all god's orphans

“Can I go now?” Wallace wanted to know.

“When we get where we’re going,” Raymond said. “You can go.” Grey nodded to the landscape outside the window.

“Look out there.” He said to Wallace, trying to sound sympathetic. “Would you really want to be out there? It’s empty.” It was true. Plain gave way to plain and there was nothing at all to see in every direction. It was beautiful, but indeed empty. Wallace thought better of protesting his forced cooperation. There would be a more opportune time, he told himself. After all, he could barely walk and his arm hurt like Hell. He wouldn’t even be able to hitchhike properly. He lay back down on the sofa deciding that rest was the best option available.

At the small dinette table, Millie was pretending to pore through the documents from the general’s briefcase, but in truth, she was watching Brian as he flipped through the road atlas.

“What are you doing?” She typed. The question seemed to catch Brian off guard.

“Um.” He smiled. “I don’t want to tell you.” Millie grinned.

“Now you have to.” She said and saw him blush. It was the most adorable thing she had ever witnessed.

“Okay.” He cleared his throat. “I never paid attention to geography in school. I’m a little ashamed to admit this, but I don’t really know which states are which out here.” Millie chuckled.

“Me neither.” She assured him. “They’re mostly just squares anyway.” Brian laughed and Millie, for the first time in a long time, really wished she could still hear. She wanted to know what his voice sounded like. What his laugh was like. She imagined him with a baritone voice like an oak cello, rich, dark, and vibrant. He went back to getting his country’s layout straight in his head and she forgot to keep pretending to read and instead wound up just staring at him like a dope with cartoon hearts in her eyes. Brian didn’t even notice.

Sarah stood behind Wes as he flipped switches and turned dials. She found it fascinating that this box could listen to radio signals from nearly anywhere on earth. All her life she had wanted to talk to different people from around the world, and there was actually a machine that could do that. Aside from the Internet, obviously, but her dad would never have allowed that. She wanted to hear a real English accent. Or Australian. Or anywhere, really. She wanted someone else to say how charming her accent was and ask her to pronounce certain words, like “y’all” and explain it to them. She wanted to be a novelty.

Everyone in her town was the same. Same clothes. Same hobbies. Same school. Same stupid music. She would have given anything for this magic box that opened the world.

“What do those numbers mean?” She asked Wes, pointing to a digital display which showed a series of flashing numbers.

“Those are different frequencies.” Said Wes. “I’m scanning the band to try and pick up any traffic. So far, there’s nothing.” Sarah nodded and fell silent again. “Do you want to try?” Asked Wes and Sarah nodded vigorously. He stood up to let her take his seat and he stood behind her, showing her how to operate the radio. “This dial,” He said, placing his and on the large dial beside the digital number display. “Changes the frequency. You have to turn it very, very slowly. Like this.” He guided her hand clockwise and she twittered as the numbers began to change.

“It’s just static.” She said.

“It takes a while to work.” He told her. “You just have to keep doing it until it does. Move your hand real slow.” His fingers were directly on top of hers. “You go in small, little circles. Steady movement.” He realized he was getting too close. Backing up a foot, he encouraged her to keep going. She wanted to know everything and he was glad to show her.

“How long until we’re close enough for the radio to work?” Raymond asked Wes.

“About four hours if you take it easy.” He said. Raymond nodded. Four hours. Finally. He was so close now. If they put up a fight, well, he was confident that he could do what he had to. Should he have to. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He hoped they would understand. Just in case, he made sure his weapon was in reach and loaded.