by Paul Stansbury
Will was searching the skies over the Barrens.
“Will, stop daydreaming,” Ryan called. He stood up, stretching his aching back. “If you want any supper tonight, we need to finish digging the blueroot before nightfall.”
“I wasn’t daydreaming, I was looking for it.”
“You won’t see it.”
“Why?”
“Because it landed last night. They’ll be off loading today. Tomorrow, those leaving will board. Takeoff isn’t scheduled till tomorrow night. Now, I suggest you finish your work before it gets dark and you have to finish your chores by the light of the moons. Tomorrow night, everyone will gather on the commons to watch. We’ll join them if the chores are done and unless todays chores get done, tomorrow’s chores won’t.”
“Yes, Dad.”
Daylight had faded into dusk by the time Will and Ryan returned home. “Take some roots to your mother for the pot,” said Ryan, lowering the handles of his cart to the ground. “I’ll put the rest in the cellar. Make sure to wash your face and hands before you go in.” Will went to the washboard, threw some water on his face, and rinsed his hands. Returning to the cart, he untied a gathering sack and pulled out two handfuls. He ran to the kitchen.
His mother, Landra, was peeling the skin from a fat, bog eel when Will entered. His sister Rita was sitting in her highchair banging the tray with a wooden spoon. He inhaled the sweet aroma of seedgrass bread baking in the oven. Placing the vegetables on the table, he said, “Dad says we will go to the commons tomorrow to see it.”
“Let’s get supper cooked before we think about tomorrow, and we will not have supper tonight until those are washed,” she said.
Will carried the vegetables to the sink. He scrubbed the knobby roots with his hands.
Landra had finished skinning the bog eel by the time he brought the roots back to the table. She placed them on the cutting board with the still twitching eel meat. After chopping all into bite sized pieces she dumped the lot into the cooking pot with a handful of herbs.
Ryan walked in, hair still damp from washing up after the day’s work. “Look who’s stopped by,” he said. His brother Logan popped his head in the door.
“Safe to come in?” he asked.
“Wipe your feet,” said Landra.
“Good to see you too, Landra.”
“There’s plenty in the pot if you care to stay for supper, that is if you have some room in your stomach for something other than ale.”
“Well thank you much, sister-in-law, but now that you mention supper, seems that Zane is frying up floppers and chips down at The Landing Pad. As much as I would like to stay for some boiled whatever it is, I think I’ll pass. See, they’re having a sendoff for those that’s leaving tomorrow.”
“Cutting it close to get to the transport aren’t they?” asked Ryan. “Most have already left.”
“Oh, they got plenty time to cross the Barrens if they start tonight,” said Logan. “I still don’t understand why you two didn’t scurry over to the transport and hitch a ride outta here.”
“You forget we are first generation,” said Landra. “This is all we have ever known. Most of those who are transporting out are migrants brought in by Wooton Outlands Exploration to bolster production. They just follow the work. ”
“Like bringing in more people to feed and house when this planet couldn’t sustain an export economy was gonna be successful,” said Ryan.
Landra continued. “They’ve got nothing to keep them here. Why wouldn’t they just go on to the next planet?
“Makes sense,” added Logan.
“Then there are those who believe greener pastures are to be found at the end of the next rocket ride.”
“Okay, I hear what you’re saying, Landra. Why don’t you tell me what’s so good about this planet that makes you want to stay?” barked Logan. “You might as well be migrants, scratching in the dirt for a subsistence living. Maybe there is a greener pasture out there somewhere. Aren’t you curious?”
“Tell me Logan, what’s keeping you from going?” Landra shot back.
“Me? I just couldn’t tear myself away from the friendly confines and the sweet concoctions of The Landing Pad.”
“More than likely, you’re afraid Wooton Outlands Exploration may take you to a planet where you would actually have to work for your keep.”
“Let me tell you, finding things that people want in return for some credits takes a lot of work. I consider it a valuable service to the community,” said Logan
“Or is it you might be leery that once you crossed the Barrens, someone might finger you as the person who’s been pilfering the Company’s grain stores for Zane’s illegal brewing operation.”
“Well, having a source of free ale was a necessity in my opinion,” said Logan, “Though it looks like I’ll be a paying customer like everyone else from now on. I’ll be on my way now. At least I’ll get a warm welcome at the Landing Pad.”
Ryan waited until Logan left before he asked Landra, “Are you sure we’re making the right decision to stay? There’s no guarantees we can make a go of it. Wooton Outlands Exploration will not be coming back. We still have time to pack up and cross the Barrens.”
The next day, Ryan was trudging along with Will in his arms. “Hurry! We still have time to get a good spot if we don’t dawdle. Landra, how are you doing?”
“Don’t worry about me,” she said, repositioning Rita on her hip.
The sun was setting as they joined the others in the area outside the village called the commons. It was perched on a bluff where rolling inland prairies of seedgrass met the rocky Barrens. Brilliant stars began to shine in the clear night sky. The moons had cleared the horizon. Their reflected light danced off the silica rich rocky outcroppings of the Barrens. The tall, wispy seedgrass looked like a lavender sea, undulating in the ever present breezes.
“This is the spot,” Landra said to Will, “where your father and I, along with the others, gathered after we crossed the Barrens to set up our off-grid community. Away from the prying eyes of Big WOE.”
Laughter and singing filled the night air as the villagers assembled.
Landra spread out a large blanket, then sat down, cradling Rita, in her lap. “Hand me the basket,” she said to Ryan. Landra opened it and retrieved the wild yellow berries she had picked earlier, handing a bunch each to Ryan and Will. Keeping a small portion for herself, she offered a breast to Rita who eagerly began to feed. Will popped a fat berry into his mouth and bit through its slightly bitter skin, allowing the sweet pulp to explode in his mouth.
“Ryan!” Logan shouted, as he waded through the crowd. He held a large mug high above his head. Its amber contents glowed in the moons’ light. Reaching Ryan, he slapped him on the shoulder with his free hand. “What say you, brother? Will you be joining us at The Landing Pad after the viewing? Zane has brewed up a new version of his awful swill in honor of tonight. Calls it ‘Away They Go Ale’. More than likely, them that drink it will call it ‘away to the outhouse’ in the morning.”
Landra glared at her brother-in-law.
“Will, say hi to your uncle Logan,” said Ryan.
Yellow juice rolled down Will’s chin. “I, Ungle Ogan. Can nive some ‘to go wail’?” he asked through berry-stuffed mouth.
Logan looked at Landra and grinned. Bending down close to his nephew, he said, “No, no, Will my boy. I don’t think you’d like it very much.”
“Neither would his father,” muttered Landra.
“That’s right,” said Ryan, “got to work tomorrow. Don’t need to contend with the aftermath of one of Zane’s concoctions in the morning. Besides, I don’t really see this as a reason for celebration, thought that was last night.”
“Oh, that was a private party, so to speak. What about all these others?” Logan asked. “If we’re not celebrating, why throw a big picnic?”
Landra’s eyes flashed. “It’s not a picnic,” she said. “It’s a gathering to remember, to take a last look. For the young ones, like Will and Rita, it is a chance to learn.”
“Still looks like a picnic to me,” grumbled Logan. “Anyhow, won’t Will and Rita learn all about it at school? We’re still gonna have teachers ain’t we? Anyway, everything that happened before today is ancient history, I say.”
Sensing the growing tension between Landra and Logan, Ryan interjected, “How about we agree to disagree? No need at this point to take up arms over why and why nots. It’s too pleasant an evening to ruin by bickering.”
“Suit yourself,” Logan said, glancing at Landra. After taking a long drink from his mug, he looked around the commons for a graceful exit. “Say, there’s Karl over there,” he said. “I need to have a word with him, as I have some goods he asked me to find for him. So, begging your pardon, I’ll take my leave.” He clapped Ryan on the shoulder and nodded to Landra. “Take care.”
“You too,” said Ryan. He looked at Landra and smiled. “I wouldn’t have gone to Zane’s, you know. I gave that up when we got married.”
“I know, but it seems your brother isn’t aware of it or doesn’t care.”
“Give him a break, Landra. He cares. More than you know. Keep a sharp eye out, Will,” Ryan said, pointing across the barrens. “It should appear on the horizon anytime now.”
“Do the stars come out of the Barrens?” asked Will.
“No, but it looks like they do. I’d explain how the stars come to fly across the sky now,” said Ryan, “but it would take too long. Remind me tomorrow and I’ll tell you all about it.
Anyway, at the moment your job is to watch.”
“I see it!” someone shouted.
“Where?” asked another.
“There, to the right.”
All heads turned. A murmur of excitement swirled through the crowd, which erupted into a collective gasp. Landra stood up, holding Rita to the sky. Will tugged his father’s hand.
“What is it, son?”
“I can’t see. Everyone is standing in front of me.”
Ryan lifted Will to his shoulders. “How’s that?”
Will looked over the heads of the crowd and across the BCinoabarrens as a bright streak broke free of the black horizon. “I see it, I see it!”
Flashing between the two moons, the bright streak soared overhead. They watched in silence until its bright glow blinked out among the stars. Ryan lowered Will to the ground.
“Where’s it going?” Will asked. “They wouldn’t tell us.” “Why?”
“That’s the very question we asked after we received the notice,” answered Ryan. “Wooton Outlands Exploration says it’s costing too much to keep the colony going. Leave or stay here were the only two choices they gave us. The Company sent that one spaceship for those who wanted to leave; everyone else is on their own. They won’t say where folks will be relocated. It’s classified. Could be most anywhere they have a need.”
“Why didn’t we go?” asked Will.
“We don’t know what might be in store for us on that spaceship,” said Landra. “At least here it’s up to us to determine our life to come. ”
“Will we ever see them again?” asked Will.
“I doubt we’ll ever see any of them or Wooton Outlands Exploration again,” said Ryan. “I think it’s safe to say the Company has given up on Deraddon 4. They’ve abandoned us. So I guess we are free to pursue our own future.”
“So what do we do now?” asked Will.
“I suggest we give this planet a new name,” said Landra.
“And what name would you suggest?” asked Ryan.
Landra pulled Will close while she reached out for Ryan’s hand. “There’s really only one choice. Home. We’ll call it home.”
Paul Stansbury is a lifelong native of Kentucky. He is the author of Inversion – Not Your Ordinary Stories; Inversion II – Creatures, Fairies, and Haints, Oh My!; Inversion III – The Lighter Shades of Greys; and Down By the Creek – Ripples and Reflections. His speculative fiction stories have appeared in a number of print anthologies as well as a variety of online publications. Now retired, he lives in Danville, Kentucky. www.paulstansbury.com