The Tank

The Tank, Chapter 16

We kept the tank, even though it was little more than a charred husk. But we made it beautiful, filling it with rich soil and planting it with wildflowers. It became the center of our capital, a living monument to the sacrifices that had to be made in order to create peace.

With Axel and his gang gone, we took the prison over ourselves. It became our castle, our capital, our Camelot. If we were ever threatened, we could hide inside its walls until the danger passed. And if we were ever frightened, we could look at the tank and remember the man who was never frightened, who gave his life so we could live free. Beyond the walls of the prison we ploughed the ground and planted fields, laboring over as much land as we could handle. That land grew as our community grew, as more and more people heard that peace could be found here and more and more refugees joined us.

As for the Roadside Palace, I took it over myself, turning it into a real traveller’s inn, where refugees could feel safe. I was still thirteen-years old when Cagney left. It had only been a few days since Cordite died, and I was serving the remaining samurai drinks, trying to help them forget. But Cagney didn’t want to forget. “To Cordite,” she said, raising her shot glass in a toast.

“To Cordite,” the others echoed, draining their glasses and slamming them solemnly back down on the table.

Maverik eyed Cagney. “You sure you want to do this?” At the time I didn’t know what he was talking about, so I immediately began to eaves drop.

“They deserve to know what he lived for and how he died,” Cagney replied.

“But you said so yourself,” Ratchet reminded her, “they’re probably dead. Probably have been for years.”

Cagney shrugged. “They probably are. But until I know for sure…it’s what he would have wanted.”

Carmine was with them, snuggling up next to Tex, who had his arms around her. “When you do find them, bring them back here. They’re always welcome.”

“Thanks, I will.” Cagney pushed back her chair and stood up. The others followed her out the back door, and I did to. I lingered behind the group as I watched her climb into one of Axel’s old techincals and pin a photograph to the sun visor. When I saw that picture I understood. It was the picture of Cordite’s wife and son riding the Dumbo ride at Disneyland. Then Cagney started the engine.

I looked into the back of the truck and saw that there were six barrels of ethanol stacked in the pick-up’s bed. Maverk, Tex, Ratchet, Carmine and Telly stepped out of the way and then waved goodbye. Cagney smiled and waved back before whistling. Lacey shot out between Maverik’s legs and lept up into the truck as Cagney drove away.

We never saw them again. WE hope it’s because they found someplace better. But we know that’s not possible. Thanks to the tank, thanks to the seven samurai, there’s no place better than here, not anymore.