Smoke
⍍
A week ago, the earth shook beneath our feet.
I told mama not to be worried - that sometimes these things happened.
They say the earth moves when mountains collide under the water
but we know the truth.
The earth moves to settle in for winter
like turning over to sleep.
⍍
Five days ago, a man stumbled into our town
his face was dark with ash and soot
and he could not speak
only mumble.
He stared through us, as if we were not there at all.
He looked at me and I saw nothing in his eyes.
He said "fire",
and "death",
and "smoke".
I offered to let him stay at our house
(though mama threw such a fit about his cleanliness!)
but he was gone by the morning.
They said he walked south.
⍍
Three days ago, the earth trembled again
and a group of miners from the hills said they saw something burning
over the mountains, to the north.
"Are the forests burning?" we asked
though it was late in the season for them to do so.
They said no.
They said that it was not burning wood
but something else.
They said that up in the hills, they could hear sounds
sounds of machines and grinding metal
faint, but growing closer.
And they said that they saw smoke
thick and black and dense
not from burning trees
but something else.
⍍
Two days ago a group of men came to our town from the south.
They rode in a motor vehicle and wore helmets
like soldiers.
The earth had shaken again in the night,
and now we could feel tremors every few hours.
Mama was growing anxious.
She wanted us to go to the hills,
where tía Elaina and the cousins live.
I told her that was silly, that someone needs to watch the farm
and the house.
I told her I would ask the soldiers about the tremors
and the smoke.
When I spoke to them, they said very little.
They looked at me like an adult might look at a lost child
and they said that many others were heading south
to La Paz.
I mentioned the farm, and the house
and the soldier just shook his head
and said that other were heading south
to La Paz,
and then they drove away.
⍍
Yesterday, the sun did not rise.
I sent mama and little Felicia to the hills
where tía Elaina and the cousins live.
I said I would stay and watch the farm
and the house
and that they could come back after the fires had burned out.
There is a haze that has settled over our town
sometimes it rolls in like waves off the sea
choking the countryside.
The air is thick with it.
I could not even watch mama and Felicia and the other leave town
because the smoke was so thick.
More have come from the north
their faces black with soot and their eyes bloodstained.
They do not speak.
They do not see.
They do not hear.
They barely breathe.
They take slow steps towards the south.
They mouth wordless curses and choke on the haze.
I do not think they care about the smoke.
Sometimes I think they are made of it themselves.
But the fires will burn out
and mama and Felicia will come down from the hills.
⍍
Last night I heard guns
and cannons
and the sound of men screaming from far away.
I woke up and came outside, and the smoke was so thick
it felt like I was swimming through it.
I saw one of the soldiers from before
only he was covered in oil and missing an arm.
He walked into town from the north
and looked to be heading to the well near the square.
I asked him if he needed water
but he said nothing to me
just mouthed wordless curses.
By the time I had gotten back
he was dead.
His uniform was soaked with blood
and soot.
The gunfire continued throughout the night
but after a while, the only sound I could hear was
grinding iron
and screaming steel.
I saw through the smoke, in the distance,
a mountain of fire and machinery.
Every so often you could see an explosion
as another shell broke on its hide
but another piece moved in to replace the broken one
and the mountain moved on unimpeded.
I saw something like an arm reach out
and grab a vehicle full of soldiers
who could do nothing but stare and hold on to the frame
as they were lifted a mile into the air
and dropped into the fire.
I wanted to go and help -
so many now were crawling towards the sea,
towards water.
But the smoke was thick and I could not breathe,
and darkness took me.
⍔
Today, I awoke to silence.
One of my neighbors, Maria, had found me in the street
and pulled me into her home.
The haze is gone
they say the wind carried it south
with the mountain of fire
towards La Paz.
I walk now but do not see
nor do I hear
nor can I speak.
The hills where tía Elaina and the cousins live
are gone.
The mountain crawled over them
and left nothing in its wake but fires
and smoke.
Nobody is crawling towards the sea now.
All the corpses have stopped moving.
Maria tells me that maybe mama and Felicia escaped
that they were perhaps late in arriving at tía Elaina's house.
She says perhaps they are coming home now.
But she did not see the mountain of fire.
She did not see the engines of damnation.
She did not look into the eyes of death
and feel the heat off its screaming mechanisms.
I know mama and Felicia are not coming home.
I know how they spent their final moments -
praying
burning
choking
suffocating.
They did not escape the mountain of fire
because nothing escaped the mountain of fire.
As for me?
I will tend to the farm
and the house.