Off The Beaten Path

The Beginning

The sun was strong, warm. She wiped the sweat gathering along her hairline as she bent to hang another shirt. The toddler she had strapped to her back was heavy and sweaty. Bernell's oldest son ran about the yard; his bare feet padding on the cobblestone, the soft hush of grass intermittent as his thick baby feet slapped it down. All the houses were packed together; growing up behind the walls was a tight squeeze. The cities were overcrowded from 100 years of safety and prosperity. She straightened, her back screaming, looking towards the inner walls.

"Some more prosperous than others." She murmured, tucking the falling strands of brunette hair back into her braid and lifting the coil to allow air to cool the back of her neck though the breeze was minimal within the Walls.

Her child ran to her skirt, tugging with ferocity. He was thin and small, as were most children these days, but strong. Genetics played a part in development, yes - however so did the lack of food. A child couldn't grow well within the walls anymore. Overpopulation had put a strain on resources. There was hardly any meat, little money, less sustenance, and even less room to stretch out as a child needed to grow properly. She ducked her head to her son, once again marveling at the little human her husband and she had created. His eyes were a myriad of colors; greens and blues and browns all swirling in an explosion of patterns and textures. His dark brown hair caught the light of the sun, casting sharp red highlights to dance copper in his locks.

His tan little belly wasn't rounded, as it should be, but rather hugged his form. It didn't help he was an incredibly active child. Always into something, taking things apart. His appetite was voracious, as it should be. There just wasn't enough to feed him and for that he looked to be a few years younger than he was.

"Food?" His little head cocked to the side.

"Okay Gabriel." She soothed, grabbing his dirty little hand and leading him into the shade near the house where their neighbors towered over them.

He toddled to the small tomato plant growing in the corner, yanking the whole plant out of the pot in an attempt to grab the fruit. Bernell sighed, rolling her eyes skyward in exasperation. The third time that day he'd ripped the plant out. At this rate they'd starve by Fall. Awkwardly she moved to her knees, cautious not to rouse the sleeping child on her back. She released the breath she had been holding in when the toddler didn't stir and scooped the plant and spilled dirt back into the pot, scolding her son gently.

"Gentle hands, Gabriel." She pat the soil down, cringing at the way it embedded beneath her nails thinking to her wet laundry. "Gentle."

With effort she stood again, sweat trickling down her back where her youngest was pressed against her. Her dress was drenched, it was a small torture not being able to air herself out as she drifted the few steps back to the laundry basket propped on the chair she'd brought outside. Momentarily she contemplated moving back into the house as she snapped a shirt to the line. Bernell shook her head, her braid jostling uncomfortably in the crook of her neck; the little hairs poking the sweaty skin. She knew it would be even more stuffy and oppressive inside with the blistering heat than it was outside, despite leaving all the windows and doors open. Shouting beyond the house caught her attention. Children fighting, again. As Gabriel busied himself with eating his tomato she moved past the partial fence as a group of older children ran by, nearly running into her as she stepped into the street. She looked up the road to see three young kids, two with dark hair and one blond. She smiled at the concern on their faces, the love. She hoped beyond hope her children would have a bond like that.

A cloud drifted lazily over the sun for a moment. Her gaze drifted to the wall; to the sky over the wall. Before Bernell had children, when she was a child herself, she'd climb on the roof and look over the wall. To the fields and trees beyond her reach and she would dream. It was odd to find a child who didn't imagine, even just once, what the world outside would be like. Her grandmother would chide her for such things.