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       Displaced, p.7

           Gena D. Lutz
 
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  Over the coming days and weeks Ian found that he was slowly becoming more integrated into village life. He no longer kept to himself and began to really enjoy the company of others. He had dinner almost every night with Elton, Barbara and Jenny. They talked very little about the Metro and much more about village life. He had become firm friends with Elton as men often do when they have faced grave danger together. One evening Elton told him that they had heard that another poor soul from the Work Camps was going to be left at the same hut that Ian had occupied only a few months ago. Before he could stop himself Ian asked if he could go along to the hut to meet the new person. He wanted to help the unfortunate who, like him had probably been unceremoniously dumped at the hut in a bewildered state. This would also be a chance for him to relive his own experience and see for himself how far he’s come in the last few months. These thoughts reminded him of his ordeal with the filthy men and he was keener that ever to get going, before this horror was repeated.

  Next morning Ian and Elton left early with the horse and cart up the hill towards the hut. The two men said very little as they sat in the front of the cart wrapped in blankets against the morning chill. As they approached within a few kilometres of the hut they saw a dim figure in the middle of the road, half running, and half walking in clearly distressed. Elton snapped the reigns and the old horse picked up the pace. ‘It’s a woman,’ said Ian. ’Yes and scared half to death by the look of it too,’ said Elton as he stood up to get a better look. As they got closer the woman fell down and seemed to struggle to get up again, looking over her shoulder she took a last few steps before the wagon stopped just in front of her. Ian jumped to the ground and went to her aid. She was clearly exhausted and shrank back from him at first. ‘Please…’ she said and collapsed in a faint as Ian approached. He caught her as she fell and called to Elton for help. Between them they lifted her into the back of the wagon. Elton turned the wagon around while Ian sat with the woman. She came to after a few minutes and asked Ian if he was from the Displacement Community. ‘No, said Ian, we’re from the village of Meadowfield Acres. It’s not a displacement community but it is very much a community. I think you will be pleasantly surprised.’ Ian looked up at Elton who was smiling back at him.

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  Gena D. Lutz, Displaced

 


 

 
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