The Great Rift

Journal Entry 7,300

It has been 20 years to the day since the Great Rift, and I am still having flashbacks. Just last night I saw my wife, Sorte, I believe I used to call her. It has been so long since I’ve had a memory of her. I could actually smell the vanilla perfume in her long dark hair. The smell aroused some deep feelings that were long forgotten.

All I have left are a few words and this locket. The picture is nearly faded, and yet on occasion I can see all their faces again. Sometimes they even call me dad. Today, however, I remember my wife. Today she is the reason I will press on. Today she is the reason I will be the great Alcalde.

Alcalde put down his pen, ran his hand over his beard and tried to remember his real name. “Maybe”, he thought, “Just Maybe she’ll remind me who I was in a dream.”

As Alcalde packed up his meager camp he considered what brought him to this place. A rumor and a whisper of a place where people chose to get along and build a new society. People had called it ‘The City of Accord’. No one knew if it was a city, town or just an area where people lived. They all just said, “Go east.”

As Alcalde ascended the last 800 metres to the mountain pass a flood of emotions filled his mind and body. Joy, sadness, passion, guilt, love, hate, and fear. He felt them one at a time then all at once. Then his mind went back to the first day....

Journal Entry 1

Today is the first day of my new life. I don’t remember what has happened in the past. I don’t remember my name. During the Great Rift something hit my head. Roy, Chantelle and James found me and nursed me back to health. I have a scar on my head to remind me of the Rift. Roy gave me a small satchel of things they found with me. In it were keys to a truck that no longer existed, a very nice hunting knife, a locket with a photo of a family and a torn piece of paper.

The photo seemed to be of my family. One side of the locket was a watch and the other the family photo. The date April 22, 2000 was engraved on the back. It is possibly the date of our wedding, because I am too old for it to be my birthday.

The writing on the scrap of paper was: “I am Thankful. I am Intentional. I am Profitable. I am Beneficial. I am Wealthy. This is what I live by!”

I will continue to live by these words.

Alcalde had climbed about one third of the way up to the mountain pass. Somehow he knew up there he’d find truth, or at least some answers to the many questions that had crossed his mind over the past 20 years. So much had happened after the Great Rift.

He decided to take a break as the next couple hundred metres looked very treacherous. Resting on a boulder, Alcalde took a long drink of water from his canteen. Then, he began to flip through his journal to remember some of his journey...

Journal Entry 100

It has been about 130 days since the Great Rift. After travelling around with Roy and Chantelle we discovered that the nation was under Marshall Law. The government was in chaos and due to the destruction of the earthquakes. Some of the smaller towns were not affected too much, but larger communities were basically riot zones. Crime is terrible. Because people are so scared no one is coming together to help lead people.

We found a mining camp near Red Lake that seems welcoming and reasonable. I’ve offered my assistance to the leadership. It seems I have some past knowledge of farming and taking care of animals. Roy and Chantelle decided to stay here.

It is amazing how quickly people forget the way of cooperation and peace.

Breaktime was over. Alcalde did a few stretches to warm up his muscles for the steep climb ahead. The next couple hundred metres would be much like a solo climb without ropes. There were a few trees along the path. In some places the stones were almost cut like stairs.

Alcalde strapped on his backpack and began to climb. At first it wasn’t too bad, but after about 5o metres his finger muscles began to ache, and his legs began to shake. His age was catching up. Alcalde figured he was close to 60 years old. The constant struggle of the past 20 years had kept him fairly young. He was absolutely determined to make it to the Mountain Pass. He had been told that he’d find answers. Alcalde’s resolve drove him on for another 75 metres. As he reached out to grab a tree his foot slipped. Time seemed to stand still. Alcalde noticed a bush just below the tree and grabbed at it. He felt the leaves sliding through his grip, and with one last squeeze and a loud roar his fall stopped. Finding a foothold Alcalde pulled and pushed his way up to the tree. Once sitting on the roots of this precarious pine he took a moment to collect himself and take a drink. Alcalde closed his eyes and let his mind go back.

Journal Entry 2,000

Around 2035 the Great Rift happened. In North America alone 3 places split apart. The Rocky Mountains split off of the mainland and shifted about 1 kilometer into the Pacific. Canada split in half, and some of the Appilacian mountain range moved into the Atlantic. People are going crazy because of fear.

I’ve fought my way through gangs, thugs, bandits and packs of wolves. I will continue travelling east to find two things. I will find this city of Accord and understand my memory of a farm in Newfoundland.

Today I will leave New Montreal, the old Montreal vanished into the river during the Great Rift, and travel to a Mountain Pass just past Blanc Sablon. A traveller told me that answers could be found up there. I will follow the river and then move up the coast. I think my journey finally has some purpose.

As Alcalde’s mind came back to the present he was even more determined to reach the mountain pass. He put his water in his backpack and stood on the tree roots assessing the next 120 metres of climbing. Seeing a ledge that led to the “stairs'' he gave a great shout and lept as far as he could reach. His left hand fingers just held on, and using his momentum he pulled himself up until he was sitting on the bottom of the natural stairs. They were very steep, and with careful determination Alcalde made it up to the trail.

His body now completely worn out and shaking from the climb, Alcalde allowed himself to surrender to sleep for a short time. Sorte met him again. This time she was calling him. She wanted him to go somewhere. Alcalde could almost hear her call his real name.

All of a sudden the dream changed and Sorte yelled sternly, “Get UP!”

As Alcalde climbed the last two hundred and fifty metres up to the Pass, Alcalde’s mind went back to two days ago when he passed through Blanc Sablon.

Journal Entry 7,298

No one will talk to me.

The old lady of the town gave me an envelope with a letter in it. She motioned toward the mountain with the letter and I understood that I was supposed to wait until I got to the top to read it.

As Alcalde rounded the final corner past a giant boulder it seemed like the heavens opened up before him. The rays of the sun were visible in the bright sky. A few fluffy clouds danced in the breeze. Off to his left a small cabin stood. In front of Alcalde was the most beautiful view of the ocean, sky and land. And there was something else. His heart leaped for joy. Off in the distance just barely discernible was a rugged coastline beyond the ocean. Something inside of Alcalde broke and tears began to stream down his face blinding him from the view. Instantly he knew it was Newfoundland. He was looking across the Strait of Belle Isle to the rugged coast of Newfoundland.

Alcalde’s thoughts were interrupted as he felt a warm gentle hand press against his shoulder. With tears still streaming down his face Alcalde turned to see a grisly old man worn by the years motioning for him to come to the cabin.

“The Great Rift has taken its toll on all of us who survived,” the old man said as he put a cup of birch tea on the table in front of Alcalde. “Your story has been reaching us for many years now. We knew that you’d come eventually.”

“How did you hear about me up here?” asked Alcalde.

“About ten or fifteen years ago we heard about a man travelling across the land helping people and teaching them to farm the land.”

“I am just trying to live my life by the golden rule and teach others what little I know so that we can all survive this nightmare,” replied Alcalde.

“True, True,” laughed the old man, “We all need a hero every now and again!”

Alcalde remembered the letter. “I believe I have a letter for you. An old lady in Blanc Sablon gave it to me to bring to the top of the mountain. I thought it was for me to read, but now I know it was for you.”

The old man opened the letter and began to read. A tear slipped down his cheek.

“Well, if grandma says you’re the one I guess I can go back home now.”

“Go home? I am the one? I just got here. I need answers. I mean I came here for answers,” shouted Alcalde.

“You don’t need me anymore. You’ve found your answers,” said the old man pointing across the Strait toward Newfoundland. “Spend a couple nights here and the answers will come. They are not here, the answers are inside of you. They are locked away under that scar of yours. I have been here keeping this cabin warm for you for a very long time. It’s time for me to go back to grandma.”

Alcalde sat in stunned silence as he watched the old man gather his few belongings and get ready to go. Before he walked out the door the old man turned and said, “By the way your name is John.” With that the old man was out the door and gone.

Upon hearing his real name Alcalde, or rather John, began to seize violently as an old life of memories began to break through into reality! He fell to the floor and everything went dark.

Journal Entry 7302

When I heard my real name all of my life before the Rift came flooding back. When I looked at the locket today I remembered everything. It was a gift from Sorte on our tenth anniversary.

I had gone to Kenora to buy a herd of goats for our farm. Before I could return the earthquakes started and the Great Rifts began to open. I got caught in the hotel during the Rift and was crushed under a pile of rubble. Roy and Chantelle found me there.

Now I know. Now I remember. It is time to go home.

Knock, Knock, Knock. Someone knocking on the door interrupted John’s thoughts and journal entry. He got up and cautiously approached the door. He opened the door slightly. The sight of the man on the other side caused him to swing the door open and shout, “Micah!”