After the War--The Journals

In which we depart on a new adventure

Day 17 Somewhere halfway up Mt Bromley
7:30 pm
The past three days have been horrible, but now things are somewhat calmer although still unsettled. Duncan, Lilac and I are no longer part of the castle community. We left 2 days ago amidst much screaming, yelling, threatening and all out fear.

The morning of Day 15, I was approached by John and Doc and told I could no longer keep my journal, that Matt/Donna were taking over as residential journalists/historians. I was told to turn over my journal. I refused. I told them I didn’t care if they took over as group whatever’s, but my journal was mine and I was keeping it. I was told to turn it over or I could leave. I had 24 hours to make up my mind.

I assume they thought I would do anything rather than leave. Assumptions….well, if the shoe fits….anyway, Duncan had overheard the last part and as soon as we were on guard duty, he mentioned it to me. He asked what I planned on doing. I looked at him and said, “I’m leaving. Want to come along?” I just spit it out, no thought involved. He said, “Yes.” Equally as quickly. He said he’d been thinking about it for a while too. He looked at me with a look that told me that he knew I had been thinking about it as well. I wondered if Lilac would want to come with us and if it was feasible. He said she would and had talked to him about it, that if he and I decided to leave, she would want to come if we didn’t mind or think she’d be a hindrance.

Throughout our watch, we planned how and where and when and then told Lilac about it when she brought us lunch. I swear she seemed to lose 25 years during the conversation. She almost sparkled! What a difference!

One of my biggest concerns had been what would we be allowed to take. If anything. Lilac reminded us that she lived nearby and there was much we could glean from their house. We didn’t know if it had been broken into, or if anyone was staying there, but if not then we could go there. I didn’t want to spend much time there though, as in ‘staying’ there, but no one else did either.

The following morning, Duncan, Lilac and I approached Doc and John and told them that we would be leaving. John back-handed me across the face (I still have a black eye) and started screaming about my being an ungrateful wretch and then things got a bit fuzzy.

When all was said in done and order once more restored, there had been, basically, an all out brawl! Somewhat as cathartic as it may have been, I wouldn’t have chosen to leave that way. We were told we could take only what we brought in. (I brought in smokes, a journal, clothes, purse and a tiny bit of money) I left with the same. John tried to take the journal, but Doc said that we wouldn’t last and not to worry about it.

The three of us left the castle without so much as a backwards glance. I had no clue what we might encounter, but what ever the future might bring, I felt sure it would be better than staying at the castle. Danny roamed along side us, clearly happy to be Outside!

That first day, we walked to Lilac’s house. It was clearly occupied. A couple of hours of walking later, we were on Route 11, deciding what to do next. We opted to head east, up the mountain towards where my ex-father-in-law’s place was. I hoped no one would be there, or, if there was someone there, that it was family.

It was hard going for Lilac, but she is one game lady! A few miles further up Rt. 11, we came across an empty hotel. I had fond memories of time spent at the “Avalanche” in the past, but nothing could compare with the feel of a real bed beneath me!!! The three of us all shared a king-sized bed in one of the rooms, all of us feeling safer together. There was no need for any sort of false modesty at this point and frankly, all I wanted to do was lie on a bed again. We raided the kitchen, i.e., we broke into the kitchen, and found a quantity of canned goods. We ate tuna, baby carrots, and ravioli…yum! A menu to die for!

Yesterday we slowly made our way up the mountain and arrived at what, in the past, I’d called the mountain house. From the outside, it looks like a shack. The inside is a different story. I guess it worked too, because there was no sign of anyone having disturbed it. The key for the front door was still over the back door. We are now ensconced, having eaten food cooked over the fire and settled into real beds in real bedrooms. Luxury…pure luxury.