Ash

I awoke every day with the same word on my mind. Endure. There was no way around the venal living here. I sat up, my tarnished cot whining about the shift in weight. My apartment was minimalistic, not by design, but by necessity. I had no payment for amenities such as furniture or decorum.

The floors were tile, from a past time, when someone plausibly cared for the space. The individual tiles were chipped, stained, and deteriorating. I was given the apartment not too long ago. When I finished Eight-Year I was an adult, and my mother gave me this apartment to start my own life. The apartment as a whole was slightly off center, the furniture I did have was secured down with metal fasteners. The grey wallpaper only held fast in patches. The smell of mildew was strong. I went to the small wooden trunk that made a quality dresser and pulled the cards off the top. Two cards.

One had a hand painted tree on it with a mother and daughter smiling. I opened it and in neat calligraphy it told a tale. “Happy fourth Birthday Ash, I love you so much. You’re such a smart and strong girl and I can’t wait to see what becomes of you. Love, Mom.” I remember it confusing to me that my father hadn’t signed the card.

I picked up the second card, blank on the front. I opened it to read a much less practiced hand writing. “Ash, Happy sixteenth birthday. So glad you came into our lives. We’ll keep in touch. Love, Mom, Dad, Daryn, and Kylee.” I put that down as well and opened the trunk.

I grabbed a woven top with only one hole and a pair of khaki cargo pants that I’d had since I was twelve, they were a gift for finishing Eight-Year. I padded along the uneven floor to the musty bathroom. The tub had a grout problem, I’d meant for a while to fix. I pulled on the shower head and felt the water with my hand. It was lukewarm, which alone was a relief. I took off my outfit and stepped into the stream. I didn’t have the luxuries of shampoos or conditioners; I had a bar of soap that sufficed to play all of the roles of shower toiletries. I wrung out my long hair and tied it up so it wouldn’t drip on my floor. I changed quickly into the clothes I’d previously picked.

I sat back on the cot and put my boots on, the nicest article of clothing I had. Brown boots, steel toe, given to me by my supervisor at work. “In case there’s a problem, you’ll want to protect your feet.” He told me and when I asked why he told me if I couldn’t walk, I couldn’t run away.

I left through the small hallway and opened the fridge. The light had gone out again, the food smelled rotted. I grunted and punched at the door. The food has to stay cool. I dug around my cabinets until I found a box of the old food mash. The mash that didn’t need to be kept cool. It was banned since it started making people very ill. I sighed and grabbed the can. It popped open and I wrinkled my nose at the stench. The grey and red mash was drizzled with liquid. Reluctantly I grabbed a spoon from the drawer beside the fridge. I ate slowly, despising each tasteless bite.

I threw the half-empty can away and sat on the floor in front of the radio. This floor was carpet, rough carpet, but still carpet. The radio dial stuck as I tried to turn it; finally I reached the station coming in from our town hall. The daily morning information center.

“Good Morning, Venia” Said the pseudo-kind voice of Mahdi Opelscent, The co-anchor.
I always wondered whose idea it was to call this city Venia. The city already had a name. Boston.

“It is six o’clock on the nose and today is February the thirteenth twenty sixty-four. President Tanner has called a mandatory meeting for all available non-essential personnel tomorrow at one o’clock. Please inform all civilians. The meeting will be held at the town hall building. The Food Chain has been closed this week due to health concerns, and let’s not forget Thursday is Holiday, so prepare any desired festivities. Thank you for tuning in to our daily information broadcast, have a great day Venia!” I could almost picture her smiling and waving.

I shut off the radio and stood. I opened the door and locked it behind me, tucking the key in my front pocket. I was jogging down the stairs when someone said my name.

I turned around.

“Ash, dear, could you come here, please?”

The kindred elder face of Mrs. Mildridge smiled down at me. Her face held so much age, something you hardly saw anymore. Mrs. Fay Mildridge is from a time before the rapture. I remember asking her about it when she was moving in. she told me she couldn’t describe it. I jogged back up.

“Something wrong?” I leaned against the doorframe.

“Could I ask a favor?” Her voice quivered.

“Sure, anything.” I offered.

“I can’t make it through town so well anymore, do you think you could be a sweetie and tell me son I need food, could you ask him to bring me some mash? He lives on the corner building by the town hall, the blue door, sixth floor I think. Maybe the second door in.” Her hands shook by her sides.

“Sure, Mrs. Mildridge.”

“Thanks so much sweetie.” She smiled and walked back into her room.

I nodded and jogged back down two flights of stairs. I pushed open the door, which was never closed. The Eye, claimed to be our savior, needed access to all the buildings so they can evict dangerous personnel. The Eye was an organization, started by our President, to protect us. Their agents weren’t allowed to identify themselves, they were just like us. If they heard anything dangerous, or treasonous, they evicted us. President Tanner didn’t believe in execution, although that would be far more merciful than sending people to the no-mans-land that was outside the walls. No one has ever seen outside the walls, at least not anyone that has made it back. No one knows what’s out there. But we do know about the Scavengers.

The Scavengers are people, if they can be classified as that anymore. They are desperate. They don’t have any food out there. They don’t have anything. And they often try to seize our city. I’ve never seen a Scavenger, but my supervisor talks about them often. Says he saw one grab a man from the gate and tear him limb from limb before someone shot him down. Says their shadows of people. Says their evil.

The streets are cracked, dirt showing through them. The buildings are corroding. There was a law passed saying no one can live above seven stories for fear of a building collapse. The sidewalks are all but gone. The sky dim, always, we don’t have a sun. We have a foggy mist shrouding the city. The mist circles up above the town hall area. I walk slowly, keeping my head down. I look behind me and see an older man, sitting in the street. I turn around to see him. He’s staring up at the sky, I follow his eyes. There isn’t anything there, nothing that wasn’t there before. I furrow my brow, and keep walking. I pass a pack of kids playing with a ball. Throwing it back and forth. I smile, they’re happy. And that’s a rare emotion here.

I look up to the Tower. The Tower is where all the politics happen. The tallest tower in the city. Where business people do business things. Where I think the Eyes are headquartered. Where I think they keep the secrets. The top of the tower has a little blinking pyramid. I have yet to figure out what that is. I imagine it’s some form of radio tower, but the local radio tower is on
another building and it’s much smaller. But I don’t know why we would need a bigger radio tower.

I turn my attention back to the street. The left side of the roads torn up to reveal gravelly barren dirt. They used the asphalt to produce electricity. Or at least that’s what they told us. Down the dark alleys I know people live. The people who weren’t privileged enough to have a home.

I ignore that. Endure. I reach the city’s hub, and look for the apartment building with the blue door. I see one, chipped blue paint. I jog to it, again keeping my head down. I open the door. This building is pretty well put together. Generally the closer to town hall you are the higher the stature people are. No one lived in alleys up here. No one was starving up here, everyone had electricity and everyone felt safe. I started up the stairs, checking down the halls as I reached every new flight. They had lights in the hall ways, their building as a whole was level, and the cleanliness seemed impressive. The stairs were carpeted, and the carpet wasn’t even torn, anywhere.

I got off at the sixth floor and went to the second door. I took a breath and knocked. I surely didn’t look like I belonged here. I surely could get kicked out if Mrs.Mildridge’s son was upset.

“Who is it?” Answered a female voice.

I swallowed. “Oh, Sorry, My name is Ash; I was looking for Mrs. Mildridges son. I’ll move on.” I breathed and headed back to the stairs when I heard the door open.

I turned around; a woman was leaning out the door, a newborn in hand. She looked me up and down, almost with a worried face.

“I’m Hatley Mildridge, Vence’s Wife, He’ll be home in a few minutes, and you can come in and wait if you want.” She smiled rocking slowly back and forth.

“Are you sure, I don’t want to be bother.” I protested.

“No, It’s fine.” She lead me in.

Her apartment was the most lavish I’d ever stepped foot in. He carpet was a rich red and perfectly placed. Her furniture was polished and she had every piece I’d ever imagined. A couch, a coffee table, a table and chairs.

“Never seen a place like this?” She asked

“Not really, I’m sorry.” I stood awkwardly while she sat on the sofa, rocking the baby.

She patted the spot next to her and I agreeing sat down.

“How old are you Ash?”

“Sixteen.” I answered rubbing the necklace I wore with my fingers.

“What do you need with Vence, is his mother okay?”

“Yeah, she just needed to ask a favour. I guess she can’t get food so easy, so she wanted me to ask him if he could bring her by some food sometime.”

“Oh, okay, how do you know Fay?”

“She’s my neighbor.”

Suddenly Hatley’s face looked stricken. “You live that far south? Alone?”

I nodded.

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“No, it’s okay really.”

Hatley looked skeptical and returned giving care to the infant. “This is Ari, by the way. She’s only four weeks old.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” She smiled warmly. “Vence should really be home any minute, could I get you something to eat, and you look so small.” She pushed her short brown hair back behind her ear.
“Oh no, please, don’t worry about me.”

She nodded.

We sat in silence for a few minutes until the door started to open. The male voice was already saying something about the prices until he looked our way and interrupted his own sentence with an unsure “hello”.

“Vence, this is Ash, she’s a friend of your moms.” Hatley stood up smiling convincingly.

“Hi, Ash.” He said eyeing his wife curiously. “Is my mom okay?”

“She just wanted me to ask a favour of you.” I stood looking around for the time.

“What’s that?” He set down his bags.

“She said she’s having a hard time making it around town, and wanted to know if you would be so kind as to deliver her some food sometime later.”

Vence met eyes with his wife and daughter. “Okay, I will, thank you very much for stopping by.” He opened the door and directed me out.

“Vence, we should offer her some food, to take home.” Hatley said.

“I’m sure she’s fine. Thank you very much Ash.” He closed the door behind me.

I heard Hatley behind the door. “Vence, she looks sallow, we could have helped her.”

And Vence replied. “We could be exiled having someone like that in here.”

“You’re being dramatic”

“She could make everyone ill.” Vence replied.

I sighed and started back to the stairs. I jogged further north. All the way north. Past the guard, who nodded in my direction, and jogged a mile further to the wall. The gate. The gate was a small chain thing. With a chain tube leading out past the wall. Dozens of locks line the thing. My boss was leaning against the brick wall when he saw me jog up.

“Hey Ash.”

“Hey, Luke, any business today?”

“One treason. Man, about nineteen, one hour.”

“Slow day.” I replied.

He laughed and nodded. Luke was big, real big, and real tan. He has run the gate for years. He took me on as his assistant, kindly, when I needed a job. He has sparse hair and very white teeth. His muscles ripple throughout his body. He has a belt with dozens of keys. He’s in charge of getting people out of Venia, when they’re exiled. He opens all the doors and points then out the chain tube path. He never goes far enough as to see past the wall, although I ask him to often.

He says he could get evicted for that.

His job used to be a lot harder, when the gate wasn’t as reinforced, Scavengers used to come by nearly every day, clawing he says. And he always goes on about the one that nabbed his brother. Tore him to pieces, Luke says. Luke always tells me, jokingly, my job is to be the pretty last sight for the doomed people that leave here.

I pulled my hair down, and put the tie around my wrist. I leaned against the wall on the other side of the gate, besides the prod. The prod is what we sometimes have to use to get the people to leave. Luke gets them through the gates, but then they don’t leave, they just stay in the tube, because they’re scared. So he used this charged prod and sparks the tube. It has yet to not work.

The wall is about twenty feet tall, sturdy two brick wide border around our small city.

A border to keep the bad out.

No.

A border to keep the good in denial.