Page 5 of Ablaze

“A map will buy you two nights upstairs and a cold glass of water,” he tells me as he smiles. His smile reveals a gold tooth. “Let’s not do the trade out in the open. Maps are hard to come by, and I don’t want to start a trading war,” he says.

“That’s fine. Just get me to the room, and I’ll give it to you,” I tell him. I want out of the bar and into the shower. The bar is growing hotter by the minute with more people filing in and out its door. I’ve been up for almost 24 hours with my day travelling, and my eyes are growing heavier by the minute. I take one last look toward the man that was at the bar beside me, but he appears to have lost interest. Good, I don’t need another person in my dreams tonight.

The bartender takes me through a door behind the bar, and it opens to a long wooden stairway lit by a gas lamp. The stairs are so narrow we go up single file. At the top of the stairs, it opens into a well-lit hallway. He guides me down it, and I count six doors which can mean only six rooms. We stop at the end of the hallway and outside the last door. He puts the key in the door and pushes it open to reveal the room. Before I can step inside he says, “The map.”

I take the map out of the front pocket of my bag and give it to him. He looks it over and seems pleased. He motions that I can go into the room. He tells me that he’ll bring up my water before the sun rises and something for me to eat. He tells me the shower is located down at the other end of the hall and that it’s a shared shower with the other rooms. He also tells me that the building locks down at sunrise. If I’m not back inside before then, I’ll be locked out for the day. He stresses payment or not, there are no exceptions to this rule. I thank him for his kindness and go into the room. I lock the door behind me and look through the peephole. I walk further into the room and sit my bag down.

The room is small and only holds the necessities. It has a gas lamp on the wall that is spreading light throughout the room. There is a bed with clean sheets, a mirror and a small table. The table holds one folded towel and a washcloth. My room has a window on the far side of the bed, and I move the curtains to look out. They match the dark green curtains downstairs in the bar. From this vantage point, I can see the main street that the cart drove down. The room isn’t a lot, but it will get me through the next two days and nights. It’s the nicest place I’ve been since the disaster. Here, I can rest and build my strength up before making the final day’s journey to the island.

I feel safe here. I might actually sleep through the night. I’ll take a shower when I wake up, and tomorrow night will bring a new dawn… or dusk. I’ll need to get some directions to Antelope, but it shouldn’t be too hard. I can also get some supplies I need here. I can feel it. Tomorrow is going to be a good day.

Sadie

I wake up to the hot sun trying to penetrate through the heavy curtains of my room. I roll over in the bed and can see the sunlight flooding the floor at the bottom of the curtains. The carpet has clearly faded from the constant days of unforgiving sun. I sit up and try to orientate myself. I’m thankful for the fresh glass of water sitting on the table beside me. I drink it greedily until the glass is empty. I check my watch, and there are still a few hours left before nightfall.

I get out of bed and pick up my backpack. I unpack it, count my supplies and take stock of the items that I can still use for trade. I have a handful of diamonds but not as many as I’d like. My water pills are dwindling, but I can always trade some of the jewelry for those. When I’m done counting, I repack my bag leaving some clothes out to change into. I shove my backpack under the bed to hide it. I want to shower before nightfall comes so I grab the towel and washcloth that was left for me and look out the peephole of my door. From my limited view, the hallway looks clear. Since the bartender didn’t leave me a key to the door, I have to leave the room unlocked to get back in. I quickly walk to the other end of the hall and open the bathroom door.

The bathroom has two shower stalls. They also have a stack of clean towels and wrapped bars of soap. I pick up the soap and read the label: The Peach Tree Inn. These have been brought in or traded to get here because I’ve seen no mention of a name on this place. I sit my clothes down on the sink, quickly undress and get in the shower. The showers have no curtains so I’m hoping no one will walk in on me naked. When the clean water caresses my skin, it hits me like a wave of relief. I haven’t had a real shower since before the disaster. I can feel the dirt and grime coming off of me, and the water becomes darker as it pools around my feet. I take my time in the shower. This isn’t my water, and the sensation of showering again feels amazing to me.

When my hands start to become shriveled, I get out of the shower and dry off. I put on my fresh clothes and throw the wet towel into their designated bin. I don’t know why, but I keep the soap label and take it with me. The sun has begun to set, and someone has dimly lit the hallway with the gas lamps. I make it back to my room and before I step inside, I notice the door is slightly cracked. I immediately panic about my bag. Before I can even think about someone being in my room, I push the door open and rush in. My room is empty. Someone has come in to light the gas lamp on the wall. I bend down and pull my bag out from under the bed. I open it and check its contents. Everything is exactly as I left it. I exhale a sigh of relief.

I realize I’m still holding the soap label, so I stick in my bag along with my dirty clothing and zip it up. I put my backpack on and leave the room, shutting the door behind me. I make my way down the narrow hallway that leads into the bar. As I come down, the bar is just opening its doors to the outside. It’s not overly crowded with people looking for a clean drink, but I assume when I return it will be. I nod a hello to the bartender. He reciprocates and lets me know that I’ve got one more daytime stay. I assure him I’ll be back before sunrise and request he reserves my room for me. Once I’m outside, I walk around aimlessly looking at the different storefronts, trying to figure out what I’ll need to take with me. The first thing that I need to get is directions to the island, then I can figure out what I may need.

I walk into a store set up with various items of trade. I notice they have a large collection of maps, and I quickly spot the map that I traded for my stay above the bar. This is the tradesman who can give me directions at least to the island. I wait until the other people looking at his items leave to approach him. “Excuse me, sir. Do you know the way to Antelope Island?”

The tradesman looks at me like I’ve just spoken a foreign language he doesn’t understand. I continue and say, “I’m willing to pay for the information. It’s very important that I get there.” Again, he doesn’t give me a reply. He simply looks at me with this face of confusion. When I begin to think he isn’t going to answer me, and I start to walk away, he responds, “Don’t you know? The Island has been shut off from everyone since the disaster.”

Now it’s my turn to look at him like I don’t understand. I’m trying not to get myself worked up. I don’t want him asking me too many questions in return. “No. What do you mean shut off?” I ask.

“It’s closed off. No one has been in or out of there since the disaster. Besides, no one lives there. It was mainly just animals that roamed the land. People would go there to camp, but no one stayed for more than a few nights,” he tells me. He stands there looking me over. I’m sure the look on my face conveys exactly how I feel: confused, lost and a little hopeless. As I start to walk away from the man, he begins telling me more information. I stop and listen to him.

“Funny thing about it though. Right after the disaster, when people were trying to figure out what to do to get the town up and going again, a group of men got together and started to go out there. When they got out there, they couldn’t even get in the entrance. It had large rocks and debris blocking the way in,” he says.

“I don’t get it. What’s so funny about that?” I ask him while shrugging my shoulders.

“Well for one thing, there aren’t any big rocks or boulders out there to fall that could cause the entrance to get blocked,” he says. He motions for me to come closer and when I do, he drops his voice to a whisper. He gets right by my ear and says, “People say that something was going on out there before the disaster and that the road was blocked for a reason. I don’t know if they’re right, but it’s really odd.” He nods his head up and down to convey his belief of it to me. I can tell this is all the information he’s willing to give me. I thank him for his help and walk away.

The man has given me a lot to think about. It could just be more idle gossip but I have a feeling deep down that he’s right. This town is so much more restored than any I’ve seen. The idea that they don’t know what’s going on around them seems impossible. Maybe they’ve made up that story because they don’t want anyone going there. People could be living the life out there, having a great time with amazing food, clean water and tons of other perks. There is only one way to find out though, and that’s to go there myself. That’s what I’ll do; it’s what my mom was trying to tell me.

It takes me the rest of the night to walk around to various trade stores to find all the supplies I’ll need in my bag. One by one, I gather the essentials to make the walk to the island. I’ve learned from people along the night that the path to and from the island doesn’t offer many spots to hide from the sunlight. I’ll have to head to the island as the sun is setting and get there before it can rise again. I should have enough time to make it there. I have a feeling once I arrive, everything will be okay. The more I’ve thought about it tonight, the rocks blocking the path just sound like a way to keep people in the city. This night has passed by quickly.

I start making my way back to the bar. I want to make sure I’m inside before the sun comes up. I’m carrying several brown sacks and have to push my way inside the bar’s front doors as the crowd is being told to vacate. When the barman sees me, he motions for me to go around to the back. I walk the half block around the building, and he’s waiting to let me in.

“I had just about given up on you coming back,” he says. He eyes the brown sacks I’m holding in my hands and inquires, “Have you been shopping? Looks like a lot for one person.” He shuts and locks the door behind me once I’m safely inside.

It’s none of his business, but since he’s been so kind to me I respond, “It’s just some necessities.” He seems like a nice enough man, but I don’t want to share too much. He walks back to the front of the bar, and I follow him through the hall. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” he says as he goes about his business. He locks the front door and bolts it shut for the daylight hours. He closes the curtains on the windows and has his back to me. I ask him, “What do you know about Antelope Island?”

He stops what he’s doing and turns to look at me. “I know a great deal about it. This is my hometown, and I’ve never left the state. What do you want to know about it?” he asks me.

I decided that if I’m going to learn anything new about the island, I’m going to have to give a little information out myself. “I’m trying to go there. I want to travel there and see what it’s like.” He doesn’t need the whole story, but I need him to know that I want to go there. I tell him, “I’m hoping you can tell me some about it and what to expect.”

He thinks about it for a second and sits down at one of the tables near the window. He motions for me to join him, and I slide onto the bench seat across from him. “Antelope Island was always a place to go and hang out for the day. My family would go there often year-round to camp, have some fun and see the wildlife. That’s what lived there. People would come from all over to see it before the disaster. Now it’s a wasteland or at least that’s what I hear,” he says to me. I nod my head listening to his story. I dare not interrupt him. I want all the information I can get.

“Ever since the disaster, no one has been seen going in or out of there. They say that when the disaster happened huge boulders came crashing down from the mountains and blocked the entrance into the island. The wildlife is trapped in and we are trapped out. If people were in there when it happened, they are probably long dead. There wouldn’t be any way for them to get out for food or clean water.” He sits there silently for a minute, looking down at the table between us.

“Has anyone been out there since the rumors started?” I ask him, hoping to hear a yes. When he tells me a simple no, I don’t press him on it. “Thank you for taking the time to tell me about it. When sunlight comes up tomorrow and your doors open, I’ll be out of your way”.

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