Looking Back Chapters 1-3

Chapter 1
History teaches everything including the future.
Lamartine

Louis could feel his excitement mounting. For five days now his mind had been consumed with the anticipation of what he would discover.

Now that he had found it he couldn’t wait to show it to everyone. Interest in prehistoric civilization had risen to a feverish pitch in the last few months. The older generation had always been content dealing with the here and now, but Louis had a hunger for something more, something beyond the cozy life that Idyll had given him. There was so much more to know.

When his father had dreamed about his grandfather’s secret place, Louis felt he had to embark upon this long unprecedented trek to retrieve the ancient information.

He had found the sealed metal box right where his father dreamed it was buried and in it was a letter his grandfather had written over 50 years ago:

~~~

There is a construction known as “faith”, a concept that is completely foreign to me although I understand it in theory, it is something I cannot put into practice even though I see the multitudes employ it and incorporate it into the fabric of their existence. I myself must apply some form of scientific theory to virtually everything presented to me.

Faith is a luxury reserved for lazy thinkers. Question everything.
This in no way means you should question everyone. This does not mean that you are not accepting of anyone’s ideas. It simply means that more often than not the large majority is comfortably deluded. This poignant observation made me feel sadly disenfranchised when I was young, today I feel like a sage.


Twenty-first century primer

it is important to understand the relation of perception to reality. Impressionable minds, both young and old, become indoctrinated to a society by a wide array of methods and tools used to cultivate what can be termed “common knowledge” or more precisely “popular belief”. We are inundated from every angle as to what we must believe to be true in regards to our mores and morals. We are taught right from wrong.

Within a sophisticated society we must often acquiesce to the tyranny of the majority. Where most people become confused is in believing that this practical principle somehow applies to the realm of thought. Simply stated; we must think for ourselves and not blithely accept all of the mores and traditions set before us as natural law.

Very few of us have put ourselves in a position to question the foundation of contemporary society and remain in good standing with mental health professionals. This could be accomplished only by flying under the radar. When original ideas are expounded upon, one is sure to trip an alarm somewhere in the system, because the machine needs the conformity that underwrites structure.

It is somewhat unfortunate for my hand to be the vehicle in which this most objective reality must be relayed into your perception. As things have turned out it appears I am the only one qualified to complete this task. From my position it appears everyone else has fallen victim to the subjugation of autonomy.
My fear is that I must extend myself beyond my normal humility to attempt to tip-toe through the realm of righteousness.

Someday, when this writing is dusted off and read, I believe it will be an invaluable reference to those attempting to ascertain how we managed to get ourselves into the pickle that we did. I think it is important to illustrate how the societal structure of my day has strayed from reason.

Laws – Originally laws were a simple set of guidelines formed to sanction natural laws of logic and reason. Through centuries of civil evolution the basic nature of laws remained the same. The first perversion of this convention was the concept of lawyers. It was determined that there should be certain individuals designated to no longer be productive members of society but rather persons whose sole purpose would be to create, repeal and interpret laws. They would instantly be excused from producing any practical goods or critical services to the rest of humanity. Their sole purpose would be to extract payment and to feed off an individual’s misfortune in some way.

They are society’s most fundamental parasite.

These parasites adapted various ways to feed themselves, not the least of which being the civil suit where one party sues another for having greater culpability, vulnerability and/or resources. At the end of this arduous exercise the spoils are divided between the victor and his parasite, after which the parasite moves on to his next victim.
As astonishing as it seems this was not only tolerated but encouraged by contemporary society.
But there’s more:

Insurance- Once upon a time there was a man with a great idea. He looked upon his neighbor who was not as fortunate as he and said to him “if some misfortune falls upon you I will help you”, which appeared quite benevolent, until he added; “for a fee”. This concept eventually evolved into “something bad WILL happen to you unless you pay the fee”, or the illustrious ‘premium’ as it came to be referred to. By the latter twentieth century premiums became mandatory for anyone who wished to own a home, a method of transportation or even basic health care. People had been made to believe that they could not underwrite any part of their own existence. Insecurity had been mandated. Autonomy had been virtually outlawed.

Nothing is more expensive than money
Mortgages- The idea was implemented that you should be able to purchase a domicile for the equivalent of two years wages, yet you would take 30 years to pay it off. In most cases you would pay three times the amount you originally needed and the kickback amount would be termed ‘interest’. It does not take an intense application of scientific theory or even simple logic to determine whose “interest” is being served by this abomination.

These are just some of the tools that the powerful have used to leverage the lifeblood of the masses to their advantage. I could write of politics, the stock market, fascism, military and dozens of other means the powerful use upon the common man to perpetuate his needed higher standard of living but the point that needs to be driven home here is simply this:

I am no better, and neither are you, we are the same whatever we do.
-Sly

~

Chapter 2
History is philosophy teaching by example and also by warning.
Lord Bolingbroke

Darryl was too adventurous for the rest of his clan. Pop said the world outside the farm was far too dangerous. The plague was everywhere and it could kill you in a matter of hours. Bobby told him he’d be exiled if he ever wandered outside the property.

He had to be careful. Bobby knew how long it took to plow the lower forty so Darryl would work extra fast during harvest then go exploring for a few hours, always making sure he got back home before dark.
Nobody else knew about the highway. Darryl had discovered it years ago on one of his junkets. It cut through the forest about 4 miles west of properties edge.

He liked the quiet out here. The occasional bird call and rustling of the few scattered rodents were so infrequent that the silence was nearly constant.

When his treasured silence became broken by a strange whirring noise Darryl felt his pulse quicken. He crouched in the underbrush lining the road. To his amazement he saw a tiny car come around the bend from the north. His fear overruled his excitement as he lay there motionless and watched the little vehicle disappear to the south, splaying the fine debris in its wake.

Once the whirring had ceased he raced back to his dirt bike and tore through the underbrush back home. To hell with careful, Bobby had to know about this.

When the boys were young Pop would take all three of them into the city for supplies, especially fuel. Pop figured the vast reserves left in the city wouldn’t be consumed for hundreds of years. Anything they weren’t going to burn as fuel was thoroughly sterilized at the halfway house before being brought in. Pop had built the halfway house as soon as they crawled out of the cellar they had lived in for over a year after the plague.
Pop was what they called a survivalist in the old days, the only one smart enough to lay low long enough to survive the plague. The only one smart enough to know the plague was still 'out there' when the crazies tried to get to the farm.

Darryl knew that Bobby and Dale would be out shopping. As always, they had their hazmat suits on when they were scavenging the city. Pop had literally beaten it into them that they will not leave the farm without protection. When they saw Darryl hurtling toward them on his dirt bike unprotected, they were stunned. Bobby slammed on the brakes of the fuel truck and jumped out of the truck.

“What the hell!” He screamed, knowing full well that Darryl could not hear him over the microphone. Darryl was waving his arms and pointing to his left alternately, Bobby looked in that direction but saw nothing, when he got close enough he threw Darryl to the ground and put his faceplate up to Darryls ear so he could hear him.

“Are you out of your fuckin mind?” Bobby shrieked. Darryl kept yelling but Bobby couldn’t hear him.

“Follow us to the halfway house…NOW!” He picked up Darryl and launched him back towards his bike.

Within five minutes they were back at the halfway house. Bobby motioned Darryl to the loading area while he and Dale went through decon. Back on the safe side Bobby put his helmet back on and gestured for Darryl to do the same through the window.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“Just listen to me. I saw somebody out there.”

“Oh man, Darryl, you’re dead now. Fucking Dead!” He turned to Dale, “he’s got the delusions already, he’ll be dead in a few hours.”

“Damn it Bobby, just listen for once! I’m not dead, I’ve been walking around in the danger zone unprotected for years. Now, just today, I saw someone driving down the road!”

Bobby dropped the helmet to the floor. “Dale, I can’t take this, it’s just too fucking sad. He saw ‘somebody’ on ‘the road out there’. You talk to him while I try to figure out what we’re gonna do now.”

Dale, the youngest and most sympathetic of the three brothers, picked up the helmet and said; “Darryl this is nuts.”

“But it’s true man. There is someone else out there, driving down the big highway!”

“Darryl, no one's been out there for 40 years. You got the fever man.”

“I ain’t got no fever! Shit, if I did I’d been dead years ago. Like I said I been walkin’ around out there for 20 years.”

“That’s just the fever talking. You remember those feverish folks from when we were kids Darryl. It always ends up the same way. For some folks it just took a little longer.”

“Not twenty years Dale, holy shit just let me in.”

Bobby grabbed the helmet back. “Darryl, you are never coming back. We can’t risk you infecting the family. You best take the Ford, some extra gas, go back to your “road” and find your friend in the car, cuz if you come back on the property I’ll have to kill you myself.” He turned off the two-way and pointed to him just like Pop did right before a good whippin’.

Despite the screams they could hear even through the plate glass, Bobby couldn’t bear to look at his doomed brother. Dale stopped and stared until Bobby said; “C’mon Dale, we got to break the news to the family.”

Chapter 3
History cannot give us a program for the future, but it can give us a fuller understanding
of ourselves, and of our common humanity, so that we can better face the future.
Robert Penn Warren

Douglas remembered very little of the weeks immediately following Day One. He was only 4 years old at the time and it was last time he saw his father. He had fleeting visions of his father, but not one recollection of his mother. The only clear memory he had from before the Day was the story of the box. His father wanted to impress upon him the story of the box.
For 48 years he thought the story was just a child’s dream but then a few weeks ago he had another vivid dream of his father and realized his memory of the story was a memory and not a dream.

Louis, like many others, had become fascinated by the thought of what the world was like before The Day. Douglas’ generation had learned to forget about it. The Proctors had dissuaded the original inhabitants to think of events before day one.
Now that the Proctors have been gone for many years there was no one to enforce the taboo, it's potency was vastly diminished on the second generation. Neither Louis nor his peers had never seen a Proctor, as far as they knew Douglas was the oldest human alive.

Once he knew about it's existence, Louis couldn't wait to take the long journey to find the box. He was certain there would be something in it to solve the great mystery of pre-historic society.

~

Laura was one of the original 44 to inhabit Idyll. As long as she could remember she was fascinated with nature. She was the authority on botany, chemistry and healing. The 153 current residents looked to her for her advice on anything to do with any natural science. Laura loved people above all else, her mere presence could make anyone feel good.

She was plucking some aloe leaves just outside of town when she noticed Louis approaching way too fast for the gravel road in the Sunbeam.

She whirled from the plant and waved her arms, “Louis, slow down!”
Louis brought the small vehicle to a sliding halt on the gravel and leaped from the car.
“Mom, I found it! I found grandpas old box!”
As much as she loved everyone, she loved her only son even more; she felt she should scold him for driving like a maniac but the joy of seeing him come back after his week long sojourn completely stifled that urge. All she could do was smile and hold out her arms.
Louis wanted to jump into them like he did when he was a toddler, but at 24 he restrained the urge.

“I can’t wait to show Dad, you know how hard it is to curb your enthusiasm for 3 days?”
“Harder for you than anyone else Louie.” Laura was the only person that could call him Louie, even his sisters knew better. He would always be her little boy.

“C’mon.”, he picked up her basket full of herbs, took her hand in his, “let’s go!”
They jumped into the car; Louis dropped it into gear and spun the tires on the gravel. "Oops", he cast a sheepish smile at his mother, proceeded at a steady pace down the road.

They knew where Douglas would be. They had to call him to shore because the waves were high enough to body surf. When the ocean was calm Douglas usually sat on the shore and read or just meditated.

As he waded on to the beach Louis threw the box on the dry sand. Douglas stopped and looked at it, “so this is Pandora’s box”. Louis was so used to his dad making esoteric references that he ignored it and said “open it.”

“I am thinking you already have. What have you have found son?”
“The first link, this could be the beginning of our quest to find out where we came from, who we really are and what the world was like before the Day.”

People were beginning to gather. It was no secret Louis had taken a trip up the highway to get this box.  He had gone farther than anyone had ever gone since history began. There never was much point to travel, a few miles up the highway and you found nothing but barren land, sparse vegetation and scarcer still, wildlife. You could go north, south or west and you would find little of any value. To the east was nothing but ocean.

Douglas picked up the box and contemplated it. He was certain he could conceal his ancient fear of bringing the deep past to light. The proctors had made it clear to him in his formative years that he would be the person the villagers would look to for counsel in the forthcoming years. Their prophecies came to fruition and Douglas wore it well. The people of Idyll respected him for his calm capable demeanor and his knowledge of all things practical.

Twice in the last 46 years the village encountered a hurricane. Douglas sensed the danger and convinced everyone to dig in until the storms passed.

He sat down, opened the box, took out the letter, silently read it, put it back in the box, then perused the ever growing crowd.

“This is good news”. He looked around, acknowleding the throng that had gathered. “What would you guys think of having a get-together so everybody can celebrate?” He waited for the almost everyone to nod in consent.
“Okay then, 7 o’clock at the center, be there!” The crowd began to disperse.

Douglas walked over to Louis and asked; “did you read the whole thing?”

“Yeah, but I can’t say I understood it all, especially that gibberish on the back”

Douglas had already read it; allez à la carlingue, regardez sous le plancher. He knew this message was intended solely for him. All of the other residents of Idyll had no clue that French, or France for that matter had ever existed, much less understand the language.
One of the proctors had tutored him in this strange language and for some reason this was a line they wanted him to learn;
go to the cabin, look under the floor.

They had to go alone. He would have to find out what was in the cabin before letting the whole village know anything about this.

“Louis, who else read the letter?”
“Just me Dad, I brought it right to you, I picked up Mom outside of town but we didn’t even talk about the letter”
“Good. I want you to come with me, okay?”
“Sure. Where are we going?”
“Down the road to a place I haven’t been to for a long, long time.”

~

“By the way Dad, why is this good news?”. Louis was staring at the sky as Douglas motored south on the old highway.
“The good news is that I thought of a diversion quick enough to not have to read the letter to everybody. I am sure there was a reason why the proctors kept pre-history from us. I am even surer that my father wanted me to see what’s in the cabin before anybody else does.”
“What cabin?”
“The place the proctors took me to for private tutoring when I was a boy, it’s on the other side of the forest.”
“Who knows about this cabin?”
“Only me. And of course your mother.”
Oh yes, of course my mother, Louis thought, they were well known for sneaking off together since forever. I guess Dad had a very good reason for keeping the existence of it to himself.
“I guess it’s obvious now that at least one other person in the family knew about the cabin.”
“Evidently.”

As they ventured away from the village the old road became nothing more than a vine strewed path. Near the very edge of the forest this spur was seldom traversed since the Day. The sunbeam was equipped to negotiate rough terrain, they drove to the end of the road, then stopped at the boulder that Douglas had used to mark the path to the cabin.The old path was barely discernable through the years of vegatative growth, he was glad he had marked it every twenty paces or so with coral rock.

As they finally approached the cabin Douglas' trepidation was momentarily displaced by the memories of all the wonderful days he and Laura had spent here. Decades ago he had spent almost as much time here as he had at the village. This had been his second home. This is where even the idea, not to mention the very existence, of Louis and his sisters had been conceived.

Curiosity is a natural trait for all living creatures, especially humans. During the early days the Proctors had learned how to orchestrate the curiosity of their young charges. Questions regarding origin were deftly sidestepped.
Idle curiosity was discouraged as much as productive curiosity was encouraged.

The proctors were as parents to the original 44. They introduced the children to all the wonders of their world. The vast resources of their community provided the few residents a life without hunger, without struggle. The young population of Idyll were free to pursue the more lofty quests of the human existence.

During the first decade after the day there were as many proctors as there were young citizens of Idyll.
As the people reached puberty the Proctors moved on to places unknown. A few remained until year 17, then there were none.

Douglas was the eldest of the tribe. He alone had any memories of the world before the Day. He alone was entrusted with the cabin. In all the time he spent at the cabin he had never had the slightest urge to look under the floor, the Proctors had made certain that they had extinguished every scintilla of idle curiosity Douglas may have possessed.

Now as the cabin was upon them Douglas could plainly see the hatch to the crawlspace under the cabin that he had never bothered to notice before. Although the edges were camouflaged into the design of the structure the nuance of design that indicated a small door became obvious to anyone who was looking for it.

Douglas walked up to it, knelt down and wrenched the door open immediately.

"What we seek lies within, Louis."