“It’s going to be a wonderful day.” Carl sat down on his cot and tied his shoes quickly. He bounced to his feet again. “Well, here we go. Goodbye, Verne. We’ll see you later.”
“Goodbye.”
They went down the hall, downstairs, and out onto the porch. “You see?” Carl said. “Wonderful day. How could we ask for anything better?”
“Where’s your manuscript?”
“My gosh. I forgot it. Wait.” Carl went back into the building. “I’ll run up and get it.”
He clattered up the stairs. A few minutes later he returned, breathless and excited, holding a brown package under his arm.
“Is that it?” Barbara asked.
“That’s it. Imagine forgetting it. I would have noticed, but not for a while.”
“All right,” Barbara said. “Let’s head for the woods.”
It took quite a long time to reach the woods. They left the Company property, passing beyond the strip that was the final marker, and began to climb. The woods were near the top of a long row of hills. Trees, crooked and bent, like ancient people too old to follow after the others who had left.
Carl and Barbara crossed a plowed strip and entered the first grove of trees, panting with exertion as they walked.
“Stop,” Barbara gasped.
“Already?”
“I have to get my breath.”
They stopped, turning to look back down. Below them, stretched out across the floor of the valley, was the Company, the towers and buildings, slag heaps, pits, open furnaces. Roads crossed here and there, roads and paths.
“How small it looks,” Carl said. “From here it looks so small. I thought it was much larger. I guess it really isn’t so much after all. I’ve never been outside of the grounds before, not since I first came. Now I’m standing on the outside again after years. It feels strange to look down at it from beyond.”
“It does feel strange.”
“Well, let’s go.” Carl started on, into the woods. “We have to find a place to sit down.”
“Is it safe?” Barbara looked around them.
“Is what safe?”
“The woods. It looks so dark and hostile. Are there any animals or anything?”
Carl laughed. “Not any more. Company men went in and beat out everything, all the animals and snakes and birds they could find.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Company policy in a new location.”
Barbara peered in between the trees. The woods were silent and dark. Nothing stirred. “I feel like Gretel. You’re sure it’s safe?”
“Come on.” Carl went off first, leading the way. “I personally guarantee your safety.”
He disappeared into the trees. Barbara followed slowly after him, her hands in the pockets of her slacks. She gazed up at the trees above her. At the masses of dark brush and weeds on all sides. Great roots twisted through the damp soil. Old roots. Bigger than the trees themselves.
“Coming?” Carl halted.
Barbara came up to him. “Yes.”
“We better stay together.”
“All right.”
They tramped up the hill to the top. For a time they were on level ground. Then the hill sank abruptly, sliding down into a canyon below. Scrub plants grew in bunches at the bottom. The soil was dry and sandy. Carl and Barbara stood gazing down.
“Maybe we can read here. At the top.” Barbara walked around, looking for a place. “How about over there under that tree?”
Carl stood with his hands on his hips, his brown paper package at his feet. “Isn’t this something? We’re at the top of the world. This is high. Do you know how high this is? We’re on one of the highest plateaus in the world. This is old land.” He waved his hand at the canyon and the hills beyond. “Very old land. This is the original continent. These hills have been weathered through millions of years.”
“Oh?” Barbara sat down gingerly, at the foot of a great tree. She lit a cigarette.
Carl continued to stand. Hills and valleys, narrow canyons and flat stretches surrounded them on all sides, as far as the eye could see. In the distance, the mountains took on a bluish tint, an indistinct hue. The mountains went up, higher and higher. The highest were lost in the rolls of white clouds scattered across the sky.
“I feel like God,” Carl announced.
“Why?”
“To be here. At the top of the world.” He waved his whole arms, like a symphony conductor. “Look! I’m creating the world. Here it comes. Hold on tight.”
His whole body moved as he swayed back and forth, as if he were conducting some heavy masterpiece of the middle eighteenth century. He frowned, concentrating. He blond hair hung down, slapping against his forehead. Back and forth he swayed, eyes shut, jaw set.
Barbara watched silently, smoking and resting.
“Look! It’s here!” Carl stepped back, throwing up his arms as if to protect himself. “Get back.”
“What’s here?”
“The world. I just made it. It’s still hot. We’ll have to wait for a while until it cools off.” He came over to her, grinning down, his hands in his pockets. “Well? What do you think of it? Any suggestions?”
“For what?”
“Suggestions as to how it should be.” He considered.
“What’ll I do with it? I have to put things on it. Men. I want human beings running around. No world’s complete without people. Let’s see.” He folded his arms solemnly. “I wonder if there’s anything better than men that’s come along recently. Maybe there’s something new. I better get hold of the monthly bulletins and study them.”
Barbara shook her head.
“What’s the matter?” Carl squatted down. His grin faded a little, shading into embarrassment. “Am I acting silly again?”
“No. It’s all right.”
“Wait.” Carl went back to get his manuscript. “I left it behind again. You see? I forgot it. That shows something. It’s very important, the way I keep leaving it behind me.”
“What does it show?”
“It shows I don’t really want it. It shows I want to get rid of it. It’s a secret unconscious wish.”
Barbara smiled. “Really?”
“It’s true! I forget on purpose. That’s what forgetting is. An unconscious act, getting rid of something you don’t want. That’s what Freud says.”
He sat down beside her and began to unfasten the cord from around his package.
“You certainly have it all tied up,” Barbara observed.
“I’m protecting it. It has to be safe from all harm. You see, if my unconscious wants me to get rid of it I have to fight all the harder consciously to protect it.”
He folded the cord up and put it in his pocket. He removed the brown paper carefully.
“How does it look?” He held the package up.
“It looks fine.”
“Well, that’s half the battle.” Carl slid the first few pages under. “Now the question arises as to just how it sounds.”
He stroked the paper for a time, not saying anything but just sitting and holding his manuscript with his large, pale hands. Presently he reached up and pushed his hair back from his forehead.
“I’m ready,” Barbara said. “Any time.”
Carl nodded. “All right. It’s quite a strange place here, isn’t it? So silent Not a sound. No one at all, anywhere around us. We might be the only two people left in the world. Like in those English doom stories that were popular in the thirties. Where the world has come to an end. Except for a young man and a young woman. No one else left but them. Civilization in ruins. Apes and bats running all over. Empty cities. And just the two of them, to rebuild the world.”
“Do they?”
“Well, they have to get married first.”