While John and Kimmy headed to the utility shed, Jenna led me to the stable, where Ghost and Bella were awake and clearly hungry. They nickered at us as we retrieved their bags of feed.
“So, you lived in a compound?” Jenna asked casually as she fed Bella. “This must be a whole new world to you.”
Like her older sister, Jenna had an open demeanour that suggested she spoke her mind. Unlike most of the Valley residents the day before, she didn’t treat me with reserve or suspicion, and I appreciated it.
“You could say that,” I replied as I filled Ghost’s food tray. “Honestly, I still feel overwhelmed sometimes by how different it is out here. But I’m glad to be here.”
Jenna nodded thoughtfully, tilting her pretty face toward Bella.
“What was it like, living there? I’ve heard stories, from time to time. That you guys have so much more Old World stuff than we do.”
I shrugged. “We had access to a lot of cultural material from the Old World, yes. Most of it was preserved digitally. We also had advanced technology that meant we didn’t have to work as hard to survive on a daily basis.”
“What do you miss the most?”
I hummed, thinking. “Besides not having to worry about food all the time? I really miss music. I know John said that some people have a small collection of Old World music in hard copy here, but at home, we had an unlimited virtual library. Millions of songs.”
“Millions?” Jenna asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “How did you ever listen to it all?”
I giggled. “Well, we didn’t. But we had the option. And because I was a musician, I liked having more song to learn to play.”
Jenna broke into an unexpected grin. “I like to play music, too. I play violin at some of our community dances with Liam. What did you do?”
We launched into a happy conversation about music as we mucked out the horse stalls and let the horses out to pasture. I learned that Jenna had been playing violin since she was seven years old, and she seemed to share my passion for music. She played in a duo with her friend, Liam, who played piano. I told her about my singing, how the piano was my favourite instrument, and sang a few of my favourite songs. Unsurprisingly, she’d never heard most of them before, but she was nonetheless intrigued. Her large, friendly eyes sparkled with interest and intelligence, and perhaps for the first time since I’d left the Cave, I felt like I’d discovered a kindred spirit.
A spark of delight ignited in my belly. I loved John and Kimmy, but they were nothing like me. I’d come to appreciate our differences, but Jenna loved so many of the same things I did—music, books, art.
“Isla always made fun of me for it,” Jenna said as we moved on to the barn, “but there are never enough books around here for me. I go through them too quickly. We only get what we can scavenge, and sometimes, they come back with nothing. I’m so jealous of how many books you guys had.”
I smiled. “I do miss it. I never realized how much of a privilege it was until I lost it.”
We repeated the feeding and cleaning process in the barn, chatting amiably about what other things I’d had access to in the Cave. Jenna was fascinated by the idea of TV and movies, so I spent a lot of time telling her about the ones I’d seen. I told her about modern art, and my paintings, and the artists I’d admired. Inevitably, it led me to recounting my second teaching subject: history, and that fascinated her more. She asked me all sorts of questions about the past, with a thirst for knowledge that rivaled my own. It made the hours pass at a lightning pace.
For her part, Jenna was patient and kind as she showed me how to do various tasks around the farm. On top of basic animal care, she taught me how to milk the cows, helped me gather eggs from the chickens, and instructed me on how to check the animals for signs of disease. She told stories about life on her family farm, growing up withDanny and Isla and their grandparents. Their parents had died when Jenna was only a year old, so they were the only family she’d known.
“And you were a teaching assistant to Dr. Irons?” I asked as we headed back toward the farmhouse.
She nodded. “I loved the job, especially working with the little kids. Dealing with Dr. Irons, though…”
“Seems like he had a reputation,” I remarked, and she chuckled.
“He wasn’t a bad guy,” she answered. “Just old-fashioned. Stuck in his ways. Liked to do things by the book. He was a better teacher when I was a kid. The years had started to catch up to him by the time he finally admitted he needed an assistant.”
“Why didn’t the council find a replacement sooner?”
Jenna sighed. “Politics, mostly. When Oisín was chairman, he tried to find someone, but nobody wanted the job. On top of that, Dr. Irons found the search for a replacement insulting somehow, like we were saying he was old and washed up.”
I didn’t point out that it sounded like he had been old and washed up, but Jenna seemed to read my thoughts, because she chuckled.
“Anyway, after Jameson took over, suddenly it wasn’t a priority anymore,” she said. “He was always tight with Dr. Irons, and much more conservative. So, the process stalled until I got the assistant job. He planned to train me to eventually be his replacement, but—” she shrugged, “—then he had a heart attack.”
We walked to the greenhouse, where Kimmy had told me they grew medicinal herbs for the clinic, as well as a small number of crops in the winter. Of course, at the moment, it was desolate, but I could at least begin the process of restoring it to its former glory.
The greenhouse was small and mercifully warm, a welcome change from outside. Jenna helped me haul bags of soil and fill plant pots, remarking that she was impressed with how much I already knew about planting. That, at least, made me feel a small spark of pride. The many hours I’d spent in the garden at our camp hadn’t been for nothing.
“What did you do, back at the compound? Did you guys have jobs?” Jenna asked as she scooped dark soil into an empty pot.
“Yes,” I said, keeping my voice casual. “I was a music and history teacher for several years before the attack happened.”
