After the Fall

Synopsis:

So many things changed after they came. Some called the destruction of the world as we knew it the Fall. We lost everything. But when they came we were saved. We built a new world with their help, a world without wars or poverty or injustice. But it came at a cost.

Abbi Parrish is a young woman at the edge of adulthood. Unlike her friends and family, she mistrusts the new world and the Ones who brought it into existence. Discontent to follow the path set out for her she befriends the one person who remembers what the world was like before the Fall and with that friendship she finds out the truth.

***

Chapter 1: Sirens

Whenever there are sirens everyone stops. Everyone stops and watches or they close their eyes and they bow their heads. Some pray, if they remember how to pray. Everyone waits for the machines to pass and the sirens to fade away and then things move again.

Gaia says that before the Fall they did this not out of respect for the sirens but because the vehicles of that time could not pass otherwise. Gaia remembers so many things about what the world was like before the Fall. Gaia says that now we wait and we pray, if we remember how to pray, as some kind of unspoken reverence, some tribute we don’t recall but that our spirits recall and so everything stops, everyone stops, whenever there are sirens.

Gaia remembers what life was life before the Fall because she was young then. She says that the world was dirty; people would throw whatever they did not want into the road. She said that the air was hard to breathe and that the people spoke harshly to one another. The world she speaks about makes our heads hurt and our hearts heavy. The world was strange before the Fall but she says the world is strange now too.

Gaia is very old and she can hardly move without pain. The Health Office gives her pills but she won’t take them. She tells me that she sits still and breathes slowly so that she can live longer, so that she can see me grow up and see how the world will be for us next. Gaia may be the last one living that remembers it all and because I am always here with her she asked me to write it down. Gaia has said that there was a time when the people did not have to fear “the poisoning” but they feared it in any case. She said that a touch could not make us sick. Calvin does not believe her but then Calvin has been the emissary of the Governors a long time.

***

It was not clean in this part of the city. Abbi did not care. Her mother was working today in Hyde Park, she would not find out. Gaia’s words rang in Abbi’s head each time she set foot on the North side. “You are safe. You are always safe because you carry it with you. You are a fortress, carrying safety in your body.” Gaia would smile when she said this. She would lift up her ancient eyes to the sky and smile.

Although Abbi’s mother liked Gaia she did not trust her. It was impossible to dislike Gaia, with her wide smile and agile mind. She would listen with intensity, leaning forward as if hanging on each word spoken. Gaia told people that this is the reason she managed to live so long, by listening more than speaking.

Gaia chose Abbi. She said she had been waiting for a long time, listening for a long time and that now it was time for her to speak. She would speak she said, through Abbi. Abbi thought that perhaps it was because she had a good hand. Gaia said it was because a way with words and a way of seeing. She said that she would speak through Abbi but “it must be secret,” she intoned. She looked at Abbi with great intensity, great concern. Abbi nodded in response although she had no idea what it meant.

Abbi made her way across the street, picking her way along the cracked sidewalks. A block ahead of her a young mother walked with her young son. His hair was wild and wiry under the red cap he wore. He looked to be 3 or 4 in the ill -fitting clothing. His clothes were drab compared to the bright hat. Abbi could hear his singsong voice drifting on warm air, carried by the dusty wind.

“Will there be apples?” he sang and his mother nodded smiling.

“Will we come home before dark?” he asked and his mother nodded again.

“What about him?” the boy said, pointing ahead. “What will he do?”

His mother looked up to see who he meant and then pushed the boy’s hand down to keep him from pointing. Abbi squinted to catch sight of his subject.

She saw a man walking toward them, still a few blocks away. He seemed to be tall, wearing a hat pulled down low on his head. When the boy pointed he tucked his face into his coat, flipping the collar up and then shoving his hands in his pockets. When he tilted his head up slightly he caught sight of them coming toward him. Within moments the man crossed the street and disappeared into an alley.

The young mother pulled her son along even as he tried to stare after the shrouded man. They slowed and Abbi overtook them on the sidewalk. She made eye contact with the woman for a brief moment and the woman smiled apologetically. Abbi smiled back, an assurance on her part that perhaps that Abbi was not dangerous, that she was no threat.

When she reached the end of the block Abbi turned left to take the side street shortcut to Gaia’s house. She glimpsed to her right first, out of habit, to be sure she was not being followed but of course she already knew that she would be followed. The Sentries had been following her without fail for weeks. She wondered if they might abandon her today in favor of following the shady man. Even after all these years Abbi was still learning not to be concerned and Gaia was a patient teacher.

She told Abbi often that her first and only hope for their time together was for Abbi to trust, to lean in when she felt most inclined to pull away. When she spoke of things like this Abbi would simply file it away in her head for later but now, she was older. She had been coming to see Gaia since she was a child and she knew in larger and larger measure what Gaia meant. She knew better than to throw away anything Gaia said. The weight of her words grew with each meeting, each conversation.

The sirens began just as Abbi got to Gaia’s street. Abbi stepped to the edge of the sidewalk and waited. She closed her eyes, bowed her head and made a gesture to her forehead and to her heart as the vehicles passed overhead. She could feel the heat of the exhaust on her head and her shoulders. Hovercraft flew only 20 feet or so above pedestrians and traditional land vehicles. Younger folks ignored the craft, trusting the science used to justify their safety. Abbi’s mother still ducked her head and crouched down when they passed no matter how much Abbi’s brother explained the mechanics. When the hovercraft passed Abbi opened her eyes and made the gesture once again. The young mother she had passed walked by her slowly, the child staring at her with some wonder and confusion. He pointed to her then to his head and his heart. Abbi smiled and the mother dragged the boy away. She could hear him asking his mother as they went, “Who was she? Who was she?” Abbi knew why the young woman was so afraid. Everyone had seen the most recent reports. Though cases of the Poisoning were less frequent due in large part to the DNA coding and the subsequent population segregation, there were still cases from time to time. One could become sick and suffer a painful death from a simple touch of skin on skin from strangers or relatives, accidental or intentional. The Poisoning had been tearing at the fabric of community and family for nearly 100 years since the time of the Fall and the Great Flood. Gaia still touches people. She has no fear and those who meet her are drawn to her and allow it. They come from far away for her blessing and the Sentries watch it all without interrupting and that surprises Abbi.

Gaia’s street was old and her house run down, decaying along with the other houses along the road. In other parts of the city the houses had been torn down long ago and built with new, non-organic, non-toxic materials, heat safe, cold protected, long lasting. Gaia and her neighbors had been fighting the Zoning committees for years. Most in her neighborhood were aging and Abbi thought that maybe the Zoning committees were just waiting for them to slip into that eternal sleep rather than raise a fuss with them. She would see the younger, new neighbors smile to each other and shrug whenever one of the “old folks” would complain about the changes in the city. Because she was only 20, they would often let her in on the joking or eye rolling, assuming her position was clear because of her age and her calm disposition. Gaia had taught her this well, to remain calm, to breathe slowly and find that space between difficulty and solution. For Gaia, the answer to most of our fears came from our heart rather than our head. Abbi translated this calmness to the awkward social situations she encountered. She’d never been able to engage people as well as her brother. Abbi always felt she was out of step with the world. She did not care for popular culture, fashion trends, gossip or the dramatic developments of her friends and peers. Although her mother complained about her lack of care where these things were concerned. It bothered her mother that Abbi was not like the other girls her age. It did not bother Abbi in the least.

Abbi stepped onto the worn boards of Gaia’s porch. They groaned and squeaked with each small step she took to the door. Gaia opened the door to her before she even had time to knock. Her beautiful toothy smile welcomed Abbi first. “Here you are!” she said. Abbi pulled open the screen door and stepped into the shabby house, the smell of warmth and lavender greeting her. Gaia was much shorter than Abbi now and Abbi struggled to remember when that had happened. Gaia always seemed so imposing to her, her wisdom and patience acting as an intensifier. Today, Abbi could see her frailty. “You’re well, Gaia?” Abbi asked. Gaia half shrugged and then tossed her hands up. “I am more than a century old, Abbi!” she laughed. She changed her expression quickly, softening and sobering “I am well, of course.” She patted Abbi’s shoulders, “thank you for asking, Abbi.” Abbi took Gaia’s hand in hers and kissed it softly. Gaia in turn, placed her hand on Abbi’s head and spoke soft words of blessing. When she finished she took Abbi’s face in her hands and smiled. Abbi found her seat closest to Gaia and watched as Gaia shuffled to the sideboard cabinet to bring out the book.

Being the first to arrive, Abbi waited quietly. She knew better than to disturb Gaia when she was gathering things for the meeting. Gaia turned to see her sitting with her hands stuffed into the pockets of her sweater. She smiled at Abbi and nodded to the bag that sat at Abbi’s feet. “There, you should write about it” she said. Abbi retrieved her journal, setting it on her lap while she rooted for a pen. Gaia had told her that at one time there were pens and pencils in many colors. After the Fall, the Oversight Committee had banned all color pens and pencils, citing the dangers of toxins used to create them. The black pen she held now was made of materials that would melt into the soil when they were done being used. Though some of her friends sought out the newer, reusable ones made from materials the Governors had offered when they arrived, Abbi preferred the ones still made on this planet. She was comforted by the feel of the instrument in her hand. There were moments she could swear she felt the pulse of the Earth vibrate through it, through her, right into the words she’d write on the page. She closed her eyes, finding that pulse and breathing for a moment.

When I was small my mother brought me to Gaia. Everyone would bring their babies to Gaia when they were small. They would come to her and she would lay her hands on the child, she would sing and she would pray. She would give the parents a few words, “watch words, wisdom words,” she would say. For my friend Inez, Gaia said “sunflowers, light” and for her brother, Gaia spoke “rain” and “fortress.” Parents would write these down and if they prayed, they would include those words in the prayer. I asked my mother how this started, people bringing children to Gaia and she shook her head, “I’m not sure.” She chuckled, “I guess it’s silly.”

My mother didn’t pray words over me, though. She said that she didn’t have time to pray and that she didn’t hold much stock in that sort of thing. It was my father who had insisted that they take me to see Gaia. My father rarely spoke up about things like this and so my mother went along with it.

I was 5 when my parents finally took me to Gaia’s house for the first time and though I was young I remember it clearly. I remember the smell of her soft hands on my head, lavender and lemon. I remember breathing in that smell. She asked if I was nervous and I told her I was not. She laughed so loudly it startled me. She whispered a prayer I could not make out and ran her hands to my cheeks. She placed her forehead to mine and I closed my eyes. Then she kissed the top of my head and thanked me for coming. My mother took my hand and began to lead me out but my father stopped her. “Gaia, do you have words for her?” Gaia looked out through her ancient eyes and smiled. “She has words already, in her, they’ll come out. Do not worry.” My father’s face fell and then Gaia added, “When she begins to write, bring her to me. I have a task for her.” She reached out and took up my father’s hand. She drew him closer to her, “Do not speak of it to anyone, Abram.” He nodded and we left. My mother thought it was a waste of her afternoon. My father brought us out for dinner that night. My parents ate steaks but I was not hungry. It was the first time I remember seeing the Sentries. They stood in the entryway of the restaurant and looked in our direction. One made eye contact with me and then they ducked out. After that, I saw them everywhere I went, only for a moment and always trying to remain hidden. Once they would realize I saw them they would leave. I was not afraid of the Sentries. That night in the restaurant I told my father about the Sentries but he did not look up from his plate. He simply said, “Yes” and he told me not to stare. After that, I did not tell my parents when I saw Sentries watching us.

When it was quiet in the house, before the others would arrive for their meeting sometimes Gaia would tell Abbi about the days before the Fall. She would speak of death and of argument. Gaia was very young when the first arrivals landed. She remembered seeing the crowds gather around the ships and the fear that rippled through the growing crowd as the doors opened and the Governors stepped out. They were taller than any of the people in the square. They wore what seemed to be a kind of spacesuit but not helmet. Gaia thought that they were beautiful, perfect skin and large eyes that exuded soul and wisdom.

***

In the dream, I am in a field of flowers, unlike anything I have ever seen before. They are a carpet under my feet and then as I begin to move they wrap their stems around my ankles, keeping me from moving forward. The sky is clear and blue. It is so bright outside that I feel blinded and though I am rooted to the ground with the flowers at my feet I am not afraid. Instead, I lay down in that field, I lay on my back looking up, flowers grazing my face, encircling my body, lifting me up and moving me forward. I close my eyes and hear the sound of water, current rushing, in the distance. When we reach the edge of the field the flowers tilt my body into the river. The water is cold and I am shaking, with anticipation, with excitement but not fear. I am not afraid.

Gaia always used to tell me that a time was coming when I would need to test my fears. When I am worried or anxious I think of this dream and I find myself in it. I try to remember the feel of the cold water on my skin and my clothing. The dream was so real that I often wonder if it really did happen. Gaia would say that it did happen, that I would remember it when it does finally happen in my waking life. She would laugh when I doubted her. I thought that Gaia was magic, that she would never die, that she would never leave. No matter how many times she hinted that her time was coming to a close I could not imagine it. When I told Gaia that I thought she was magic she grinned and said, “No, I am human. I am fully and completely human and I remember the power in this, the beauty in it and so do you. You just do not know yet how to reach it in your waking life.” She would tell me to be patient. She would tell me to focus on the feelings I have locked up in my body and my thought life. She would tell me to feel everything, to see everything, to listen to everything and that one day I would understand what I was meant to do.