Dystopia Chapter 34: Dying On the Inside

There we all sat, including Diana, Frank seated across the table, eyes avoiding Diana. His silent demeanor showed his sadness. Like everything else in the Well, stories spread quickly. Truths, half-truths and lies.

Transparency.

…the note, now crumpled, still haunted me. I pulled it out and read, “Mr. Jesse Tucker, I know who you are; I know where you are; I knew your wife; you are a dead man, sincerely.”

This continued to leave me wondering: what about my daughters?

Looking up, I realized each team member focused on me, silently, anticipating what was to come next. Opening up was not on my bucket list, but there was an unspoken understanding: if I expected consideration from these ‘friends,’ I needed to offer an explanation. Addison’s declaration was true. We are family… of sorts. Still, I knew little of their lives.

I read the note aloud, then continued: “Jesse Tucker is my full name. And from what I can tell, someone is aggressively seeking my demise. I do not know who or why. It had become advertised that there is a bounty on my head. Probably on all of us. By whom, the regional governor? Someone living in the shadows? Identifying that person is difficult. The problem: I wasn’t interested in knowing or even seeking that person.”

They nodded and settled in, waiting.

“Professionally, I was a teacher. Unfortunately, the institutions failed one by one — education, law, and cultural norms, trust, technology — social decay spreading like a virus, consuming society. Ended up working odd jobs, restaurant jobs, and tutoring for the well-to-do. Met Stacy and eventually at twenty-four ‘married’… Another institution that over time had dissolved. She was so caring and energetic, at the time working, then managing a cafe in the village below. Two years later, our first daughter, Susan, was born. Two years after that, Sandra.”

Catching my breath, I continued, “I left that fateful afternoon to tutor Mr. Eldridge’s three children. Two sons and a daughter. I promised to be home early. When I returned, the sun was setting, the air damp, looking forward to a meal together… family time.”

When I met Diana’s gaze, I understood that my narrative had struck a chord. Yesterday, she had declared, “Dad, I won’t be leaving.” I could only imagine what that had cost Luke.

“I bedded the horse down for the night. Entered our residence, finding it dark. Something was wrong. Perhaps they were already in the cafe. Lit a candle on the table and quickly realized the furnishings were awry, strewn about. Shouted out when I realized Stacy’s body was lying across the bed, abused… partially disrobed.”

Looking away. “The girls… were gone.”

Pausing, I looked at each member, each mute. I looked away, returned to the story. “Stood there… I know not how long, in shock. I spent over two years searching, following rumors, gossip — nothing. Searched until I finally ended here, at the Well. Memories, imagining the worst, hoping for the best. Alive on the outside, dying on the inside. Accepting the fact that I would never find them.”

I could see they still had questions they wanted to ask, wanted to comfort me. We all knew ‘sorry’ was not enough.

Shared memories stuffed within for months… years. I heard the words still; it seemed as if another was telling this tale. I was just a bystander.

Brett, leaning forward, said, “If you’re willing, I need to know more. Details, I have questions.”

“Why?” I asked.

“It’s my thing, finding people. I just need a few more details. With Cord’s help, if interested, we might check around, find a lead, information, perhaps find your daughters. Or maybe the attackers.”

I shrugged, interested… indifferent?

Did I genuinely wish to know?

Can I go on suppressing my feelings?

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