Wastelands: Stories of the Apocalipse

"Come on, if he was comin he would’ve come, right?"

"Might still," she said.

"Nobody believes that," said Deaver. "Mormons are just the government, that’s all. The Bishop gets elected judge in every town, right? The president of the elders is always mayor, it’s just the government, just politics, nobody believes it now. Zarahemla’s the capital, not the holy city."

He couldn’t see her because he was lying flat on his back on the couch. When she didn’t answer, he got up and looked for her. She was over by the sink, leaning on the counter. He snuck up behind her to tickle her, but something in her posture changed his mind. When he got close, he saw tears down her cheeks. It was crazy. All these people from the old days got crazy a lot.

"I was just teasin," he said.

She nodded.

"It’s just part of the old days. You know how I am about that. Maybe if I remembered, it’d be different. Sometimes I wish I remembered." But it was a lie. He never wished he remembered. He didn’t like remembering. Most stuff he couldn’t remember even if he wanted to. The earliest thing he could bring to mind was riding on the back of a horse, behind some man who sweated a lot, just riding and riding and riding. And then it was all recent stuff, going to school, getting passed around in people’s homes, finally getting busy one year and finishing school and getting a job. He didn’t get misty-eyed thinking about any of it, any of those places. Just passing through, that’s all he was ever doing, never belonged anywhere until maybe now. He belonged here. "I’m sorry," he said.

"It’s fine," she said.

"You still gonna take me there?"

"I said I would, didn’t I?"

She sounded just annoyed enough that he knew it was OK to tease her again. "You don’t think they’ll have the Second Coming while we’re there, do you? If you think so, I’ll wear my tie."

She smiled, then turned to face him and pushed him away. "Deaver, go to bed."

"I’m gettin up at four-thirty, Rain, and then you’re one girl who’s gonna have fan."

"I don’t think the song was about early morning boat trips." She was doing the dishes when he left for his little room.

Lehi was waiting at five-thirty, right on schedule. "I can’t believe it," he said. "I thought you’d be late."

"Good thing you were ready on time," said Deaver, "cause if you didn’t come with us you wouldn’t get a cut."

"We aren’t going to find any gold, Deaver Teague."

"Then why’re you comin with me? Don’t give me that stuff, Lehi, you know the future’s with Deaver Teague, and you don’t want to be left behind. Where’s the diving stuff?"

"I didn’t bring it home, Deaver. You don’t think my mom’d ask questions then?"

"She’s always askin questions," said Deaver. "It’s her job," said Rain.

"I don’t want anybody askin about everything I do," said Deaver.

"Nobody has to ask," said Rain. "You always tell us whether we want to hear or not."

"If you don’t want to hear, you don’t have to," said Deaver. "Don’t get touchy," said Rain.

"You guys are both gettin wet-headed on me, all of a sudden. Does the temple make you crazy, is that how it works?"

"I don’t mind my mom askin me stuff. It’s OK."

The ferries ran from Point to Bingham day and night, so they had to go north a ways before cutting west to Oquirrh Island. The smelter and the foundries put orange-bellied smoke clouds into the night sky, and the coal barges were getting offloaded just like in daytime. The coal-dust cloud that was so grimy and black in the day looked like white fog under the floodlights.

"My dad died right there, about this time of day," said Lehi.

"He loaded coal?"

"Yeah. He used to be a car salesmen. His job kind of disappeared on him."

"You weren’t there, were you?"

"I heard the crash. I was asleep, but it woke me up. And then a lot of shouting and running. We lived on the island back then, always heard stuff from the harbor. He got buried under a ton of coal that fell from fifty feet up."

Deaver didn’t know what to say about that.

"You never talk about your folks," said Lehi. "I always remember my dad, but you never talk about your folks." Deaver shrugged.

"He doesn’t remember em," Rain said quietly. "They found him out on the plains somewhere. The mobbers got his family, however many there was, he must’ve hid or something, that’s all they can figure."

"Well what was it?" asked Lehi. "Did you hide?"

Deaver didn’t feel comfortable talking about it, since he didn’t remember anything except what people told him. He knew that other people remembered their childhood, and he didn’t like how they always acted so surprised that he didn’t. But Lehi was asking, and Deaver knew that you don’t keep stuff back from friends. "I guess I did. Or maybe I looked too dumb to kill or somethin." He laughed. "I must’ve been a real dumb little kid, I didn’t even remember my own name. They figure I was five or six years old, most kids know their names, but not me. So the two guys that found me, their names were Teague and Deaver."

"You gotta remember somethin."