“Our yearly visit,” Gage murmured from beside me. “One of these times, I’d like to see a volunteer we know return.”
I adjusted my hold on Bailey as the truck parked in the center of what had once been the high school football field. One year after the first bombs fell, we had returned to school. I’d stumbled through another couple of years of schooling before realizing I couldn’t keep up anymore, and there was no reason to. Many of the things we’d learned in the past weren’t as relevant anymore. People now taught medicine, gardening, sewing, fishing, construction, carpentry, and anything else necessary to survive. I missed learning and wished I had the chance to read more often, as we still did have a small library, but there just wasn’t any time for such things anymore.
Though my schooling had ended earlier than I’d hoped, at least I had learned what started the war when I’d returned to school. We’d been told Russia was behind the attack. They’d grouped together with North Korea and China to launch an invasion that had decimated our country, but ultimately failed.
There had been a similar attack in Europe and Asia that had been more successful. Many Middle Eastern countries had fallen to them before parts of Germany, France, Norway, and Sweden also succumbed. Now, like us, those countries were scattered and trying to rebuild behind a wall, but they were surviving.
We’d never seen the invaders here. They’d never come at us from the sea or across the land from the center of the country. The war that had been waged in the Midwest was something we had little idea about; the news stations hadn’t been running during the war, and the people who went to fight never returned.
When the government started recruiting people to build the wall a couple of months after the war started, people had gone, but none of them had returned either. Letters from those fighters, builders, and past volunteers made their way back every year, so we knew some of them were still alive.
Going to the wall was associated with death by some. Others believed it an adventure, a promise of better things for themselves and their families. It was usually the younger people who considered it an adventure, which was one of the reasons why I suspected the government started taking volunteers at sixteen.
I’d never considered volunteering, not with Gage and Bailey to care for. That didn’t mean I wasn’t as curious as everyone else about what went on at the wall and what became of the volunteers who left here and had yet to return. I wasn’t sure if it was the curiosity or the promises given that drove most of the volunteers to step forward.
It didn’t matter, the volunteers would keep enrolling and the government would keep coming for them. I watched as a woman with her hair pulled into a severe bun climbed down from the driver’s seat. Gray had started to streak her dark blonde hair. Lines had formed under her eyes and around her mouth. She stopped and stood at the front of the truck with her hands folded before her.
Lisa arrived beside me and handed me a caramel apple. I smiled as I took it; I hadn’t had one since last year, and they were one of my favorite treats. Somewhere in the distance, a guitar began to play and then the beat of drums sounded. It was the one day of the year when a celebratory air actually permeated the town again.
Perhaps it should be sad, some members of our town would be leaving today to never return, but it had become a day of excitement and new beginnings. The government brought in supplies, and letters from loved ones at the wall were handed out. Treats we didn’t have all year were concocted to say good-bye to the people who would be leaving us today. After the volunteers stepped forward, dancing would commence until they left at sundown.
I took a bite of the apple as Lisa walked over to kiss Asante’s cheek. They spoke in hushed whispers while I allowed Bailey to take a lick of the caramel coating. He nibbled at the apple before I took another bite and gave it to Gage.
“Mine!” Bailey shouted and grabbed for the apple. “Mine!”
“I can’t wait for him to outgrow this stage,” Gage muttered as he reluctantly handed the apple back into Bailey’s clapping hands. Bailey smiled happily and dove into the caramel once more. Sticky goo smeared his face and stuck in his hair when he finally came up for air again.
“I’m not getting it back, am I?” Lisa asked when she reappeared at my side.
“I’ll get you another one,” I told her.
She waved her hand dismissively. “I think he’s getting more joy out of it than I would. So how many volunteers are we thinking?”
“I said eight, Asante guessed eleven,” I replied.
“I’m thinking twelve,” she said.
“Nine,” Gage guessed.
Bailey rested one of his sticky hands against my cheek and giggled. “Thanks,” I said. I pulled his hand away and kissed his tiny fingers. He returned his attention to the caramel.
“I should be going. Have fun today,” Asante said. He kissed Lisa’s cheek before walking away. His shoulders were rigid in his forest green uniform shirt. Guard was spelled across the back of the shirt in gold letters.
“Let’s see what goodies we have this year!” Lisa declared.
Gage practically skipped ahead of us as we worked our way through the crowd while waiting for the volunteering to begin. The scents of frying fish, vegetables, and cooking sweets caused my stomach to rumble. The snap and crackle of the fires and the animated tones of the voices surrounding us added to the excitement of the day. The red and yellow tulips lining the outside of the field were in full bloom; their sweet aroma was barely discernible over the numerous foods filling the air.
The dunk tank in the back had become a big draw. Gage stepped forward to take his chance at knocking the kid into the water; on his second throw, he hit the bull’s-eye. The kid tumbled into the water with a big splash.
A cheer went through the crowd. A young girl stood on her toes to kiss Gage’s cheek. The fierce blush burning my brother’s face made me laugh out loud. He threw back his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stand more on end. I had to bite my cheek to stifle my laughter, but Lisa wasn’t quite so discreet.
Gage shot her a look before stepping away from the girl now digging her toe into the ground and turning the color of a lobster. Gage hurried into the crowd.
“Who was she?” I asked when we caught up to him.
“A girl.” He pretended to search the crowd as he tossed his answer back at me.
“Does this girl have a name?”
