The Wakeful Wanderer's Guide to Disillusionment

The Ice House

The first targets of populist rage were the top ten wealthiest people in each country. The masses had labeled the wealthiest people in society 'Defilers' and blamed them for promoting the rise in atmospheric carbon which resulted in so much loss of land and life. Defilers were easy to identify, as their names had been published annually lauding their accomplishments. Then the extended families were also labeled 'Defiler' and likewise targeted.

– The Wakeful Wanderer's Guide, Vol. 6, edited excerpt from line 463

The pond had frozen just enough for an ice harvest. Everyone on the farm was celebrating in their own low-key way. Smiles were abundant and the work, as always, was vigorous and long.

Emily had been waiting for over a month for Marto to arrive. After her long swim in the Delaware Bay, away from the smoking ruins of New Atlantic, she had taken the mare named Honey across the length of the Jersey to the farmlands past Pittsburgh. She had taken her time, enjoying the union between her and the mare. Her long toil under the Yonivers was finally over. She took her time along slow paths to listen to the rhythm of Honey's hoofbeats and remember herself.

She returned to Schroeders' home after a week and a half of slow riding. Years ago, this family had saved hers from starvation and despair as she, her husband Ignatius, and her son Matthew made their way across the country toward Boston. The couple who had taken them in had passed away from disease since her previous stay. Their son Matthias was running the farm now. Luckily he remembered her kindly, and welcomed her into his home.

Each morning since her arrival, she stared into the Northeast, looking for any sign of Matthew. She imagined a young man on a unicycle or bicycle pedaling along the old decaying roads. Each evening she waited for him to step up to the old porch, the wood creaking under his weight. She went to sleep disheartened and disappointed, only to wake and search the horizon again.

She had assurances that Estelle, going by the name Helen, delivered her message to Reyleena. Word was sent back to her that the girl had gone off in search of Marto, who was away on his unicycle. Did something happen to her? Did she give up and go home? If she failed, Reyleena was supposed to give the message to Marto directly when he returned. That would be dangerous. It was better if he was away from Reverside when he learned the horrid truth about his heritage. Emily had been trying to reach Reyleena since her rescue from the waters off of New Atlantic and after the connection returned, but she received no response.

They cut the ice in the pond into blocks and carted them back to the icehouse. It was more of a cave than a house. Each block was packed in sawdust where it would keep far into the hot summer. The previous winter saw no ice at all. The Schroeders with whom she was staying were very happy at their good fortune, and she hated to be so glum in their presence. She did her best to be cheerful at supper and apply herself merrily to her work. Even so, she was not able to hide her disappointment from Rachel and Matthias. Luckily, their sons and daughters were less perceptive.

"I'm sure he will come in due time," Rachel told her one night by the fire. "It really hasn't been that long. He will come."

"I hope so," Emily said. "I feel as if something has gone terribly wrong."

"I can send Noah around to the other villages to ask after him," Rachel offered. "Your son may have been spotted somewhere in one of the towns. Others will know more than we do."

"No, please," Emily countered. "We don't know how long this cold will remain. You need all hands to bring the ice in."

"Perhaps when we're done. I'm sure Noah would be happy to visit some folks nearby. You have a tear here." She touched Emily's blouse, her bare shoulder showing through a rip in the fabric. "Sarah could mend that for you. Leave it outside your room tonight. I'll make sure to tell her."