Earth's Children
Summary: The parents of Harper tell their tale of life and love in Post-Commonwealth Earth.
Author: Luna Sealeaf
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Again, I do not own any Andromeda characters, so don't sue me, etc. Nor do I own the lyrics of the songs both parents sing. I'm not making any profit, and since my total life savings accumulates to a whopping 8 bucks, there's really no point in suing me.
Archive: It didn't occur to me before, but if anyone wants to they can. I dunno where this fic would fit in though...
Songs my mother taught me
In the days long vanish'd;
Seldom from her eyelids
Were the teardrops banish'd.
Now I teach my children
Each melodious measure;
Oft the tears are flowing;
Oft they flow from my mem'ry's treasure.
-Ancient Earth song
Episode Eleven
Six months. For six months we lived in that place. No; lived is the wrong word. We survived. There's a difference. Several times Devin and I went to the mines, as we had been told to do, just to see what it was like. It wasn't fun. I don't think the Nietzscheans even really needed the rocks we were mining; it was just something to keep us busy.
Both Brendan and Seamus were now beginning to walk, as well as to say their first words. Siobhan and Declan, escorted by myself or Devin, started going to a 'school' that was held underground. I admit to being a little impressed when I saw the chamber underground; all sorts of old artifacts, ancient and 'modern' had been collected and were used to teach the children Earth's history. I learned at there were actually three or four of these chambers, called 'The Museum' but for those first six months, none of us were eager to leave the small building we'd claimed as our home.
Summer came; with the heat, the smells of the city grew. People flocked to the far edge of the camp, where a stretch of land reached the ocean. There the wind and water helped to blow the foul stench away. Seamus had just turned two when I was stricken by a strange illness. It was not caused by germs, at least, none that I know of, and there were few physical symptoms. I don't know what to call it, but I started feeling...detached. I smiled little; even Josephine's quick wit failed to make me laugh. It's hard to explain what was happening; I just felt that, in general, life had lost all pleasure for me. The days were often dark and when the sun did shine it was a weak and pale light. Our family rarely gathered together except for meals, during which most of us ate in silence. While my love for Josephine hadn't gone, I found that I couldn't bear her company for too long. Something in my heart ached constantly, but I did not know what.
Sometimes I wondered if the same thing that had happened to Lughna was happening to me. And I wondered if I should worry about it. Poor Lughna; she had regained some sense, and occasionally she was back to her old self, laughing and playing with her children. And then she would ask where Liam was, and when none of us could answer, her eyes would slowly become vacant once again.
So the days and weeks passed; I grew a small beard and became recluse. Several times Josephine, my Rose, asked what was wrong. I couldn't answer, since I didn't know myself. Thankfully, my awful mood didn't last forever. One day I wandered down to the rocks by the sea. It was a gray, rainy day, so few people were by the water. Ignoring the chilly air I found a flat rock that brushed up against the dark water and I went to sit on it. For many minutes I sat there silently, staring out into the distance, remembering the first time I had seen the Atlantic, years ago. How many years? I tried to count them, but some passages of time seemed to slip from my mind. When we had left Ireland I was eighteen, and now I was...twenty-five or twenty-six. Somewhere around there. Abruptly my thoughts were interrupted when I felt someone sit behind me, casually leaning their back against mine, resting their head gently against mine.
"Hello Josephine," I said quietly, smiling to myself.
"Oh, so you do know my name. I was beginning to wonder." Came her sharp reply. Instantly I felt guilty for my bad attitude these past few months and the guilt only made me feel worse. I stood up and walked down closer to the ocean, saying as I did,
"Excuse me for being such a terrible husband." I regretted the words as soon as I uttered them, but I couldn't take them back. It was all one terrible circle I couldn't seem to escape.
"Evan, what's the matter with you? You've changed somehow, and I can't seem to bring you back," She had followed me to the shallow water, delicately stepping on the wobbly rocks. Slowly, I turned to look at her. I was surprised at how much she had changed: Her hair, once long and wavy, was cropped short, to just below her ears. Instead of the long dresses she once wore, she had knee length pants, torn at the bottom, an old tattered blouse, and a dark vest. Her beauty was still evident though; nothing could ever change that. To my surprise, I felt a surge of emotion go through me and before I knew what I was doing I had stepped towards her and swept her up into a tight hug. I felt her start to cry, and I felt as though somehow I was slowly waking up from a long, long, dream.
"I'm so sorry Rose, forgive me? I've just been afraid...and angry. I didn't know how to deal with it. I still don't. Will you help me?" I said the words softly, breathing in the scent of her. Somewhere in the sky a lonely bird was crying harshly.
"Afraid? You?" She laughed a little, leaning out of my arms so she could see my face. Impulsively I kissed her; just once.
"I'm terrified, more than you can know. Of everything, really, but mostly of losing you. Or Seamus. Or Orla, Brendan, Devin...any of them. I couldn't bear another loss."
"I'm scared too Evan," Josephine said seriously.
"I don't believe it. You're fearless, remember?" She grinned at me.
"But I am frightened. Of being alone." I was confused and she must have seen this, for she sighed and continued to explain. "I keep thinking of your mother Evan." This surprised me, I had never talked much about my parents. "If she's still alive, she has no one. Her two eldest children were taken from her. She recovered, thanks to you, Liam, and Orla, as well as her husband. But what happened when all of you were taken from her? I'm the same as you Evan. I can't imagine losing you or Devin, or Siobhan and Declan..."
"What about Seamus?" I asked quietly, already knowing the answer.
"Seamus is going to be fine." Her words made me feel frustrated, at what I don't know.
"How can you be so certain?" I dropped my arms and turned towards the water.
"I just know. We may both be killed tomorrow, all of us, but I'm sure that Seamus will live. Call it a mother's intuition if you will." I laughed and embraced her once more. We spent most of the day by the water, laughing, talking, singing, and rediscovering our love for each other. It was like balm to a wound; after that, I felt a great weight slowly leave me. I felt happier than I had in months, and to celebrate I surprised everyone when I brought out my tin whistle after supper. We had a fun night of singing, while I played every tune I could think of, as well as a few I had made up.
That woman, Carla Bennet, often stopped by too. She remained the only person we knew fairly well, though Orla and Josephine had met a few men and women at the market who seemed decent. I didn't like Carla at first, but in the end of that summer she did me a great favor. Overhearing my forlorn complaint to Josephine about the old whiskey my father used to make, Carla laughed and said she knew where I could find some alcohol.
"Course, if it kills you, don't blame me." She added. I scarcely heard those words. I jumped to my feet so quickly that Seamus and Declan, who'd been climbing all over me, slid to the floor.
"Where can I get it?" I asked breathlessly. Carla shrugged.
"There's a few people at the market who sell different kinds. The best variety comes from the black market, but that's just my opinion."
"Come on Devin, we've got some shopping to do!" I said, smiling. Devin looked up from the paper he'd been reading, looking dubious about our mission.
"Haven't we got better things to do?" He asked, looking bored.
"Like what? Come on, you'll thank me later." I didn't give him a choice. In two strides I reached the spot where he was sitting and hoisted him to his feet. Josephine laughed while Orla sighed audibly.
"Evan, I don't believe you. Don't you dare go and get my husband drunk." She said accusingly. I feigned innocence.
"Orla, in our entire life, have you ever known me to get drunk?" Her carefully raised eyebrow gave me all the answer I needed.
"Ok ok, maybe when I first started drinking I got a little tipsy, but never anything serious."
"Fine, go make a fool of yourself. It matters not to me." Orla threw her hands up, a gesture she'd picked up from Josephine, and walked over to help Siobhan boil some water to drink. I glanced at Josephine to see what she thought of all this, but she was holding Seamus and looking amused.
"Evan, I'm not so sure about this..."
"Devin?"
"What?"
"Shut up and let's go."
I dragged him out the door and we walked through the streets to the tunnels. So that night Devin tasted his first glass of liquor. Or at least, that's what the man who sold it to us called it. I didn't care; the smell made me recall my days in Ireland, and the nights I'd stayed up with Liam and my father, drinking and talking over serious issues. After making several friends very quickly, we had quite a night. Some time later, after a few bottles, Carla showed up, grinning wickedly at mine and Devin's condition.
"Well aren't you two a pair of lugheads."
"Lughead? What's a lughead?" Devin asked me, slurring the words slightly. I shrugged; trying to focus my eyes so there was only one Carla instead of two.
"Your poor wives. Anyway, they asked me to see if you two were all right." She eyed us up and down. "Judging by the look of you, I'd suggest you stay the night. I'll let Orla and Josephine know." We thanked her profusely until she finally left. The rest of the night was a blur. The morning, however, was crystal clear.
"Oh....in the name of all that's sacred..." Devin groaned into my ear. I opened my eyes and blaring light filled them. Just as quickly I shut them and grimaced.
"Evan, you didn't tell me about the bloody headaches..."
"Quit shouting," I mumbled, wincing at the sound of his voice. We were lying in a corner of the market. Several other people were lying around nearby. Slowly we both stood up and opened our eyes.
"Let's go home." I finally managed to say. Devin started to nod, then winced and put a hand to his head. Together we made it back to the surface and headed for home. Did I say that the sun rarely shown? Well, that morning it was painfully bright. It was still fairly early and we weren't sure if anyone would be awake or not. To our surprise Orla was in the kitchen feeding a wide awake Brendan some mashed up food.
"Hey there my boy," Devin said softly, walking over to place a kiss on his son's head. Orla smiled at us wryly and folded her arms, looking Devin up and down.
"So how do you feel, now that you're a 'real' man?" Devin glanced at me before answering.
"To be honest? Like a piece of –"
"Evan! Thank god you're home!" Josephine's voice reverberated through my earlobes and I slowly started to rub my temples. Her next words however, drove all thoughts of a hangover out of my head.
"Orla, Devin! Lughna's gone! She's not in her bed!" Without asking questions we split up to search the house. During the past few weeks Lughna would sometimes wake up and start wondering around the house, occasionally going outside. She was beyond reason and it took at least two of us to bring her back inside to safety. We'd been searching for about ten minutes when I heard Orla's strangled cry.
"What is it?" I called, following the sound of my sister's voice. She was on the second floor, where Devin, her, and Brendan slept. Going into the room, I saw her leaning out over the open window on the far wall. Hearing me enter, she turned to look at me, face pale and aghast.
"It's Lughna..." Trembling, she stepped aside and pointed out the window. I rushed over and looked out. My breath caught in my throat. There, on the ground just outside the window, lay Lughna, still on the ground except for her red curls, which blew across her face gently from the breeze.
We can never know exactly how or when it happened. Orla told us that Brendan had woken her up unusually early that morning, before the sun had even risen. She'd been downstairs and hadn't heard anyone else get up. Neither Declan nor Siobhan had noticed their mother wake up. Soberly we prepared to burn the body of my sister-in-law. Lughna Rylee Harper. We never even knew her real last name. Little Declan and Siobhan watched faces white, as the body of their mother was burned, her ashes to be strewn into the ocean.
"At least she's with Liam now," Orla said softly, her face streaked with tears. One question was burning through all of our minds; when she had fallen, was Lughna sane or had she gone to that dark place her mind had so often sunk to after Liam's death? None of us wanted to broach the idea that maybe it hadn't been an accident. Maybe life with her love was too great for Liam. In any case, it didn't matter much. She was dead. Another member of our small family was gone.
After her death we avoided the third floor. Declan and Siobhan went to share a room with Devin and Orla. We refused to call the twins orphans. After all, an orphan is a person who has no family. Siobhan and Declan had two aunts and two uncles, as well as two cousins.
Slowly the relative happiness of our lives returned. Seamus and Brendan were becoming as thick as thieves, and all four children often played together. Their laughter and demand of our attention helped to ease that sad time after Lughna's death. Our mourning eventually came to an end the day that Orla announced she was pregnant, again. Her face glowing with pride, the astonished (yet happy) look on Devin's face, and my own happiness at the thought of another niece or nephew all served to bring us closer together.
So first fall, and then winter, passed as we waited. Waited for spring, waited for Orla's time of birth to come, waited for our lives to change yet again. One morning, eight months later, I was tickling Seamus mercilessly, causing the boy to squeal with laughter, and grinning at the sound of his voice, when Josephine suddenly said,
"I'll be turning twenty-six this year." She said the words with a strange sort of awe. Orla and Devin, who were also downstairs, exchanged smiles.
"You're getting old, sis." Devin teased her lightly.
"You're twenty-four Devin. I wouldn't be talking," Josephine retorted.
"What are we going to do for you mother's birthday?" I asked Seamus softly. As we had been playing in the kitchen, no one else heard my words. I stared into my son's blue eyes, as he shook his head, grinning that toothy smile of toddlers.
"I dunno Daddy," he replied, probably not even understanding the question. I gave him a quick hug then released him to go play with his cousins as I asked the question to myself.
In the end, it was Carla (again) who helped me out. I had gone down to the markets by myself to see if I couldn't get any ideas. Josephine still had the necklace with the wooden beads that I'd given her for our first anniversary, but I doubted I could make anything like them again. For the past couple of years we had mostly given each other non-material gifts. I'd play my music for her, or she'd sing something for me. Or other, more personal, such gifts. This year I wanted to do something special.
"Why hello there neighbor!" The familiar, jaunty voice said behind me.
"Don't you ever go home?" I asked as I turned. Carla grinned at me and gestured to the chamber around us.
"What are you talking about, this is home." I rolled my eyes and turned away.
"So...whatcha doing?" She fell into step with me. Obviously she was bored, though I couldn't imagine why. Usually she claimed to be busier than she could handle. Strangely enough, I found that I didn't mind the company.
"Trying to think of a gift for Josephine," I answered, pausing to look at several odd-looking objects spread out on a blanket on the floor.
"That sounds like fun. Anything I can do to help?"
"Well..." I thought for a few minutes, trying to think of things Josephine liked.
"She loves music..." I said at last, not sure where the thought was going.
"Have you guys been to the Museum?" Carla asked abruptly. I glanced at her and shook my head. What did the museum have to do with music? Sure, it had a few archives, but Josephine would probably find it boring to go and read the lists of old songs...
"Cause, you know, on Saturday nights they play all the old records. Everyone who can make it comes by and hangs out. There's dancing, and sometimes refreshments..." She kept talking but I had stopped walking and was staring at her.
"Carla, you're brilliant!" I could have hugged her, except that somehow I imagined that if a person tried to hug Carla, they'd end up with a dagger stuck in their gut.
"Well, yeah, of course." She stared at me as though I had stated that the sky was blue. I got the location from her, and the time that the 'party started' (to use Carla's words) before racing off back home.
Oh, I can't begin to describe how much fun it was, driving Josephine crazy with false hints as to what I got her. Or in this case, what I planned for her. Since we didn't know the exact day she'd been born, I picked a Saturday two weeks from when Carla and I had talked. We debated about whether Orla should go or not, since she was in the later stages of her pregnancy, but at last she decided that she wanted to see my surprise. I hadn't told anybody what the surprise was, and the looks on their faces as we walked into the largest chamber underground was priceless.
It was crowded with people; lights had been lit so the room was aglow. A few hand made decorations of bright gaudy colors hung on the walls, and music was blaring. Josephine nearly cried when she took it all in.
"So this is how they do it," She said softly.
"Do what?" I asked her.
"Stay sane." She grinned at me, and before I could answer she was dragging me to the center of the room, where people of all ages and size were dancing in a thousand different ways. The children had a blast, running and shouting and hopping to the music. Even Orla enjoyed it, though she couldn't do much but sit and listen. Each song was completely different as they were randomly chosen from the archives. That was one nice thing about the cities; they were literally the preservation centers of Earth's culture and history before the Nietzscheans had taken over. Music was one of the best things to be saved. Some songs were in ancient languages, but we didn't have to understand the words to enjoy the music. Other, slightly more recent pieces were in Common and many people sang along to the familiar tunes. While we there, Josephine and I chatted with several other couples.
"It's so great that the Magog haven't attacked all year. Whenever they do, no one arranges these for months," One woman was saying happily. Josephine and I exchanged glances. Magog? We knew they attacked the camps every once in awhile, but we had always assumed that the Nietzscheans fought them off.
"Oh they do, but a lot still get into the human ghetto." The woman said, before moving on, probably not wanting to depress her night by talking about Magog.
We spent all night there; Brendan fell asleep on his mother's lap, but Siobhan, Declan, and Seamus stayed up with us, screaming with laughter. I have to admit, that while the slower songs were lovely, I preferred the louder, faster music, the kind that left a ringing in my ears. Most of the crowd seemed to like these; there was just something about the crazy, frenzied dancing to the fast beats that made it all the easier to forget about our lives outside. It was strengthening in a way I never knew music could be.
Still, as dawn approached, the crowd started to thin, and we gathered the children for the walk home.
"Happy birthday," I whispered softly to my wife. She smiled and kissed me.
"Thank you," She whispered back.
After that we attended every week. We made some new friends, including a young woman named Theresa and her boyfriend Vince. Siobhan and Declan made a few friends their own age as well, but after a fight with one of them, Siobhan announced that she preferred her little cousins. Privately I figured it was because they tended to do what she told them to. In any case, the next month passed quickly and much more pleasantly than the past few had.
Orla gave birth to a healthy little girl at the end of her ninth month; almost to the day she'd announced she was going to have a child. The baby was beautiful, and the proud parents announced that they were naming her Caitlin. Brendan was enraptured with his baby sister, and Seamus often had to play by himself or with Declan for those first few months. Siobhan also seemed pleased that there was another little girl in the family. I too was delighted with my new niece. It was wonderful having so many children with us –five in all now- for, as Josephine pointed out, children are, above all, hope given human form.
Author's Note:
Ok, I know this was kinda short, but I couldn't help it. Or I didn't want to help it. Whatever. Anyway, you should be glad that I finished this episode so soon. I'd like to finish the whole series before school starts (I just know tenth grade is gonna suck) I'm so glad (still) that everyone's enjoying this. Thanks so much for the reviews, they really do mean a lot to me. And, in case you haven't noticed, yes, I do love music. All kinds of music. I can't imagine living without music, hence I added it many times in this story. Ok well, I'll have the next episode up asap. Thanks,
Luna Sealeaf