The Garden Club by James Gerard (bill gates best books .TXT) 📕

“Why not?”

“How much water you have left?”

“About three quarts.  You?”

“I’m out.”

“How in the world could you do that?  We have to preserve what we have.”

“I was thirsty.”

“If we don’t find any water by tomorrow then we’re going to be in trouble you know.”

“There’s gotta be water around here somewhere.  If we have to, we’ll follow around the next pride of lions we come across.  They’ll lead us to water.”

They tromped through about five miles or so through the thick and tall and green grass, the whole time staying in areas cleared by grazing herds of Oryx and donkeys.  Along the way they also spotted what appeared to be light coated gazelle and brownish, stoutly built cattle.

Hal spotted yet some other familiar creatures.  Wild cats? he thought.  There was one with yellowish-gray fur, long legs, and tufted ears moving about to detect the sounds of what were probably mice scattering about the grass in search for succulent insects.

Further up, Hal spotted another cat with sandy brown fur, long legs and short tail, but with ears that were small and rounded.  Forgetting for the moment that it was not like the domesticated species that once existed, Hal walked up to it, “Come here kitty.”

The cat hissed and arched its back.  It then bolted into the thick matte of grass for cover.

“You idiot,” laughed Ron.  “You better stay clear of them.”

“Reminded me of old times.” Hal chuckled.

 Hal heeded to Ron’s warning and steered clear of where the cat scattered into the brush, and was prepared to do the same with any other animal that appeared docile.  Still, being swept away by what was seen and heard was a temptation hard to refuse.  How all this came to be, he thought, they certainly kept it covered up.

*                              *                                *

The day turned into night.  Continuing under the bright lights of the stars and waxing moon, Hal could see the silhouettes of lone animals that strayed away from the main herds.  Along with the sounds of hyenas whooping, the roar of male lions, braying of donkeys, howls could be heard. 

Thinking the howling came from jackals out and about hunting, he realized they were too deep and long to be coming from such small animals.  Wolves?  With the memories of the cat’s survival instinct fresh in the mind, fear heightened the senses.  As if just feet away, crouched in the tall grass whining and growling, yipping and barking could be heard.

With every step and with every passing minute and hour, came the expectation of something bad happening.  It could come from a lion's paw swatting him to the ground then applying a choke hold on the neck.  Maybe, a pack of hyenas or wolves lleading him into a trap so they could tear the flesh apart in a feeding frenzy.

He looked to Ron.  As if unaware of the dangers around, he did not swivel his head from side to side but focused straight ahead.

While staring in amazement at his friend’s lack of fear, Hal scanned the horizon hoping to spot a moonbeam glinting off a shiny surface, but none was seen.  He reached down and grabbed another handful of grass and stuffed the dew-covered blades into the mouth and chewed the blades into a liquid pulp.  The thirst, however, went unquenched.

Hal was desperate for water.  At the pace they were going he knew they needed gallons and gallons of it if the intent was on hiking the following afternoon.  Hal looked back to Ron’s pale face.  It was glossy with sweat.  He was also lagging further behind.  “You want to stop?”

“Do you see water at all?”

“No.”

“How ‘bout trees?”

“Just more grass.”

“Walk a little bit more.”

Hal was worried about his friend.  It was the first time he had shown any sign of weakness during the trek.  “Hey,” he shouted, “don’t eat any more bugs, okay.”

“Huh?”

“I said don’t eat any more bugs.  Just chew on the grass.”

“Yeah, chew on the grass.”

Ron stooped down then suddenly collapsed.

Hal rushed to his side and knelt down.  Noticing the panting, he placed a hand to the forehead, “You have a fever.  You must’ve picked up something from the bugs you’ve been eating.”  He pulled out a bottle of aspirin from Ron's pocket.  “Here, this should help.”

“No,” said Ron as he swatted away the hand.  “Get my bottle of medication.”

“I think this would be the right time to tell me what’s going on,” said Hal as he poured a small dose in Ron’s mouth.

“It’s nothing.”

“Like hell it’s nothing.  Now what’s wrong?”

“I said don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t do this to me!  Now what the hell is wrong?”

“I just need some rest is all.”

Although Hal was upset with Ron for not revealing the sickness, he could not stay mad.  Instead, the tent was set up and a sleeping bag rolled out inside.  Carefully, Ron was lifted off the ground and carried inside the tent.

Hal then looked over the area.  “Come on,” he whispered while staring at the mingling herd of Oryx and gazelle grazing in the grass, “you have to drink water don’t you?”

As the sun rose higher into the sky, the time to search for a distant lake or pond or river was running by fast.  Ron needed water.  Hal again looked around.  He figured there just had to be water nearby.  Thoughts about waking Ron crossed the mind, but were cancelled quickly by the rest that would do him a lot better than hiking about looking for a water source.  He decided to let him sleep while a solo search for water was ensued.  With four empty quart bottles in hand and the tent’s position plotted with the compass, Hal started out in an easterly direction.

Conscious of the fact that aimlessly drifting about would only lead to further dehydration, Hal walked a little bit then rested.  In every direction the binoculars scanned the horizon for rays of the rising sun glinting off the surface of a lake or pond or river.  Close attention was paid to the movement of the animals, especially the nursing mothers who certainly had to drink daily in order to keep up with the needs of their young.  But it seemed they were only content on grazing.

“Darn!  Why you punishing us?  You are going to let us die out here?”

He sat down and began to massage the leg muscles aching from cramps.  “Why couldn’t you let me just quit?  Why didn’t you let me take Kenneth’s offer years ago?  But no, you just couldn’t do that could you because you led me to believe there was something better.”  Hal laughed having known the answers that were always there.  “Well look around Hal you idiot, see where it’s gotten you and Ron?”

All of a sudden noise filled the air.  Hal looked up but could not spot anything moving beyond the tall grass.  He sat still to concentrate on the sounds about him—“people?”

Eyes scanned the direction the clatter was coming from.  He watched a group of people walk out into the open.  No more than fifty feet away, Hal could clearly see whom he thought were the two hunters that were spotted previously.  This time, they were accompanied by other men and women.  They strolled through the tall grass in an easterly direction.

Uncertain of their identity and friendliness, Hal fought the impulse to reveal his position.  But driven by thirst, something had to be done.

Checking the direction of the breeze, Hal crouched down and crawled over to the right.  The wind swept across the face as the stare was fixed on the group some three hundred feet away.

Thoughts again urged to follow them, but no matter how desperation beckoned, the fear over how he would be received held the thought captive.  But if they were heading out looking for water, then it would be worth the risk.

All of a sudden, the detection of what sounded of rumbling in the distance caught the attention.  A stampede? he wondered.  But as the noise rumbled louder and louder the nearer the approach, the source of the sound brought a smile to the face.

With apprehension still looming on the forefront of the thoughts, Hal waited until the group of people disappeared from sight, then rushed to the source of the rumbling—a flowing river.

Without thinking, Hal plunged his hands into the water and gulped down handful after handful of cool water.  Grabbing onto a fistful of reeds growing along the bank of the fast flowing river, he made his way to a large rock and submerged under the cool water.  The heat in cramped muscles was taken away fast.  The current washed away the oily film of dirt and grime that had clung to the clothes and body .  A newfound energy reinvigorated the lust for life.

After a few minutes of pleasure, Hal dragged himself out of the water and considered Ron.  Four quart bottles were quickly filled and a purification tablet dropped in each.  Not wanting to be discovered by the group, the binoculars scanned the opposite side of the bank searching for their presence, but the search was interrupted by a peculiar sight—“trees?”  He could not be sure if remnants of the dehydrated state had played tricks on the mind, but it appeared the clumps rising into the horizon were indeed trees.  The field of vision was then shifted both up and down the river looking for a shallow spot to cross, but none could be seen.  The dire circumstances of his friend’s failing health stopped the search.  He could not wait a minute longer.  With the water in hand, Hal sprinted back to Ron.

“Wake up,” he shouted.  “I found water.”

Ron looked up with a dazed look and mumbled, “Water.”

“I found a river.”

Ron tried to get up but Hal pressed on his shoulders and nudged him back onto the sleeping bag.  “Just lay down.  You’re still feverish.”

“We gotta get to the river.”

“Here, drink.”  Hal lifted up his head and poured water into his mouth.

“I don’t feel so good,” Ron moaned.

“We’re almost there.  Just hold on.”

“Where?”

“I think I spotted trees.  If we can get across the river, I believe we’ll have a better chance on the other side.”

“Good,” Ron mumbled.  His head collapsed back onto the sleeping bag.

Hal looked at the cold clammy skin and body shivering atop the bag.  He feared Ron’s fever was brought on by something more than just eating bugs.  Whatever the cause of the illness, he decided to let Ron rest for the remainder of the day and through the night.  If by morning he was feeling better, then they would go off together in search of a crossing place.

*                              *                               *

Feeling the warmth of the bright morning sun and breathing in the bouquet of the sweet scented springtime flowers carried by a gentle breeze, Hal looked at the compass and pointed, “That way.”

He shook his head and smiled.  It seemed that the extra rest re-energized Ron too well as his friend took off at a fast and steady pace.  But while the sight brought a smile to the face, the awareness of potential dangers at the river’s bank turned the contented expression into a fearful countenance.

Considering the group seen was a remnant of the enemies fought in the war to end all wars, they had to exercise caution.  Such caution was based on both their appearance and activities.  He wondered if they had converted back to hate. That could only be the logical conclusion, pondered Hal.

Hunting for personal gain had been, at least as it had been understood, outlawed by the corporate heads.  By all appearances, the group had thumbed their noses at the new rule of order and gone back to a life of self-sufficiency and autonomous rule.

Approaching the river, they both stopped and stared intently at the abundance of fresh water as it streamed by at a fierce pace.

“We won’t be able to get across it here,” said Hal.  “We might not be able to get across it at all.”

“It’s spring,” said Ron.  “It’s just swollen for now from wherever the headwater is.  If we need to, why can’t we wait it out awhile until it’s moving slower?”

“Our food supply will