After the War--The Journals

In which our safe haven is assaulted: we emerge victorious

Day 43 May 8

6am

It has been a whole week since I touched my journal. Events, emotions, stuff in general that, would have had me reaching for my journal in the past, have just been too disarrayed for me to calm down enough to write. I’ve been expressing and feeling just way too much raw emotion for me to even begin to make sense of anything. It appears that Dal and Skye’s going to the castle was not a good idea! What an understatement! It turns out it was almost our end.

Three days after they got back, Timmy came running into the cabin screaming. The child barely talks, and he was screaming!!!! Everyone came running and when Skye got him calmed down enough to talk, he told us he’d been playing in his ‘fort.’

His fort is in an old maple tree. From it, he has a good view of the road both up and down the mountain. He’d seen a large group of men coming up the mountain road.

Dal was out like a shot and up the tree and then back in the house in a matter of minutes. It was all the men from the castle plus a few others. They seemed to have weapons.

It did not seem like this was going to be any sort of a neighborly call. Even though the kids hadn’t given them any concrete information as to where we were staying, they’d figured it out.

Dal figured we had about 15 minutes to figure out how to handle this.

6:30

I know I should be trying to write this from the historical viewpoint. I should be, oh what is the word I’m looking for? Documenting….that’s it! I should be documenting the events of the past few days for posterity or something. At any rate I should be, but that isn’t what I want, need to write about!

I need to write about me and Duncan. I want to write about us. Thank God we are still an ‘us.’ I almost lost him. After the kids got back and before the invasion, Duncan came to me and said we should talk. Well, he did most of the talking and I just sat there smiling and crying. Turns out all the feelings I’d been feeling, he’d been feeling too! He’s that dream guy I’d been dreaming about since I was a little kid. Sure, the armor’s a little dented and rusty, but I don’t care!

He loves me!!!

For just a few days, I want to be a happy woman in love and have everything be goodness and light! I want to be able to enjoy all these new found feelings and emotions for what they are and how they make me feel. I want to be selfish and steal him away and go to Woodstock and stay in one of those lovely bed and breakfasts with canopied beds and fireplaces and …..Nice daydream, I guess.

Reality had us both bloodied and fighting for our lives. Never thought, never let myself think too much about what Dal and Skye had been through. Now I know. Never thought, never let myself think I could ever kill someone. I don’t think I’d ever experienced pure, raw, unadulterated rage before. Now I have. It scares me.

Scares me far more than I was scared when the castle crew came up to the cabin and started yelling at us to come out and surrender! Course, I got mad at that. No way.

Dal was in the maple tree, James was just over the crown of the roof (since they didn’t know he was with us), Lilac and Timmy were in the basement hiding and Duncan, Skye and I were inside. Duncan yelled back wanting to know what they wanted.

We all had (well, except for Lilac—all she had was a kitchen knife--) a weapon of some sort. But so, it seemed, did they. They outnumbered us at least two to one. There was no talk of sharing what we had; they simply intended to take it. We’d decided that if Dal or James heard Duncan yell the word Alamo (corny, maybe, but it seemed to fit), that they’d open fire. Hidden so to speak, they’d be able to take out at least a few of them.

John yelled that we would give them what they wanted or they had no choice but to take us out, and then bam!! A shot splinted the front door as the glass in the living room window burst as rocks bounced off the floor.

As agreed, we opened the door. Skye took out two of them with her sword as they came through the door. Not hearing a shot from inside, and seeing the door shut, the ones outside held off. We had John and Doc, down and bleeding on the floor. Holding her sword against Doc’s throat, she told them if they would just leave she’d let them live.

John said something, I have no clue what, and Skye looked over to Duncan. In that moment, John grabbed me and Skye killed Doc and Duncan screamed Alamo and all hell broke out! I heard shots being fired and saw Duncan go down. I had Skye’s dagger and somehow managed to ram it into John. The door flew open and men poured in. I saw both James and Dal. I tried to get over to Dunc and then someone grabbed me and I didn’t even think! I turned and Skye’s dagger went deep into Cindy’s chest! She looked…surprised I think, and then dropped. Beyond her, someone I didn’t know came at me and I swung the dagger and I guess they went down too! I wanted to get to Duncan. I looked over when he’d been, but he wasn’t there. He was over by the kitchen and firing the rifle. I heard Skye scream and heard Rob bellow and then something hit me from behind and that’s all I remember.

Later when the (bad pun) smoke had cleared….we were all okay basically ok. Duncan was hit in the side, but it went clear through and just bled a lot! Thank god the kids brought back stuff from the pharmacy like antibiotics! Lilac is a fine seamstress and we all are okay.

But when I remember seeing Duncan go down, my head hurts. I get or got, I guess, so mad…no, way beyond mad. Enraged? I killed Cindy and John and feel nothing. No guilt. Nothing. It scares me that I don’t. Rob says to let it go. He took out someone who hit Skye in the stomach. Says that living and life are more important. We need to survive. They attacked us, we defended. New world. New world order. Sad.
We were worried that Skye might lose the baby, but it seems they are ok too! Alls well that ends well according to Lilac…but I don’t know. I simply just don’t know.



2pm

Mom didn’t even remember it is Mother’s Day. Sometimes I hate this new world of ours. We need to keep the good stuff. She was so totally awesome the other day. Actually, Mom always has been kinda cool. For a mom.

9pm

Rage. Is it a healthy emotion? A dangerous one? Necessary? James writing. The past few days, the past few months have changed me. I do not know who I am anymore. Mild mannered professor of English? No longer.

I do know I have found a good group of people for my new family. We are that. I am now a part of it. Bloodshed does that I suppose. Gives new light to the old tales I have taught all my adult life. I see them all in a different way now. Killing, murder, war.

Always, have I seen them from the safe distance of the reader. I experienced the disdain common to the third party. The reader, the watcher of the evening news. Safely removed from the emotions and influenced by the mores of our society.

None of which exists at this point in time as an all encompassing factor. There is a society of groups in effect and it seems to me that each mini microcosm has its own values without the overlying rules of order, so to speak, that have existed in the past. Our society, here in the cabin, is trying to exist by the old rules. It may be that, as a whole, people are reverting to a more feudal system as in the past. Or not. Perhaps it is too soon to tell.

10pm

Sam is asleep, curled into me, her hand curled around my thumb holding it close to her chest. I can feel her every breath. Today has been a day of breathing easier, I think. The past few days have taken their toll on all of us. But they have also brought us closer as a unit, as a family. Tomorrow is Sammy’s birthday. We have all been planning this for several weeks now. I thank the gods we are all here to celebrate it.

Thus ends day 43, Mother’s Day 2005