Things Are Getting Better Again

Arnold plugged the adaptor into the wall socket.

“Try pressing one of the keys,” he said to his daughter.

Sienna was only seven years old, so was barely old enough to remember when everything came crashing down. She tried a key on the electric piano. No sound. Arnold looked at the wall socket and laughed as he realised his little oversight. He flicked the switch.

Sienna pressed a key and they both heard a gentle low note ring through the air. She smiled and tried the other keys, soon creating her own chaotic melody.

Arnold picked up a book of beginner songs. It was a long time since he had played of course and he’d never even got that good. Always in the first few songs of these books was a simple version of Beethoven’s Ode to Joy. Even with a new player’s timing, the ear could make out a tune like this one. The notes on the page meant nothing to Sienna but Arnold showed her which keys. After a few minutes she was getting the hang of it. The experience felt like magic to her.

“Let’s do another one!”

Charlotte arrived home from the market to the scene of her husband introducing their daughter to music and it warmed her heart for a moment. She set down her empty bags.

There were a number of communities that were gradually rebuilding into societies like what they were before the end of the war. Big infrastructure and factories weren’t there yet. Electricity like what Arnold and his family had recently set up at home was through solar panels and batteries salvaged from abandoned houses. But Arnold figured the big stuff would be up and running within another couple of years. The technology existed, it just needed rebuilding. Some factories and big power plants had been totally flattened, but other smaller ones just needed fixing. Across the local communities, there was the expertise for it as well. Old archives from the internet were there to fill in gaps in people’s knowledge. The coordination around all this reconstruction was starting to happen. Arnold suspected that perhaps in five years or so, the world wide web, global trade and even global travel would be back in action. The world would start to look like its old self, hopefully without the nukes this time.

Arnold left Sienna to play around with the keys while he talked to Charlotte about the market.

“They had spare parts, bikes. We don’t need any of that. We need food, Arnold.”

“There was none at all?”

“I asked everyone.” Charlotte’s eyes were red from exhaustion. “I begged.”

The three of them were getting skinnier by the day.

For a long time, canned food kept people fed. Eventually, that had to be rationed more and more carefully. The Year of Darkness had ruined the soil and it was near impossible to grow crops. They would grow somewhere, since every so often, vegetables would arrive and people would trade whatever they could. But even as society was reconnecting again, that seemed to be less frequent. Perhaps there were groups out there that had managed to route the new supplies their way. Nearby, a lovely old lady had succeeded in making her soil fertile enough. She would share some of the harvest with the neighbourhood. But soon a raiding gang got news of this and killed her and took over her home. There were several of them that based themselves there now. They were well armed and connected with a network of others so there was nothing the locals could do.

“What about seeds? Now we have electricity going good we could try set up a hydroponic thing.”

“I would’ve got seeds if there were any. Oh, I think they’d be even harder to get hold of.”

Charlotte was breathing heavily. Arnold took her hand. She started to cry.

“Hey.” He gave her a hug. “It’s okay. I can feel that, very soon, everything is about to get a lot better. I’ll go out of town and see what I can find.”

Arnold was out on his bike on the main road out of town. Sometimes you would come across travellers who were willing to trade. He had his backpack, some old cash and his gun. Up in the distance was a small truck pulled over to the side of the road. Fuel had been near impossible to find after the first couple of years, but lately, there seemed to be more vehicles on the road. Some electric, but others diesel so it was coming in again from somewhere.

As he got closer, he saw two men talking to the driver of the truck, who had got out and had his hands up. Arnold could immediately tell that the two men were from one of the gangs. It was as much the way they held themselves, and strutted around, as it was the ragged, military-style clothes they wore. He made sure his gun was ready. It was a small handgun in his pocket. He rode closer. One of the gangsters was sorting through the trailer of the truck. Hidden below some timber was a load of carrots, potatoes and other food. While keeping an eye on the driver, they watched as Arnold approached.

“You just carry on past and we’ll leave you alone for today.”

The one inspecting the trailer pointed his gun at Arnold.

“Okay. Not a problem guys.”

Arnold slowly rode past. The gangsters carried on with what they were doing. The one interrogating the driver was telling him he’d let him live if he would share where the food came from. The driver was refusing. The gangster started to count down. Arnold hopped off his bike. He turned around and he shot the gangster dead before he could finish counting. The driver scrambled into his truck. The other gangster crouched down behind the back of the trailer. Arnold quickly moved to duck down by the front. They both sat in their positions for a good two minutes. Testing each other’s patience as well as their own. Finally, the gangster let his confidence get the better of him and decided to run to the side, hoping to get a clear shot of Arnold. The gangster fired but it was way off. Arnold had never actually handled a gun before his military training. That was simply a six-week exercise after being selected for the draft. But he had always been good with his aim in other activities and this quickly transferred to his skill with guns. The nukes had dropped before he ever got deployed.

With the gangster exposed, Arnold took him down with two shots that both hit. He went to the door of the driver, who was about ready to speed off.

“Thanks.” The driver said, preoccupied with the idea of getting out of there. “Thank you.”

“Hey. No problem. As payment, you could share some of the food, yeah?”

The driver realised he’d need to cover the food or he’d only get another situation again further along on his drive. As he got out, he seemed annoyed by Arnold’s request.

“Is this what you do? Follow the thieves, kill them and then, like, extort the victims?”

“What? Excuse me, mate. No. Come on. I saved your life.”

The driver covered the food and didn’t seem willing to offer anything at all.

“Well, can I buy some then?”

The driver paused.

“What have you got?”

Arnold pulled the cash out of his backpack. There were mostly British pounds, some notes were Euros or American dollars. It hardly mattered any more.

“Two hundred cash. Please I have a wife and daughter and we’re starving.”

The driver uncovered some of the food again.

“A carrot each. If you want to trade your gun, I’ll give you a whole box of potatoes.”

Arnold sighed and held out the cash, putting his gun in his pocket. The driver handed him the three carrots. They would give them sustenance for another day or two. The driver was walking to his front door. With the driver’s back to him, Arnold still had his hand on his gun.

“I’m sorry.”

At those words, the driver froze in horror. With a shot to his back, he fell to the ground. While spluttering blood, he managed to roll over. Arnold took a close look at the wound.

“It’s gone right through one of your lungs. It’s going to fill with blood and be an excruciating death. I’m going to put you out of your misery, alright?”

The driver weakly held a hand up. With the other, he reached into his jacket pocket, on the side where he hadn’t been shot, and pulled out a picture. It was of the driver and his wife and two boys, smiling, looking like it must have been taken before war ended. Arnold nodded his head.

“If I ever meet them, I’ll take good care of them.”

The driver nodded. He took a final look at the picture himself before his arms fell to his side. Arnold fired a bullet into his head.

It was important to drive slowly and avoid making noise as he approached his house. Were there anyone close, he would’ve driven around for a while before coming back as he didn’t want to draw extra attention to the home. This afternoon, the street was empty. He pulled up in the driveway of the abandoned house next door. From there he could more privately carry the food round the back and through his back door.

When he got inside, he could hear another tune being played on the piano. Another tune that was often found in those learn-to-play books. One that was nice and simple but recognisable when a beginner plays it. Charlotte was at the keys.

“Do we sing the words above the notes, mummy?”

“You can if you want.”

“I want to be in that number! When the saints go mar-ching in!”

They stopped as they heard Arnold come in and saw him carrying a box of food.

“There’s a few more. I’ll go bring them all in now.”

Charlotte got up to take a look. She wondered where these came from.

“Some other people must have got into trouble with each other and this was left behind.” Arnold told her.

As Charlotte went to give him a kiss, she could smell the burnt gunpowder from the weapon in his pocket.

“A lucky find,” she said with a wavering smile. “We can’t leave it to waste.”