Today I introduced a new character in the story I am writing. // The next morning, Evelyn heard singing. She became dimly aware that she was lying on a cot. Her head hurt. She held it with one weak hand and moaned. “Going to be sick again, dear?” she heard a voice ask. The voice conveyed compassion, gentility, and a joyful nature. Evelyn opened her eyes to see whose voice it was and saw a woman she did not know, middle-aged, with wide hips and a full bosom, reminding Evelyn of the Earth Mother, Gaea. The woman had medium-length black hair, a sharp, straight nose, and dark, penetrating, playful eyes. Evelyn coughed. “Here,” the woman said, moving a metal bucket closer to the edge of the bed next to Evelyn’s head. Evelyn shook her head no. “No? All right.” The woman continued doing work in what Evelyn saw to be a small wood cabin. “Where?” Evelyn managed to say. “I’m Solena,” the woman said, turning back to face Evelyn, “and I’m delighted to meet you. You are in my home, an honored guest. I haven’t had one for a while. When you feel up to it, you can tell me your name.” “How?” “Oh, you fell over right on the edge of my backyard. Luckily for you, I happened to look out my window at just the right moment. Well, the movement attracted my attention. I saw some movement, looked up, and saw you hit the ground. A painful moment for you, my dear.” “Yes,” Evelyn said. “Don’t feel you need to talk now. I’m going to make you a nice breakfast, easy on the stomach. Some light broth to start. Is chicken all right, or do you not eat meat?” Evelyn had forgot the luxury of picking and choosing what one ate had existed before the Nation’s desperation set in, so few insisted on practicing it while starving. “Is it all right?” the woman named Solena asked again, studying Evelyn’s face carefully for her response. Evelyn nodded. Solena went to prepare food, and Evelyn rolled over to her other side. She found herself looking up at a window, with grey, rainy sky beyond it. She knew the rain would be acidic. “It looks as if I found you just in time,” Solena called out. “That rain would have finished the job the air started, that’s for sure.” Evelyn closed her eyes, shuddering to think of that fate . . . and how it would affect Ryan. “Yes,” Evelyn whispered, though Solena could not hear her. Shortly after, the woman brought a bowl of chicken broth to Evelyn’s bedside and sat on a chair to feed her. “You’re still weak,” Solena said, administering spoonfuls slowly and gently, waiting for Evelyn to take her time with each one. Evelyn’s face looked grey and ill. “This will help you feel better.” The woman smiled, and Evelyn wondered where such a mentally untroubled person came from. How could it be possible, in America? Solena saw the questions in Evelyn’s face and said, “Oh, my father built an enclosed hydroponics bay and greenhouse. We have all the food we need, and we own our land. Property rights are the one thing they respected—and we refused to sell to the developers who tried to strongarm us. For what? So we could be slaves like everyone else? For some reason, our resistance made them lose interest—that and the fact that we own two thousand acres of this forest. This town stayed small thanks to us.” Evelyn watched the woman’s face and listened to her words. She felt tired. “Oh, look at me, going on while you want to sleep some more. That’s a good idea. But you got through half your breakfast, so that’s good. Now you sleep, and I’ll leave you alone. I’m used to being alone. I’ll forget you’re even here, so don’t worry about me.” Evelyn fell back to sleep.
Posted on: Fri, 02 Aug 2013 19:45:26 +0000
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