Tales from the Wasteland | The No Leaf Clover

Chapter 19

What does it mean to be human? The wisest of men and the brightest of women have pondered this question for many years. We will continue to contemplate this question for many years to follow. The cycle of life is quite simple; we're born, we live, and we die. It's the basic structure for every story, and like every story, humans are drawn to that inevitable conclusion. We want to find out what happens to the hero or heroine, will the question they seek ever bubble to the surface? Will they become the person they were destined to be?

We don't know the answers to these questions, yet we continue to scavenge for any shred of answers: just one small morsel will suffice. For only so long, however, for with each grain of knowledge humans seek, they turn into an addict. This curiosity about our finite existence is eternal beauty and vile darkness swirled into one. A duality of being.

Rod thinks about this most evenings while in the Wasteland, watching the hypnotic blaze from the campfire. His mind drifts to these questions more when in civilized communities, a term he uses loosely. He spends the majority of his time in the last remaining cities just watching. Watching how people act and how they treat one another. The pendulum will swing far left or far right, never stopping at absolute harmony. Some will give a warm nod or a compassionate gesture, while others glare in scornful hate and malice.

The hunter longs for the comradery and human interaction like anyone else, but the prolonged time in larger communities often brings him craving for the sweet solace of the Wasteland. The land is at its most basic of instincts: to survive by any means necessary. The greed, narcissism, and utter control of power ooze throughout Midland and no doubt the Dark City. The whispers and scheming throughout the city keep Rod on edge at all times, his back arched and tightened like a panther waiting to strike the coiled snake. But in the Wasteland, there are no politics or scheming humans playing a chess game over limited resources and power. Just him and the open road, taking each obstacle head on as it comes.

The fifteen-minute walk to the jailhouse gives the hunter time to enjoy several cigarettes and soak in the architecture from the past civilization. He's able to sneak a peek at lush gardens tucked away between the thin alleyways. Another reminder that there is always beauty in the vilest of places, you just need to know where to look.

The jailhouse sits between two taller buildings. A small grassy park is no more than fifty yards away. The leaves from the trees have started to wilt and fall to the earth. The children have raked the brown and red foliage into piles. Their screams of delight erupt out as they crash into the leafy mounds. Two horses pulling a rusted truck stop next to the park. An older gentleman calls out to the children for a treat. The screeches bellow out of the children's lungs as they race to the corroded green vehicle.

Several women giggle at the children as they tend to the day's newest gossip. Each woman is dressed in more colorful outfits than the citizens Rod saw earlier, with two sitting on a wooden park bench. He observes two Blade Arms near the adjacent intersection watching every move the old merchant makes. Rod takes a final drag as the events in the park unfold. He flicks the butt out into the street and ascends the stairs to the jailhouse entrance.

He crosses into the lobby of the jailhouse and is greeted by a scruffy old man at the reception desk. The bushy-browed man shifts his spectacles across the bridge of his nose while reading through a frail sheet of paper. He takes several slow strokes along his white beard while losing himself to the words scribbled across the page.

He doesn't notice the olive-skinned hunter at first, too enthralled with what's in front of him. Rod knocks on the desk to snap the wrinkled receptionist's deep reading. The old man is jarred back to reality. He sighs and moves his eyes up to gaze upon the villain that awoke him from his mental adventure.