After the End

Chapter 3

Asher awoke as the first rays of light peered through the trees outside of the open doorway. Her night felt too brief, but she was on her feet before she had time to consider sleeping in. Her morning ritual was sacred. She poured herself a glass of water from the full pitcher someone had left on the table across from the bed and drank it all. She squared her shoulders to the sun, brought her hands together in front of her chest and began a fluid series of salutations to the sun. Her thoughts fell away and she focused only on the rhythm of her breath and the next movement.

By the end of her sequence, the sun had risen to just above the trees. Asher stood still, letting the light warm her face as her heart settled to its normal pace. She breathed in the cool morning air and the delicate scent of honeysuckles. A few doors down she heard a quite conversation and was reminded of all the people nearby. She pulled a fresh shirt and toothbrush from her bag. A small mirror hung from a nail on the wall of the storage unit. She ran her fingers through her shaggy, dark hair and attempted to tame a few strays into place. She opened her pack and removed all but one of the notebooks Ren had provided the day before, before slinging it over her shoulder and slipping on her boots.

She headed down the narrow hall, politely nodding at a couple having tea in the open doorway of their unit. Steam rose from their cups in the yellow morning light and Asher remembered a similar ritual in her home during the time before. Her parents sat together quietly sipping coffee while Asher, a young child at the time, colored quietly on the floor at their feet. Occasionally her mother would read a few lines of poetry for her father, and they would marvel at the creative use of a word or else debate how the poet had intended it to be read. Now there was no coffee to be found. Only tea.

The dormitories looked more like the home for a community in the morning light. There were several units with window boxes or hanging plants containing flowers. Brightly colored curtains covered the doorways. Asher could hear the quiet movement of others preparing to start the day as she walked past. The scent of a nearby rosemary bush caught her as she rounded the corner to the stairs. The units on the bottom floor were all empty and there was evidence of water damage along the concrete walls. Main was in a relatively calm climate but no area in the lowlands was immune to flooding anymore. It was easiest to camp at least a few feet off the ground.

Asher followed the road north. After she passed the Commons, she turned sharply into the woods. She walked along carefully, noting the native plants growing in among the trees. Most were not edible, but she spotted an unruly blackberry bush with green fruit starting to spring from the branches. She made a mental note to mention it to the couple she met last night. Perhaps they already knew.

She came to a large flat area in the center of a circle of mature trees. She cleared a patch of ground and settled herself onto the dirt, slipping off her pack and boots and setting them neatly beside her. Breathing deeply, she straightened her back and closed her eyes. Almost instantly she fell into the world of knowing. The leaves rustled around her as the wind blew gently but she did not move at the sound. Her breath was deep and even. She sat still and quiet for a time. Then she opened her eyes and her notebook and started to write.


ENTRY: 20/05/02063

Old growth forest near Main, approximately 6:30 am

What do we know of knowledge and the power that comes with it? A useful knowledge or collection of information is one of our most important resources as humans now. The old system of money is useless to us and a person with power is quickly undone without the knowledge of how best to use it in a world as harsh as this one. Who can attain knowledge and is it right for any one person to control or restrict the potential for another to attain a knowledge they wish to acquire? Isn’t this its own abuse of power? Who’s to say if a child cares to learn a skill on their own accord they should not be able to? Don’t we diminish the collective by not allowing each of us to reach the potential we desire?

It is true that some may only have a curiosity about a subject and not go on to master it, but can we say that the curiosity won’t spark mastery in another subject? If we, as elders, display a reverence for information and knowledge, won’t the people do so as well? How should disrespect of a communal source of knowledge be punished? Of the one or of the many? Certainly, there is a risk of a useful book or collection of writings to be lost by a careless mistake, but there is always potential for that knowledge to be rediscovered. It is an idea, not a thing that can ever be destroyed. Perhaps it would be discovered again, and the next time more accurate to the time that is now. 


After her writing was complete, Asher stood and walked quietly around the area, observing her surroundings. She took a few moments to examine a plant she was unfamiliar with. She plucked a few of its leaves, sandwiching them between the pages of her notebook. She estimated about two hours had passed. Her stomach growled. Sitting on a tree root, she brushed dirt and grass from the bottoms of her feet and tied her boots tightly before heading back toward the Commons.

The Commons was notably quieter in the morning. The wood stage was empty of the instruments and stools from the night before and only a few tables hosted diners. The unmistakable smell of pancakes and syrup overwhelmed her. She walked to the open kitchen door and leaned against the frame. A large, gray-haired woman stood at the griddle with her back to Asher. She held a spatula in one hand, the other rested on her hip while she kept a close eye on the batch of pancakes currently on the griddle.

“Any of those have my name on it?” Asher asked playfully.

The woman jumped slightly. A flash of annoyance crossed her face and Asher thought for a moment she might be swatted with the spatula, but then a large smile spread across the chef’s face.

“Asher!” She set down the spatula on the counter and stepped toward her.  “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a face as beautiful as yours! Of course, I’ve got something for you to eat. How hungry are you? We’ve got maple syrup, too. The boys went out and tapped the trees in the early spring. I’ve got enough to last the year! Let me look at you.” The woman wiped her hands on her apron before tucking a lock behind Asher’s ear. “Your hair’s shorter.” She returned her attention to the stove top. “I’ve got to get this batch flipped. Go find a table and I’ll bring ‘em to you.” She shooed Asher out of the kitchen.

“Thanks, Julia. Good to see you.” Asher smiled and took a seat just outside the kitchen. Almost immediately a stack of hot, golden pancakes appeared in front of her. “Say when.” Julia held a large pitcher over the plate and began to pour the amber syrup.

“That’s good. They smell amazing. Thank you.” Asher leaned over the plate and inhaled deeply.

“Sure, babe.” Julia reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a fork and knife and set them on the table. “I’ve got to get back to the kitchen. I’ll leave this with you in case you need more.” Julia winked at Asher as she set the heavy pitcher down. “Mugs are behind the bar and the water in the kettle there is hot. If you want some tea, you help yourself.” Asher thanked Julia again as she disappeared through the kitchen doorway. She ate slowly and silently, grateful for every bite that she had not had to prepare herself.

Asher carried her dishes back into the kitchen, washing and drying them and refusing Julia’s offers of more food, but eventually conceding to tea. As she was pouring, Sam and Walter entered the commons. Asher smiled at the sight of them. They were dressed for a day in the garden. Sam was wearing a pink shirt, vibrant against her dark skin. Her curly hair pulled back on top but left wild in the back. Walter wore a wide brimmed navy hat and a khaki vest covered in mud stains. Both were wearing heavy boots and high socks. Sam was laughing over her shoulder as Walter held the door for her.

“Good morning.” Asher said. Her voice sang out brightly.

“Good morning! Asher, right?” I had a couple mugs last night by the time you walked in.” Walter laughed at his indiscretion as a kind of apology. Asher nodded curtly. Sam pushed past him and reached out for Asher’s hand.

“Good morning, Asher! How’d you sleep?” Sam patted the back of Asher’s hand, scanning the restaurant for a table. “Would you like to have breakfast with us. The table with the good sunlight is open over there.”

“I’ve already eaten my weight in pancakes.” Asher rested her hand on her belly as though she could not eat another bite, but the truth was she would have loved to eat another stack and laze around in a pancake coma all morning. She needed to start her rounds in the community so Ren couldn’t use it as a reason to convince her to stay longer. “I’m having a cup of tea and then I’m off to check out the new project everyone was talking about last night.”

Many of the community members she had spoken with the night before had mentioned that they had started work on a long-awaited housing project. The plan was a multi-home structure built into the side of a nearby mountain. A southern facing cliff had been selected, and the native trees and wildlife had been closely observed to be sure they would not be harmed by the addition of the human abodes, and that the plants would not be a threat to their community. The project had been in the planning stages for the last few years but construction, or destruction in this case, was finally under way. 

“Oh great!” Walter said. “You can sit with us while you have your tea.” He hooked his arm around Asher’s shoulders and led her to a sun lit table in the back corner.

Sam was reviewing a few notes in a small pad of paper she pulled from the front pocket of her button down. She gave Asher a brief synopsis of the lesson she’s be teaching the younger ones today: using native plants to identify the best soil for the specific crops. Asher was impressed by Sam’s depth of knowledge on the subject, and understood why Walter had gushed about Sam’s gift for teaching the night before. It was clear Sam was of great value to the community at Main.

Again, Walter proudly credited Sam as the brains behind nearly every grow project underway in the community. Asher was fascinated by Walter’s plans to build a large-scale vertical garden to allow more experimenting with crops requiring dry soil. Sam had been frustrated by how the occasional flooding spoiled months of efforts in minutes. Asher liked Walter and Sam. They had an easy way with each other. They were gentle with each other. Asher noticed they would find small ways to touch each other while they talked. Walter adjusted the fold of Sam’s collar. Sam brushed the back of Walter’s hand as she reached across the table. Asher felt happy for them to have found each other. She imagined their breakfasts alone together were not much different from this one. She felt lucky to be included. Asher savored the last few sips of tea and stood to excuse herself just as Julia arrived with two dishes, one stacked high with pancakes, the other a small pile of scrambled eggs and a large helping of greens.

“It was really good seeing you both again.” Asher said.

“You too, Asher! Will you be around a while?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. A few days.” Asher answered. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure how long she planned to stay at Main before heading back home to her camp. It had been nice to be with people. She spent so much time reminding herself she liked being alone that she forgot she liked having company, too.

The smell of warm sunlight and dirt greeted her outside. She was reminded of something Sam had said about stronger smelling soil being more friendly to plants requiring a great deal of moisture. She took a moment and observed the plants around her. Main’s general plant life was similar to the plants around her camp, but here the green of their leaves seemed to have a deep blue undertone. She thought of these plants’ recent history with frequent flooding and how the species may have adapted to hold a greater amount of water within their leaves. As she studied the plants before her the blueness of their leaves intensified. She understood this to be a trick of the mind. Her thoughts had led her to blue and a rationality behind it, momentarily enhancing the wavelengths impact on her retina. Perhaps the insight about the adaptation of the lower elevation plants would be helpful in the future, perhaps not. She thanked the Source for the gift of blue and headed toward the Anthill.

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