It’s been almost a month, but we’re back! Here’s this week’s story! —–jeff

Continental Divide

by Jeff Baker

It was Bay Day so Dad/Mom let me cut school but that didn’t stop him/her from spouting out a few lessons on the way.

“A well-educated citizen is a good citizen” he would quote.

“Aw, Dad/Mom,” I said. “That’s an oldie from the days when we had a government. And States.”

“Glad you caught that,” Dad/Mom said. “But I have a real surprise for you! Just a little ways.”

“What surprise?” I asked, but He/She just smiled.

After a few more minnics I glanced down from the hoverflyer through the tinted glass.

“Hey, that’s a road down there!” I said pointing. I knew about roads. In school, Team J had done a report on them complete with digital of one of the team members walking along an old one and tripping on part of the warped, what did they call it? Pavement? They got the class medal that week. Me, I had only seen a couple of real roads and most of them didn’t go anywhere. But the one beneath us was long and grey and it didn’t look disturbed even after all the time that had passed.

“We’ll just be down for a monment,” Dad/Mom said.

The hoverflyer landed beside the road on a crumpled ground of some red stone. I reached down to touch it. There were big red rock formations all over the area. They weren’t glowing but that wasn’t always an indication. Still, I knew Dad/Mom would not have brought me here if there was anything unsafe to touch.

“Over here,” Dad/Mom said, actually walking on the road. “Just a short ways.”

I followed him, breathing in uncycled air and feeling the flat, hard road under my shoes.

“Right here,” Dad/Mom said. There was a large sign, almost as tall as Dad/Mom and taller than me just off the road. It was some kind of sturdy board. “Do you read Murcan?”

“Of course,” I said. “I did my Languology last year.” I stared at the board. “But this is Ancient Languology. Old Murcan.”

I studied the words. The Ancient words were slightly different but not that hard to read.

Continental Divide

Elevation 7,295 feet

Rainfall divides at this point

To the West it drains

Into the Pacific Ocean

And the remaining words were worn away. Maybe by the curious feeling antiquity with their fingers.

“Some of these signs have been preserved,” Dad/Mom said. “By Antiquarians.”

“Like the number signs they find along the roads!” I said. “40. 66. Numbers like that. And that Ocean thing. That’s Pre-Bay, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Dad/Mom said smiling. “But the reason I wanted you to see this is because it’s history. This dates back to when this was a country, a city-state. Before everything was divided. Before the Old World was erased.”

“Ahwow!” I breathed.

“Want another surprise?” Dad/Mom asked. “Look here.”

I walked around to the other side of the sign. There were Murcan words on it too. I started reading them aloud. Then I laughed.

“The same thing as the other words!” I said, still laughing. Dad/Mom laughed too.

“This has been preserved,” he/she said. “Hopefully you can show your offspring this someday.”

I nodded, looking out to the horizon, wondering how far this road still extended; where had it led in the Ancient Days?

“Better go now,” Dad/Mom said.

I nodded. We got in the hoverflyer and headed on to the Bay.

—end—

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’d taken the picture at the Continental Divide sign in New Mexico along Highway 40 in the desert. And I’d seen San Francisco Bay earlier in the week. So all of that went in here. An old-fashioned sci-fi story? Obvious social commentary? Probably.

———–jeff