Eden

“Next!”

Terence belted again as he had done for several hours.

The rain that had flooded the overgrown lawn earlier in the afternoon now remained as a slight drizzle, a nagging reminder of the woes that had enveloped Eden for the past several months. Pools of water dotted the flooded lawn, now gleaming purple lights against the grey evening, reflecting colors from the pristine skyline just across the river.

Five thousand linear feet of fencing, all watched by men dressed in black vests and assault rifles, made Eden a cage for the residents that had made it a home eleven years ago.

"What are you saving us from!" Yelling in the park - the freaks had been spending a lot of time together. Some of them had brought signs this time, demanding freedom from the refuge that had become a prison.

“I said next!”

A very thin man, who had spray-painted his naked body silver, now wandered in front of Terence at the food station. Terence could tell that his ruse had not drawn enough attention from the crowd tonight, because once the silver man had stepped into the front of the line, he began to perform a dance. The man grimaced as he bobbed his hips and tossed his arms, which flailed like thin, leafless branches tossed by a rough wind. At the end of his jig, the man bowed low before Terence and cupped his hands together, providing an open bowl for an act of mercy. Terence shook his head once and then yelled.

“Next!”

By now, the line had extended to the buildings across from the park. A fragile-looking elderly man with a stringy beard was counting his coins and shuffling his feet to the food station, but the silver man was not ready to give up his spot in line. He flapped his arms in a violent motion, and then stood with his hands firmly clamping his bony hips. Terence's calloused hands found the grip on the maple bat he kept underneath the plywood table, and pulled it into plain view for the begging man to see.

"The war's over!

“There are people over there, with food!"

The shouting in the park was becoming louder, but any act of violence would result in immediate suppression, and Terence held the opinion that the town could use fewer screaming freaks.

Once the silver man was convinced that Terence was not bluffing with the bat he held firmly in his meaty hands, he dropped his shoulders and moped away. The older man shuffled his feet, scraping the muddy sidewalk, to replace the disappointed entertainer in front of Terence. The man opened his dirty hand to reveal three rusted coins, each stamped with the image of an oak tree. He released them into the steel bucket on the table, resulting in a dull shuffle of steel. Terence dropped the baseball bat onto the cracked sidewalk below his knees and scooped one portion of rice, and half a portion of beans into a plastic bowl, his eyes pointed away from those of the elderly man.

Instead, Terence let his eyes wander to the muddy field, where there were dozens of performers and beggars like the silver man, all trying to entertain the guards and the less-famished residents for coins or food. A juggler, decorated in a battered three-piece suit, was tossing three baseballs into the indigo sky and had drawn a crowd of several onlookers. Terence's gaze lasted long enough to see the juggler drop the balls and fall from his painted wood platform to a discharge of applause and laughter from the audience. His attention was reclaimed with an impatient "eh-hem" from a few feet away.

The colonel was standing across the table with a smug look on his clean-shaven red face. "Only ten more, then we're done. The guys are ready to go home." The colonel growled his order, and then strutted away before Terence could speak. Terence nodded his head and took a breath before bellowing into the bitter air.

“Next!”

A young woman with short brown hair and large silver eyes glared at him, her face tense. Her eyes were aimed at his own, but he quickly turned his attention to her right hand, which was clenched into a fist.

"Three coins.”

A tear ran down her face, which she neglected to dry. In a jerky motion, she brought her right hand and released the contents onto the table. A locket fell to the wooden surface with a dull thud, a rusted chain sprinkling down on top of the heart-shaped pendant. Terence stared at the necklace for a brief moment, and then made eye contact with the woman, whose pale face was now flooded with tears.

"Please." He shook his head slowly - if she didn't have coins, then she wouldn't be eating tonight.

The woman nodded, and walked towards the south exit of the park, leaving the locket behind.

“Next!”

A mother and son walked up to the table. The mother handed Terence three coins, and whispered something that Terence did not bother to understand. He handed her a portion of rice and half a portion of beans. They would be two of the last to eat on this gloomy November evening.

...

Terence let out a grunt as he lifted the steel box holding Monday's food portions with one of the other caretakers, and started shuffling towards the lockbox in the shed to the side of the park. They moved under the scarlet banner that welcomed refugees to the township, “EDEN PRESERVATION CAMP” printed in bold letters.

The freaks had mostly left by this point, but a few of them had stayed to yell at the caretakers.

"Let us free! We're not animals!"

"Novel didn't want this!"

Once Terence and the other caretaker had dropped the container into the steel lockbox, he hooked a heavy padlock through the two rings on the front of the storage unit and clicked the padlock shut. Terence patted his back pocket to confirm that the brass keys were still with him, and then turned his hips to face the large brick structures that had become a shelter for the people of Eden. He followed the road west, and then turned right onto the street where his father had brought him eleven years ago. Street lamps still provided a dim source of light, although it was too dark for the numbers on the buildings to be read. Some of the graffiti that lined each side of the street was large enough to be seen, however, although Terence knew better than to look.

The rainwater in the potholes glowed amber, the color of a city at rest.

Something moved up ahead. Terence continued walking, but reduced his pace and strained his ears. Faint squeaks cut through the otherwise silent night. Several rats had congregated before the four-story building where Terence lived.

"Get out!" he yelled, although the rats did not yield to his baritone roar. He reached down and gripped a rock from the side of the walkway, raised his arm, and hurled it at the mass of rodents in front of his home. The rock missed the rats and skipped off the cement path, but it was enough to scare the crowd away from their dinner, which appeared to be a heap of bony limbs.

Terence's stomach growled - he was cold and hungry, but some instinct, primal or otherwise, urged him forward to inspect the body that lay still on the pavement. There was no repulsive stench coming from the motionless form, and there were clothes were still draped over its thin profile.

A mop of brown hair covered the face of a woman who had died here earlier in the evening. Her body lay sideways, and Terence pushed her right shoulder down to reveal her face.

Almost immediately he jumped back, shaken by the damage already done by the rats.

His fingers found the cold metal necklace in his coat pocket. Now he opened it, revealing a small photograph inside, carefully trimmed to the heart-shape of the locket itself. Dr. Edward Novel looked back at him, his blue eyes surrounded by round glasses low on his plump nose. About two feet below his eyes were those of a little girl, metallic ones that stared at him with an expression of hope that he had almost forgotten. On the other leaf of the locket were the four engraved words:

To my dear Eden.

Terence gripped the open locket in his bare hand, walked towards the deceased woman, and laid it on her chest.