The Fern Tender Read Free Page B

Colony was up ahead - it was static for hundreds of generations, the Capital behind - it was static with greed and politics.
         Once past the base, the road turned to a lonely one lane track and traced through miles of deep gorge. The forest grew darker and thicker the further she drove. The river slashed down into the ring of mountains severing the Colony from the modern world.
         Finally, the guard post appeared. Chris, the “guard” ran out in the middle of the road to meet her. “Hi Lillian! Going home?” he was excited. It had been 3 days since someone last drove through the entrance to the Colony.
         “Yep, Chris. Me again. Long time no see, at least 3 days man,” she humored him.
         They liked their isolation jokes. It was really all Chris had. The Capitol assigned him this position after a feature in the Times about veterans with Purple Hearts not being able to find work. He’s been here with his family, living in a no man’s land in between two worlds for the last 11 years.
         His kids poured out into the lane. She stopped the car and gave fist bumps to all four of them. Chris’ wife ran out and gave her a jar of her speciality, canned stewed cherries. Thanking her and telling everyone bye, she drove on. She reflected on the times his wife had been away and she could have settled for Chris under the palms by the river shoals. That would have gone against one of her own few rules she'd made for herself though - never with someone you would see again. Telling herself that she really hadn’t broken that rule recently, she changed the subject in her mind.
        The river forced the lane up against the gorge wall, now it was almost at sea level even though it’s final exit into the Gulf was still 250 miles away. The cliffs towering for tens of thousands of feet over the trees, higher than the Himalayas making this part of the drive a perpetual shadow accept for the hour or so a day when sun aligned perpendicular to the river bed. The ease of driving into something so important to the world really was a joke, she thought to herself. Moving on, at the true border, the shadow of the gorge merged into the Southern face of the cliffs and the rain, sun, humidity of the Colony began. Passing underneath the stone pillars given to the Colony by President 46, she let her mind wonder what her husband was cooking for dinner tonight.
         At dusk, she pulled into the driveway. The crunching of the oyster shell Colony road finally gave way to silence. Adjusting her thoughts for her re-entry to home, she took a breath and hopped out of the car. Peeling her panties out from underneath and holding them lightly out to her side between her thumb and forefinger, she shut the car door, and walked into the house.
         Their house was like everyone else’s in the Colony’s village, simple and cozy with 1x6 planks on the outside, a moss covered roof, and porch that wrapped around all four sides. Her husband and daughter were in the backyard behind the house his family built 800 years ago. They were tending their citrus trees while the soup on the stove simmered. This was her favorite coming home scene, and here they were. Beautiful people, beautiful family, taking care of her wonderful fruit.
         After loving them with her eyes for a moment, she tossed her panties on the bedroom floor, and immediately ran the shower. Not waiting for anyone to greet her, she was ready to wash the stray parts of the coffee shop off her body. Taking a hot shower was the last step to her re-entry ritual. She hated baths. The other women in the Colony never went anywhere and had to use their bathtubs and the baths like a drug. Quick hot showers were fine for her. ‘No need to waste all that time being with myself in the bathtub when I can the be with the real thing,’ she always justified.
         David, her husband, could hear the singing from kitchen. It was a song he’d heard her sing before,