went on. He passed his slab down to the woman who was now stacking the smaller stones on top of the heavy slabs they had placed as footings. “I mean, they’ve got the right idea, don’t they? If there is one thing the ranch has plenty of, its rocks, soil and clay. Why bother fixing decrepit old buildings anyway? We could just build a couple of these.”

Luke smiled. “I’m way ahead of you. I talked that old man, Macalaster, into taking me with him tomorrow.”

“Where?”

“He’s got another house they are finishing on the far side of the valley. So while you guys are finishing this foundation and starting to cob the walls, I’ll be helping him thatch the other place. When we get home, we’ll each know half the job.”

Daniel laughed. “Good thinking. Imagine what they’ll think of us? First new houses in how long?” He paused and thought, “You know, it’s odd.”

“What’s that?”

“These people. My dad always said a civilian was a bit like a girl. When action gets hot, they all run and hide. These guys were all civilians once. They didn’t run and hide. They fought the damn war and are halfway to rebuilding society. What have we done?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s like I just said. If we build, it will be the first house raised in how long? Years.”

“So? We’ve been at war. State of emergency. Can’t expect to build at a time like that,” Luke answered.

“These people saw more action than we ever did. They didn’t ever stop building.”

Luke didn’t have an answer to that.

The next couple of days passed uneventfully. Shawn and Patrick complained about mud in their toes—the foundation was finished and the men had begun to mix the earthen material for the walls in the time-honored way, by trodding on it barefoot. Kurt, on the other hand, laughed and demonstrated the “cobber’s dance” to Amy one night.

Amy saw Luke occasionally as he perched high on the roof of the other farm, learning the slow craft of the thatcher. He seemed to be a natural. Meanwhile, Amy’s respect for the villagers was growing by leaps and bounds. What on the surface seemed a very primitive life was actually quite complex. The villagers simply believed in keeping technology unobtrusive if possible.

Amy got to see most of it, however. They tried to keep everything recyclable on a local level. She helped to recalibrate the electric grinder that turned broken ceramic plates and mugs into a fine powder that could be added to the potter’s mix for the next batch. She helped the glass blower fix his methane still, and saw broken jars and cups melted down and re-blown.

The gardens represented years of collective experience. They were carefully planned to not only provide a bountiful harvest of healthy food, but they also had the soil’s health in mind. Careful composting of every scrap of waste had slowly rebuilt the local soil to a rich humus many inches deep. Amy discovered just how deep one afternoon as she helped dig up and replace pipes in an underground irrigation system. This ingenious system allowed them to put water at the plants’ roots while avoiding any water loss due to evaporation.

On the fifth night since arriving in the village, Luke called a meeting of all the expedition members. Mark and Shawn both grumbled loudly as they ate at the long table. They had spent every night in the village drinking and resented being held back tonight. Amy suspected the real reason for holding the meeting was to try to rein them in a bit.

“As you all know,” Luke began, ignoring the two of them, “in two days our week of service will be up. We will be leaving immediately to continue our mission.”

“Thank God,” Kurt and Daniel muttered to each other. They had both given up drinking early on in the week.

“What’s the rush?” Mark asked. “Can’t we stay a few more days?”

“No,” Luke replied. “The ranch is counting on us, and we have a long way to go yet.” 

Mark groaned at the thought of another long hike.

Amy felt torn about their upcoming departure. She wanted the mission to be over. She was increasingly worried about Mark, Shawn, and Patrick drinking so much. Something bad would come of it, she was sure. And yet her experience here was something totally unexpected. She’d spent the day helping Gerry, the burly blacksmith who reminded her painfully of her own father, fix several well pumps. Gerry, and indeed all of the villagers, had made an impression on her with their openness, respect, and most importantly, acceptance of her.

She had spent so long at the ranch fighting for this kind of respect. Everyone there went straight to her father, even when they knew he passed most of the jobs on to her. They were too bullheaded to admit she was the one who did them. Here, no one batted an eye at her. She tried to discuss it with Gerry, but without much success. “Your mechanical skills are valuable,” he told her. “So, of course you are valued.”

“But I’m a girl,” she insisted.

“Yep, you are,” he agreed, blushing.

She was mystified by the reaction. Having fought so hard for acceptance, she now found it unnerving. Still, she was not eager to leave it either. Especially not to go back to traveling with a bunch of men who mostly treated her like dirt.

Luke raised his hand for quiet. “We have an important issue to discuss,” he said. 

Is he going to tell them to lay off the booze?
Amy wondered. Everyone looked at him expectantly. 

“The Greenbowes have extended us their welcome. They are about a two weeks’ hike away. Their village is in the same direction we will be going to get to the Cyclers anyway, and they may have more help for us. They are a large and influential community in these parts. They manufacture some light electronics, and their help could prove crucial.”