Chapter Text
Chapter 1- Don’t Forget to Remember Me
18 years have come and gone
For mama they flew by
But for me they drug on and on
We were loading up that Chevy
Both trying not to cry
Mama kept on talking
Putting off good-bye
When Joshua Graham thought back on the day he left his home a lifetime later, all he wanted to do was tell the boy he was “Don’t go. Stay here and save yourself and everyone else all the pain. Just stay in New Canaan.” But no one can change the past, no matter how much they may wish to.
18-year-old Joshua Graham stood in front of his childhood home adjusting the .45 on his hip. He wasn’t used to the gun on his side, he’d practiced with his gun for years but he’d never actually walked around with a gun before, New Canaan was well guarded and the adult men were the only people allowed to carry guns in the city. That means me now, doesn’t it? Joshua thought. He still wasn’t used to being considered a man. It was funny, he’d wanted to grow up and be treated like a man for so long and now that he was a man it seemed strange. He didn’t feel any different than he did at 17.
His mother brushed his dark hair out of his face. Her eyes were red, she’d been crying even though she was trying to hide it, it was obvious. Joshua had seen this whole routine before when his older brothers went on their mission. His mother cried in her bedroom before they left and she openly cried once they had gone. She was a good woman, a good Christian who perfectly fulfilled God’s role for her, his mother.
“Now, promise me you’ll be careful. Stick to the highways, don’t go off wandering, don’t take any unnecessary risks,” his mother adjusted his hat for what must have been the thirteenth time today.
“I’ll be careful, I promise. I’m doing God’s work, he will protect me.”
“And keep your hat on, you’ll get a sunburn.”
“I will.”
“And remember to fill up your canteen everytime you come across water.”
“I will.”
“And remember-”
“I’ll be fine Mother. Have faith.” Joshua smiled at his mother.
“I know. It’s just- You’ll always be my little boy. Always.” His mother finally took a step away from him. “There’s 200 caps in your backpack if you need them. That’s also where you’ll find your map and your Bible to help you find your way. Your father wants to see you before you leave,” Joshua began to turn and walk away when his mother’s voice stopped him. “One more thing. I love you Joshua. More than you can possibly know.”
“I know. I love you too Mother.”
His mother smiled and shook her head, tears in her eyes. “No. You may love me, but not as much as I love you. You can’t know how much I love you, not until you have children of your own. Just- Pray for your mother. This old woman needs all the help she can get. I’ll pray for you every morning and every evening. And come back to me. I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t come back, I couldn’t go on. Do you understand?”
“Yes mother. I’ll come back to you I promise.”
Of all of the lies and broken promises Joshua Graham had made in his life, this one would haunt him the most.
He waved goodbye to his younger siblings, picked up his backpack and set off to find his father. His father was a stoic, hard man with all the dignity a head of household ought to have. He wasn’t as affectionate as his mother was but women were always more emotional than men. They couldn’t help themselves.
That’s what made them good mothers and homemakers, but that’s why men had to lead. Women couldn’t be trusted not to act based on emotions. They weren’t logical like men were. That’s why God made them physically weaker, men could kill to protect those they cared about. Women were usually too sentimental to kill righteously.
Joshua’s father had taught him that while women weren’t fit to lead they were still the most valuable resource the world had. “Women,” his father said, “are not capable of balancing being righteous and necessary wickedness like we are. A good woman can be more pure and holy than you or I could ever be. She cannot conceive of the brutality that is necessary for survival. We must protect these good women because they are not capable of protecting themselves. They either die righteous or they try to emulate men and fall as Eve did. That is why while Colt may have made men and women equally physically capable of killing, we still must take up the burden. To guide and shield our wives so that they may give us sons that can be nurtured and loved as only a mother can.”
Joshua approached his father who was waiting for him at the edge of New Canaan with something black draped over his arm.
“Ah, Joshua. I assume you’re ready to head out?” Joshua stood eye to eye with his father now. He had always taken after his father in looks, inheriting his dark hair and everyone said that soon he would be taller than his father.
“Yes Father.”
“You know the way? And who you’re supposed to meet?”
“Yes. South down the Long 15 to 89. Then take the 67 at Jacob Lake down to the end of the road where I’ll meet nine Followers of the Apocalypse at North Rim.” Joshua had been over the route many times in his head, highlighted it on his map. He’d be alone on this journey and didn’t want to risk getting lost in the wastes.
Joshua couldn’t be more thrilled with his mission. All New Canaanites studied the languages of the tribals but Joshua had a particular talent for it. He knew that his mission was not to meet these tribes as a translator but to spread the good news but he secretly was looking forward to testing his skills as a translator much more than being a missionary. He knew this was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. There were two things in this life that Joshua was proud of, his knowledge of languages and his skill with his gun. Pride goeth before the fall but Joshua didn’t see how these skills could really lead him away from God, particularly his linguistic talents.
“Yes,” Joshua’s father replied. “You recognize the followers by the crosses on their coats. They look like the crosses our chaplains wear.”
His father held the black vest that was draped over his arm. “Take this,” he said. “Your mission will be dangerous. Our Lord will protect and guide you but still we can’t expect God to do all the work. This will help shield you.”
The vest was heavy and thick with many pockets on the outside and SLCPD SWAT written on it in white lettering.
“Thank you Father,” Joshua said shrugging off his backpack to put the vest on. It weighed him down but it was better to be alive than to be comfortable.
“Make God and I proud boy. May God’s love be with you,” Joshua’s father stuck out a hand which Joshua shook looking his father directly in the eyes before putting his backpack back on and leaving New Canaan behind for what he didn’t realize would be decades.
Joshua Graham set off alone into the wastes of Utah along the Long 15. He would not be the same man when he returned some 30 years later.