As the wagon pulled away from the land where it all started, destructive fires burned behind them, making it clear that there would be no way to return. They had made this journey many times before, but never like this. It was a one-way trip tonight. From a distance, it seemed like growth and expansion; in reality, it was cover and concealment. There was no plan, but really, was there ever a plan?
When they arrived, it was dark. The woods and interior looked different than they had before. It was lonely, and it held no answers within it. They quietly put in supplies, whatever little they had. Inside, the boy wanted to know where all of this was going. He had no idea what was next. Previously, he had been on the wrong side of the airlock, which was bad enough, but at least those times, he was alone. Now he had companions, and that made it very different. He did not feel any closer to those in his care. Ever since the journey, everyone was weird to him.
As the sun rose, he wanted it to be a play day. It was Saturday. He sat in the sand of the beach, looking at the glistening sunlight reflecting off the water, and wished he had answers. Winter was coming. It was a predator that kept pace with his steps, yet somehow, winter took slightly longer strides. He knew there was no way to outpace it.
Had he fled a month earlier, he could have gone south, to a warmer land without the threat of winter, but that is not what he did. There was nothing he could do about that now. He would have to come up with a solution. Nothing happened. The summer sun got hotter, water was scarce, and food even more elusive.
He looked around rural areas for work, but it never provided results. So they journeyed south, not far from where they fled from, to take temporary work with old friends. The summer spun like a top of changing world events, devastation, and loss of respect. But like an injured animal, friends took them in, and the boy could never quite understand the motives. Forty years later, that equation is even more perplexing.
They journeyed back and forth on the road that led north into the quiet peace of their uncertainty and back south to the psychological tango of mercy and doom. There was no accounting for how they were able to do this. The boy did not even know how they were being sustained. He grew more disillusioned as he continued through the darkness in the light of the days and long dark nights.
The voices in his head were ignited by the comments of those around him, which passively aggressively charged him with self-deprecating feelings. Some days were hot, in the city, in homes of the past. Other days were also hot but filled with children screaming and laughing at the lake, enjoying summer vacation to the fullest. The mercy of infactuation allowed the trickle of poison that kept the boy subdued, always keeping him looking selfish, a failure worthy of conspiritorial manipulation.
Like panic season, the precipice of the end of everything was advancing fast. There were no tricks or scraps from which the boy could construct answers. All resources were depleted, and he failed. Fortunately, it had affected the girl so much that she relented to being left in the lands she once fled. When you are number one, that becomes the prime directive revealed, and all of the facade burns away.
What happened next was similar to what happens when you remove Kryptonite from the vicinity of Superman. The boy's strength began to rise. New ideas that should have previously been obvious came to light, and he pursued them. He was incredibly successful. Resources were at their lowest, so he put every last one into his new endeavor. It was an investment that would win.
The days were fine. He made a decision, and he was surrendering to it. Meanwhile, in the land where the Pease Brothers settled, the girl spun the hourly assessment to determine what words would be used in the next hour. At this point, it was more of an instinct than a plan.
The days and nights went by quickly, and the time came to reunite. He still believed they were a team and sometimes, so did the girl. Things began to have a routine, and life became something that she liked again. It seemed like fate was smiling upon them, so they took the next step to end their wayward wandering and put down roots. This was met with them blatantly being shot down. All of the wars fought in the days of living in the ancient place where a thousand people lived and died rose to smite them one more time.
This knocked the boy down into the dirt, ash, and smoldering timers he thought he had been free of. He smiled, pushed his face out of the dirt, and stood up. He shook the fire from his hair and said, "Did I ever tell you? I love the no-win scenario." He played it their way; now, it was his turn.
Like the perfect campaign of coordinated attack, he left nothing untouched. Every T crossed and i dotted, his assault was bulletproof and held unswerving confidence. Today, he wins; he just needs one more lifeline support from those who will love him forever to finish it. Of course, they made it so.
The boy will never forget finding that the road to where he had been going his whole life went further north. That long climb felt like change; it felt like his 52nd chance. The day was bright and summery, and relief and real life were not only coming, but they were here, and he claimed them. It was not October; it was August. All of June's uncertainty and the following desolation had led them here, on the road to a new life.
With only the little bit they had, they set up the new homestead on a quiet summer day before he had to leave. He would be back in the middle of the night. August meteors streamed over his head in a spectacular array as he traveled home. As he approached home, small fires were burning in the street, and angry people were yelling. He assessed them as he walked to the door, and they quietly watched him walk past.
What had he done? The boy wondered if he had made a terrible mistake, but deep down, he knew he had not. Something about it felt very right. A bunch of drunken idiots who slept like vampires during the day and caused destruction at night. Well, that was something he could handle. He would no longer be pushed by the wind as he had been for the last year. Something had happened to the boy during all of this; he was the captain of his future, and no one would change that. Well, except for the girl.
