Living History


carl2_icon.gif kaylee6_icon.gif

Scene Title Living History
Synopsis An innocent question about history brings about an idea.
Date March 12, 2021

Kaylee's Apartment - Raytech Corporate Housing

“Hey, mom?”

“Hmm?” Kaylee looked up from the book she was reading - one of Gillian’s novels, in fact - curled up sideways on the couch with a blanket across her lap. Willy was happily loafed on the couch back purring roughly as his person ran fingers over his back and scratched his chin.

“You were Ferry.” Her son states, because it wasn’t something to question. His mother had been a part of the Ferrymen. Placing his history book in her lap, Carl sat on the edge of the couch looking at her almost expectantly, so Kaylee set aside her own book and picked up the textbook. On the indicated page, she found a small picture of a crumbling Bannerman Castle shot through some trees in the lower left corner of the page. “Is it true that the Fall of Polo… Pala…”


“Yeah that island,” Carl pointed to the picture, giving it a tap. “Did that start the war?”

“Mmm, sorta,” Kaylee nods an affirmative. “It was one of the things, sure… but a lot happened to get to that night.” One still fresh, sometimes the calls of a flock of birds would bring it back in a rush of choking memories.

Eyes wander the page of the book finding only a few sentences, sterilized for younger eyes, about the island and the fall. “It was our last hope to help the people that were being hurt by the Mitchell Administration,” Kaylee explains. Brows furrow as she looks over the words. Kaylee couldn’t help but feel a little bitter, even though history classes often only touch events. While the war as a whole was discussed in depth everything leading up to it felt sparse and easily glossed over.

But, Kaylee reminded herself, it was also a grade school book.

“What was it like? Living in a castle?” Carl’s question gets a small smile, because she didn’t need telepathy to know what he’s thinking, his mind was young enough to see the fantasy in those crumbling ruins. Thoughts of knights, princesses, dragons, and wizards.

For her and many others the events of that night still haunted their nightmares.. There was a smidge of guilt at the fact, she was going to shatter his ideals.

“The biggest thing I could remember was it was cold,” Kaylee said, letting her eyes fall back on that tiny picture, “No hot showers or bathrooms. Sometimes we’d wake up to snow in our rooms, because of the wind. Not to mention little to no privacy, but we made it work, using old techniques for those things. Rundown places like this were often the only home we had most times.”

Kaylee slides her legs off the couch to sit properly on it and tucks an arm around her son. Her little boy is quiet for a moment before asking, “So you and dad were homeless? How did you afford things?” Even at his age, Carl understood the importance of money.

Taking a deep breath Kaylee considers the question. “Well… It was a community effort. Things were secretly donated to our cause - like your Uncle Richard and Aunt Liz - oftentimes we used our skills to provide, but everyone had a part to play. We were a big family and if we didn’t do our part - even cleaning the latrine - the people trying to hurt us would have won. It wasn’t easy…There were times we went hungry to ensure that those under our protection were cared for… but nothing worth doing is ever easy.”

There is a soft, “Huh,” from Carl, sounding a touch disappointed. Still, he considers what he’s been told, pulling the book over into his lap. “So…. why don’t they talk about all that in history books?”

A question so innocent, with no real view of the world out there waiting for him.

“That’s a good question, my little love.” Kaylee brushes stray strands of hair, he needed another haircut. “Maybe they feel you are too young to know these things, yet?” His mother sounds almost sad talking about it, because the truth was, people would rather forget a tragedy… a massacre like that.

“But I’m going on 9, I’m almost grown up!” Carl protests and pouts. Like any kid, he was in a hurry to grow up and be able to stay up past his bedtime or get to know grown up things.

Kaylee can’t help but chuckle. “Of course, you are. You’re almost halfway there,” she teases, earning a glare and a roll of his eyes. Ruffling his hair, she leans over and presses a kiss to his temple, which he makes only a mild attempt to avoid. After all, he was a mama’s boy, even if he’d deny it. “Go finish your homework,” she says with a gentle push.

With a pained sigh, Carl’s shoulders slump in defeat. He always disliked starting his weekend at his mom’s house with homework, but he knew they couldn’t do anything fun until he was done. So he gets up to do what she asked, but drags his feet to get there.

“Hey mom?” Carl asks, stopping after a few steps.

“Hmm?” Kaylee looked ready to tell him again to get back to his homework. Luther had agreed to stay away until she texted Carl was done. Like any weekend they had plans.

“Can we visit sometime?” Carl asks sheepishly.

“The Island?”

Carl nods and bites his bottom lip, waiting.

“Mmmm. Maybe when you’re older, It’s not really a place for kids,” she offers, though it makes Carl look crestfallen and dejected. What he doesn’t know is that Kaylee remembers the field of bones. Many of which were of innocent people mowed down by the very government that was supposed to protect it. “Now, homework.” This time she says with a bit more authority, motioning to the dining room table. As Carl dropped back down into his seat, his mother realized just how important that part of her life was.

Much of who she was now was because of her time within the Ferrymen and now that was a part of the island…. and all of that was now a part of her son’s heritage. While groups and the government have worked to preserve who they were and some of the lighter parts of it… the Island was different.

To those that didn’t live it, the whole island was seen as a dark bloody stain on America’s past. Something to be eventually forgotten, lest the country be forever seen in a tainted light, but for her… for many others, it was important that it be remembered. It was the resting place of so many of their friends and family, their bones left to bleach in the sun.

Kaylee couldn’t help but feel the need to do something about that.

Leaning over, Kaylee snatches her phone off the coffee table. Scrolling through the numbers, she finds Colette’s almost immediately. Setting it to dial, she tucks the phone to her ear. When she hears that familiar voice, she can’t help but smiles brightly. “Hey, you,” she offers brightly. “Yeah, okay right now. And, yes, I miss you too. I’m sorry I haven’t called lately.” She looks down at her lap with guilt, she hadn’t been in contact with many of her friends and family outside of the Severed. “But hey I hear Tania and I wanted to talk to her too. So put the phone on speaker, I have an idea and I want you two to tell me what you think.” She waits and once she knows they are both listening she lets the cat out of the bag.

“Let’s preserve Pollepel Island.”

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