Where Fires Are to Burn, page 19
“I don’t know”
The priest stopped in the light and turned to her. Behind him, a stone staircase led from the dark tunnels to the brightness of the daytime above. There were voices in the distance, a calm energy flowing through them.
“You do. You do know what you feel in your heart. That is why it is in your heart, and not in your head. When it is in your head it is clouded, there is too much for a person to think about for the thoughts to be pure of form. But in your heart you know the truths”
He pointed his finger against her chest.
“Do you know you will find him?”
She nodded.
“I know I will. I don’t know if he is here, in this city, or if he was here, but I know I will find him. If he had died I would be able to feel it”
Gerard nodded and smiled at her.
“Exactly”
The stone staircase spiralled into the blinding white light as though it were the ascension into the glow of heaven itself. The underground walkway continued onwards, past the staircase and rose in a gentle incline to some other place in the compound where horses could be led into the warren of tunnels and out to the river or to the hills.
Above ground, the high walls of the sandstone courtyard towered over them, the sun perfectly placed in the space above as though it were painted on a glass ceiling. Three grand oaks pushed themselves from the stone tiled floor and wound up to the light, their bows showing the signs of new life, budded with green. Birds sat atop them, whistling as though it were the tree of life. People passed all around them on the cloisters raising three stories high.
Kiara stood and stared.
“Beautiful, yes?” Gerard said, noticing her awe.
She nodded.
“Very. It’s amazing to see such life in a place where nothing else lives”
Gerard nodded.
“The curates take phenomenal care of these trees, and the gardens here”
Kiara’s brow furrowed.
“You’ve kept gardens?”
“Ah yes, there were once monastery gardens, sanctuaries for the friars of Santo Domingo. After the war, when the place was given back to the church, the gardens were turned into a biological conservation area. We have over two acres of some of the finest plants that grow in this country, used for foods and medicines too, you know? There were once nearly a thousand species of plant growing here, but we have sadly lost some of them to the weather”
He shook his head, a look more of frustration at allowing such an event than the sadness of its passing.
“Though, that said, we do hold one of the largest seed banks on the American continent, so, you know, when the time comes, we will rebuild this beautiful world in the glory it once enjoyed. Now, come with me, I will show you inside. Are you hungry?”
He began to walk.
“Yes, very. Thank you”
Gerard waved over a young man in civilian clothing, who skipped to him keenly and smiled at both Gerard and Kiara.
“Please, can you take the dog for me. He will be happy in the garden. Please show him where to find water. And don’t let him eat the plants though, no? Get him something”
The young man nodded and whistled to the dog and it did not hesitate in going with him, waving its tail around wildly and trotting away through a grand stone archway to the land beyond.
They walked across the courtyard and through an arched doorway into the ancient enclave. There was a bustle inside the place as men and women came and went about their business, some dressed in the traditional clothing of the church, others in plain clothing and some in military coveralls with automatic rifles.
Gerard waved her through the crowds and through the network of corridors within, past artwork that hung in ornate frames, paintings of the saints and the scenes of the gospel. He led her into a stonebuilt room, square and with vaulted ceilings so high that the ornate carvings that adorned them were out of clear sight. The masonry was worn, crumbling around the perimeter, and birds sat high on the arches.
Along the centre of the room were four oak tables, thirty feet long each and immovable by even a hundred men, set in their place forever by their weight alone. White ceramic plates and mugs and sparkling clean drinking glasses and glistening silver cutlery were all laid out on the back table, stacked high. The other three tables were empty but some dirty crockery that was yet to be cleared, but Kiara knew that come meal time those tables would be lined with the hungry workers of that place. The men who had spent their days digging by hand the tunnels that stretched beneath the city like fingers of a great hidden hand. The women who brought water by cart from the Atoyac to feed and maintain the plantlife and the glorious gardens and to keep the building in the state of cleanliness that it enjoyed. The men who lined the high stone walls of the temple perimeter, watching vigilantly through the scopes of rifles to protect what was vital to protect. Those men and women who made up the bands of preservationists who fought with knife and pistol through the streets to salvage the priceless fragments of history. Each man and each woman was given food and drink and simple board and protection for their part in supporting the greater cause.
The preservation of the nation. The preservation of the lord himself.
Gerard took a plate from the top of the stack and took a drinking glass and walked to the end of the tables and poked his head inside the arched doorway.
“Buenas tardes, Margerite” he called with a smile.
From inside a woman spoke back to him.
“Buenas tardes, padre”
“Tienes comida lista?”
The woman appeared in the doorway with a washcloth and batted Gerard with it, telling him to get out and that they were busy
He laughed and recoiled from the doorway, playfully.
From outside he called her again.
“Margarite”
She appeared in the doorway.
“Esto es Kiara”
She saw Kiara and smiled to her and nodded gently.
“Hola señora, bienvenida”
Kiara smiled and thanked her.
“Espere” she said, holding a finger up to them, and disappeared back into the kitchen. She reappeared a moment later and beckoned them forwards to the door.
“Here. We don’t have the fish cook yet, I like to make with the skin, er, crisp, you know. But here, is vegetable and rice for you, if is ok?”
“Of course, gracias Margarite. Dios te bendiga”
She took the two plates from them and approached where the pans were cooking on the fire and put a ladle of cooked vegetables onto each followed by a heap of brown rice.
“Is coffee here, and water, but water is from, er, this morning”
Her accent was eastern European, her Spanish and English both tainted heavily with intonation.
They thanked her again and took their plates to the long oak table and sat opposite each other.
Kiara had to restrain herself from devouring her plate of food as quickly as she could in such company. She took a fork and tried to eat politely, though her stomach bubbled with hunger and the mere smell of the food was overcoming her.
Gerard took her glass and returned a moment later with it full of clean drinking water.
Kiara did not know what to say. She ate the food as her head swirled.
“How have you done this?” she asked, finally.
Gerard looked up from his plate.
“Done what?” he asked.
“This. All of this” she said, passing her hand around the room, “you have cooked fish? Beautifully steamed brown rice, manicured gardens and seed banks and clean drinking water. The place is clean, the people are happy. You have created Eden”
Gerard laughed.
“We have what every person could have, nothing more. Life is simple, very simple. The rice is grown and harvested and the vegetables are our own. They are the same vegetables every day, the same rice. It is not glorious. The people are happy because the people are safe. We do simply what we must to survive. Surely we all do”
“But how can you possibly fund all of this?”
She finished the plate of food and placed her fork down gently.
“It is not funded. There is no money here, these people are not paid in material goods, there are no jewels or gold. Everyone here is safe, and the protection that we provide for each and every person is the justification they require to work towards our cause”
He motioned with his fork to the kitchen door.
“Margarite, she is not paid money for her work, nor does she want such a thing. Margarite came to us a couple of years ago like yourself, lost, looking for help. She too lost her family, three girls I believe. Now you see how happy she is? She cooks food here with some others, and in turn she gets to eat the food, sleep under this roof, be safe. You understand?”
Kiara nodded.
“I do”
She was impressed and her heart warmed again for the first time in many months. It made perfect sense to her, the rebuilding of a society as it once was. The people in that place could not offer anything more than the people of the country deserved and which they had always enjoyed, simple food, clean water and protection. Nothing more. And for those simple privileges there was nothing asked. Nothing but their allegiance to the greater good which was being realised and achieved in that place.
“Tell me, Kiara, you have religion in your life?”
Kiara nodded instinctively, though Gerard read her clearly.
“You doubt him?”
Kiara tried not to shrug, to seem definitive in her faith. She was sitting, after all, in the house of the lord and eating from his bounty.
Gerard nodded.
“It is ok to have reservation, to be uncertain as to what guides you”
“I am from a very strong Catholic upbringing, I just, you know…”
She tried to pick her words.
Gerard interrupted.
“You don’t see him too often these days, no?”
“I lost my daughter and both of my parents on the same day, at the hands of savages. There was no cause for it. Robbery, spite, evil. They could have easily been spared, life was ok. We left, my husband and son, we left after that. To leave Mexico to the south, find a place where we can restart again. Then Dylan was taken, pulled, physically, away from me and taken away for this awful government to use as fodder in this horrible, horrible place”
She was not going to allow herself to cry, though she knew no shame in it.
She looked at Gerard through glazed eyes, her fingers fiddling with the brim of the hat on the table next to her.
“I’m sorry”, Gerard said, holding a hand across the table and touching hers.
“And then my husband too”
Gerard nodded.
Kiara said no more of the details and she did not need to. Gerard understood what was to be understood.
After a moment of quiet he spoke again.
“There is sometimes very little here to be thankful for. Our faith is tested by the things we see. How can he create such a world, you ask?”
She nodded.
“Your faith will revive. You will see there is light for you yet”
She nodded again and sniffed and sat upright.
“I see now. Look at this place you have. Look at what people can achieve when they trust in the good”
Gerard smiled.
“Revelations, Kiara” he said, holding a finger up to her with a smile, “be faithful unto death and I will give you the crown of life”
She smiled.
Gerard took the plates from the table and walked them to the kitchen and thanked Margarite once more and came back to Kiara’s side.
“We do not ask for your faith. We do not judge your worth by your trust in any Abrahamic text. The judgement is not ours to make. Do right by yourself and by those around you, that is all we require for your being here. A good tree bringeth forth good fruit”
She smiled.
“Come, Kiara, I will show you to a place where you can rest, and clean, and then we will go about the mission to find your son”
Chapter Fourteen
“We have, like, four matches left in this box Ryan, you’ll have to light the rest of the candles from the ones already lit”
Ryan nodded.
The store at the corner was less than a mile, and he could walk it, but he’d much rather not if it could be avoided. Mia was asleep against her mother’s chest, limiting what Kiara could do to tame the relentless energy of Dylan, who was at that time head-first in the television cabinet, pulling out old video cassettes whilst looking for the toy aeroplane that was absolutely not in there.
“Come on, you” Ryan said, taking hold of the back of Dylan’s jeans at the waist and pulling him backwards, “out of there fella, you come help daddy”
Dylan wailed and swung his hand backwards at his father.
“Hey hey hey” Ryan said, sterner, “don’t start that with me”
The place was dimmed though it was the middle of the day, the sun barely showing light nor warmth through the veil of snow cloud. Candles were lined along the mantle and the top of the television and the windowsill, little spots of yellow warmth against the dull afternoon light. The lounge and the kitchen were the only places lit, the walls dancing with the flickering flame and throwing tiny shadows around the room.
Dylan came backwards out of the cabinet clutching the box of an old animated movie. He got to his feet and handed it to his father.
“Daddy” he said, a smile on his face.
Ryan bent down to him and held him at the waist.
“Sweetheart listen, there’s no power, so the tv doesn’t work, but when its back on we’ll watch all of these movies yeah? I promise”
Dylan just looked at him.
“I promise. Do you want to help daddy?” he said in a cheery tone, aiming to snap the boy’s attention away from the movie and on to something else.
“No” he said, chirpily.
Kiara smiled.
“Well, you kinda have to. Come on, leave mummy with Mia, while she’s asleep, yeah?”
At two, there was not much reasoning to be done with the boy. The way to achieve anything with him was largely bribery and distraction.
Ryan stood, and turned for the door, his hand trailing behind him waiting for Dylan’s to take hold of it.
“Come on, champ”
Dylan snapped out of it and trotted after him, though ignored his hand.
“I’ll take him out back and we can get some more wood for the fire while we’re there. You warm enough in here for a while?”
Kiara nodded and smiled.
She was wrapped in a blanket and big furry slippers, cuddled around her baby. The tin of cookies left from the Christmas party were firmly wedged onto the sofa next to her, the cushion in front of them to keep them from the prying eyes and wandering hands of the two year old.
“You want to put on your new boots that Santa brought you?” Ryan asked.
“No” Dylan replied again, and again Kiara laughed.
“Well, er, you need to. It’s snowing out there, isn’t it? You don’t want to get them feet cold do you?”
“No”
“OK champ, well let’s get your boots on”
Dylan cheered a little cheer to himself, and ran from the room into the darkened hallway where his boots and hat were waiting by the door.
“We won’t be too long out there. We’ve got a fridge full of stuff that needs eating before it spoils”
“Mmm, cold meat for dinner again”, Kiara said.
“Hopefully this won’t go on too much longer. Kathy over there said she saw the vans at the bottom of the hill working on the boxes down there, they said hopefully by morning”
Kiara cocked her head, untrusting of any timeframe given by local council workers.
“Well, we can hope. See you in a bit sweetie” Ryan said, moving through the doorway.
“Love you” Kiara called after him.
“You better” came the reply from the dark.
Kiara sat on the end of the steel bunk. Her boots were on the floor in front of her, torn and faded and the laces frayed. Ryan’s hat sat on top of the long red coat, laid out across the bed behind her, the pistol tucked underneath.
She held the letter to Dylan in her hand with the photographs, turning the soft paper around in her fingers.
Three sisters came past her and nodded and smiled to her gently, though their long blue tunics were dirtied and one blood-splattered and they wore black work boots which were worn and dusted with ash.
Despite what safety was offered by the temple and by those who lived and worked there, she felt overcome by the grief of loss. In the open country she had no time to reflect. Despite many long hours of walking, alone or with only the dog for company, she had little time to think. Such focus was given at all times to surveying the landscape for movement and keeping her wits about her in the ongoing quest to simply live another day. She had, of course, missed her family dearly, such was her drive onwards, but she had not grieved properly, certainly not for the loss of her husband. From that day she had awoken in the bed in the hunting cabin, she had filled herself with the desire to push on from one point in time to the next, and whilst tears had indeed been shed, she was yet to expel the full emotion she harboured inside.
She felt such sadness sitting there in that safety. A place where she did not have to listen to the sound of the winds for danger or to pick out the smell of distant camp smoke, or question where next she may find water. She had stopped, for that moment, looking over her shoulder. She put the photographs and the letter down on the bed and stood and stretched. She was exhausted and felt that she could sleep for a lifetime should it be afforded to her.
But it was not, despite there being no time-limit placed on her welcome there. Gerard had told her to make herself comfortable and had gone to great lengths to find her clean underwear and a hairbrush and a toothbrush, and showed her to a bunk in a room full of others where she could take her time to recuperate. He would, in time, expect her to work for such luxuries, but for that time she was a welcomed guest.
But that was not how Kiara viewed it.
