With All My Love

I remember the day it arrived very well. It would be easier if I could pin-point a date on a calendar such as they did in the before times, but at the commune we don't succumb to such follies, at least that's how the educators described them. I can however tell you that only a few moons after its arrival we experienced the longest day. The day of its arrival was hot, the air was sticky, it felt as if our clothes were squeezing the breath out of our bodies. When we weren't attending our classes or doing our chores, we mostly found areas of shade to hide our skin from the suns punishing rays and laboured to stay protected as the she moved these areas over the course of her attendance.

Being mostly idle imbued a feeling of restlessness across the commune, as if we were trapped in our bodies, kicking the walls of our skulls. The return of the scavengers punctured the mood and the restlessness spilled out into general excitement. It was much the same as when they'd normally return, except the commune’s enthusiasm had evolved in to near frenzy, especially amongst the dependents who were jostling for position near the gate. As always, the dependents ran over to the hunter faction, eager to see what animals they had returned with: alive (for breeding) and dead (for imminent consumption). The matrons cast a wary eye from a distance, knowing they'd have to prepare whatever carcasses returned for a feast before they spoiled.

I always waited to see what the forager faction returned with. They say more and more land is becoming safe to explore and the rate at which this is happening is only increasing. Of course, no land outside the commune is truly safe, that’s why the foragers leave armed with weapons as well as radiation detectors. However, it seemed like each time they returned with a bigger haul, and I was desperate to do my part as well. I was unique among the dependents in being more interested in the fruits of foraging, but I suppose by this point that is inconsequential, as I was soon to become a provider. I had recently passed my assessment in front of the elders and was primed to begin my duties as soon as it was decided what they might be. The educators had been hinting for weeks that I was a matron in waiting but I longed to be a forager.

Gideon was the first forager to walk through the gates of the commune, I sprinted over to greet him with a childish fervour that was unbecoming of a soon to be provider.

"Great haul this time kid" he exclaimed.

I could hardly contain my excitement and replied only with a glancing smile as I tried to brush past him to get to the wagon that trailed behind. He stretched out his arm and stopped me in my tracks.

"There's only boring stuff in there I'm afraid, but you'll want to see this." He pulled an item wrapped in cloth from his pocket and slowly peeled away each corner to reveal what was hiding underneath. There it was, it's golden casing reflecting the sun back into my eyes, a heart shaped locket.

For an outsider to truly understand the significance of this item, I have to go back to the first locket that found its way into the commune, before we even had a word to identify it as such. It was around the time that the foragers became bolder with their exploration, before they had radiation detectors and relied on their senses and an appetite for casualties to guide their path. In turn their bravery was rewarded; along with precious tins of food, they returned trinkets, diadems and oddities, artefacts from the before times. That is how the first locket came into our possession, except back then we didn't know what it was. The educators teach us about the before times, but their knowledge has been limited. As we are many generations beyond the event somewhere along the line history has been forgotten or withheld, leaving us with our imperfect understanding of what came before. Like a cracked window it still serves a function but ultimately produces a distorted reflection. The educators have a few books from the before times, but most are withered beyond comprehension and the foragers never seek out more despite my having asked many times.

As such, when the foragers returned with the first locket, we thought it to be a simple necklace. That was before we released its clasp to reveal a photo of a half nude woman hidden within. This discovery bemused the elders, and they went to great pains to ensure the item was scarcely discussed as to quell any unhealthy curiosities. That is until the collectors arrived. They were men from another commune, apparently blessed with riches we could only imagine. They had no need for our food or weapons as they had plentiful supplies of both, but they visited other communes to trade for items of interest. They were enamoured with the locket.

It was they who informed the elders of the appropriate name for the item, whilst declining to educate them on its purpose. They were willing to pay handsomely for it and gifted our commune its first radiation detectors, the value of which exceeded that of the items they took. They instructed the elders that they would pay well for any lockets that may be salvaged in the future, the most valuable being one's crafted into a so called 'heart' shape. They did however stipulate that next time they must receive them unopened. No human eye was to look upon the contents before it was in their possession.

The lack of intrigue amongst the commune as to the motivations of these men maddened me and with each visit of the collectors my curiosity only grew. They arrived at the commune with increased regularity to inspect items the foragers salvaged. The visits were more of an event when the commune knew a precious locket was waiting for them. The collectors always did their bit to cultivate a sense of anticipation, riding in ponderously on the back of their mules. You could often see the gleam of a locket from a past visit around their neck, tucked away in their dull robes. The elders always presented the locket personally and the collectors would pass it back carefully to the oldest of their cohort loitering at the back of their ranks. He would hold it to the light, in between the tips of his long spindle like fingers, then pull a magnifying glass out of the pocket of his robe and thoroughly inspect the clasp. There was always a collective intake of breath as his beady eye darted about the glass. We only collectively exhaled when he returned his hand to his pocket and declared the locket to have been sealed for a century or more.

This was a fruitful dynamic for the commune, but how could we know an items worth without understanding why it was coveted? Who were the faces inside the lockets? Why did the wearers keep them close to their chest for only them to see? I deduced there must have been a magic locked inside each locket. The collectors were trying to reproduce the experience of their past holders in the before times. Trying to replicate a feeling the wearer felt. A feeling now lost to the world.

They were certainly important. The collectors were not benevolent benefactors, and the precarious nature of our relationship only became apparent a few years later. Whilst out on a scavenger expedition our commune’s forager came across a group displaced from another camp. They too traded with the collectors harmoniously for a little while. However, after giving them their last sealed locket the collectors returned with vengeance, unhappy with what they'd discovered within. The group were the only survivors of the collector’s wrath. We took them in, but they weren't able to tell us any more about what had triggered the slaughter.

One of the girls from the group, Flora, became a close friend. I often insensitively interrogated her about that locket, but she was never able to recall any more about it than that. She did however tell me about the first locket that found its way to their commune. Much like ourselves they opened the first one that came into their possession. She said it contained two photos of elderly people: a man, and a woman. I often stayed awake at night speculating as to who they might have been, and why they were being hidden away in someone's bosom. Flora believed they were breeders, an obviously ridiculous notion. Her reasoning was that the only time man and woman are paired together was when they were breeding. It is of course absurd to think someone would run the risk of identifying their breeders, let alone wearing the evidence around their neck. In our commune speculating as to who may have sired you was liable for severe punishment and identifying them would see you exiled. Rules were very important in the commune, and they were unwavering. If you acted against a decree, you would be dealt the preordained punishment no matter what your reasoning or circumstance.

This hardly matters now, so for the record I always suspected that Gideon had sired me; as he showed me the item in the palm of his hand, I felt a familiarity that I can't really explain. This was however short-lived as I was soon besotted with the new locket. It had writing etched on the front which captured me. It said, 'with all my love'. Self- proclaimed or not, I was the most literate member of the commune, and yet I was dumbfounded. I asked Gideon if he knew what it meant.

"It's just another thing we don't know from the before time kid."

I was keen to press him more, but was interrupted by the leader of the scavengers, Kaven. He announced to the commune that it had been another successful exhibition and made special mention of the locket. He reminded us all that opening the locket was prohibited and punishable with exile, it's always exile.

"We think this ones the most valuable yet kid. We’re setting up watch to keep guard over it. Maybe you should do a shift now you're turning provider. We can see if you're forager material”.

I was elated and couldn't mask my excitement. The dark of night encroached agonisingly slowly as I waited for my watch to begin. I was undoubtedly given a graveyard shift to temper my enthusiasm, but it had little effect. Initially I passed the time sitting guard fantasising about being a forager, discovering legible books and more precious lockets. Then my mind turned to the locket in my presence. What did its inscription mean, and was the answer within? I picked it up and traced the writing with my finger. Maybe this was the reason it was so precious. If I could understand the etching, I could appreciate the lockets value. I could harness its magic, learn more about the before times, or at least feel what the collectors do when they wear them around their neck. I toyed with the idea of opening it, trying to rationalise how the collectors would even know. All the while I was moving the locket around my hand, twisting it nervously in between my fingers. The decision was made for me. I accidently triggered the clasp and the locket sprung open. I instinctively looked away, but the urge to peek was too much. I looked upon its contents as if I were gaping at the sun, like it could blind me if I stared too long. The reality and its implications were worse. All I saw was a white canvas, written on it, 'Place your picture here'.