A Conversation in the Dark - Creative Writing

As Joshua was laying down into his capsule alongside the other members of the Quo Peregrinatur crew, he was still seeing the bright white, yellow and red flashes on the horizon which they all observed when boarding the space ship. The children were fed, played with and put to bed by the sisters. Joshua had talked to some of them and told them to be brave and not to lose hope. Now, exhausted, he tried to make himself comfortable and have some sleep. But his eyes seemed to have imprinted the visage of Lucifer that "mushroomed into hideousness above the cloudbank, rising slowly like some titan climbing to its feet after ages of imprisonment in the Earth" (Miller 312). Lucifer had won again, Joshua thought. History was repeating itself. He told the children to be brave and they were. They joined in the singing with the other brothers. Children possess this incredible ability to switch back and forth between the moods, forgive, forget and start anew. He wished he could forget what he had seen. He wished he could stop thinking about the new 'Flame Deluge' washing off everything that had been achieved. What was the use of preserving knowledge and technology if they only helped insatiably blood-thirsty human beings kill each other? Life will start again, of that he was sure, but was there any chance that the humanity will choose a different path? He felt he was dangerously close to doubt and the loss of hope. He needed to do something about it. So, he got out of his capsule and resumed his work on an old book he was interpreting.

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He opened the first page and looked at the very first sentence, very simple and yet extremely powerful: "When he woke in the woods in the dark and the cold of the night he'd reach out to touch the child sleeping beside him" (McCarthy 1). Joshua felt that this reaching out was the ancient instinct of every parent who, waking up in the night, makes sure that the children are safe and sound. In his life, he had cared for many children. This book fascinated him because it brought him very deep into the barbaric and instinct-driven world, similar to the world of his uncivilized hairy ancestors, and the first sentence of the novel seemed to be an embodiment of this eternal gesture - making sure that the child, the love and the hope of the family, is safe. This first sentence did not even specify yet that the world had collapsed and given way to a gray and hopeless dystopian scene teeming with marauders and cannibals. It spoke about "the dark and the cold of the night", any night in the history of the mankind. From this very first sentence on Joshua knew that this dark tale was about love - the love of a father for his son in the first place, but also the love of a son for his father, our love for those whom we value more than ourselves. Paradoxically, the darker and gloomier the book got the more love and hope it radiated.

Finally, Joshua felt so relaxed that he started drifting away. Suddenly, he woke up with a start. A disheveled and gaunt man was looking at him in the semi-darkness of the room. He had nailed Joshua to the place with an unwavering gaze. He was waiting for Joshua to break the silence.

- I know you. I've been reading about you.

- So, you are still reading, aren't you?

The man chuckled with a content look on his face.

- I taught my son to read but I never hoped he would need the skill. The world collapsed and we had only one aim - to stay alive, at any price... When I was young we used to read a lot. My wife and I used to spend the whole night talking about what we had read. I believed in books. They helped me try walking in somebody else's shoes. They gave me an opportunity to live many lives and, sometimes, to die many deaths. When we plunged ourselves deep into the fictional worlds, we emerged out of them different people. We were able to look at our own lives from a new perspective. But that was hundreds of years ago.

- It has not changed, brother. Books are still our hope for the future. They are those mirrors that allow the humanity to see its own faults and virtues. Books are condensed truths about this world, tiny models reflecting all the big changes that otherwise cannot be easily seen.

- So, the hungry, hopeless, desperate survivors are calling themselves 'humanity' again. This is a good sign.

An ironic, and yet strangely pleased smile appeared on the man's thin, dry lips. He seemed to like what Joshua was saying, while Joshua felt bitterness piling up inside him.

- Now, is it? These so-called 'human' beings have inflicted upon themselves a catastrophe again. They had it coming. This is what they have done with the knowledge we have been preserving for centuries, the knowledge that Saint Leibowitz had died for, the knowledge that could have brought peace and prosperity to the Earth. But instead ...

He felt devastated. Only a few hours before he took off his sandals, murmured, "Sic transit mundus," looking back at the glow and slapped the soles of his sandals together, beating the dirt out of them (Miller 312). He thought he had washed his hands clean. And yet, the ghost of the giant mushroom was hovering over him.

- You still have all the little joys of life, don't you? Like taking a hot shower, putting on clean clothes, having a cup of coffee, sleeping in your own bed! I did not have any of those. All I could think of was finding a shelter and some food to keep us going. You need to feel immense joy and gratitude. You need to be happy to be alive. You need to be brave.

- Are you brave?

Joshua's question sounded familiar. The man smiled at his thoughts a very sad smile.

- Just medium.

- What's the bravest thing you ever did?

The man spat on the floor a bloody phlegm.

- Getting up this morning (McCarthy 291).

The man stood up. He was obviously going to leave.

- My son is waiting for me. He needs me. But, to tell you the truth, I need him more. I need him to get up every morning, to keep going, to keep living. My wife gave up. She knew I would not leave him. I couldn't afford such a luxury as a suicide.

- But you are dying! What then?

- I do not have any answers. Probably, the paradise will not be found, the order will not be restored, nothing will be sure or safe. But still we are given hope and this hope against all ends is what makes us human. I hope my boy will meet a family that will take care of him and try to keep him safe. They will be good guys who don't eat people. The rest is silence, I guess.

Joshua woke up with a start. He had dozed off over the book. He looked at it. Now he knew why it had been sent to him. He knew the book was about the daily courage to go on living. It said that the universe is full of mystery older than men, but where is a maze, there is a map, where is love, there is hope. He got up and went to see if the children were all right. They were all sleeping peacefully in their cots. Joshua smiled and quietly closed the door behind him.

Rationale

My aim in choosing the creative option was to start a dialogue with the authors whose books we have read in class. Books are talking to us and I have always felt like talking back to them. Through this task, I wanted to convey the ideas that profoundly resonated with me while I was reading the novels, but to do so in a creative way. My purpose was also to show that The Road by Cormac McCarthy and A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller Jr. are integral parts of one big conversation about the things that really matter and that make human beings human.

I employed several strategies to make my short story as appealing and insightful as possible. First of all, I wrote the story in the form of a sequel: it immediately follows the final chapter of A Canticle for Leibowitz. Thus, it does not contradict what happens in the source text. Secondly, I wrote the story in such a way that it is not clear to the readers if the conversation between the main characters is happening in reality, in a dream or some other kind of illusion. This relieves the readers of the necessity to doubt the plausibility of the encounter and allows more freedom for the dialogue. Thirdly, I made Joshua read Cormac McCarthy's Road which helped me connect the two characters and find a common ground for their conversation. I made the characters talk about books because I believe that books are a symbol of human knowledge, culture and, more widely, civilization. Another topic I chose for them is the courage of everyday struggle, which is, probably, the hardest struggle of all, but also everyday joys which many of us tend to get used to too quickly. Finally, I employed the image of children as a symbol of hope.

I feel I have achieved my aims - at least, partially. What I can say for sure is that this task has made me feel a part of the universal dialogue which includes McCarthy, Miller and other writers and this is an empowering feeling.

Work Cited

MacCarthy, Cormac. The Road. Pan Macmillan, 2010.

Miller, Walter M. A Canticle for Leibowitz. 4th ed., Bantam Books, 1976.