Read Online Wastelands: Stories of the Apocalypse by Stephen King, George R. R. Martin, Cory Doctorow - Free Book Online
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to come down now and help him carry it up; they could make bags out of their shirts to carry lots of it at a time.
He splashed out into the air and then walked backward up the last few steps and across the submerged floor. Lehi was still sitting on the sill, and now Rain was there beside him, her bare feet dangling in the water. When he got there he turned around and held out the metal in his hands. He couldn't see their faces well, because the outside of the facemask was blurry with water and kept catching sunlight.
"You scraped your knee," said Rain.
Deaver handed her his flashlight and now that his hand was free, he could pull his mask off and look at them. They were very serious. He held out the metal pieces toward them. "Look what I found down there."
Lehi took a couple of metal pieces from him. Rain never took her eyes from Deaver's face.
"It's old cans, Deaver," Lehi said quietly.
"No it isn't," said Deaver. But he looked at his fistful of metal sheets and realized it was true. They had been cut down the side and pressed flat, but they were sure enough cans.
"There's writing on it," said Lehi. "It says, Dear Lord heal my girl Jenny please I pray."
Deaver set down his handful on the sill. Then he took one, turned it over, found the writing. "Forgive my adultery I will sin no more."
Lehi read another. "Bring my boy safe from the plains O Lord God."
Each message was scratched with a nail or a piece of glass, the letters crudely formed.
"They used to say prayers all day in the temple, and people would bring in names and they'd say the temple prayers for them," said Rain. "Nobody prays here now, but they still bring the names. On metal so they'll last."
"We shouldn't read these," said Lehi. "We should put them back."
There were hundreds, maybe thousand of those metal prayers down there. People must come here all the time, Deaver realized. The Mormons must have a regular traffic coming here and leaving these things behind. But nobody told me.
"Did you know about this?"
Rain nodded.
"You brought them here, didn't you." "Some of them. Over the years." "You knew what was down there." She didn't answer.
"She told you not to come," said Lehi. "You knew about this too?"
"I knew people came, I didn't know what they did."
And suddenly the magnitude of it struck him. Lehi and Rain had both known. All the Mormons knew, then. They all knew, and he had asked again and again, and no one had told him. Not even his friends.
"Why'd you let me come out here?"
"Tried to stop you," said Rain.
"Why didn't you tell me this?"
She looked him in the eye. "Deaver, you would've thought I was givin you the run around. And you would have laughed at this, if I told you. I thought it was better if you saw it. Then maybe you wouldn't go tellin people how dumb the Mormons are."
"You think I would?" He held up another metal prayer and read it aloud. "Come quickly, Lord Jesus, before I die." He shook it at her. "You think I'd laugh at these people?"
"You laugh at everything, Deaver."
Deaver looked at Lehi. This was something Lehi had never said before. Deaver would never laugh at something that was really important. And this was really important to them, to them both.
"This is yours," Deaver said. "All this stuff is yours."
"I never left a prayer here," said Lehi.
But when he said yours he didn't mean just them, just Lehi and Rain. He meant all of them, all the people of the Mormon Sea, all the ones who had known about it but never told him even though he asked again and again. All the people who belonged here. "I came to find something here for me, and you knew all the time it was only your stuff down there."
Lehi and Rain looked at each other, then back at Deaver.
"It isn't ours," said Rain.
"I never been here before," said Lehi.
"It's your stuff." He sat down in the water and began taking off the underwater gear.
"Don't be mad," said Lehi. "I didn't know."
You knew more than you told me. All the time I thought we were
He splashed out into the air and then walked backward up the last few steps and across the submerged floor. Lehi was still sitting on the sill, and now Rain was there beside him, her bare feet dangling in the water. When he got there he turned around and held out the metal in his hands. He couldn't see their faces well, because the outside of the facemask was blurry with water and kept catching sunlight.
"You scraped your knee," said Rain.
Deaver handed her his flashlight and now that his hand was free, he could pull his mask off and look at them. They were very serious. He held out the metal pieces toward them. "Look what I found down there."
Lehi took a couple of metal pieces from him. Rain never took her eyes from Deaver's face.
"It's old cans, Deaver," Lehi said quietly.
"No it isn't," said Deaver. But he looked at his fistful of metal sheets and realized it was true. They had been cut down the side and pressed flat, but they were sure enough cans.
"There's writing on it," said Lehi. "It says, Dear Lord heal my girl Jenny please I pray."
Deaver set down his handful on the sill. Then he took one, turned it over, found the writing. "Forgive my adultery I will sin no more."
Lehi read another. "Bring my boy safe from the plains O Lord God."
Each message was scratched with a nail or a piece of glass, the letters crudely formed.
"They used to say prayers all day in the temple, and people would bring in names and they'd say the temple prayers for them," said Rain. "Nobody prays here now, but they still bring the names. On metal so they'll last."
"We shouldn't read these," said Lehi. "We should put them back."
There were hundreds, maybe thousand of those metal prayers down there. People must come here all the time, Deaver realized. The Mormons must have a regular traffic coming here and leaving these things behind. But nobody told me.
"Did you know about this?"
Rain nodded.
"You brought them here, didn't you." "Some of them. Over the years." "You knew what was down there." She didn't answer.
"She told you not to come," said Lehi. "You knew about this too?"
"I knew people came, I didn't know what they did."
And suddenly the magnitude of it struck him. Lehi and Rain had both known. All the Mormons knew, then. They all knew, and he had asked again and again, and no one had told him. Not even his friends.
"Why'd you let me come out here?"
"Tried to stop you," said Rain.
"Why didn't you tell me this?"
She looked him in the eye. "Deaver, you would've thought I was givin you the run around. And you would have laughed at this, if I told you. I thought it was better if you saw it. Then maybe you wouldn't go tellin people how dumb the Mormons are."
"You think I would?" He held up another metal prayer and read it aloud. "Come quickly, Lord Jesus, before I die." He shook it at her. "You think I'd laugh at these people?"
"You laugh at everything, Deaver."
Deaver looked at Lehi. This was something Lehi had never said before. Deaver would never laugh at something that was really important. And this was really important to them, to them both.
"This is yours," Deaver said. "All this stuff is yours."
"I never left a prayer here," said Lehi.
But when he said yours he didn't mean just them, just Lehi and Rain. He meant all of them, all the people of the Mormon Sea, all the ones who had known about it but never told him even though he asked again and again. All the people who belonged here. "I came to find something here for me, and you knew all the time it was only your stuff down there."
Lehi and Rain looked at each other, then back at Deaver.
"It isn't ours," said Rain.
"I never been here before," said Lehi.
"It's your stuff." He sat down in the water and began taking off the underwater gear.
"Don't be mad," said Lehi. "I didn't know."
You knew more than you told me. All the time I thought we were
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