The Road Home by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 7

The death toll from what was supposed to be a classified military project wasn’t announced for several days. The list was lengthy and included the names of students, faculty, and a few people from the surrounding neighborhood. Some of the deceased faculty were well-known, while many of the students listed were mostly undergraduates and unknown to the six grad students. Some would say that ‘life goes on’. But those people had likely never faced a crisis of this magnitude where their lives had been threatened. The truth was that life would never be the same for the college or its students. Once the military cleaned up the last of what was left of the accident, the campus reopened. Almost immediately, students gathered in mourning holding pictures of the deceased and lit candles. Many tears were shed for both students and faculty as survivors recounted meaningful moments with their now-deceased friends.

With classes open again, returning students found it difficult to focus with the presence of empty seats haunting their minds. Everything that took place both in and out of the classroom only served as a reminder of those who had been lost, and the upcoming graduation ceremony promised to be no different. Although Maya and her roommates never knew those who had died in the accident, they also felt the dramatic change that seemed to poison the campus. As an emotional defense, they threw themselves into their studies, burying themselves in words and numbers, facts, and theories. Each chose isolated places on campus for study, allowing them to block out the presence of other people. It was not only a quiet way to work but also necessary for the maintenance of one’s sanity.

Healing was slow to arrive, but eventually, the routine of higher education resuscitated itself and life began to return to normal. Yet, there would always be that small seed of loss; a constant reminder of the tragedy that had battered the Jeffersonian lifestyle of education into a near-fatal repose. Midterms were generally a stressful time for all students—with exams and term papers leading the pace of hurried activity. But that time came and went, leaving campus life with a more modest energy level. The relief seemed almost palpable.

It was during the first weekend after midterms that the six roommates took the opportunity to relax and with the upcoming holiday weekend, they looked forward to a well-deserved break. Choosing not to stay in the city, they unanimously decided to go to Kachess Lake, where they would stay in a cabin perched near the water’s edge. As Tacoma is surrounded by mountains and lakes, the drive was no more than two hours long and once they arrived, everyone agreed that it was well worth the effort needed to get there. But before unpacking the cars, they stopped to walk the short to the lake. The air was cool and tinged with the sweet smell of autumn. The lake was still and glassy and the mountain slopes stood majestically as sentinels watching over the land with the eyes of God.

In spite of the lake’s icy water, the bravest of the group dipped their bare feet beneath its frigid surface. Their reward for such daring was a sudden wave of frozen shock that ran up their bodies, inducing a rapid gasp. Aurora was the first.

“Oh my God!” she said. “That’s fucking cold!” The others looked on as though there should be no surprise, shaking their heads in dismay. But as a cold wind rushed down the valley, Dave strongly suggested they unpack and settle into the cabin. No sooner than they did, a heavy bank of sullen clouds rolled down from the mountains, rendering the autumn setting an indiscernible gray. By the time a fire had been started, the ground began to tremble with the thunderous roll of an oncoming storm. One might think that the culminating forces of nature would set one's soul alight with fear, but the autumn tempest only added to the ambiance of communing with nature.

Once the group had settled in, they sat listening to the tumultuous roar that surrounded them and taking in the sounds of nature’s fury, everyone began to relax as though in a state of meditation. But the call of hunger soon overtook the voice of the angry hinterlands, as cookware and utensils appeared. In the middle of preparation, Aurora brought attention to one necessary item. “Uh, guys,” she began. “If we’re going to cook, don’t we need firewood?”

Everyone froze as they realized the one thing they needed was the one thing they didn’t have. Eli tried to administer reason with what turned out to be irrational.

“Well, there’s trees everywhere. Maybe we can just cut one down.”

The storm had diminished from an earsplitting cacophony to a gentle rumbling as it quickly tumbled through the valley. Soon after, it exhaled its last flash of lightning before giving way to a vindictive sun. All seemed right with the world, save for one thing—food. Now, it was Dave who stood as the voice of reason, offering what Eli should have seen as obvious.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Look outside, even if we could cut one of those down—which we can’t—everything is soaked. We can look around outside for wood, but it’s probably going to be soaked too.”

“Instead of arguing,” Maya began. “Why don’t we just go outside and look around the cabin? There’s got to be something.”

Everyone agreed and, filing out of the cabin, searched its perimeter. It didn’t take long before Jackson discovered a canvas tarp covering a generous stack of cut firewood.

“Hey!” he shouted. “Over here!”

Clamoring towards his voice, everyone raised a cry of celebration as they carried the firewood inside, knowing that they would not starve. The only other option was to drive to the nearest town. But an act of desperation such as this would be seen as counterproductive to being in the woods—away from the clatter of the world. An hour later, their stomachs were full, and their minds had begun to drift off into a food-induced lethargy.

It seemed like hours had passed by the time the group woke. Maya was the first and, getting up from the table; stretched and twisted her body into an upright position. When they arrived, the cabin was warm and well-lit by the diffuse light of day. Now, it was cold and dark. Calling out, she brought the group from their slumber. “Hey, everyone,” she said. “We need some lights, and it's frickin cold in here.”

They arose like Frankenstein’s monster and struggled to comprehend Maya’s words. Maya repeated herself, raising her voice to further rouse them into consciousness.

“Guys, come on, get up!”

Grumbles of complaint rose as they staggered to their feet. But the one thing that now stood in their way was their own feet, as the darkness that enveloped the cabin also obscured their path. As Maya searched for a light, she heard several thuds as a few of her roommates stumbled to the floor. The collision between skulls and floorboards generated multiple bruises and a flood of vulgar language. This only served to frustrate Maya further, but in their clumsiness, she decided that it was too much trouble to continue, and they would have to find their way through the darkness on their own.

The ‘good book’ says ‘Let there be light’ and through the chaos of darkness and uncoordinated feet, a single light bulb suddenly came to life. Maya found the string; that when pulled engaged the illumination of the cabin. Still holding the string, she gazed at her friends crawling around on the floor, trying to get their bearings. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment thinking that five graduate students didn’t seem to have the intellectual capacity to find a wall, using it to bring themselves to an upright position. “You guys are fucking pathetic,” she said. With weary eyes, they looked up at her, perhaps waiting for instructions.

“Would you just get the fuck up?” she continued. “You look like a bunch of monkeys trying to find a place to shit.”

Feeling the flush of embarrassment, they slowly rose to their feet and glancing around found places to sit.

“Not so fast,” Maya continued. “We need firewood. And there’s going to be a few things to do around here, and I’m not doing all the work, so get off your butts.”

Getting to their feet, the group began the search, trying to find something productive to do. Knowing there was more firewood just outside the door, Aurora stepped out and carried back all she could hold. Others turned to straightening and cleaning, bringing the cabin to a sparkling example of outdoor life. If it can be said that a calm environment creates a calm inner life, then between the glory of the mountains and the charm of their woodland living space, the group would be beyond relaxed. After weeks of hard work, they felt this was exactly what they needed.