A-Z Xtra

     Næsten hver dag klokken 12 har der gennem hele april måned kommet et A-Z indlæg her på bloggen.
     Temaet har været ekkoer, de løse ender, halve projekter, nye begyndelser, gyldne løfter og lokkende udsigter. Nu er det så slut for i år.
     Det har været anstrengende, men også sjovt at finde på noget at skrive hver dag.
     Her er så en lille ekstrapost om den anden fortsatte historie her på bloggen: Historien om Mary, Allan og verdens ende.

Ⓐ - Ⓩ

Almost every day all through April at noon a new A-Z post has gone live on my blog. The theme was Echoes, finishing touches, half done projects and endings. Now we've reached the finishing line for this year.
  It has been fun, I have written more than normally, and visited way more new blogs than I use to as well. But I'm glad that I now face 11 months without this pressure.
  As a small extra I have this post. It's about the other story taking up space at this blog: Mary, Allan and the End of the World.

-- ✈ --

Efter at jeg havde set, hvad Olga Godim kunne få ud af diverse biller og sammenklip til forsider, fik jeg lyst til at prøve selv. Det er ikke noget, jeg har prøvet før eller er god til. Men på Pexel by Louis fandt jeg et billede, der var perfekt til min historie om Mary og Allan. Jeg har kun tilsat bogstaver og en lille flyvemaskine.

Ⓐ - Ⓩ

After seeing what Olga Godim could do with those covers of hers, I wanted to try my hand at covermaking. I'm not good at it, but I found the perfect photo at Pexel by Louis for my story of Mary and Allan. I have only been playing around with the fonts and colours of the letters - and an airplane.

Mary and Allan - Goslar 2

The people left at Rammelsberg did not just sit down and wait. They had everybody moving, potting, watering and transplanting seedlings from the cockpit to every free space on the floating village, and then the shelves "Hanging gardens" someone remarked, were filled up with new earth and seeds, this time selecting the plants that needed longer days and more heat.
Inside the plane Sarah was readying pallets and medical things with the help of Granny T and the older children. The two timid Polish girls came over. They were both nurses in training, best friends and eager to help and learn. They repeated all the names of things in English, and Janet and the four children from Castle Kronborg had the wonderful experience of being able to teach someone knowing less than themselves and eager to learn.
When the first aid quarter was almost done, one of the young girls slowly and hesitantly spoke up: "We need move beds. They be ill, maybe. Isolating?"
"Hanna, you're a genius!" Sarah said. "Yes we move. Move to a hut in the village. Let's do!" And Janet, Lil'George, the four from Kronborg, and even Gregor and his best friends, the twins Adam and Benny helped carry pallets, glasses and water bottles and medical things to the plane door where Hanna and Zofia handed them down to Sarah, standing in the boat.
Mary, helped by Astrid and Bengt the Swedish couple, evacuated one of the smaller floating huts and moved some plants so that it would be convenient to carry people aboard on stretchers. "How many do you think they will be bringing back, if any at all" Mary asked.
"Your guess is as good as mine," Sarah answered, "I hope they find some alive, but I fear no more than 20. Those caves are normally not just walk in-places, you go in in groups, led by guides. Most of those groups are 20, like in Wieliczka" Hanna and Zofia nodded. "We did 20," Zofia said smiling. "And they have to be deep inside to survive. Maybe two lucky groups. By now the old, and the weak will have died. Half left is a good guess."

Some time before sunset Mary, who were keeping watch at the top of Rammelsberg building a small fire, binoculars at the ready, spied the returning boats. She started waving the flag and calling out. Bengt came running over, bringing the megaphone and a fire brand.
"No need for fire," Mary said, "but please call them, they seem to be a bit off course."
Two of the boats could be seen splitting off from the group and turning towards Rammeslberg, the other three continued towards the east.
"They are going to Herrmannscave," Mary guessed. "I fear to hear what they found in the Iberg caves."

Mary's fear was justified. They walked back to the plane in time to show the two boats to the readied hospital hut.
In the boat lay eleven human forms, swaddled in blankets and every piece of clothing that could be expended from the rowers. They were thin, weak, unable to even sit, with big, shining eyes.
"Don't even try to speak," Sarah said. "We'll take care of you." They were carefully carried to the cots in the hospital hut and Sarah, Zofia and Hanna stayed with them. Granny T filled the thermos with new, hot soup and everybody carried blankets and spare clothes to the boats. "We're leaving again immediately," Tom said. "Every minute counts for people as hungry as these."
Mona, Matthew, Lisa and Cordelia was asked to take over in the rowing team and John, James, Pete and Sally gave up their spots to the fresh rowers.

The people left in Rammeslberg gathered in the plane. Pete spoke slowly, softly: "It was terrible. They just lay there, in the opening of the cave in the sparse sunshine. Dead and living among one another. Holding hands. Not reacting, not speaking. I think they thought we were hallucinations. We had to check all of them for signs of life, and some even died as we touched them. Some of the bodies had missing parts, But we found no fires, and it seems that the raw meat had not agreed with them." He shook his head. "I think this is all I need to tell of that cave. If we go there, we'll have to send a clean up squad ahead. We decided to split up with the strongest hurrying on to Hermanns and Baumanns caves. And the other two boats getting those people here and then stocking up on everything they could think of and have young fresh people rowing to catch up. They will be rowing as fast as humanly possible, and we should expect to see them again tomorrow. Keep a lookout and have the fire burning at all time. I'll take the first turn up there," Pete ended.
"Not until you've eaten, you won't!" Granny T said, and led Pete into the kitchen nook.
"I go," Bengt said simply, and patted Pete's shoulder awkwardly. The square, reliable Swede was on his way before Pete even reacted.
Mary found some stones stowed in the sides as ballast and heated theme and swaddled them in soft rags. She filled a basket of these and rowed to the sick hut. Hannah received her with thanks. "Those poor people. They have used up all their energy just staying alive. Keeping them warm and feed them soup and sweet tea by the spoonful is all we can do. And then hope and pray of course. And, Mary, could you ask for someone speaking German, I have to tell them so that they understand ... deep inside that they are safe now."

Mary hung a big hunk of her best soap on a rope outside the sick hut. "And you use it!" she said to Hannah and her team. "We'll need no viruses or whatever going around!" Then she rowed back and repeated Hanna's request. One of the young men called Adam from Wieliczka arose and said that he spoke German. "Even if my English is not very good, my German is," he said.
"As long as you understand English well enough to repeat what Hannah tells you," Mary said with relief.
"I'll go there as well," father Paul said. "My German may not be much, but I can pray!" Father Paul rowed the boat for the short distance, then they disappeared into the hut.

"We have to make another hut ready for reception of possible people from those two other mines," Mary said simply.
"We prepared 20 cots. Eleven are now occupied, How many more do we need?" Ulla said.
"I don't know," Mary said. "But I'd rather have 100 too many than one too few when they return."
They agreed upon evacuating and readying two more huts, making room for 60 people in all.
"I can't make up my mind whether I hope to fill those beds up or not," Granny T said. "We're running low of foods too fast for my liking, and those ones too will need high fat and protein foodstuff. We need a cow! This all was never thought for so many, so hungry people."
Pete came to her aid. "I saw a big bag of chickpeas in the store room the other day. We can make some sort of nut-mash with those. It won't be tasty, but if we add oil, sugar and ground up vitamin supplements it will pump them back up in next to no time. As soon as they can eat, they should be given 6 spoonfuls a day. I'll prepare some, and then go to the huts with it."
Minna looked lovingly at her husband: "Do you remember what I said about him being a health freak," he said to Mary. "This is so much him."

Hannah, Zofia and Sarah set a schedule for the care of the famished people from Iber. Always one of the three at attendance, and Hannah sleeping in the small hut next to the sick hut. Father Paul sat on a chair in the sick hut, praying or softly singing until he almost fell from the chair and Hannah ordered him to lie down on one of the empty pallets. "You're no help to anybody if you fall over from sheer lack of sleep!" she said in a half mocking tone.
Father Paul meekly obeyed, sleeping with one eye open and always ready for a comforting word or a short prayer.
In the morning all eleven were still alive. Ten of them seeming to grow stronger, but one very fragile looking man with a moustache kept getting weaker and more translucent with each passing hour.
Father Paul walked over to him and took his hand. "I know you're told not to speak," he said in faltering German. "But listen, you can do!" The man nodded once. "I am a priest. And I am telling you that we all need you here. Not in Heaven! You are not alone any more. You will not be left alone. I sit here. I stay!" Father Paul knew the Lord's prayer in a multitude of languages, his only hobby, he once told Allan was collecting prayers in foreign languages. And now he prayed this prayer over and over again, dozing and praying all day. The man with the moustache still lived as the sun set. Father Paul heard the commotion as the other boats returned, but he stayed at the man's side, fed him soup and tea with a drop of whiskey and prayed and sung. All through the night father Paul held his hand, eating and drinking one-handedly, even peeing in a bucket with a blanket round him for privacy. Next morning the man looked better, his skin had lost its paper white translucency and he slept peacefully.
"Father, you worked a miracle there," Hannah said. "The other boat have brought 13 living dead back. They are a bit better off. Tom says Allison is livid. They seem to have slaughtered and eaten all the colourless olms in that cave in order to to survive."
"No problem!" the man with the moustache whispered.
"Don't speak," Hannah said automatically, but father Paul asked: "Why is it not a problem that they ate the probably last animals on earth?" The man tried to swallow, and father Paul fed him more lukewarm tea. He got several teaspoons inside before whispering: "All males."
"The olms in that cave were all males?" father Paul said and the man nodded and fell asleep. "Hannah, will you please go and tell Allison that those strange creatures might have saved the life of 13 people, and that they were not destined for survival anyhow. What a story!" father Paul said with a soft but hearty laughter.

Mary and Allan - Goslar 1

This Wednesday the words are over at WiseWebWoman's blog. This Wednesday we were given:

Colourless
Slaughter
Moustache
Jockey
Eliminate
Whiskey
Thermometer
Wickedness

  And ... I made another OOPSIE. Yesterday's WfW should not just have been posted without preamble, without words etc. But I accidentally clicked Publish after having set the date. And that's why it autopublished in the wee hours of my Wednesday morning, even before the prompts from WWW - living in a time-zone where midnight comes 4½ hours later than my place - was published.
  I did not want to take the chapter back down again, trying to weave in the words -- which did not even fit in at all. Instead I wrote another chapter of Mary and Allan's story. The one connecting Wielicka and Father Paul's Quandary.
 I just realized that this chapter became awfully long. I have to split it up in two parts.

 Remember to go back, read other peoples' stories there or follow their links back. And please place a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction.
 Tom spoke to everybody the next morning: "We are set on the right course to the mine-museum in Goslar. It was, and still is situated at the foot of the Harzer mountains. The Rammelsberg, under which the mine was situated, is with its 635 metres tall enough to push up through the waters even now at their highest, but it would be rather an isolated top. We'll start looking there of course, but if there's nobody there then what?"
Allison and Allan rose simultaneously. "Yes?" Tom said. "Allison, I think you were first, go on, speak."
"There's caves nearby, what more is large cave complexes with entrances above water even now, and some of those caves were ... I hope the right word is "ARE" inhabited by fabulous creatures, the olms!"
Allan said: "The nearest cave is surely the dripstone caves in Iberg. I would think that the People from Goslar would go there. As far as I remember, you should be able to walk there, at least if you set out some time ago. Now the lower parts of the path will probably be inundated. I think we could do much worse than going there. The climate will be mild, and caves, both Iberg and Herrmanscave - the one with the olms and its neighbouring Baumann, I think it's called, would give us somewhere to live until trees can grow and we again can build houses.
"I protest!" Allison said. "Nobody should be allowed to live in Herrmanscave. Those olms are strange creatures, if they still live. They are very sensitive to pollution and loud noises. We should leave them alone ... after ascertaining that they still are there and put eventual flooded specimens back in. Also it's cold. It's really not fit for human beings in there, the thermometer staying at around 8 degrees Celcius at any time."
"We have a job, I see" Tom said. Lets see, Allan and Allison, come here, help me find those places on the map and show everyone.
"It looks good," Tom said. "The distance to the cave from Rammelsberg, which we will reach around noon, is not more than 15 kilometres. The two other caves are to the east," he pointed to the map, which Allan and Allison held up. "Here, maybe 45 kilometres east and a bit south. But the big mountains, among these the well known Brocken lies in between, going there by sailing around would be the obvious choice."

"Actually," Allan said, "those mountains are riddled with caves and hollows. I would not be surprised if we were able to find more people if we looked around."
Mona rose: "But finding all these people will do us no good if we do not land somewhere soon and get to growing plants for all to eat. I'd like us to go to Iberg and start a farm on the slopes and flat parts to the west."
"We are pressed for time on both accounts," Mostly in the people's department, Mary said. Today is, believe it or not, only the 15th of April. Time enough for growing. But if those places were just somewhat like Wielicka with above ground cafeteria and so on, people will be starving, if not dead from hunger already. It would be pure wickedness not to go searching as fast as possible."
"I had forgotten, Mona said. " The Wave made the temperature rise, we have experienced a lot in those short weeks since. It feels like years instead of months. But it does not eliminate the need to transplant the plants in the cockpit."
We can convert most of the village huts to plants, at least all outside spaces. And we can do this while still sailing. Boats and hands we do not lack!" Mary said emphatically.
"But first, let's hurry on to Goslar," Tom said.

The big boats in front of the village, and the medium ones in front of the plane were again manned with the smaller boats trailing form the plane. Ropes connected all huts, and the plane, criss-crossing so that even the timid ones dared brave the open water in between.
Soon islands were seen in the water and once again line throwers were placed in all boats. The going got slower.
"This is dumb." Jan, the big man from Wieliczka said, and continued in Polish. "He suggests we split up, anchoring village and plane here, and then rowing all but the two small boats there with strong people, and dare I suggest Eva and that bow?"
"It's the need for haste versus the need for security," Allan summed up. But then again, If we run aground here, there's no telling how long it'll take us to get seaworthy again."
"We had good luck with sending out small groups," Mary said simply. "We had torches and flagpoles, Pete and George made it to Elsinore, over the Sund to Helsingborg and back to us again with the boats and Astrid and Bengt. That's double the distance or more, I think, than the distance from Goslar to Iberg. And we have boats now."
"Yes, well, should we vote?" Allan asked.
Everybody was asked aboard the plane, carefully, distributing the weight as per Tom and Hank's commands. Then first Tom, then Allan, Jan - translated by Danuta, Mona and Mary repeated their arguments and embellished upon them for all to hear. Then Allan suggested a vote again. "All in favour of splitting up raise your hands!"
Almost everybody did so. "And those against!" Only 6 people were against. Five of those were wieliczkans. One of them, a lady spoke and Danuta translated: "They say to not go alone. Be afraid of ambushes like the one they staged."
"I think," Mary said, "that we need be more afraid of people dying than ambushing us. How would you have looked today?" she asked, looking at the woman who had objected. After Danuta's translation of the question, she slowly nodded.
"For how long can a person survive without food?" Mary asked.
Fred answered. "Approximately 40 days, depending on how fat you are and other variables. Not walking and keeping warm would be essential. I'd say that if we find survivors in caves around here, they will pose not threat to us."

The floating village and the plane anchored at the Rammelsberg. At least Tom said that the north south coordinates were absolutely correct for Rammelsberg, ergo he concluded that this was where they were. They could see mountains rising to the south and east, and not so tall hills south and west; totally in accordance with what would be expected.
The boats were manned with rowers, reserves and what Allan called soldiers. Eva with bow and arrows, Robert with that bat of his, Jacek, the big knifethrower with selected knives, and so on. Also in the boats were lots of food, blankets, first aid things and hot soup in the thermos. Two small boats trailed in ropes after the bigger ones.
"We can manage with only three boats here," Mary said. "Just hurry up. The sun will set at 7 tonight. We'll keep a small fire going from before sunset and until after dawn," she added. "But I sure hope to see yo before then."
"Almost seven hours," Tom said. "We should be back before nightfall."

***

Words for Wednesday - Mary and Allan revisited - 7

The story of the people from the Wieliczka salt mine continued.

Words:
Wardrobe
Silhouette
Sergeant
Dispensation

Placebo
Displeasure
Sympathy
Discretion

Used here: Discretion.

That evening Tom, and thus Francesco were kitchen slaves. They peeled potatoes, grated carrots, carried water to the tables and did the dishes, twice, and then put everything away together with the other whose turn it was. "You do everything?" Francesco asked.
"Yes," Tom said. "We're compulsively sharing as I said. Nothing should be a secret. I can plot a course. What if I fall ill, or meet an accident. I teach everyone wanting to learn, and also most not wanting to. Mona teaches farming and plant lore, Sarah and Fred are our medicine men, they teach that, assisted by Pete, who was a health freak. And so on. Tomorrow you join classes with me, as today was my - and your - work day."

"Tomorrow we go on to Goslar, and then south," Tom said that evening as they once again sat in the plane. "The inspection of the plane today showed everything OK, but the added weight of the Wieliczkans are stressing the outriggers and the caulking."
"We should all go to the floating village, then," Danuta said.
"Nope," Ben said. "It is also feeling the strain. Maybe even more so than the plane. We have been sailing for much longer than we counted on when we set out. Next time we see a gently sloping mountain, I suggest pulling in there and making some repairs."
"For how long do you reckon the village will hold together?"
"A week at most. With some repairs, at least double that time."
"I was a building man too," the big man from Wieliczka said. "I can help inspecting tomorrow."
"Why did you not say so today?" Ben said.
"Now everybody raise and present yourself. Name, former occupation, hobbies, living family members. All you think could be of relevance for our survival," Allan said. "As Tom here has said several times, we are compulsively sharing."
"They all did as suggested, and several of the Wieliczkans were miners, farmers, stonemasons, dressmakers, or had practical hobbies. They looked to turn into an asset much like Mary hoped.

***

The next morning after chores were done and the plane and village once again deemed seaworthy, Tom and Francesco went off to the most solid hut of the floating village. This was where their education were going on to distribute the load of passengers.
Francesco protested Tom's choice of educational subject, and was put together with father Paul, in a group of mixed origin, discussing mining, smelting, smithing and metals.
"We can't do much practical smithing while sailing, but we can talk," A stocky wielickan said. When we land, we can mine. We can dig for metals."
The discussion turned to fires, scarcity of wood, and shovels and lots of other subjects. Francesco was very quiet, listening, not talking but for an occasional grunt or nod.
In the end Bengt, the Swede, lost patience with him. "You just sit there, grunting. Yesterday you said next to nothing when we told who we were and so on. How much do you know of mining and such? Why don't you speak up?"
"Discretion is not one of your biggest virtues, Bengt," father Paul said with a frown. "But now the cat is out of the bag." He turned to Francesco: "How do you say? Do you want to share, or ...?"
"Padre," Francesco said. "Can I talk to you alone, away from everybody?"
"Of course you can, Francesco. We can use one of the smaller boats." father Paul said. "May we be excused?"

Father Paul and Francesco climbed into the boat, and father Paul asked Francesco to row to what he found a suitable distance.
"I am in an awful situation, father." Francesco said. "I have seen and heard much good here, but I still believe that no matter what I do, people will be wary of me for a long time to come. The people from the mine have surely told everybody who wanted to know about how I helped Strega gain her power and how I was cruel to everybody not heeding her every word. Even in the end, when she showed herself as a selfish fraud, I stood behind her. All the way. I was stupid, naive even, to believe her promises of a golden future and wild orgies and .. everything a healthy person could ever dream of. But that's the exact thing ... you would not understand!" Francesco's voice turned into a whine and he rose, pulling one of the big kitchen knifes from somewhere in his clothes. "You're a sissy, an empty excuse for a man, you play it big ... You pamper to peoples' feelings of unrest and despair. You thrive upon their "sins", their lust and passions!" Francesco's voice sunk to a shrill whisper.
Father Paul bend his head and started praying in a very low voice. He was not afraid of death, but he felt stupid for having let Francesco overcome him so easily. He mumbled the words of Jesus on the cross: "Father, forgive him, for he knows not what he does!" He felt more than saw the knife descending, and simultaneously he heard a strange twanging, singing noise and Francesco collapsed over him. The big knife fell rattling to the bottom of the boat. Father Paul raised his head and looked around. All decks, windows, doors and opening were filled with faces looking at him, big-eyed and white in the sunlight. In the door of the plane Eva stood, bow in hand and a row of arrows planted in front of her.
Father Paul lifted Francesco down from his back and placed him in the boat. The arrow had gone into the small of his back. probably piercing a lung. Francesco's breathing was laboured, a trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth.
"I forgive you!" Father Paul said simply, tracing the sign of the cross over the dying man. Francesco raised his head, tried to focus, and slowly his hand crept to his forehead, then down, then from shoulder to shoulder, and fell limply to the side. Father Paul hid his face in his hands, crying or praying, or both.
After a short while, he grasped the oars and rowed back to the floating village.

"You never told that you hunted with bow and arrow," Father Paul said to Eva as she too reached the floating village.
"No it was not relevant," Eva answered, still shaking with the reaction. "Until yesterday we had no weapon of any kind, and for that matter no game to hunt for. I hope we never will have either!" she said miserably and sat down, hiding her face with one hand.
"Thank you for saving my life," father Paul said. "It might not be the best possible thing to say," he said shaking his head, "but I need to say it."
"And I need to hear it," Eva said in a very subdued voice. "I was so afraid, afraid of hurting you, afraid of missing, afraid of killing him, afraid I was doing the wrong thing, but also afraid of not doing anything," she said and began crying in earnest.
Robert ran to her and put an arm around her shaking shoulders: "You did the right thing, Eva, He was a bad egg, and he was about to kill father Paul," Robert said his voice breaking as well. "We need him, we need you."
"We might even have needed Francesco too," Mary said. "But you did what had to be done, and you were the only one able to do it." Mary pulled a big knife from her skirt. "I was about to swim out there with this one," she said, sounding disgusted with her inadequacy.
"And I went looking for that infamous bat of mine," Robert admitted. "Where did you hide it, Padre?" he said, looking at Father Paul.
The big man from the mine, who was still wearing Allan's shirt, placed two largish knives on the table: "I was about to throw these at him. I worked in a circus as a knife-thrower once."
Father Paul shook his head. "I thought we were a peaceful and reasonable crew here," he said. Once again his mental balance had been restored, "But we seem a rather bloodthirsty bunch."
"When our priest is in danger ..." Tom said and extended the bat towards Robert. "Here it is," he said with a bow.
"Let's put all these tools of death back where they belong, and then give Francesco a decent burial," Father Paul said.

Here ends this part of the story. The adventure in Goslar is awaiting suitable words.

Words for Wednesday - Mary and Allan revisited - 6

The story of the people from the Wieliczka salt mine continued - every evening beween 9 and 10 pm.

Words:
Wardrobe
Silhouette
Sergeant
Dispensation

Placebo
Displeasure
Sympathy
Discretion

Used here: Sympathy.

  Next day they turned east instead of west a couple of hours after dawn. The village again manned with as few as possible kept at long distance from the plane. The manoeuvrability of the floating huts were not great and the incident in Wieliczka had taught them even more caution. Almost everyone were distributed in the boats to keep the time for changing of oarsmen at a minimum. The smallest boat taxied to and fro between plane, the pulling boats ant the village bringing snacks, tea, cold water, even lunch so that progress could be as fast as possible. True to his words Tom manned an oar in one of the rowing boats, and had Francesco take the other at his side. Francecso was rather fit for a Wieliczkan, but he was soon sweating and groaning softly, favouring his left hand in the strokes. After an hour Tom had pity with him and called for replacement. Hank and Mona at the next pair of oars kept on rowing but Robert and Cordelia took the oars from Tom and Francesco.
  "Now undress," Tom said. "It's time for a swim."
  "What!" Francesco said. "Swim!" I''m exhausted, I'm hungry and hurting all over."
  "Yes," Tom said, "and your hands are filled with blisters. We need limbering and a washing off. you did not wash yesterday. Get in!"
  Francesco understood that Tom meant it, and were not going to relent. Still tied to one another, but by a long rope they swam in only underwear. Then they hung in a rope washing and splashing in the lukewarm waters.
  "Mary made this soap," Tom said. "Soon we'll have no more until she figures out how to make more. Now wash your shirt and trousers. You'll have to borrow some of Hank's while they dry."
  Francesco scrubbed and scrubbed, wincing as the coarse fabric raised even more blisters on his sore hands and the soap got into them. Finally they were clean and together they wrung the pants. Inside the plane the clothes were hung on a line in the tail end of the plane, and Hank came with towels for both and some clothes for Francesco. They dressed and until lunch Tom planned the course and checked the plane with Francesco either sitting on a chair nearby or trailing after. He ate a normal ration for lunch, and emptied three mugs of hot, sweet tea in a very short time.
  After lunch work began anew. Tom rowed one of the small boats with Mona to the floating village. There they put stakes to the runner beans and watered the sunflowers and the flax. "They need to be planted in something bigger," Mona said, "But everywhere plants are growing. We need land."
  "Yes we need land. We also need more people. One more week. Then we settle," Tom said, he felt cramped, same as the plants, but sympathy with plants and people alike did nothing to change the need for more people, which Mary's words had instilled inside their brains.
  "One more week," Mona said. "I just hope we find someone in that place or in Goslar."

  When the sun was at its highest Tom measured the height with the sextant and compared to the map. "We should be there in less than an hour," he announced. "Everybody keep a lookout for anything at all!"
  Once again the rowers and lead line throwers changed places. Francesco had the lead line in Tom's boat with Tom, Hank, Mona and Robert rowing. Danuta stood in Tom's boat and Thomas and Lech in the other, where Allan sat with the megaphone in the stern.
  All clear the two lead liners called in a monotone rhythm. And then "Bottom here" from first Allison in the other big boat and then from Francesco in Tom's boat. It got more and more shallow and then deeper again.
  "That was the mine, I suppose," Tom said. "We found something like it in Wieliczka."
  "Yes all the non-salt, dug out from the mine made a mound outside," Francesco said.
  Danuta added: "Yes, that's true. And the hill in Bochnia was larger, more not-salt down there I think, and that mine actually older."
   "But not a trace of people here," Hank said. "Where would they have gone?"
  "We could not know. The Tatry are not visible from here, They go a bit south, and we are more to the north. Not much, but enough," Danuta said.
  "We need not go any further," Francesco said sounding both sad and disgusted.
  Tom stood up and saw what Francesco had seen. A row of bodies, kept together by a rope lay in the water, gently swaying as so many strange boats.
  "Let's  get away from here!" Sarah called from the other boat. "If some disease got them they could still contaminate us"
  "Turn left," she said, and all rowers to the right stopped rowing, lifting their oars. The boats and the plane swung in a wide arc, clearing the connected bodies by only a few metres."Keep rowing," Sarah called, and they all did. The lookout crews sat down and the plane sped on to the west, away from the grisly scene. Allan alerted the village by means of the megaphone, and they too swung left.

Words for Wednesday - Mary and Allan revisited - 5

The story of the people from the Wieliczka salt mine continued.

Words:
Wardrobe
Silhouette
Sergeant
Dispensation

Placebo
Displeasure
Sympathy
Discretion

Used here: none.

The evening meal was a boisterous affair with grace said in Latin by fr. Paul, for all to understand ... or not. It was a repetition of lunch, soup and pierogi, but tasty as always. Beata had been great for making of pierogi, a task where her broken leg did not hamper her. The long man in Allan's suit, hung the lamps in the windows, his long arms making it easy for him.
Evening's story time was easy. Mary told the story of how she, Pete and their families had survived in the cellar and how they build the floating village and rescued people from cellars and dungeons. Eva, fr. Paul and Sally translating as best they could. She ended the story in the war museum: "Tomorrow Alan will tell his tale. Now it's time for sleep."
The wieliczka people were split up in smaller groups, and assigned two 'guardians' or helpers, to teach them the ropes. It was an uneasy night. The village and planes people were used to the slight movements of their vessels, but the wieliczka refuges had been on solid ground, the many noises and movements made them ill at ease. Tom and Hank slept to each side of Francesco, with a rope round their wrists bound to him. But he slept through the night, still dazed from the clubbing over the head he had received from Janne and Michael and the sedation during the stitching up of the same.

In the morning the first thing to be done after the morning chores, was the burial of Strega. She was undressed washed and a thin rope weighed bu stones tied round her middle. Father Paul sad the relevant prayers with Beata, Robert and surprisingly Francesco holding the rope consigning her to her watery grave when father Paul spoke the final Amen, echoed by most of the gathered survivors.
After a short silence, they split up in four teams. Always double up the original numbers as compared to the Wieliczkans, keeping the language groups intact and friends and family together as well. The wieliczkans could not yet row, they were given the sounding off jobs, or just sitting in the boat with their 'guardians'. Breakfast was eaten in turns as the plane did not have room for that many seated comfortably at once.

They left the mountain range, going back the way they had come as far as necessary before going west to Goslar and the German high grounds where they had decided to settle.
Tom and Hank had had a miserable day tied to Francesco, they had been unable to do much, but setting the course. Danuta, who was still subdued after yesterday's translating duties suggested a small detour to another Polish salt mine, Bochnia, Tom asked her to show him on the map, and it was indeed only a small detour. "We'll go east instead of west, when we reach the right position south-north " Tom said. "Finding more people is more important than anything."
"Why?" Danuta asked.
"You better ask Mary," Tom said. "She has a way with words, and she made us all see it her way in the beginning."
"I will," Danuta said. "I'd think the less people to share the foodstuff the better."
That evening after Allan's story of the plane flight and the ensuing events until the meeting on Møn, the word was free. Granny T rose, looking worried: "When we left Allans Dunes we had enough to eat for four months. Then we met the floating village and their supplies were abundant, putting the estimate at nearer to five or six months with slim rations. Now, in one swoop we have added half again the number of inhabitants to our number, and thus reduced the time our supplies are good for. I'm not that good at maths," Granny T said, "but subtracting the 40 days we have already been underway, and then divide by three and multiply by two ... that means we'll run out of edibles in 2 and a half months and not almost 4 from today. Am I right?"
"Yes your maths are sound," Pete said seconded by Jill, "but," Pete continued, "we have sailed faster than we estimated, the rains have almost stopped and more people mean more speed. When they get their muscles back."
"Which also mean to feed them better," Granny T said, managing to smile despite her worried looks. "More proteins, more fats. We're going to live on beans and cabbage for some days now."
"Listen to her," Robert said, "You've better start training tomorrow to keep on the good side of Granny T here."
Fred and Sarah looked at one another, Fred rose: "Not tomorrow, nor the day after. You were all malnourished and we need your metabolism to normalise before you begin training. Walk or swim slowly a lot, don't sit too much. Drink lots of water and sweet tea." He turned to Granny T: "We won't run out of sugar anytime soon, I hope."
"No," she said shaking her head. "We'll do. If they need it, they'll have it!"

"And still, knowing these numbers, you agreed to sailing to Bochnia to look for even more people?" Danuta said and turned to Mary. "Mary, Tom said you could explain this better than him, please do!"
Mary rose, a bit red in the face. "Long ago. The evening we had all met on the white cliffs of Møn, we had a discussion of where to go and what to do. We all agreed in going south for longer summers and warmer climate, but when it came to how to build our community, we disagreed. I then, as now, speak for a close network of small villages, say ten families to each in a circle around a "town". Town here not necessarily being bigger, but with a church," she bowed in fr. Paul's direction, "a school for higher learning, and advanced industry. I know, we all know if we stop to think about it, that mankind is nothing special if we remove the language, the ability to pass on knowledge." She estoppel to let this sink in and giving the translators a chance to catch up, and many wieliczkans nodded, looking thoughtful. Mary continued when everybody looked at her again, making her feel fidgety: "I then told a story of some refugees I taught. Their grandparents were smart ones, businessmen, politicians, skilled artisans and so on. Well read, speaking several languages. Then came the war. Their parents were still civilized, good people, but not as well educated as their parents ..."
"Education is not everything," one of the wieliczkans interrupted.
"No it's not, and that's not my point either. Bear with me for a short while longer. But the children, who had been born during the war, spent their first 10 up to 14 years in the war zone, fighting for survival, on the run, hiding, scavenging. and so on ... they were different. They had come to Denmark, they went to school, learned Danish maths and so on. Most of them had good notes, were able to go on in the school system. But they lacked something. I arranged a trip to the forest. Many of those teens did not want to come. As I asked them why not, they were afraid of dangerous animals in the woods. At first I smiled, and told them that vipers, wasps and ticks were the worst they would meet. But I was met with similar incidents too often, lack of basic knowledge, lack of trust, lack of ... you might call it common sense and curiosity. Children need time to learn, to play, to be bored even. And they won't have that if we do not have a surplus of manpower. If we're not enough to get over critical mass. And no, I do not know how many is critical mass. That's why we're zig-zagging our way through Europe, looking for people in likely and unlikely places. That's why Tom did not hesitate to go on a wild goose chase for Bochnia tomorrow. None of us would hesitate."
Hetty brought the evening tea, today only tea, no cakes, It was drunk in an unusual silence. The wieliczkans were quiet, and the plane and village people knew better than to intrude.
Surprisingly Francesco broke the silence. "I have been suspicious ever since we met," he said by way of introduction, in heavily accented English. "I have been looking for your hidden agenda, for the barb beneath your cute words, your kindness and trusting behaviour. I saw Hank putting away the bow and the crate of arrows, but hanging the key in plain view. I have seen your kitchen, your food stash. I have seen your planting facilities. You have been open, to naivety, maybe over. I could not understand. I'm still not sure I understand."
"We are compulsively sharing," Tom said laughing. "Mary has taught us well."
"And still you do not trust me. I do understand. I'm not a very trustworthy person. And I am a thing that hinders your going forth - I miss a word?"
"A drag on us?" Tom supplied. "Yes you are, and a sourly one at that," he smiled to lessen the impact of his words.
"I thought you had had an easy life after the desastro. But I see your struggle at the Allan Dunes. your knowing what had happened. Your aloneness. Yet I still not trust."
"You will work tomorrow." "Tom said. Tomorrow we go people hunting in Bochnia and you're rowing alongside me."
That ended the meeting. But the night brought many whispered conversations and telling of stories.

Words for Wednesday - Mary and Allan revisited - 4

The story of the people from the Wieliczka salt mine continued.

Words:
Wardrobe
Silhouette
Sergeant
Dispensation

Placebo
Displeasure
Sympathy
Discretion

Used here: Wardrobe.

When the thirst for coffee had been somewhat slaked, Tom arose. "Time for a tale," he said. "I'll try to make it clear and slow for anyone to follow and to make it easy on the translators. Do not hesitate to stop or interrupt me, but please raise your hand to do so." He looked around and people nodded and grunted in agreement. Tom continued: "When the Wave hit, two groups of tourists were in the Wieliczka salt mine, one Polish-speaking group led by the guides Danuta, Tomasz and Lech; one English/Italian group led by Dana, Strega and Bob.
   Dana and Bob both died in a cave in some days after the wave as did 5 tourists. This means that four guides and 35 tourists made it out of the mine. As they found their way to the surface, the rains had already begun, and they began the trek to the Tatry - that's those mountains here. They did not have much in the way of edibles, as the cafeteria in Wieliczka was above ground and all luggage, except from very small backpacks were disencouraged in the mines. They hoped to find some wild animals in the mountains, as they supposed the disaster was only local. There's an atomic plant somewhere north of Krakow - or was, and they suspected that one to have blown up. Going south, to the mountains and the tourist towns there, seemed the logical solution. But as they reached the mountain range and all towns were nothing but brown dust they lost their courage. Without food, without anything but a crate of arrows and Strega's bow they were going to starve before help would ever get to them. A group went back to the mine and collected all they could find, but they were a long time returning. The mine was partially filled up with water and more cave ins made it dangerous there. On their return, Strega had taken leadership of the groups and kept them alive, doling out meagre rations of the collected food stuff. They had found the cave, then high up in the mountains, and settled there. Strega keeping the flock in tight reins with a mixture of threats and promises. Later Strega was discovered stuffing her head during the night, when she watched over the suitcase and its contents. Slowly they all became undernourished, famished even and only Strega and Francesco had the energy to keep on going. When they were too weak to do much, and Strega had gone mad at some point and forbade them to leave the cave, some, led by Beata planned a rebellion, but Strega had the bow, and her mesmerising personality. She bribed Francesco with promises of sex and food to be her strong man, the rebellion petered out. Some days later she saw our plane and hatched a plan of luring us into the narrows between the two mountains and steal all our possessions, killing us off or taking us prisoners. When this misfired on behalf of our caution, they tried to talk Strega into surrender, but she said no. When our food smells reached them, Beata sneaked upon her, using that distraction and clubbed Strega over the head. And that broke her hold on the group. Only Francesco tried to revenge her," Tom ended the tale.

  Danuta spoke: "What we do to Francesco now? And what to us all? We have very little clothes, no food, no nothing. What happen?"
  Tom said: "All who wants to stay and to work together with us are welcome to stay. We promise nothing but hard work and a chance of survival. All here work, all do their part. You row a boat, you tend the greens, you feed the mice, you wash, repair, study languages, mathematics, anything ... and teach what you know. Those are the conditions." Eva, fr. Paul and Sally translated to 'their' language groups. The wieliczkans mostly nodded, some said yes, some were too confused or shocked to think straight.
  Tom rose again: "Francesco is a problem. If we can trust him, he can stay. If not, he poses a danger to all of us. To survival even. We cannot keep him tied up, or sedated. We could leave him in the cave, but that would be an inhuman solution. How say you? Can he be trusted, or will he try something again?"
  "Let me talk to him when he wakens," Fr. Paul said. "I am still a priest. We can hope this means something to him."

  Beata was the first to awaken, she was given food and briefed by Danuta and Tomasz, her co-guide. Beata listened and then spoke quickly to them, looking embarrassed, anxious and uncomfortable. Danuta looked up. "She says she would want very much to join, but she will be of no help for long time, leg broken and her pregnant too. And she awfully sad for having killed a person, even Strega. She asks to be put into cave and abandoned." Danuta said, tears welling from her eyes. "She thinks she is bad person." Eva was listening as well, on the look out for sour notes and further information, but found nothing. Beata, who had been unconscious during much of the recounting of the happenings, and furthermore not close enough to the Polish group to have overheard what they said, gave once again the same story, only this time from a dissident's point of view.
  "I think we have a cure for 'bad person'." Robert said. He was the one bringing round the food baskets with Lisa, his fiancée. "Father Paul, come over here. You're the expert on bad persons, aren't you?"
  "As long as Sarah and Fred have worked their magic on that leg, I can try and mend the bad person," father Paul said with a reassuring smile. "But I'll need some peace and quiet. Not a highway as here."
  "You can use the kitchen nook, if that's fine with you," Granny T offered. Robert carried Beata into the nook and fr. Paul and Danuta went in too and closed the door. Some times later fr. Paul came out, rummaged in his chest and brought forth a purple stole, which he kissed before placing it around his neck, and his breviary. After even more time he and Danuta left the kitchen nook together, leaving Beata alone for a spell out there.
  In the meantime Hank and Tom had written everybody's names in the logbook, and had them put their signature next to it as a way of keeping them to their promises. When they had signed the ledger, they were freed from their ropes and set to work on washing and mending their clothes. Most of the wieliczkans did not have any spare clothes, and what they had were much in need of washing and mending. The rest of the afternoon the original survivors searched in their wardrobes for spare clothes that fit them. Most of them also bathed and washed thoroughly and looked much better in the evening. Much language learning also happened, Polish, Italian and German words for clothing flew through the air to be replaced with the English equivalent. Allan, Mary and the rest of the crew from the floating village came aboard and was told of the day's happenings. Allan dug up what Polish he remembered and helped a big man find fitting clothes from his own suitcase. Only Francesco did not partake in the general happy mess. He half sat, half lay, still tied to a plane seat, looking dour and angry.
  "He's having a bad attack of the envy," Fr. Paul explained to Allan, Mary and their children. "He thinks we have had it too easy. He won't accept our help, 'charity' he calls it, and wants to fend for himself. Also I'm not certain he would not try to kill Tom, whom he sees as our leader, or all of us for that matter, and take over the plane. He needs to hear - and understand, really understand Mary's talk on interdependence. He's one tough nut, and I'm not sure we can crack him in time to do any good."

Words for Wednesday - Mary and Allan revisited - 3

The story of the people from the Wieliczka salt mine continued.

Words:
Wardrobe
Silhouette
Sergeant
Dispensation

Placebo
Displeasure
Sympathy
Discretion

Used here: None.

  Aboard the plane Granny T served the wieliczkan people mugs of hot soup and pierogi with meat and chopped vegetables. They were all tied to a seat and George, Pete and some of the men from the plane stood at intervals armed with clubs and spears. They felt melodramatic, but necessity taught them to look tough. Slowly the plane filled. Ravenous mine and mountain people were dried, tied and fed, and Fr. Paul began talking to one of them.

  Outside the trickle of refugees left off. Allan and his boat reached the right mountain from the side away from land and mountains. they looked up, the mountain was empty, no crevices or big rocks could be seen. They sailed along the bottom of the mountain and found a trail of blood leading down to the water's edge. They inched closer. Someone called from the other mountain, and Allan bade the others be on the look out while he put the binoculars to his eyes and looked at the yelling man. The man on the other mountaintop pointed to a point further along and made a chopping movement over his throat. Then he pointed higher, further on and held his hands in an attitude of prayer. Allan understood: "The dead one is a bit further along, and even further we will find the assailant in need of help. You still use all your ears and eyes, please. They followed the base of the mountain and sure enough., A woman lay in the water. No doubt that she was dead. A big hole in her head was still slowly oozing blood, and her face was under water. They gave her a wide berth. Another bit further along a bleeding, but still breathing woman lay in the water. One of her legs lay in an awkward angle, surely broken, wounds on arms and upper body spoke of her ungentle descent from the mountaintop.
  Allan spoke to her: "We're here to help you. Do you understand?"
  "Elp, Pomoc!" the woman said and fainted.
  "Get her in," Allan said and Susan and Janne, the young women, they had found in the fort, pulled her aboard, as gently as possible. All the rest of the crew were still at the lookout.
  "The bow," Allan said. "I wonder where it is?"
  "Still on the lady over there?" Michael, the boy from the fort guessed. They turned the boat and rowed back to the dead leader. She was dressed in black robes, many layers flowing and trailing from her body. Michael grasped her dress and pulled her to the railing. He tied her to it with a rope and then searched her. "Nope, no bow. Leave me here. I'll search this mountaintop for it."
  "I don't like it," Allan said.
  "Why not. I'm young and strong, not like these half starved ghosts here. Give me a club and I'll be able to hold my own against any of them."
  Jane spoke up: "I go with him. I'm used to fighting, and all the rowing has made me strong."
  "Two is better," Allan said. "But please, please be careful. Run away and swim - you're good at that too, luckily - at the least sign of danger. Promise?"
  "Promise," the two repeated and got off the boat.

  Quickly they rowed back to the plane and handed the wounded woman over to the crew aboard the plane. The dead leader was tied to one of the ropes hanging from the plane and they quickly went back for Janne and Michael. Tom was not happy with what they had done, but understood the need. "You can bring the clothes and weaponry back And anything else you find. Search the mountains and the land behind it. I'll send another boat your way soon. We have almost all aboard now."

  It was not far and Allan and his crew rowed as if their life depended on their speed. Nothing untoward had happened, and Janne and Micael stood on the mountainside, carrying a bow, a bag and some clothing, When they pulled close, they saw that both Michael and Janne had cuts and bruises on arms and legs, and a man lay, bound and bandaged in a crevice nearby. A big box stood on another boulder.
  "Arrows," Janne said pointing to the box. "You have a tale to tell," Alan said, "but it's got to wait."
  They loaded the cargo and the wounded prisoner in the boat and Janne and Michael climbed aboard. They told that the man had lain behind a boulder waiting for them, but they were young, well fed and quick of mind and limb, so he had the worst of it. The bruises came from a fall, not from the fight with the man at all.
  On the other mountaintop they gathered the clothes, a sorry, smelly bundle and Janne volunteered to search the top. Susan went with her and the boat waited until they returned with empty hands.
Meanwhile the other big boat had reached them and together they sailed the rest of the distance to the mountain range. A worn path led to a cave. Only broken implements, some half rotten fruits and a big, heavy iron pot were left in the cave.
  Allan put all the fruit into the pot and carried it with him. "Mary would not like me to leave anything that might grow, behind," he offered as explanation. They found a suitcase and some backpacks behind a boulder. They also found the fire, that had caught their eyes last night and the red shirt on a pole. They took all of it and carried everything down to the boats.

  Allan, Mary and Mona volunteered to stay with the floating village. Ulla, Bo and their three children also joined them, as did Minna and George with his and Jill's children, Lil'George, Janet, Gregor and baby June.
  Back in the plane Tom stood in front of the rows of seats with the tied and sated wieliczkans in front of him. "How many of you speak English?" he asked. Ten of them raised their hands. "And German, French, Italian, other languages but Polish?" Eleven more raised their hands among those a pregnant woman. Eva asked, in Polish: "How many do only speak Polish," An elderly couple, three youngish men and two timid looking girls raised their hands. "And what about those two over there?" Tom asked, pointing to the tied and bandaged, but still unconscious man who had assaulted Janne and Michael and the woman who had killed the black-clad leader.
  The man who had swum all the way to the plane answered: "The woman speaks only Polish, she's Beata. She was one of the very few who always opposed Strega, our leader, later tyrant. The man is Italian, I think. He speaks a lot of languages badly. He was the Strega's right hand."
  "Yes true that," the pregnant woman said. "I'm Bella, also Italian, but my job was to teach English literature at the university in Florence. He, Francesco, is an Italian, from somewhere North."
  "Could you please tell what happened from an end?" Tom asked her. "And if anybody has something to add, raise your hand." Eva, ask the Polish-only people the same, write down, what they say and let's compare afterwards. Anyone else speaking the relevant languages, feel free to tackle the group of people you understand."
  Father Paul said: "I'll take the Italians."
  And Sally, who had kept much in the background since the plane and the floating village met, rose and said: "I have studied German for many years, let me take that group."
  A game much like musical chairs ensued with the extra spice that all occupants of chairs had to be untied and then retied after finding a new place in their language group.
  At long last even father Paul was done with the asking and writing and the interrogators sat around a table, reading aloud, clarifying, going back to their group to ask more questions. Granny T served coffee, this helped immensely on the general well being.

Words for Wednesday - Mary and Allan revisited - 2

The story of the people from the Wieliczka salt mine continued.

Words:
Wardrobe
Silhouette
Sergeant
Dispensation

Placebo
Displeasure
Sympathy
Discretion

Used here: Silhouette.

The situation grew into a long drawn stalemate. The people on the mountaintops could sit there and throw down things and they did. But the plane and even more the village kept their distance. The younger villagers and plane crew took turns swimming circles around the vessels two and two going in opposite directions. The rain began with depressing regularity at ten and the visibility dropped. The rain was not as heavy as it had been. After all it was the 39th day of the biblical downpour. But a steady wind was blowing, making up for the lack of raindrops.
"What way is the wind blowing?" father Paul asked Tom.
"From us to them," Tom said, "but why?"
"Smell." Fr. Paul explained. Could you ask the kitchen persons to make something hot and savoury for lunch. That could very well push those mine- and mountain people over the edge."
"Good thinking!" Tom said and went into the small kitchen. Granny T and Matthew understood the proposition and promised to make a very savoury lunch with lots of enticing smells.

Meanwhile the floating village, manned with only a skeleton crew and all the children aboard under Mary's and Minna's supervision backed further off. It was hard to defend, not stable and too valuable with all the plants and goods to risk in a fight.
All able-bodied found something that could be used as a weapon, Lots of ropes were put at the ready for tying up of prisoners and Sarah and Fred Timberley readied a first aid station in the front of the plane.
"How come you speak Polish?" Allan asked.
"I don't speak it very well," Eva said. "My maiden name was Nowak. My grandfather was from Poland, and as I told yesterday, I have spent several holidays here skiing and hunting."
"Great," Tom said. "Could you please dress in something white and green. You're to be our spokesman and interpreter. Our demands are these and not up for negotiation: We offer collaboration, a share of our meagre rations and a chance at a future. In return we need their labour and collaboration."

The boats were placed strategically in the waters facing the two mountain tops. As the smells of cooking drifted to the mountains, voices and noise could be heard. Eva stood in the boat nearest to the mountains, but could not catch but a single word here and there.
From the right mountain top, the one from which a single No! had been heard yesterday, an arrow came flying through the air. Eva jumped, and the arrow struck the railing instead of her legs. They prudently backed off some more. "Arrows!" Tom said. "That's a weapon to be weary of. Can you tell them that if they keep shooting we'll just leave?"
"Yes," Eva said and called out in Polish. The megaphone amplifying her words, making them roll between the mountains.
More tumultuous sounds could be heard from the hills, but no answer. They waited. Matthew and Granny T appeared in the plane door with baskets of food. One of the small boats rowed up and got the baskets, then they sailed round, distributing the food. Then two things happened simultaneously. The rain stopped and from the left mountaintop a young woman jumped into the water and came swimming towards the boats. Arrows from the right mountain top hit the water around her, forcing her into a zig-zag path. She was slow. And the power in her strokes became more and more feeble. She called out and began sinking. "She called for help." Eva said.
Hank rose and grabbed a rope. "Let me get her." he said and jumped in.
Arrows still hit the water, but fewer and farther between. "The bowman must realise that he's wasting his arrows," Eva said.
Hank reached the drowning lady and grabbed her dress. He tied the rope around her and turned her so that her head was clear of the water. James and John pulled mightily at the rope and slowly the lady was pulled to the boat. There was no reason to undress her, the wet dress clung to her emaciated body, hiding nothing. "Bring her aboard the plane and let our doctors look at her," Hank said to Robert, who rowed the food carrying small boat.

A commotion on top of the rightmost hill caught their eyes. A silhouette of a standing person could be seen against the mountainous backdrop, a thing rose in the air and with a yell the standing person slipped and fell down the side of the mountain. Allan, who had been watching the goings on through the binoculars yelled from the other boat: "Someone sneaked up behind the bowman and clubbed him over the head. The swing made him loose his balance, and they both fell into the water. Should we get closer?"
"Yes, But take care. First sight of trouble, you leave," Tom said. A yell in Polish was heard from the left mountaintop. Eva listened and translated: "They say: Their leader is down in the water, fighting another man. They ask for help. The leader is a bad .. a bad lady, I think, or a bad witch. They hope she's drowning." Eva shook her head and spoke in the megaphone in Polish. "I told them to surrender to us. If they say yes, what then?"
"Ask them to go down to the waters edge. Throw all weapons in the small boat, or on the mountainside. Strip down to underwear and swim here one or two at a time. We'll get them."

A loud voice rose in Polish from the right hilltop. "We have annulled the evil leader," Eva translated. "We wish to join you. She is dead."
Eva raised the megaphone once again and Tom could see the people going down and placing sticks and stones and makeshift clubs and weaponry on an outcropping boulder near the water. Then one after another they undressed and swam towards the other small boat rowed by Mona and Allison. Ben and Bengt stood over them brandishing hefty sticks.
"Ask them to go slowly," Tom said. "Only two at a time into the water. We won't be swarmed." And Eva conveyed his orders. The milling people on the shore seemed to understand, but many still undressed and was more than eager to get into the water. Soon the boat returned with two shivering people aboard. "We speak English!" A man yelled as soon as he was within hailing distance. "Fine. Can you swim on?" the man nodded, uncertain. And Tom continued: "Fine, swim to the plane. How many of you are there?"
"I don't know any longer," the man answered. "We were 40 to begin with, and 6 guides. But some have died. We're starving."

Words for Wednesday - Mary and Allan revisited - 1

This Wednesday the words are over at WiseWebWoman's blog. As I threatened to do, I cleaned the slates of February's unused words and now start anew with:

Wardrobe
Silhouette
Sergeant
Dispensation
  The photo and
Placebo
Displeasure
Sympathy
Discretion

And I used 1 (one!) word in this part of the story, Displeasure. More is to follow, but it is long enough for many days. I do not know why I have a tendency to write such long tales from some of the words. It just happens. I hope you enjoy reading, and as always please correct my English!

Remember to go back, read other peoples' stories there or follow their links back. And please place a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction.

Back in January 2020, I wrote a long story about Allan, Mary and the end of the World. It had a spin-off in June about Fr. Paul, but in between these two parts a lot happened. All the chapters can be read in one long go by choosing the tab "Mary & Allan" in the top of this blog.
Here's a bit of what happened to Mary, Allan and their co-survivors after we left them on the white cliffs of Møn.

Next day the discussion continued.
It turned to ways and means of finding more people.
"The plane is visible day and night. This is good, but should we search? and if yes, then where?" Tom asked.
"Yes we should," Mary said. "The more people, the better we're off in the long run."
"But we risk depleting our foodstuff if we find many," Granny T protested.
"Numbers, skills etc. are more important. We will survive. The green stuff is already growing both in the floating garden and aboard the plane. It won't be long before we can harvest the first crops. Besides we still don't have anybody with real, old fashioned farming skills!"
"My question still stands," Tom. "Where to look."
"Where?" Allan said. "Underground, mines and such. Everybody except for us plane-people survived underground. And we cannot guess where planes will have landed, but mines have to stay where they are."
"And now we know where we are," Tom said, "maps and equipment in the plane will be of big help. I can still plot a course by hand and use a compass and the other non-electrical equipment of the plane."
"And we can learn," Mary added.
"Wieliczka," Eva said.
"Say what?" Tom said
"Wieliczka," Eva repeated. "It's  a salt mine in Poland. Not in use, but a museum. It's fantastic, caves, even a church carved in salt-stones of different colours. I bet it was filled with visitors when the wave hit! I went skiing in the Tatry-mountains near there more than once."
"And Goslar, Germany. There's one like it, only not salt, iron or some such ore. That one is even closer," James, the actor, said.
"Show me those places on the map," Tom said rolling out a big, old map of northern Europe on a table.
Eva and James showed him where. and Tom bade Robert and Eva come and help him do the maths. They drew two tentative courses, one Goslar - Wieliczka, one the other way round.
"Let's end up in Goslar," Allan said. "The Tartrys for all their immense beauty was not renowned for their fertile grounds."
That motion was shared by most of the collected group.  Mona agreed, and her opinion counted, as she was the only farmer at hand. "We have to go south," she said. "And from Wieliczka that means mountains, a hazardous thing to brave, but going back west and a bit north from there to Goslar will of course set us somewhat back, but the lessening hazards from partly underwater mountain ranges should more than make up for this."
"I agree," Tom said with marked displeasure. "The plane is amazingly seaworthy what with the outriggers and so on. But jagged mountaintops would not be good."

***

The next morning they left the white cliffs of Møn and set the course due east. The life went on much as it used to, the settled routine of the two communities intermingling almost seamlessly. The most visible differences were by lanterns on the floating village by night and masts and pennants on the plane by day. Learning and teaching took place all over, in the open spaces of the floating village, when the weather was fine, inside the huts and on board the plane when it rained, as it did most of the time still. All took turns rowing, and everybody was swimming or taught how to by the two young doctors and Father Paul. They had to keep fit.
One evening Tom said: "Tomorrow we have to go slowly. I need to know exactly how far east we have come so as to hit the rivermouth as shown in the course diagrams. All who wants to, can have a go at the sextant. But I want the 12 noon spot!"
"Aye, aye captain." Robert said standing at attention.

"Yes, Tom said after reading the Sun, conferring with the charts, and as many as wanted to try and understand course plotting, "now we go South. We have to hit the river complexes leading to the mine," he said, pointing to Oder on the map, and following it and Weichsle and Dunajec to Wieliczka. "The rivers go right through the cities of Stettin, Wroclaw, Kattovice and Kracow down to the salt mine here. Of course the cities are not there any more, but the land will still be level  as opposed to outside the watercourses.
After a few days going south, people armed with stakes were once again at their places in the hauling boats and every day they stopped at a quarter to noon to let Tom do his magic. Many of the others tried their hand at it, and became quite adept at knowing just where they were.

They worked their way slowly south and east, keeping over the old waterways.  It still rained every day. Mornings and evenings were mostly clear, the downpour beginning at around ten and going steadily until six or seven in the evening. Ben made some lead lines for the staking of the depth, this was easier, faster and less dangerous than the poles, giving longer reach and less risk of falling overboard. Still they found no ground below.

They turned more towards east and next day mountains slowly grew up from the waters south and east of them. "The Tatrys," Eva said with a satisfied expression.
"Yes? Do you recognise them? Mountains should not be bothered overmuch by the wave," Allan said.
"I'm not sure, but that one could be 'Silvertop'," Eva said. "The mine should be a little closer to the mountains, away from the river," they agreed

They rowed slowly, testing the depths, this close to the mountains they saw no need in running unnecessary risks. 
Robert yelled: "Something down here. Stop!" And the back up crew hurried to the small boats behind the plane and rowed the other way. This of course stopped the plane, and the floating village was alerted and also came to a halt.
"What is down there, and how far?" Tom asked. They freed the life boat, and slowly rowed back and forth, testing the depth. "Here," Robert yelled. "Almost at the end of the rope ... far down. and only here. Slowly forwards, please," he asked, and the rowers rowed carefully forwards. Robert threw the line again and again, but nowhere else did it reach anything. "Maybe an immersed mountaintop?" Robert mused.
"I think not", Tom said "The mountains rise fairly suddenly here." Eva nodded.
"It could very well be some mine-related thing," Tom said. "It should be here, very near. Let's row the boat closer to the mountain range. If somebody survived somewhere underground they'll have to have come out, and the mountains would be the logical place to go."
"Should we risk a boat?" Cordelia asked. "Should we not stick together?"
"I think you're right Cordelia," Robert said. "No use risking anything. They might be desperate if they just sit on a mountainside watching the waters rise and rise. And desperate people can be dangerous as well we know," he said with a lopsided smile.
They were extra careful throwing the lines at regular intervals. Robert gave over his post to Lisa, and she in turn was replaced by Henny.

Henny was the one who finally struck ground. "Bottom here!" she called; only to be echoed seconds later by Ben in the other boat.
Slowly they proceeded. Always nearer the mountain range with the floating village bringing up the rear. When they had to stop for the night they scanned the mountainside using binoculars, but nothing could be seen.
In the night, Robert thought he saw a light flickering far away, he woke up Tom and Hank and had them look. They marked where they had seen the flicker, for armed with binoculars they thought they caught the flicker of a fire between two mountain tops.
In the morning they steered after the fire, and proceeding with care, they sailed closer to the gap between two mountain tops, and saw the remnants of a dying fire and a flag pole with a red shirt hanging limp and damp in the murky daylight.
"Back up!"Hank yelled. "It's a trap!" The ones in the pulling boats immediately stopped rowing, backing up and then hoisting their oars while the crew in the two smaller boats behind the plane rowed for dear life, stopping, then painstakingly slowly pulled the plane backwards.

A mixture of assorted projectiles rained down over the crew in the two boats. Stones, mine struts, and various debris came down from the mountain tops. But their aim was miserable, and the throws lacked speed and precision.
Eva suddenly poked her head through the plane door and shot a string of harsh-sounding syllables at the mountains.
She was answered from above. Only one word, but understandable for the people in the boats. "Nie - no"
Eva spoke again, this time helped by the megaphone from the plane.
Another voice answered from the other mountain top. This one plaintive, longer. Back and forth the conversation went. The plane stopped well out of throwing range and all the boats gathered round the plane, where Eva told what she had found out.
"They say they do indeed come from the salt mine. They have nothing more to eat and they are armed. With what, I did not understand. Maybe pikes, maybe other strange things from the salt mine."
"Desperate," Robert nodded. "And maybe dangerous."
"We have to stay out of range of even a gun, then" Allan said, "but still within hailing distance."
One small boat sailed off to the village and they pulled closer to the plane after hearing the news.
"Theirs is the untenable situation," Hank said. "We can just leave them. Or at least they must think so. They cannot get close to us without us hearing or seeing them. But that said, we must not become careless. They are desperate, we don't know how many they are, and we have no weapons with which to defend ourselves."
"I'd say they have no weapon either," Hank said. "They have not been shooting. and everything must have been pulled over here from the mine by manpower. If that unknown thing yesterday was indeed the mine, as we suspect, they have walked quite a distance carrying stakes and stones. Maybe they have even been fighting among themselves. They must be hungry by now." 

Words for Wednesday - Father Paul's quandary

Now, in june Messymimi is posting the prompts. Today we are given:
mile
coverage
corner
throw
monarch
dump
     and/or
paragraph
reduce
gate
confine
cruel
shiver

This week Mimi is also adding the following archaic words to use or ignore:

mooncalf (a foolish person)
orts (scraps or remains)
fandangle (a useless or purely ornamental item)
 Way back in January I wrote an 'end of the world'-story, called either Mary & Allan or The Wave. The story can be read in its totality here. I have in my mind several spin off's, lose ends and so forth to this story. And today I have written out one of them. 
  To the best of my knowledge, I did not use any of the words, but I love those old fashioned ones; Fandangle, Mooncalf ... hmm just right for a "Magical me" story.
 
Father Paul's Quandary
Some years later the settlement was growing and the mouse farm was finally thriving. An expedition, looking for more people, had also found more mice in an old cave somewhere nearby. Before this happened, the mice were getting steadily more inbred, and Mona had been on the verge of killing them off when the winter's expedition returned home with their catch. All week after their homecoming of the expedition Father Paul had not been his normal, equanimous self.
  As the week ended, they held their habitual Saturday evening meeting, as every Saturday after dinner. Everybody met in the common hut. There grudges were settled, disputes ended or postponed until a solution could be found. Next day was Sunday, and a day of resting and feasting was observed as far as possible. Every Sunday Father Paul also celebrated mass for all who wanted to participate, and more and more people came for mass. Father Paul liberally spent holy communion to those wanting it, only asking that people believed that Christ was actually present in bread and wine and not being knowingly at odds with anyone, God or human alike, this was unlikely after the Saturday meeting; and father Paul himself was always available for a talk or for confession. 
   But on that Saturday evening's meeting father Paul brought himself up as a subject. "I've been thinking," he said, "what with the mice and all that other gene-pool stuff. I feel I'm somehow cheating out by not marrying and begetting children of my own." He looked round on all present. "I mean, I'm not related to anybody here, as far as I know at least, and I wonder whether I am not just being selfish for not adding my genes to the pool?"
  "Do you want to marry, Father?" Mary asked.
  "No way," father Paul answered quickly. "I neither feel alone, nor lonely. And the thought of living with a woman, getting to know her in the biblical sense and most of all: Never being able to celebrate the mysteries of Mass again, makes me go all cold inside and my stomach heavy as lead. It's not that; it is pure 'should I be allowed to deprive the gene pool of my genes' that is the question. I'm not in the least unsure of my calling."
  "And neither are we, really." Tom said. "Your being our priest, and by 'our' I mean a priest for all of us, has meant a great deal for the sanity of this settlement. 'You are a priest forever after the order of Melchisedek' Those words suit you perfectly."
  Allan rose, shyly for once. "Ever since the Wave, you have been The Priest. Our priest. Genes, gene pools and future generations' survivability is not all there is to life. Mental stability, rituals and the things that transcendent reality matter as well. I'm not a man of big words but I'll try to explain ... When someone dies, I kneel  here, in this place. ... I think I speak for many of us now ... I kneel here and I look at my hands, at Mary's hands, at the hands of all us old geezers. Big, gnarled hands, scarred, rough, made for work, made for doing. But in front of death there is no doing only silence. I want to go somewhere else, lugging stones, chopping down trees, digging ... everywhere else but here, kneeling, waiting, silent ... I feel my impotence in the presence of death. But then you are here as well, with that tiny altar of yours, with your worn paraments, and with my best Zinfandel." Allan smiled despite his seriousity. "With rituals, prayers, words as old as time itself. And then I feel, despite my despair and impotence, that I am where I need to be. Not that I feel at ease. I'd still run, given the option. But somehow some way ... there's a meaning behind all we are and do."
  "I think this was your answer." Tom said. "We are all your children. But if yo wish, we'll hold an election?" Father Paul nodded, unable to speak. "You know the drill. All go to the lectern one by one," Tom continued, "on a slip of paper you write 'Marry' or 'Priest' or a doodle if you abstain. Robert, please put up the bowl.
  Robert placed a big, lidded bowl next to the lectern and took off the lid. One by one all adult members of the community went to the lectern, took a slip of paper, wrote a word, folded it and dropped it into the bowl. Tom pointed at Astrid: "Astrid, please shake the bowl." Bothered by her arm, that never became as good as new after the accident which spared the life of her and her husband Bengt when the Wave passed, she placed the lid back over the bowl and shook it. Then she placed it on the lectern and sat down. Tom looked in his list: Mona, you're counting today. Mona went up, took off the lid and picked the slips of paper up one by one, Reading aloud, she sorted them in neat stacks in front of her:" "Priest." Mona read aloud 15 times in a row, then two Abstains then more Priests, one Marry, three more abstains, and then Priest ... Priest ... Priest ... until the bowl was empty. "I think there's no reason to count the votes," Mona said. "Father Paul, you are our priest, now and forever!"
"And now, Tom said, "As the chairman of today's meeting I declare the meeting for ended. Communal cake will be served shortly."

Mary & Allan The End 2

Words for Wednesday 22 January as given by Mark:

     Deviled                    and / or           Gargled
     Interdependence                             Presence
     Watery                                            Yelling
     Figs                                                Andalusia
     Zoom                                              Snowdrifts
     Headphones                                   Exfoliate

  Well, I decided to end this story as I had planned, and I got to use the word I needed for this final installment. 
  The word, I hoped for to get was: Interdependence.
  Here at the ending of this story, I want to thank you all for comments, encouragement and corrections. Although I have not answered all comments, I have read them all and appreciate them very much. 
   Thank you all!

  Allan rubbed his eyes, and rubbed them once more. Then he jumped up and down on the slippery surface, he slipped and al most fell, He stood still and the he yelled at the top of his lungs: "Here. We are here. Up here at the white cliffs!" He pulled off his jacket and waved it through the air. Richard came running up to him. "Look, Allan said, "I think I can see something sailing over there. He pointed landwards and to the north. "Could you run down, carefully, fetch that megaphone, and ... oh just get everybody up here and whatever they find useful.
  In an amazingly short time everybody had congregated at the northernmost end of the cliffs. Hank had brought binoculars, Tom the megaphone, Ulla held a twin in each hand, while her  husband carried the baby sister under one of their very few umbrellas. Richard had grasped a pair of father Paul's lanterns and a long branch. He tore strips of a rag, and after wetting them in the oil, he made a primitive torch by twisting them around the branch. He lit it and carefully weaved it to an fro. Tom yelled in the megaphone, and Allan still waved this jacket.
  Hank said: "What strange looking boats. It looks like huts only on rafts. It is, as far as I can see, pulled by a rowing boat of great size, manned by only four."
"Taking turns rowing, like we are, Ulla guessed. "Can you see more?" 
  "Yes. They've seen us - a person in the boat is standing up and waving with something bright and yellow. and they're getting over here."
  "That's a freaking settlement," Hank said. "Complete with floating gardens and huts. Whoever build something like that?"
  "My Mary." Allan said in a disbelieving voice.  "It would be just like her to have a garden no matter what - even the end of the world."
  As the floating village came closer still, faces could be seen tin the doorways of the huts.
All the people from the plane walked gingerly down the cliffs to the place where the settlement would land.
  Allan tapped Hank on the shoulder and asked for the binoculars, Hank handed them to him without a word. "It IS Mary!" Allan yelled: "Hello Mary! Welcome to Møn."  And then he began crying again.
 Robert plucked the binoculars from Allan's hands and began studying the settlement.

***

  They all sat inside the plane in the evening, feasting on hot coffee and only slightly dry lebkucken. "Finally lebkuchen," Allan sighed. It was time for tales.

***

  "As the water began rising," Mary continued. "we realized that we would need boats or at least one boat. It was a slim chance, but Pete and George sat out on foot. They walked to Castle Kronborg, because some of us remembered seeing bots inside the museum in the dungeons there. And they found boats, two small boats. What more is, they found people. They found Elizabeth there," Mary pointed the the smiling young woman, sitting next to and hand in hand with an incredibly happy and young looking Robert. "They had been visiting the dungeons, and hunting down those four children over there who had been lost playing tag in the big rooms down there. When they returned ... well you can all guess. They had been living off bags of candy and their lunch packages ever since, water was no problem as it steadily runs down the walls in there."
  "Nasty place." Lisa said. "We were really getting desperate, debating whether to just go out and see what would happen, when you arrived."
  "And then, in the two small boats, we crossed the Øresund, then only a bit wider than its normal 3 kilometers, and rescued Bengt and Astrid here from the dungeon in Helsingborg.
  "Oh dear," Astrid said. "We had been visiting Kärnan, the old fort in Helsingborg. As we were about to mount the stairs leading up from the dungeons, I slipped on the lover step. I think my arm is broken. Anyways, Bengt stayed with me, they promised to send help. But then an almighty roaring sound was heard, and rubble fell from the hatch. Bengt spent the next many days painstakingly pulling down rocks, stones and rubble, while I just sat, or lay half conscious from pain. When he finally reached the surface and told me about what he had seen outside, I thought that I was having a nightmare. But as no help arrived, I realized it was true. We had resigned, and as the staircase broke as  Bengt removed a really stubborn stone, we just gave up. Then we heard Pete yelling outside.  We were pulled out ... and here we are."
  Sarah and Fred took care of her arm, It was broken, and badly set. All they could do was bandaging and supporting it. "It might never be as good as new," Fred said. "But it should stop hurting at least."
  "And while the boys were out saving those precious people, the rest of us were building a floating village and planting seeds. Somewhere along the planting, we also discovered, found out might be a better word, that when it has been wet through for some time, the fluff stops itching, stops being fuffy anb begins acign like normal soil afgain.
   "Yes," Allison said. There's some organic, needle like compounds in it. They're quite interseting ... but your tale is more so, do continue."
Mary smiled and continued: "When they returned, by boat, and faster than expected, we sent them to more places with deep cellars or dungeons, but no more people were found until we, slowly and towing our village with the two small boats, came to the Fort and War museum in Stege. There we found two young girls, Susan and Janne and a boy Michael, from the fort. They had been on duty in the lower ends of the fort as the Wave passed. They lived off the cafeteria food and were about to set out in that big boat after having prepared all the edibles down there for a longish trip. Then we passed here, and the rest is history."
  The next day was spent moving crates and luggage from one place to another, It was not a question whether to bring the village or not, but how to. The small cooking hut was given over to storage of heavy crates after dumping of the slabs of glazed ground used for fireproofing.
  In the evening, Mary, Jill, Granny T and Mathew were happily cooking, comparing notes on plants and all in all felt very happy.
  After the evening meal a discussion arose. Most of the people spoke for several small, self-containing settlements spread at equal distances along the foot of the mountain range. Those not in favour, were mostly found among the older segment, and were not taken quite seriously.
  Then Mary rose from her seat next to Allan: "Now you listen to me," she said. Her eyes were shining and her cheeks had red spots. This is important: "The thing that has made humanity top notch is not our muscle power - we're a scrawny lot compared to most species. It's not our big brains either. Many species boasted bigger brains compared to size, and even smarter brains. No our asset, our sole asset, is knowledge, more specifically our ability to share and the pooling of knowledge." They all fell silent and listened. Mary drew a deep breath: "And if there's one thing I have learnt, first from the reading of books like The Day of the Triffids, and later from my voluntary working with refugees, it is how quickly knowledge is lost or deteriorates. Of course we could manage in small communities. We could stay alive and eek out an existence. Maybe. You're all young and strong, and we oldies could be spread out, teaching, taking care of the children? They would most decidedly not learn all I know, even less yet all we know all together. No way. We'd be back to the stone ages in a few generations." A stunned silence ensued, and Mary continued:
  "Take the refugees I used to teach as an example. They were neither stupid, nor unintelligent. The old ones were mostly quite erudite; doctors, technicians, engineers, most of them speaking more than one language fluently apart from their own, as was a few of the parents too. The very young ones were OK, noting special. But the teens and the young adults! Those who had spent their formative years being on the run, surviving ... So many basic skills and knowledge they did not have. I remember proposing an outing to the forest. Many of those teens did not want to come. As I asked them why not, it was because they were afraid of dangerous animals in the woods. At that time I just smiled, and told them that vipers, wasps and ticks were the worst they could come up against. But I've been thinking. They had been to school here, learned Danish, how to read and write and so on. But their basic skills, those that we assume is learned automatically as we grow? It is not the way it happens. You have to have time for learning, for playing and growing. Else you grow up an ignorant." Mary drew a deep breath and went on: "Take Robinson Crusoe. Did he survive on his own? Yes and no. He had books, he had knowledge, he even had tools. He was not alone. Now imagine him wholly alone, cut off totally from the rest of the world on that island of his - give him a wife and imagine then having children. How much would they learn? And their children's children? Learning, coping and development all stems from a surplus. If the children have to work from early age to avoid starvation, how will they ever learn?
  "But what does this mean for us?" Ben asked.
  "The answer is interdependence! This means that we'll have to stay together. And even try to find more people. Make a town, an old fashioned rural community with houses in the center, fields all around. And many small towns like this centered around an even larger one for higher education and for luxury items like soap, candy and books. This is a dream, the ideal state, I said, I don't even know if we can find enough people to get over critical mass, to have this surplus."  Mary said soberly. "So far we do not know haw many survived, or even if we will survive the coming years. But together we have a chance. Together we have hope."
  Mary sat down to a thundering applause.

  And this is where I end. 
  Maybe the Snowdrifts will make their way into a chapter of Susan's story. I have been sorely neglecting her.  And tomorrow is a new Wednesday with new words.
  But I think I'm going to have an itsy-bitsy writing break first. I have written more than 25.000 words to tell the tale of Mary and Allan.