Idaho
We gathered the children from the library, turned out the lights and locked the house. We got in the van and started driving north, Charlie taking the first turn at the wheel.
In the seat behind us, the children sat in the gloom and were silent. Rollo fell asleep in Scouts lap and then a little later on both Scout and Rebecca fell asleep, leaning towards each other, first shoulder to shoulder, then head to head.
At dawn, I took the wheel. We stopped at a small town near the Oregon border for gas. After bathroom breaks and one quick stop at a fast food chain, we sped off, stopping only in forests from then on. By next mid-morning, we pulled into Jack’s dirt driveway. It was a bright and sunny day, and Jack wasn’t there. He was out on some hunting expedition, as the boat was tied to the dock. But his dog, Jeff, was home, eagerly coming out of the house as Charlie opened the door, licking his hand and then mine, and then going to each of the children and sniffing them curiously, his own form of face recognition, probably far better than ours, as we could be deceived by look alike's, but he couldn’t.
The children quickly turned from Jeff to the beautiful, oval lake. It was a serene day, and the light blue color of it mesmerized them. I told them to go to the van and put on their swimwear and take a dip. The three of them were soon holding hands and jumping off the end of the dock, loud with laughter, almost squealing. Rollo had no experience in swimming, but his two older sisters quickly remedied that, and within a few minutes he was dog paddling like a pro.
As this scene unfolded, Jack returned from the forest behind us, trudging down the steep hill, with his shotgun on one shoulder and a wild turkey on the other. He was surprised to see us but also visibly happy.
He ran up to me as I was leaning against the van, grasped my arm and said: “I knew you’d come back. It wasn’t last year, but you did. I fixed up the old house for you to stay in and it’s ready still.”
Then he turned and noticed the children splashing in the water.
“Is this your family? They’ll be welcome here. I guarantee it. Things have been going on strange in town. My checks stopped showing up, and the liquor store is empty. They told me I’d have to wait and could only get my benefits after I reported to some center in Boise. That was a few months ago. I’m near broke and starving. If it weren’t for the money you left me I would be. Did you bring any booze?”
“Of course we did, Jack. You know Charlie and I would never be so impolite.”
“Glad you’re here, all of you. What're the kid’s names?”
As he said this, they came out of the water and presented themselves.
“Why here you have Scout, her best friend Rebecca and my son Rollo, five years old.”
Charlie gave Jack a handshake and opened up the back of the van and showed him all the liquor cases packed there. As Jeff licked the water off their hands, Jack told us he hadn’t seen any children in a long time but was glad for a change.
He then took us all for a quick tour through his improved house then on to the bigger house behind, where we would sleep. The windows were fixed, and the place was cleaned and painted, with new sheets on the beds, a new kitchen table and the living room fireplace ready to go with a stack of wood beside it. There were two bedrooms upstairs, in something like a loft, and one downstairs for me. So we moved right in with our luggage, the girls happy to share the larger room while Rollo got the smaller one next to theirs.
After dinner that night in Jack’s house, a tasty meal from the canned vegetables that we’d brought and the wild turkey, Jack told us of the strange changes he’d seen in the town below over the last year. The three children huddled on the rug in front of the roaring fireplace, all caressing Jeff. Charlie opened the first bottle of spirits, an aged Kentucky bourbon, and poured the three of us a glass.
“Why I haven’t tasted this fine a drink since the last time you were here. It almost makes a man forget the pain of daily existence. I love this stuff. I know it’s a weakness, but I love it to a fault like Adam loved Eve.
I wondered as he said this if he’d ever read Milton’s ‘Paradise Lost’ from which this was a direct reference, the heart-piercing scene where Adam tells God he could never give up his Eve after she had sinned and had to leave the garden, after God promised to make him another just like her so they could stay. Adam declared he would know the difference and could never live with that. But I quickly concluded that it was impossible and marveled at the coincidence.
Then he went on about the developments in town. “First, the grocery store, which is also the liquor store, started cutting back on their supplies, mostly hard liquor. Frank, my friend, who runs the place said they weren’t making it anymore. Everyone was so happy they didn’t need booze. Only the rich could afford it, and he wasn’t rich. So I had to start drinking crappy beer and wine. Then my checks stopped, about four months ago. I’ve been living off the money you left me, but even that’s running low. The postal clerk said I had to volunteer for some strange type of wafer before payments could resume. I had no idea what he was talking about, so I refused.”
This is where I had to break in: “Yes, we know all about it. The world is in trouble, and going downhill fast, this is why we’re up here, to get away from everybody. There’s a new, life-changing wafer that restores health and mind. It’s a miracle drug. We’ve brought you some, the old model. We’ve all taken it, and you can see how chipper we are.”
I went out to the other house and into my luggage and took out two chips, one for a human and one for a dog.
Back in his living room, I presented him with the wafer. “Eat this, and you’ll feel much better. Charlie will tell you. He’s tried it twice.”
Charlie nodded his head. “Take it; you won’t believe how much better you’ll feel tomorrow morning, specially your old war wounds.”
“And I have one for the dog too, for Jeff.” I handed it to Scout who promptly put it into the palm of her hand where Jeff licked it up. She bent down and put her forehead against his, saying: “Oh, good dog, good dog.”
Jack looked at his with a strange face, for several minutes, while Charlie kept talking up its merits.
“You’re too good a friend to steer me wrong, Charlie.” He poured himself another glass of whiskey and ate it. We spent the next hour by the fireside, the children talking among themselves of what they might do in this new world and the three of us just sipping whiskey. I took the children to the old house. We all unpacked and went to bed.
The love affair between Jeff and the children skyrocketed the next morning. Jeff was feeling years younger and brighter than ever. He ran and scratched at our door before we were even up. But Scout heard it and ran to the door and opened it and was greeted with kisses. Soon the other two were at his face, exchanging hugs.
When we walked over to Jack’s cabin, the door opened by Jeff, we found Charlie still asleep on the couch but Jack busy at the stove cooking up a large breakfast from the supplies we’d brought in.
“You were right; I feel great. Whatever that was you gave me sure did the trick. And look at Jeff. I think he’s ready for the mountains again.”
Upon hearing this Jeff ran over to Jack and jumped up on him.
“I know, I know you’re eager to stretch your legs. If everyone agrees let’s eat and take a hike this morning.”
And that’s precisely what we did. Jack didn’t bring any rifles, just a handgun he always carried for protection. He didn’t want to kill animals in front of the children. But he did have them at his side the whole time, along with Jeff, and he was full of talk, explaining everything about the woods to them. It was a long walk halfway around the lake. When Rollo grew tired Charlie and I took turns carrying him on our backs. The girls loved the expedition. They’d never been to a real mountain woods before, just a few tame parks. They dropped their girlish talk and play and were like tomboys in this new environment, which was a relief to me as I thought they might dislike the dirt and roughness of it. But they reveled in it, running back and forth with Jeff, throwing sticks into the water and clapping as he fetched them, hugging him all wet and laughing out loud.
Back at Jack’s place by mid-afternoon, the kids went swimming while we sat and watched. As Jack was ‘enlightened’ now, I gave him a long rundown on exactly what was going on in the world to explain why we were here. He was amazed at this history and told us he’d noticed the townspeople change over the last two years, how some of them seemed younger and healthier, but he could never figure out why, until now. But when Charlie and I got to the part about the new chip, and how it destroyed personality and made people into robots, his juices got rattled. He declared no one would get past his shotgun, that we were safe here and could stay as long as we wanted, forever in fact.
“I don’t know about you but seeing these children play has given me a new reason to live. I’m gonna make sure they’re safe no matter what. I doubt that anybody is gonna come up here, but if they do, they’ll regret it.”
Days passed and then a few weeks. Jack took the children fishing every few days and taught Rebecca and Scout how to aim and shoot a rifle, then one of his many handguns, while Rollo watched. Twice a week he drove his old truck into town, and with the money we’d brought loaded up on food and supplies. We didn’t go with him for fear of detection, but with each return, we begged him for any news. There wasn’t much. Charlie got on the ham set each night and questioned folks as discreetly as he could. Most contacts were out in the country and out of the loop, but a few operators in towns told us of bizarre things going on, of mobs collecting and being dispersed, of officials leaving their posts in droves, gathering up their families and driving away, as if they feared a lynch mob. There was mayhem everywhere, and the government was no longer in control of people.
I knew that this was Claire and her allies hard at work and after the third week I couldn’t contain myself; I had to talk to her. So we drove the van into town, and I took the children to the one internet spot, the town restaurant, where we crowded into a booth and turned on the screen, and I typed in an address Claire had given me.
“After a few seconds, Claire’s face appeared, smiling. We all said hello.”
“I’m so happy to see you, all of you” she began. “Scout, Rebecca, I’ve got your parents back, and they’re recovering. They’re staying at Roland house, and Naomi and Jason are taking care of them. Because they were only under the influence for a few days they’ll make a complete comeback. But you have to stay where you are at least another two months. I have so many helpers inside the machine, over a thousand. In some cities we are winning, but in others the battle has just begun. And then there’s the rest of the world. It’s going to take time so just sit tight. I love all of you.” She blew us a kiss and then the image faded.
We ordered dinner. I asked the waitress if she’d heard about the new chips. I could see she hadn’t gotten one yet because she wasn’t in a particularly good mood.
“Yes, my parents in Boise got there’s last week. They say they’re wonderful. They couldn’t stop talking about it. I’m going there this weekend to get mine.”
That was one of the most evil and deceptive traits about this new wafer. In the first days after ingesting one, you were all there, happy as a lark, telling everyone you met what a godsend this was. It was only after three or four weeks that the incessant stimulation of your pleasure centers began to slowly erode your personality, your entire being, making you into the mind washed, duty focused droid that was your sad end. It was like the waves of the ocean washing away and erasing the ripples in the sand, your fingerprints, your identity, eroding them away with each lick, a lovely lick that sent you deep into a peaceful, permanent oblivion.
I took Claire’s words to heart and we spent the time at Jack’s, in our cocoon. The liquor held out, the money for food, the azure sky, the beauty of the lake, and the children frolicking each day along the shore. So summer passed like a happy dream, like a lonely cloud that slowly drifts across the blue sky and never crosses the sun.
But come September we packed the van and said our long ‘goodbye’s’ to Jack and Jeff. Jack told us he’d had his best summer ever and went so far as to beg me to bring the children back next summer, not only for him but for Jeff. I promised I would. Then I left him enough money to get by.
As we drove south, we stopped at a few small towns along the way and noticed that people seemed normal. The only reaction we noticed was that some eyed our black van suspiciously. But as we got out with the children, they seemed relieved. Restaurants and businesses were open, and people were on the streets, talking to each other in small groups in hushed tones and looking about nervously. But, as strangers, we made no inquiries, purchased our sandwiches and gas and went our way.
