Desolation

Steve stepped in just as she looked back, her face a picture of peaceful happiness. “Do you know how much I love you?” She hugged him. “You’ve made me so happy.”

“All right, let your father and mother see their baby girl’s love nest—”

“Dad,” Darla admonished him with a short punch to the chest.

“This is a fine place to raise a son.” Lisa smiled at her daughter and new son-in-law.

“So, Darla told you?” Steve asked.

“No, a woman just knows,” Lisa answered. “You did a fine job, Son. Hope you don’t mind?”

“No… ah, Mom, I don’t mind,” Steve responded, his voice quaking a bit.

“Come on, out,” Herb called from the walkway, barely audible with all the rock separating them. “Let me show you where we get our water.”

By the time they got back to the walkway, Herb was already walking down the way they had come. Darla and Steve followed from the back, their arms wrapped around each other’s backs, Darla’s belly leading the way.

Herb turned into another tunnel entrance at the ground level, near where they had come in, and disappeared. They all tentatively followed him into the darkness. Their eyes attempted to adjust to the only light they came upon, a single torch on a wall. Herb grabbed another, touched it to the lit one, and handed it to Bill and Lisa. This was repeated until seven lit torches cut through the darkness. Torches held aloft, Herb led them through a winding series of tunnels, each going down at a fairly steep angle.

Only a few steps into the first descent it became cooler, and the air was heavy with moisture. Several of them wrapped their free arms around their chests to stay warm. When they reached what looked like the end of this passageway, they could see a small entrance to another dark void. Herb placed his torch in the wall, in an obvious bracket. Sally watched her brother-in-law place his in another bracket on the wall and she placed hers into yet another. The others followed suit. When each bracket held a torch, the room was quite well lit. In the middle of the floor was a wooden pulley with a hand crank and rope rolled up around a two-foot spool. At the end of the rope was a bucket resting on its side, beside what looked like a round wooden door in the floor. In the distance was the muffled roar of running water.

“This is where our water comes from.” Herb lifted the wooden door and the sound cascaded out and around the room. It filled their senses with the aroma of a mountain spring. Herb had to shout now, competing with the water’s booming voice. “This was also here long before I bought the place. The crank and bucket are probably a hundred years old, although I’ve added some new parts. But the hole above the water you hear has been here for at least a thousand years, probably a lot more. This aquifer runs this loud year round.”

Max wondered how many years their water would last before it dried up, unless of course Cicada found an answer. He kept this thought to himself. “How deep are we, would you guess?”

“I’m guessing about one hundred fifty feet. The stream is another twenty feet down.”

They continued on their tour marveling at what had been built so long ago, yet remained so functional today. Their show-and-tell also provided a perfect detour—it would be one of many—from the decision each of them faced, but none wanted to make.

58.

It’s a Boy… and a Girl

Days turned to weeks and then a little over a month, when all decided to wait for the new births before rendering their final decisions. Max decided not to press, figuring they’d waited this long to get here, a little longer wouldn’t hurt anyone. Darla and Olivia had their babies within two days of each other. Darla, as expected, “popped” first, and two nights later Olivia had her baby girl, albeit prematurely. Both babies were healthy and so were their mothers. It was a joyous time for everyone, to see new life in a land that for the past year had only shown them death.

Darla sat in her favorite soft chair—a house warming gift from Herb—in their “new” living area, with the baby crib beside her. Her chair was pointed toward the outer opening to their cave home, giving her the best light. She uncapped the fountain pen and began her next journal entry.