A Different Alchemy (21 page)

“Of course. I think about it all the time. But not even I’m stubborn enough to think I can make it south in a kayak. That would be suicide.” He shoveled another bite of pancakes into his mouth.

“Does Halifax have a nice library?” Jeffrey asked.

Again, Art chuckled. “Always with the odd questions. Yes, it has a very nice library.”

They didn’t say anything else until both plates were clear of food. When Jeffrey did speak, he said, “If you’d like my tank, you can take it to go down to Florida.”

“I don’t know the first thing about driving a tank.”

“Believe it or not, neither did I until I took this one.”

“You don’t need it?”

“I think I’m done with it. I’ve gone as far as I can go.”

The man looked out the window and smiled. “A random guy shows up here after everyone else has been gone for years, then offers me a tank. This is an amazing world.”

He accepted the offer right away. The only thing left was to learn how to maneuver the tank so it got him where he wanted to go. And for the first time since coming into possession of the tank, Jeffrey had somebody in the cockpit with him. He went over what each lever did, explained what the tank could do and what it couldn’t do, then gave a list of bridges he knew of that had collapsed. And when the explanations were over, Jeffrey climbed back out, handed Art’s bags down to him, and watched the hatch shut.

From within the tank he heard Art’s voice. “I still can’t believe this is happening. Thank you so much.”

And then the tank’s engine came to life. A moment later the machine started in the direction Jeffrey had originally come from. The tank could still be heard after it had disappeared from sight. When the noise faded away, Jeffrey walked down to the water.

The cold Canadian water signaled the approach of yet another winter. As he watched the tiny waves lap against the rocks, he got the feeling that he needed to call home. Not to his parents, but what had been
his
home. The phone rang and rang. He expected it to either keep ringing forever, or for an operator’s recorded voice to tell him the number was no longer in service, but eventually Katherine’s old message came on and said that neither she, nor Jeffrey, nor Galen could come to the phone, and to please leave a message.

Beep.

“Hi, it’s me. I don’t know if you’re still there or not. I guess it doesn’t really matter one way or the other. I just wanted to say that I forgive you. I’ll never agree with what you did, but I forgive you. That’s all.”

That night, as he sat on a wooden bench, watching the sun go down behind the trees, the ocean side already dark, he found himself thinking about how incredible it was to be near the water in that moment, to see the immensity of the ocean rubbing against the stones, listening to the water’s constant, soothing noises. And he thought about how nice it had been to be able to share similar mo
ments with Galen years earlier.

Instead of wishing his son was s
till with him right then, however, he remembered those past memories with fondness as he thought about the new memories he had yet to make. His boy had moved on. He would move on one day as well. All things would. That was part of the lesson the Great De-evolution was trying to teach.

With the final moments of light left in the evening, the sight of water faded to only its sounds. And then those too ebbed away, and there was only silence. And he added that moment to the set of new memories he started to build, being thankful for what he had instead of missing that which he didn’t.

A day would come, maybe not for another decade, maybe not for three, when he would take his final breaths. And maybe he would see his son again then. Maybe he wouldn’t. And a day would come when the very last man or woman would take their last breath too, and the world would return to a simpler time. Some things were certain and some things could never be known.

But as the sun set over the hill, as the sky became black and the waves vanished from sight, he didn’t concern himself with any of that. He would wake up the next da
y and the waves would be there.

That would be enough.

I am once again indebted to many people for their support: Jodie McFadden, for her constant encouragement and optimism; Mack Meijers, for championing an unknown novel that he read and liked, and for the massive amount of helpful advice he provides; Win Golden, for believing in my stories and my writing; Derek Prior, for a wonderful edit of the manuscript; and everyone at Authors On The Air, GoodReads, and in the BJJ and MMA communities who read my first novel and recommended it to their friends. Without their support, I would be no where.

For updates on future novels or for more information about the author, pleas
e go to www.watchtheworldend.com.