Creek Breeze

I had already been walking three miles when I arrived at was once the old gas station. I hadn’t been there in years, but always remembered it as the space we as kids hid behind to exchange trading cards and make fun of teachers we couldn’t stand. Everything was -literally- greener back then. The trees shaded us from enormous heat waves, and we hid from monsters, both real and fictional, in bushes and overgrowth. I remember the relief of the breeze now only in my dreams.

Gas is still sold there, but it is practically useless as very few own cars anymore. It’s no longer it’s major source of income for them. The water and snacks were now locked behind enormous containers. The novelty items, like chocolate coffee, and meat can only be requested from the cashier as they are now behind the counter. Those who do buy gas here do little more than stop briefly, mock the occasional flock of migrants, and if we were lucky enough, allow one of us to clean their cars for a small, but priceless fee. That is if their cars aren’t raided. Water is about $8 a bottle and today one bottle will be shared between the three of us. Today we desperately need it. Me, Jessica, and Fredrick figure if we could make it to the next state without getting charged with vagrancy and one of us could find temporary work, we won’t be shot. A blacklisted man in the presence of “homosexuals”, or as the authorities have dubbed us, “deviants” in a country that had declared war on it’s “surplus” people was no laughing matter.

As one nightly news report, disclosing an official authority statement, frequently echoed in our minds, “Luck rewards the laborious”. For years, we’d labored from city to city, day to day, and moment to moment. And it turns out they only care if we labored to be them. If the authorities didn’t make their presence known physically, they made sure we all sang to their tune at all times. Two towns and one mental breakdown later, we were welcomed by a city sign captioned, “We’re all in this together”. Frederick’s eyes welled up in tears. 2 years previously, he had been laid off from his job at the architecture studio and blacklisted from all major design studios after his involvement with a homeless shelter run by dissidents was revealed to his former boss. He thought he was helping, doing a good thing; he did a good thing, didn’t he? Frederick was different from us; he was a “nice boy”, clean cut, obedient, from a “nice” home, and even better neighborhood. His parents pushed him to the limit, and he followed suit in their aspirations. He does good things, doesn’t he? After leaving SceneZ studio, he shifted to the occasional temporary job. One day a Summer heat wave caused his car tires to melt under the sunset of his border town, and he eventually decided to join us up North as we traveled in search of greener pastures.

Jessica rubbed his shoulders. Jessica herself wasn’t just joining the ride, the ride was her entire life. After her parents’ home was repossessed by a bank in the 2008 crash, Jessica gave up all hopes of nursing for dancing of the exotic variety when she turned 18. With all her parent’s savings and investments gone and a wheelchair bound brother, she knew she had to do what she could. It was only the right thing. At one point as children, her and Fredrick attended the same church; they went back. Four years ago, I met her working at the smoke shop next to her club. After 3 nights of drinks and endless chats, we were together for two years. It eventually graduated to a mature and loving friendship, but loving nonetheless.

“We got this, we’re almost there”, she smiled, with her arms wrapped around him. A part of me felt guilty knowing Jessica, gave all she could emotionally to keep us together in ways we otherwise couldn’t have on our own. I was equally charmed and saddened by her heart of gold knowing exactly where it came from. And given the nature of her work, she was the most likely of us to quickly find the work we needed. I rubbed the heart shaped locket she gave me between my fingers, especially at nights when it got cold and we couldn’t pull together enough for a hotel. She told me to sell it if I ever got desperate. But I didn’t have it in me.

Tonight we found a hotel. We sent Fredrick alone each time we got a place because the second they saw we were migrants, the price of the room tripled or doubled. Since the reward for turning in “surplus” people outside of Grade B and C zones, granted Grade A zone citizens immunity for 4 years from being committed either to death or forced labor, ultimately they could charge us whatever they wanted. At this point Grade C Zones were completely devoid of water, utilities at any price, and the majority of the space had been restructured as a work Zone for the remainder of the people in those areas.

Once we got the room there was some relief that this wasn’t going to be a cold night. I switched the t.v. on and viewed the regularly scheduled broadcast which always concluded: “Luck rewards the Laborious”. It wasn’t common to see someone from Zone B on television, but his presence was meant to inspire motivation in all of us. About 30 minutes after the news broadcast, I had wondered when Fredrick was going to get out of the shower. All showers were required to be set at 4 minutes and he had been in for over 30.

“Everything okay in there?,” I knocked.

Silence.

“Hey, is everything okay?!” I began to plead.

“Yeah, I’m fine”, he said expressionless.

“Okay, I’m just checking because you’ve been in there a while,” I began to walk back into the room.

Jessica was fast asleep. I sat next to her wondering what was next.

Would everything be okay really?

At that point I was starving, unshowered for at least three days, and felt compelled to step out.

“Hey, Frederick,” I knocked back on the bathroom door.

“Yes,” he chimed from inside.

“I’m going to step outside for a minute, I’m going to see if I can find any food. Don’t worry, I’ll see what I can get for everyone”

“Thanks,” I heard his words trail as I walked out the door.

After about 7 minutes walking down the road, I saw a few other people. Occasionally we exchanged smiles and for the first time in years, my loneliness disappeared. That moment, I knew he days spent fleeing, crying, and seemingly alone never actually were. Walking to a local creek for 15 minutes I felt a sense of relief and freedom alone. The breeze was fresh and pure, the kind that I often could only experience in my dreams these days. I wasn’t sure how long I could actually stay since most of the area, particularly near the dock, was heavily monitored. What turned started out as a 15 minute walk turned into 30 minutes seated, just thinking. Relief.

Turning back around I knew that I wasn’t returning the same.

_______________ll

Pulling open the hotel lobby door, I heard gunshot on the other side of the building.

“THIS IS THE SURPLUS DETECTION SERVICE” shouts heard from the same direction.

That was supposed to be my cue to run. Instead, I calmly perched myself in a seat in the lobby. The cameras had already seen me at this point. Running wouldn’t have helped. So, I sat, newspaper in hand and waited. A half an hour later, I got up and walked down the hall towards the room.

Inching towards the room, I saw Fredrick on the level below me distracted by officers,

“Yes Sir., the surplus just popped into my room. I think she saw that I had a briefcase and wanted whatever she thought was inside it…”

I did my best to contain all the disgust, anger, and fear I had towards Fredrick at that moment walking down the hall. Eventually came the moment when I had to walk past the room.

There was Jessica, except she was no longer Jessica. I could only see a glimpse of her remains past the caution tape.

“Ma’am I’m going to ask you not to get any closer,” an officer from inside appeared in the doorway.

“Sir, I’m going to ask you for a favor”

He paused.

“I’m a very religious woman and it’s important to my spiritual practice, that I honor the deceased person here”

The muscles in his face relaxed, as he stood was surprisingly convinced. He lowered his arms and took a few steps backwards.

I slowly swept into the room, looked at her, closed my eyes, and clasped the heart shaped locket around her neck. Now I would never have to let it go.

Then I proceeded to glance back at the officer and walk away.