HAPPY PLACE

The ache that had clawed its way up from his legs to his waist started to reach for his shoulders as the ocean of repurposed cartons came into view. He tightened his grip on the nylon bag and picked up the pace as his final destination came into view, and so did the others in his group.

He remembered it like it had happened the previous day. He remembered the long days they spent planning the trip. He remembered the skepticism he and the group shared about the prospects of the trip being successful. He remembered his worries about the effects the journey would have on the travelers and the risk a failure to secure their goal would pose to the community. They were all worried. None of them, however, could have predicted that many of their fears would pale in comparison to what would manifest in the course of the trip.

***

As the supply of food in River City dried up, they decided to seek it elsewhere. Rumor had it that Stone City still had an abundant availability of food, despite the havoc the disruption of supply chains had had. The scarcity of food in River City had intensified so much that it prompted residents who had places to flee to to pack up and leave, pending the time the economic situation would be redeemed.

As the situation worsened, it left the leaders of the community with no option but to accept the rumors as partially true and head to Stone City to investigate further. They had foreseen a trying but smooth journey. They had foreseen smooth integration into similar communities there, of whom they would ask questions, and from whom they would receive answers and respite. But it was not to be so. They foresaw wrongly.

Reality made its first appearance in the woods on the outskirts of Stone City. They were all bundled up in their makeshift snowcoats, snaking through the woods in a straight line, when they started to hear strange noises from the back of the line. The first sound was a loud thud. The second and third sounds were from thrashing in the bush off to the side. The third was a muffled sound. And the fourth, and final one, was a loud shriek which was quickly replaced by gurgling sounds.

“We’re being attacked!” someone shouted from the rear after he watched four of his comrades disappeared into the bush a matter of seconds. 

The rumors of Stone City’s abundance had come followed by rumors of militias hidden in and around the city, standing guard to keep people out and secure the food-safety of the City’s residents. The travelers had taken makeshift arms and other sharp objects along with them just in case the rumors were true. It would prove to be a good decision.

The news of the happenings at the back of the procession quickly spread to those in front. The men and women of the group had experienced life at its worst, so they had no problem protecting themselves. The only reason they were present at that moment was because they had done a good job of protecting themselves for many years, they weren’t about to watch faceless militants put all that practice and experience to waste. So they all drew their weapons and listened for their attackers.

He had taken a pocket-knife along to ensure his safety. He’d found it laying around during one of his many strolls around River City and had decided to borrow it permanently from whoever its owner was. He’d spent a few hours sharpening it before they embarked on the trip just in case it became necessary to put it to use.

When they heard some rustling in the bush, they knew their attackers were on the move. A lady standing to his left spotted a silhouette between the trees behind him and charged. A few seconds later he heard the sound of the stick in her hand making contact with someone’s head, and then bashing it in when the militant tried to crawl away.

In a matter of minutes, the straight line had broken into scattered bits. Members of the procession took on their attackers and played the game of ‘life or death’ with every intention of winning. He watched the happenings around him as he waited for someone to make a move on him. His hope was that he would be able to make it through without having to face-off with anyone, but that would not be the case.

He was still scanning his immediate environment when a thick-haired middle-aged redhead jumped out of the bush right in front of him and charged at him. He didn’t spot the redhead immediately because he was looking off to his right. But for the redhead’s battle-cry as he charged towards him, he would not have spotted him in time to react. Fortunately for him, the redhead had seen too many movies and heard too little about stealth.

The moment he realized he was being attacked, time slowed to a snail’s pace. The world around him blurred as his line of sight narrowed in on his attacker. The environment was muted to the point at which he could hear and feel every contraction of his heart as it went about drumming up the support of his entire body to ensure success in the task at hand.

He bided his time. And as soon as the redhead was close enough to him, he pushed one foot forward, and then everything happened in the blink of an eye. 

He swung the knife upwards from the bottom-right and across the chest of the redhead to his left shoulder. It stopped him in his tracks. The redhead’s eyes widened as realization set in. Before he could move a muscle, the hand holding the pocket-knife repeated the same motion, but this time, in reverse. Time slowed for the redhead. He tried to get away as quickly as he could but time had slowed too much to allow him move any faster. In a flash, the hand swung the pocket-knife across his neck and back.

The redhead began to stagger backward but his legs buckled under him and dragged him to his knees. He stayed on his knees for a while, contemplating the happenings of the prior moments with a confused look on his face. He started to reach for his neck but lost his balance and fell on his back. There, he felt something he had never felt before. He took his last breath of fresh air, not through his mouth or nose, but through a gaping hole in his neck.

The other attackers had watched it all happen from the corner of their eyes. They were shocked at how swiftly the sojourner had brought their leader to his knees. It all happened in the blink of an eye. It seemed practiced. He was so methodical about it that they began to fear for their own safety. The redhead had been unanimously chosen to lead the group because he was the strongest of them all. With his fall, the others lost their will to fight. One by one, the militants retreated to the shadows, where they would lie in wait till the procession left before recovering their leader’s body. While they waited, they sent a messenger to the militias that lay ahead of the procession to caution them against any attacks.

No one would bother the procession again. Tales of their feat metamorphosed and spread across Stone City before they set foot on its rocky terrain.

***

He would never fully recover from the counter-attack in the woods, he knew it. He saw the face of the redhead every single night in the weeks after their encounter in the woods. It was his constant bedmate. It watched over him every night as he layed down to sleep, waiting for just the right moment to shake him out of his sleep and keep him up until the sun awoke from its sleep to take charge of him and afford him a few moments of shut-eye.

He couldn’t believe it himself. He had been so systematic with his cuts that it distorted his self-image in the days that followed. Did he really know the extent of his abilities? He wondered. He had been so fixated on the task at hand in that moment, so resolved to bring to an end the redhead’s act in the play of life. It bothered him. If he was just discovering that aspect of his person, there could be so much more that he was yet to discover or fully understand. Was he capable of even worse?

***

The plank of wood was a portal that transported him from the opulent world that was River City across the gutter to the world he called home.

After hours of debriefing from the residents of the community, he was finally allowed to return to his quarters to rest. Once upon a time he had had his quarters to himself, but as the economic situation worsened, the number of residents in the community ballooned and so he had taken in two women and their five children. A few months after moving in, they completed their tutelage under him and fully adjusted to life on the other side of the portal. 

***

The children cheered when he appeared in the distance, their mothers on either side of him. Hugs were given. Kisses on the cheek and forehead were demanded. ‘We missed you’ was in abundance. A small crowd ushered him home.

The mothers patched up a meal after a long survey of the contents of the nylon bag he had returned with. Whilst fighting off fatigue, he shared the highlights of his month-long journey to and from Stone City with the children. After dinner was had, the sun gradually drifted off to sleep, prompting them to do the same.

As he settled down to sleep, he stared up at the darkness within his quarters and hoped the layers of tarpaulin, nylon, and repurposed cartons would hold up and keep out the snow and the cold that accompanied it. He pulled his jacket tighter around his body to trap his body-heat, just in case.

With the jacket in place, and the structure of his quarters firmly secure, he knew there wasn’t much to worry about for that night. If all failed, the over-protective rail tracks that ran overhead would keep the community free from snow long enough for its residents to devise a means to keep their quarters free from the cold.

When fatigue began to overwhelm him, he sighed. He didn’t know if he would see the redhead again that night, but for the first time in weeks, he didn’t care too much about it. He was happy.

Happy to be back in the community, with people he had come to know and love.

And although it was far from the ideal, he was happy to be home.