“Me, too,” Josh added. “It’s so great, Dad, thank you for letting us see this.”
They considered moss, ivy and mold as great sights? It was a bit sad to hear them say that.
“There.” Falcon pointed to a set of double doors. One was completely covered in moss, the other was open and ivy formed a slight blockade. “It was in there the last I was here.”
Slightly excited, he hurried his children along.
The second they stepped inside the library room, Falcon knew it was there. The display case was covered with green stuff which had crept over the photograph that was perched on top.
Falcon pulled out his handkerchief and wiped off the picture.
“Daddy!” Lilly shrieked. “Is that you? It looks like Josh!”
“Yep. That’s me.” Falcon said as he gazed at the picture of him as a twelve year old holding a box. There was a story underneath it, but the words were covered.
After an airy breath, Lilly tugged Falcon’s hand. “Daddy, we have to take this picture with us. We can’t leave it here.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“We have to try,” she said. “I want this picture of my Daddy. It’s the only one I ever saw of you as a boy.”
“Yeah, Dad,” Josh said. “I’d like us to have it.”
“Then we’ll try,” Falcon said. “But first, what we came here for.” He raised his rifle, and butt end first slammed it down through the thick green covering.
He used every ounce of his strength and with a mighty blow, the glass finally shattered and dropped like magic exposing Falcon’s treasure in perfect condition.
It was a metal box, eight inches long, six inches high.
His hands trembled as he reached for it. It was closed and he knew by the weight that the contents were still in there. His hand smoothed over the engraved words and he basked in a memory of a moment.
“Can we open it?” Josh asked. “You never said what was in there.”
“Not here.” Falcon said. “When we get home, ok? This is special. See this…” Falcon pointed to the front.
Josh’s finger touched the embedded bullet. “Someone shot the box?”
“You know how I always said that the contents of the box meant peace, the end of oppression and war, or at least it tried. Well, this bullet saved someone’s life and to me it was always a symbol that the box was supposed to one day stop all bullets.”
“Keep peace?” Josh asked.
“And maybe, in the right hands…” Falcon laid it in Josh’s hands. “Stop any more wars.”
“It’ll be my treasure now, huh, Dad.”
Falcon smiled. The smile fell when he heard Lilly start to whine. “What’s wrong?”
She crossed her arms. “I don’t understand why he gets the box.”
“You both do,” Falcon said. “But he’s the oldest, so he gets it first. You…” He lifted her up to his hip. “You get to help me free this picture.”
Lilly looked upon the picture of Falcon. “I think this…” She touched it. “This will be my treasure, if that’s ok.”
“That would be fine.” Falcon kissed his daughter, set her down and then worked to free the picture.
10. Little Things
A lot of things brought back memories for Falcon on the return trip—Josh holding that box on his lap, so tight, so secure, just like Falcon had done years before and Lilly in the back of the vike, holding a doll, while holding the picture of Falcon as a boy. She pretended to read the words on the picture. Falcon made a mental promise right away to read that to her when they got home.
But how long would their home last? How long until they were out on the road like every other transient?
For the time being they had food. Falcon was so careful about that. Barter and ration days he got what he could. He stored not only water but food in the pits he had dug. They were small pits with covers that no one knew about, pits he had carefully hidden.
But even then, how long could that last? If it didn’t rain, and if the farm land didn’t come back and the wells replenish, Falcon had a good six months to a year but then he would have nothing.
He, like most, would have to move on.
He thought about that. Maybe if that occurred he’d move the children north near the PML. After all, if the ivy grew, other things had to grow as well.
How wrong his wife was. For years she let people on the land. Anyone with a story, she let them on to live there, to share the wells, to eat the food.
Her attitude was, God blessed the land and it wasn’t right for them to keep it all to themselves.
But with her passing, Falcon had to say enough.
He had stopped people from moving in.
There were so many there already and he had wondered how he could possibly sustain them if the land dried up.
And it did. A year after Stacy passed away, the drought really kicked in and Falcon was glad he stopped more transients from living on the land.
He was already pushing the limits of the resources.
Of course, he was certain Stacy would have kept allowing people to move on the land. And, if he had, instead of six months to a year’s worth of supplies, they’d have nothing.
Stacy was a good soul. Falcon didn’t see him ever being as good as Stacy.
The children… they took after her.
They stopped only for a couple hours that first evening on the return trip. There were no bathing stations, so they just pulled over.
They ate and Falcon told stories. He told about places called amusement parks, because the children had seen a Farris wheel and didn’t know what it was.
On the third night, thirty miles north of Louisville, they stopped at a bathing station. Someone had donated fowl to the camp and everyone feasted on the birds. Falcon was amazed at how well not only their water but also their food had held up.
The horse was also well supplied with water.
Bellies full, they rested. The treasure, the box, had never once in the journey home left Josh’s side.
The journey the next day would bring them home, or close to it.
But just as they hit the beltway that lopped around Louisville, the rear tire on the vike popped.
They had no choice but to stop.
It was something Falcon could fix, he had the hand pump to inflate it, but unfortunately the popped tire was blown.
Falcon would have to find a new one.
They were on the outskirts of Louisville, on the edge of Damage, as Falcon called it. It was a section of the city not burnt or blasted, but rather abandoned after the nuclear weapon fell.
Slowly, Falcon eased the vike off the ramp and into the city.
Weeds had once grown over everything, but had long since dried out from the drought.
There were cars, lots of them. Flat tires didn’t matter, he could inflate them. He just needed one that wasn’t damaged.
He passed an old grade school and pulled over on what probably was a busy street at one time. There was a drug store, long since looted and emptied, and remnants of a fast food restaurant. Businesses and offices were abandoned.
Falcon settled the vike and horse in the parking lot of a deteriorated convenience store and the children walked the block with him as he looked for a replacement tire. It wasn’t too difficult given the vast number of abandoned cars.
They returned to the Vike and he settled the children on a slab of concrete. Earlier in the day he had added water to the jar of dehydrated sweetened beans. Warmed by the sun they were perfect and ready to eat.
He gave them some water and fixed them each a plate. They could have their lunch while he took the time to make the repair.
He heard them talking while he worked on the tire and then Josh approached him.
“You need any help?” he asked.
“No, I’m good. How’s your sister?” Falcon asked.