This section is from Maria's perspective.
The smell of earth filled my nostrils as I knelt in the garden, pulling weeds and turning over soil for new seeds. It had been a week since we came to this small town, and I was surprised at how content I felt. Sure, I missed my friends back home. I missed the familiarity of my favorite bookshop, the hustle and bustle of city life, and the bodega. But there was something to be said for the peace that settled over me like a warm blanket in this quiet place.
Life hadn't changed too drastically for me, even in our new surroundings. I still helped watch Mr. Allen's children, though Sofia had grown into her own as a caretaker, taking on many of those responsibilities herself. I'd also found myself lending a hand to Tsu and Ivan around the property – organizing the garden, processing food and meat, and doing other odd jobs.
My kids have been finding a grove as well. Sofia is better than Gabriela. My dear eldest daughter seems to be having trouble with her emotions and finding it hard to adjust to the absence of her friends. She was also "withdrawing" from technology. That might not be the worst side effect of this whole thing. But then again, my heart bled seeing her in pain.
Sofia, on the other hand, has found friends and purpose quickly. She walked up one morning after breakfast.
"Grannie needs help at the library today," Sofia announced, her eyes determined. "Can I go? I promise I'll be careful." She preempted my objections with a set jaw.
I hesitated, my protectiveness warring with the knowledge that she needed some independence. The small town was safer than the city, and I could watch her walk all the way there. I didn't have as much anxiety after she walked there a few times.
"Alright," I finally agreed, unable to resist her pleading expression. "But be back before lunch, alright?"
"Deal!" she exclaimed, rushing off to gather a group of other kids around her age to help. I watched as they walked down the dirt path toward the town, their laughter and chatter filling the air, growing faint with distance.
She's recruited a few of the ten- to twelve-year-olds to help take care of all the younger kids as the parents and older kids helped around the property. We have a good system and rhythm forming. Some of the residents have helped on the nearest farms already. We also started a community kitchen to make sure everyone was fed in Ivan's complex.
I also found a place in the community as well. Since discovering the church, I had begun visiting every morning, finding solace in the quiet, sacred space. The pastor never bothered or judged me, merely greeting me with a smile and a kind word.
"Good morning, Maria." The pastor's voice pulled me from my thoughts as I exited the church, his calm demeanor radiating warmth.
"Morning, Pastor," I replied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, holding my Bible and prayer book in my other hand.
"Thank you for your prayers. I believe they're making a difference in our community," he said, earnestness in his eyes. "Would you mind praying for the families struggling with food shortages?"
"Of course," I agreed readily. "I'll keep them in my thoughts."
"Thank you, Maria," he said before we parted ways, leaving me to reflect on the challenges for the families in the town.
Friday arrived, and the anticipation in the air was palpable. We all decided to attend the town meeting together, forming a large group composed of everyone living at Ivan's place. The children's laughter and chattering voices filled the air as we walked through the streets, casting off the weariness from a week's worth of labor.
As we approached the park, I noticed a sizable crowd gathered there. Tsu furrowed her brow, concern etched on her face, and approached a stranger nearby. "Excuse me, has the meeting been moved here?"
The man nodded. "Yeah, too many folks showed up for the town hall."
"Thanks," Tsu said, rejoining us. "Looks like we're here."
We wove our way through the people, finding a spot where we could all stand together. A woman with gray-streaked hair ascended the stage with Ivan, Mr. Allen, and a few more people standing on the edge of it. She announced how this would go before giving the floor to others who wished to voice their grievances. Complaints ranged from crime and power to food.
Then it was Ivan's turn. He stepped onto the stage, his hands trembling slightly, betraying his nervousness.
"Um, all the problems that you've brought up so far are things we've thought about," he began, his voice slowly gaining strength. "To help us work through this, we had the help of Oscar for legal support and Malcolm for the planning."
I stole a wary glance at the faces around me as Ivan nervously finished speaking. The townspeople appeared to be a mix of curiosity and uncertainty, their gazes shifting from one another to Ivan on stage. I could feel it in the air, the skepticism mingling with the distrust and hope for some semblance of order in our shattered world.
"Who's Malcom?" A voice behind me asked, barely above a whisper. "Anyone know who that is?"
"No, maybe he's one of the new comers?" Another voice chimed in, tinged with suspicion.
The chill of animosity seeped through me, making my stomach churn with unease. Were we really so unwelcome here? I shook my head, trying to push away the fear and doubt that threatened to consume me.
As if sensing my thoughts, Mr. Allen strode up to Ivan on stage, his posture tall and strong, an aura of confidence surrounding him. He spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear, his clear voice carrying across the crowd.
"Hello, I moved here with my family very recently and only know a few of you so far." His gaze swept across the sea of faces, pausing briefly to make eye contact with various individuals. "I'm going to present our ideas at the request of the town council. I am not taking over any powers. I'm doing this at the vote of the town council."
I watched Mr. Allen closely, admiring his courage and determination. He seemed unfazed by the murmurs and whispers that travelled through the crowd like ripples in water. I felt a surge of protectiveness towards him, towards all of us newcomers.
"Please," I whispered a prayer under my breath again, "let them see that we're here to help."
Despite the earlier murmurs, a sudden wave of angry whispers rippled through the crowd like a gust of wind disturbing a calm lake. I picked up on bits and pieces of their conversations: "Why is another outsider coming in and taking over positions in the town?" "Bet he's Irish." "We can make our own decisions; we don't need an outsider's influence or interference." "At least he's easy on the eyes, not like the ugly commie." Each malicious comment felt like a tiny dagger to my heart, aimed towards Mr. Allen.
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, as I fought the urge to shout back at them. Instead, I tried to focus on Mr. Allen, who seemed to be handling the situation with remarkable grace. I'm sure he heard the critics, but his face remained composed, betraying no hint of anger or frustration.
"The plan we came up with boils down to making sure the food gets going as quickly as possible," Mr. Allen continued, raising his voice slightly to drown out the whispered insults. "This will be done through a job program. The other part is to increase people's private gardens that they can have on their own."
Mr. Allen paused and looked around the crowd. Then he went on, detailing the next part of the plan: "The sanitation program, starting with the public bath that was completed by my good friend Derrick. We moved here together." I glanced over at Derrick, standing tall and strong just off the stage, watching the proceedings with keen interest, focused on the crowd. "Please," I whispered under my breath, "let them see that we're here to help." My heart raced as I scanned the faces of the townsfolk, searching for any sign of acceptance or understanding.
The murmurs within the crowd began to change. Glancing around, I noticed a few faces softening, even nodding in approval. "Oh, it's that big black guy," one person whispered to another. "He was surprisingly handy for a big guy," someone else chimed in, their tone lighter than before. "He's scary but not horrible."
My heart swelled as I heard these words. Were they finally starting to accept us? A few were even kind, specifically mentioning Derrick's handiwork on the public bath. "That bath was comfortable," one woman said, her eyes wide with sincerity. "It was the first shower I'd had in a few days."
Maybe, just maybe, we were making progress.
Mr. Allen seemed to sense the shift as well, and his smile grew more genuine. He paused for a moment, gathering himself before continuing. "I'm happy to hear positive reviews of our plans that we already implemented," he said, his voice still steady and confident. "I'm hoping you will be enthusiastic and benefited by our other proposals as well."
The air crackled with an ominous charge, no longer negative and aggressive but now more supportive and filled with anticipation. I looked around, catching quick glimpses of people's faces in the crowd - their expressions shifting between tentative hope and uncertainty. Mr. Allen's voice was steady, but I could see the strain in his posture, the tightness around his eyes as he forged ahead.
And then, without warning, everything shattered.
An explosion ripped through the air. I found myself screaming along with half the people in the crowd, looking around Sacred, trying to figure out which way to run for safety.
"Get down!" Derrick's voice boomed, barely audible over the cacophony. He was suddenly at Mr. Allen's side, gun in hand, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of danger.
"Wh-what just happened?" I stammered, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from my chest. The ground felt unsteady beneath me, and I struggled to maintain my balance amid the chaos.
Smoke billowed across the sky, casting a shadow over the town. The people slowed and froze trying to decide what needed to happen next.