The Roadmap

The dirt. It was always the dirt. The secrets kept in the soil, years of memories, heartbreak and anguish, storming heels and loafers whose energies of yesterday told a story that nobody else could hear but the earth itself. It was there where he found his mother's locket. Right there, where she used to take him to play in the golden summer afternoons, half-buried near the gnarled roots of what was once his favorite tree, now a twisted phantom of what seemed like a distant past.

It had been roughly 7 years since The War of All engulfed the surface of planet Earth, reducing the once-thriving atmosphere to little more than a gargantuan pile of ash and bone. The explosions blocked out the sun for months, choking the life out of any creature who dare chance not making their way underground, scurrying like terrified rodents.

Lanny was quick to learn how to sneak out quietly from their underworld salvation, which he deemed as more of a catacomb. Weathered gas mask attached to his belt loop, he made easy work out of shimmying through the small skylight window, the moon his only guiding light, melding into the blackness of the forest surrounding their bunker. He knew the truth that everyone felt, but no one dared ask; life had finally returned to the surface above. He yearned for the smell of fresh rain, of new grass, of sunshine illuminating flowers on a warm summer evening, and, God damn it all, he would have it.

He knew very well that his midnight escapades were strictly against the rules. The government long since enforced a special task unit to, "protect the safety" of its citizens. "More like pacify and manipulate them," Lanny thought. He ran through the forest as fast as his legs would carry him until the canopies separated, bathing him in the cool lunar light that reflected like black diamonds on the silent street. He'd lived in Portland his whole life. He knew these streets as well as he knew the veins that ran down his wrists. With a slow, intentional inhale, he jogged towards their tree, just like he did every night after raiding the nearby shops for whatever non-perishable snacks that were abandoned there with the rest of the town. He didn't even know why he brought his gas mask anymore, perhaps out of conditioning. As he nestled underneath their tree, carelessly opening a small bag of Cheetos that were more than likely expired, a glint of something small and metallic shone under the moonlight, so quickly he almost missed it. He bent down, expecting to score an old coin, worthless since before the War but valuable to him as the memory of something familiar. His blood ran cold as he unearthed his mother's locket, half covered by the dirt and ash mixture.

"The Heart is the roadmap that Grants happiness" his mother had always said. As a child, he never knew what it meant, sometimes even growing in annoyance at the frequency with which she used the quote. Before his father passed, Lanny's parents were always planning, plotting, scheming. They'd stored months' worth of rations and supplies in their damp cellar, readying themselves for what seemed like a cataclysmic event that Lanny never thought would actually come.

He still remembers the day the bombs hit, engulfing the majority of human life, hundreds of years of memories wiped away in mere moments. His mother was grocery shopping, like she had every Sunday, toting him along absentmindedly as she carefully selected the choicest fruits from the crisping shelves. In what seemed like seconds, the windows shattered violently. He remembers the mass panic, the screams that were now forever burned into his psyche. He remembers getting separated from his mother, ash-coated tears streaming down his helpless little face. He remembers a large man with rough hands in a black uniform snatching him up and running with all his might, like a quarterback dashing with a football to the end zone. He hadn't seen his mother since.

When he first toyed with sneaking out of the bunker at night, his heart and mind were set on finding her. He'd used his heart as a roadmap, just like she taught him, and he hoped with child-like wonderment that his heart would lead her back to him. For weeks he repeated this cycle, night after night. The weeks melted into months, then years. Now, at 16, he didn't know why he continued to steal away into the dark of night. Was it the comfort of the memories of places they would go together? The thrill? The amazement that he still hadn't been caught? Lanny was unsure. But tonight...tonight was different. Tonight he found his mother's locket.

He tucked it away under his t-shirt, safe from any offenders who dare try and take away the last piece of her from him. As he quietly skulked outside of the bunker, using the ladder to access the roof and re-enter through the open skylight window, his heart was racing, his brow prickled with sweat. A pang of hope he hadn't felt in what seemed like eons thudded in his chest. He snuck back into his tiny room, safe and sound. He uncovered his massive map of Oregon, cloaked by an old, thin blanket he'd been given when he was first assigned his dreary little living quarters years prior. The map was heavily creased with folds, teardrop stains splayed about the veins of the roads at random. The tear in the corner was the only missing piece, and it drove Lanny crazy. He prided himself on his mapwork, cleanly pinning and crossing out every place he'd searched for his mother over the years. He began studying the map, same as always, a new invigoration born within him at the hand of the impossibly that was finding that sacred locket. Hours passed. The exhaustive hopelessness seeped back into his body and mind, eventually lulling him into a fitful sleep in his chair, defeated again, only after opening the locket to stare at his mother and father's picture for the hundreth time that night.

He dreamt vividly, images of his once happy family swirling throughout his subconscious. He felt his father's hug, saw his mother's smile. "The Heart is the roadmap that Grants happiness," she echoed in his mind. Suddenly, Lanny shot up from his chair, as if awakened by an electric shock. He stood up, still woozy and unbalanced from sleep, clicking on the small desk lamp and opening the locket once more. He removed his mother and father's picture, careful not to tear the weakened edges....and there it was. He removed a small, carefully folded piece of paper. It was as if every second of his young life amounted to this exact moment. Unfolding slowly, he knew what it was before he could even see it-the missing corner of the map.

"the Heart is the roadmap that Grants happiness". Grant's Pass. The bottom left corner of the map. She was there. She had been leaving him clues the whole time. She HAD to be there. He knew it like he knew his own heart was beating in his chest. His mother was alive.

He jammed what few belongings he had into his frayed backpack and slipped out of the skylight window for the last time, for once caring little about concealing his noisiness. "Hey! Lannister Callahan, you get BACK here NOW!" bellowed the rotund guard that was the watch keeper of Lanny's wing. Lanny ran harder than he had ever ran before, the red lights and sirens of the bunker blaring behind him. He had no idea how long it would take him to get there by foot, nor of what dangers lie ahead in his path. Days? Weeks? Lanny couldn't be certain, but there was one thing he knew for sure: he was going home.