Sitting on the right side of the van behind Henry, Monty couldn’t see much of the Talulah River, so he concentrated on the landward side. The moment they passed the sign that read LEAVING LAKESIDE, he saw nothing but brown fields and bare trees. Viridus was the greening month, but nothing was blooming yet. Then he spotted an industrial complex that looked abandoned and houses crowded together on the land that rose behind it. He barely had time to blink when he was looking at open land and stands of trees again. The visual difference was so sharp, it felt like a blow to the senses.
“What kind of businesses were in the buildings we just passed?” he asked.
“Those buildings are closed,” Henry replied.
That didn’t answer his question. “Closed? Why?”
“They were warned twice about dumping too much badness into the land and water. They were told to find another way to make their products. They didn’t listen, so the Others who watch over this piece of Namid said, ‘No more,’ and the businesses had to leave.”
“To go where?”
Henry shrugged. “Into a city where they can dump their badness into land and water the humans use, or to another part of Thaisia that did not already have much badness from what humans made. Either way, they are gone from here, and the water and land do not taste of them anymore.”
Burke set his hand on the seat between them and wagged a finger in warning, but Monty couldn’t let it go. “What about the people?”
“I think some found other work and still live in the houses. Most moved away,” Henry replied.
Only this much land and not an acre more, no matter how cramped and crowded people’s living conditions become, Monty thought. Only this much waste as a by-product of what is made, or even the little bit granted to you will be lost.
Monty had read the human version of Thaisia’s history. He knew that boomtowns could become ghost towns. Even hamlets didn’t survive. Look at Jerzy.
Would anyone from Jerzy end up living in one of those empty houses? Would the decision makers on Great Island consider making room for more than one new resident?
Then Monty saw a small sign that read, FERRYMAN’S ORCHARDS NEXT RIGHT.
“We’re almost there,” Simon said.
Henry turned his head toward the backseat. “The Intuits have a shared use of all this land.”
Monty saw Burke’s look of surprise before the man regained control.
Open land changed to fenced pastures. Barns and farmhouses. Herds of cows and horses. Some sheep. A silo. A fading sign about picking your own berries. Rural, if Monty correctly understood the word.
Then it all changed again, and they were driving down the main street of a rustic little village. Electrical lines and lights in the windows were indications that this wasn’t a Simple Life community. The stores, while basic, were also abundant: grocery store, department store, general store, gas station; a handful of places to eat; a medical center and a dentist’s office; hair salon, bookstore, and a theater that offered two movies. And as they passed one of the side streets, he got a glimpse of signs for a bank and post office.
Not all that different from the Lakeside Courtyard’s Market Square, but built along the lines of a human business district.
“Ferryman’s Landing is divided by the river. This is the mainland half of it,” Simon said as he drove toward the water, then turned into a parking area. He shut off the van and got out, leaving the other three to catch up to him as he walked toward the dock.
“This is a marina?” Monty asked, noticing the building that indicated it was a boat repair and storage facility.
“Yes,” Henry said. “Some of the boats that dock here belong to families who fish for a living. Some will take visitors for a ride along the river.” The Grizzly pointed at a vessel. “And, as you can see, the ferry also runs out of here.”
More like a miniature ferry, Monty thought. The ferries he’d seen when he lived in Toland were three times the size of the boat he was looking at now.
One sign near the ferry’s dock posted the times. The other sign posted the fees for a round-trip ticket: $10 PER PERSON.
Not a trip anyone would want to do for fun, Monty thought. Especially with a family.
Burke pulled out his wallet and said, “Allow me.” He handed the man in the kiosk two twenty-dollar bills.
The man in the kiosk studied Simon and Henry. “I was told to expect the Lakeside Wolfgard. Would that be you?”
Simon nodded.
The man folded one of the bills and handed it back to Burke along with four tickets. “Day passes, in case you need to cross more than once during your visit.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Burke took the twenty and stuffed it into his coat pocket before handing the tickets to Monty, Simon, and Henry.
Only one price listed, and that one high enough to discourage visitors, Monty thought. “What happens if you want to bring a car to the island?” he asked once they boarded the ferry. Simon led them into the cabin, and he was grateful. Despite the sunshine, it didn’t feel like spring yet, especially on the water.
“Have to wait for the barge if you want to bring cars or trucks across,” Henry replied, taking a seat. “If you need something hauled on water, you call Ferryman. On land, you call Sledgeman Freight. That’s their building over there.”
Monty looked out the cabin window and studied the sign painted on one of the buildings. “They use horses to haul freight?”
Henry nodded. “They use trucks as well, but they still have working teams of horses on both sides of the river.”
Monty glanced at Burke and wondered if the man still wanted his friend’s son to relocate to the island.
“Morning.” A man wearing the gray uniform of the post office paused instead of walking by. “Saw some blue dancers yesterday.”
“Blue dancers?” Burke asked.
“A wildflower,” Henry replied. “When you see blue dancers, you know Spring is awake and Winter is yielding.”
The postman grinned. “But she never yields until she gives us one or two reminders of who she is before she settles in to sleep.” With a casual wave, he moved toward the front of the cabin and took a seat.
“They don’t have a full crew today,” Simon said, pointing to what looked like a small bar. “Usually they have someone in here selling coffee and sandwiches. In the summer, it’s cold drinks and ice cream.”
Could be a pleasant trip in the summertime if you could afford it, Monty thought. An afternoon’s outing to take the ferry, visit the village on the other side, and be home in time for dinner. Did the ferry run on Earthday if he wanted to take Lizzy, or would he need to arrange a day off?
Assuming he could win enough of a custody battle to keep his daughter on this continent. And assuming visitors were tolerated in the village. That was something he could report to Kowalski since Ruth was keen to visit the Simple Life community on the island but couldn’t find any information about a possible place to stay if they wanted to do an overnighter.
The welcoming committee waited for them at the dock—two men and one woman. Monty recognized the feral quality in the woman and one of the men, but he couldn’t tell what kind of earth natives had chosen to meet them.
“Mr. Ferryman,” Simon said when they stood in front of the Great Islanders.
“Mr. Wolfgard. You’ve brought guests.”
“This is Captain Burke and Lieutenant Montgomery. They need to be here for this discussion.” He looked at Burke. “Steve Ferryman is the mayor of Ferryman’s Landing.”