Medicine

By Morgan Nyberg

Into the ruins of a dead city, Fraser, a huge man with a huge heart, ventures in search of medicine for his mother. Waiting for him is a shabby dystopia where prisoners fight to the death to entertain their overlord. Could it be here that Fraser’s medicine is hidden? You’ll wish you could tell Fraser to turn back as his reckless determination drives him deeper and deeper into the mouth of danger.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Morgan Nyberg
• Release date: Feb 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9780986817342

Morgan Nyberg

Reviewers have said of Morgan Nyberg’s Raincoast novels:"One of the best series in the post-apocalyptic genre, hands down.""An exquisitely formed vision of a broken world.""On a par with McCarthy's The Road.""The best I've read in a post-apocalyptic setting.""This book (Since Tomorrow) stunned me with its power and richness."“Far and away the best of its genre.”Before writing the Raincoast series Nyberg had been a poet (The Crazy Horse Suite), an award-winning children’s author (Galahad Schwartz and the Cockroach Army; Bad Day in Gladland) and a literary novelist (El Dorado Shuffle; Mr. Millennium). He had worked and lived in Canada, Ecuador and Portugal. He was teaching English in the Sultanate of Oman when he felt the need to confront in fictional form the ecological crisis facing Planet Earth. The Raincoast Saga, many years in the making, is the magnificent result.

Book preview

MEDICINE

MORGAN NYBERG

Volume 4

THE RAINCOAST SAGA

MEDICINE

An ancient man, Oriental in appearance and wrapped in a rabbit-skin shawl, stood in the open door of a shed. Gazing into the dark interior he said Last one.

Behind him stood a tall and broad-shouldered man in a wool poncho and patched canvas trousers. He was young and handsome and wore a sorrowful expression. He said I’ll trap some wild ones and put em in with this one. We’ll have rabbits up the ass in no time.

The old man, Wing, looked up into the mournful face. Rabbits up the ass? He shook his head, said Jesus, Fraser and returned to his contemplation of the rabbit crouched in the middle of the shed’s floor. No use tryin to trap none. Cause there’s hardly none left. The wild ones pretty well all died off just like our ones.

Fraser said What do you think done it?

Wing shrugged. Some rabbit disease. They’re dyin off just like us humans.

The rabbit twitched a dozen times. In the light from the door its eyes flashed pink. It fell onto its side and was still.

Wing pushed past Fraser. So that’s it for the rabbits.

We still got the chickens.

Close the door. Here come the dogs.

The fastest of the three was halfway through the door before Fraser could close it. With one hand he jammed the door against the scrabbling animal. With the other he grabbed its collar and hauled it backward. Bear, get back. He closed and hooked the door.

Wing said They’ve lost all their manners now that they got to hunt for their own food.

I guess we better start huntin too.

You want to hunt rats like the dogs do? You want to hunt spiders? I seen em fightin over a spider the other day.

I’ll take my bow out into the delta and shoot a coyote.

Are coyotes edible?

"What’s edible?"

It means can you eat em.

Don’t see why not.

The two men walked away from the shed. Wing had a stick of peeled maple, but he also held Fraser’s arm. Behind them the dogs scratched at the door.

Fraser said At least we can eat spuds.

To which the dogs ain’t partial.

"What’s partial?"

It means they don’t like em. Will you bury the rabbit?

OK.

Bury it deep so’s the dogs don’t dig it up.

OK.

They walked toward another shed, made of concrete blocks like the first one but with a yard of bare earth enclosed by chicken wire.

Fraser said And at least we got eggs.

For a while. Until the hens catch somethin and die off like the rabbits. The rooster died whiles you were away. So we’re not gettin any more chicks.

I shouldn’t never of went.

You think you could of kept the rabbits from gettin sick? Think you could of kept the rooster from croakin? No, it’s good you went, Fraser, even if you never found a new place for the farm. Cause if you would of stayed here maybe you’d be dead too. Like Daniel. Like Moon. Like .... Wing’s voice, weak and powdery to start with, faded. He looked at the ground, shaking his head.

At the chicken run they stood watching the hens scratch

Wing said One egg each every second day. Is one egg every second day enough to keep you strong?

Strong enough.

They fed you good up north, though. At that farm.

Yeah, real good.

They had chickens and a horse and a cow and a ton of vegetables and good soil and lots a water. Am I right?

You bringin this up again?

And they said we ought to come and live with em.

I ain’t listenin to this.

And they don’t got malaria or a shitload of diseases killin em off like we got here.

I don’t want to go over it no more.

But still you .... Never mind, Fraser. You got your reasons.

They were quiet, watching the hens scratch, listening to their creaking squawks. When they heard a man’s voice they turned toward a tall, tilted building a hundred yards away. A man leapt down the steps at the entrance. He was beardless, short haired, good looking, of middle age. In an awkward lope he ran toward Fraser and Wing.

Wing said It’s like lookin after a five-year-old.

Well, he couldn’t stay on at Fundy’s, could he? With all the others dead over there.

The man hollered Fraser! Fraser!

Fraser called Go back and get your poncho. Don’t you know you got to wear your poncho when it’s cold?

The man, Solomon, appeared not to hear. When he arrived he hooked his fingers into the chicken wire and produced an imitation of their squawking that made the birds quit scratching and listen.

Fraser said Go on back and get it. You’ll freeze out here.

Solomon grabbed a fistful of Fraser’s poncho, brought his face close and declared in a moaning drawl Noor don’t feel good.

Wing said Noor’s all right, Solomon. Come on, let’s go get your poncho. Let me hold your arm so’s I don’t fall.

Solomon would not let go of Fraser’s poncho. "Noor feels strange. What does that mean? What does strange mean?"

Don’t bother Fraser, now. Let’s go get your poncho.

Fraser pried Solomon’s fingers loose and stood gazing toward the river, over the expanse of the farm’s graveyard. I know that, Solomon. I know Momma feels strange. You don’t got to tell me ten times a day.

"Strange is bad, ain’t it? I don’t want Noor to feel bad."

Wing reached to take Solomon’s arm. Let’s talk about it whiles we go get your poncho.

Solomon shouted No! and pushed Wing, who fell. As Wing sat there on the wet ground Solomon yelled I ain’t cold! I hate you!

Fraser helped Wing up and retrieved his stick for him. You’re a bad boy, Solomon. Look what you done to Wing.

Solomon started to bawl and flapped his arms.

Wing said You glad you come home, Fraser?

Fraser walked away toward the graveyard. Wing watched him go. Solomon stamped his foot a few times, stopped crying, leaned sniffling against the chicken wire and was soon imitating the hens again.

Fraser passed under the rapid transit line that swooped down onto the farm, and threaded his way through the graves until he stood above the river. On the other side, beyond the olive-grey rush of the current, rose the south slope of a ruined metropolis. To his right a wooden railway trestle spanned the river, and just beyond it loomed a concrete bridge.

The day was clear and windy. A dozen of the remaining leaves on the riverbank willows tore away, settled on the water and were swept seaward. When Fraser turned from the forbidding prospect of Town - the erosion gullies plunging toward the river, the husks of buildings spotting the forest of young conifers like the remnants of a disfigurement - he saw that four people, Wing, Solomon, Noor and Winter were approaching. Wing was holding Solomon’s arm. As Fraser watched the devastated population of Frost’s farm draw near he bent forward as if the whole weight of his great-grandfather’s bridge was settling upon his shoulders.

He met the group among some graves that had not yet grown over with grass.

Solomon said Fraser! Fraser! Noor feels strange!

Noor said I’m fine, Solomon. Don’t bother Fraser.

But you were cryin.

I’m fine now.

Noor was a tall woman, dark skinned like Fraser, her son. But whereas Fraser’s hair and beard were blond her own hair was black, heavily streaked with grey. The face was haughty, but sadness overfilled the green eyes.

Solomon stepped closer to Fraser and whispered Is Winter havin a baby?

Winter said You know I am, Solomon. She was Fraser’s age, with generous lips and wide cheekbones. Although the dark eyes smiled, the lips retained a natural frown. She lifted her poncho, under which she wore a beaded deerskin dress. Solomon placed a hand on the swelling.

Is there a baby in there?

Winter said Yes.

Who’s gonna be its daddy?

Fraser is. You know that.

Can’t I be its daddy?

Noor said Go and get your poncho, Solomon.

OK, Noor. In his awkward lope he headed back toward the tall building.

Noor said to Winter You’ll be a good momma.

Winter put her arm around Noor’s waist and leaned her head against her shoulder. You were a good momma. You still are. You brung Fraser up good.

Noor knelt at one of the new graves. Grass had begun to creep in from the edges, but most of the mound was bare. On this she placed a hand. Here’s my other child. I brought her up good too. In spite of her daddy.

Winter said I know, Noor. You don’t got to ....

There’s Moon. Spring. Salmon. Deas. Arthurlaing. Kingsway. Night. Daniel’s dead too, but his grave is the river. They went so fast, while you were gone, Fraser. Good people, all good people. Not like Blaine. She stood. He’s dead now too, isn’t he, Fraser? Your daddy.

Fraser said nothing.

I’m glad. Now he can’t hurt anybody. He went so crazy. Crazy, crazy, crazy. Didn’t he, Wing?

Wing said That’s all past now. It’s best if you don’t ....

Crazy, crazy, crazy. And I’m crazy too. Because he gave it to me. Gave me the syphilis. Maybe I’ll catch the sickness that killed these friends of mine. Maybe I’ll catch it and die. I hope I do. So I don’t have to watch anyone else die. And so you don’t have to watch me get worse, Fraser. Crazier and crazier and crazier. Or maybe ....

Fraser said No, Momma. We ain’t goin north.

Maybe we could go north. North to that farm you found. Maybe I won’t be crazy on that farm you found.

Fraser said with both resignation and anguish I can’t go back there. Too much bad stuff happened. We’d never make it anyways. We talked about this a hundred times. Please don’t ask me no more.

Winter hugged Fraser as she had hugged Noor. She rubbed his chest and went Shh.

Noor said People don’t die there like they do here. Here Death comes walking across the bridge from Town any time it wants. Comes walking onto what’s left of Frost’s farm, says ‘Let’s go, Aisha. Let’s go, Daniel. Let’s go, Moon.’

Wing said We better stop askin Fraser to do that, Noor. Fraser gots his reasons. Winter gots her reasons.

Winter said I do, yes. We ain’t goin back there.

Noor said We’ll all die here, then. Winter, your child will die here.

Fraser said Momma, don’t say that. Please.

You’ll watch me get crazier, and we’ll all die. I hope I go first. I couldn’t stand to see Fraser die. Or my grandchild. Or any of you.

She swept a hand palm-outward, as if blessing the array of plastic-covered grave markers winking through the windblown grass.

This is what’s left of Frost’s farm. This is the one crop that just keeps growing. But soon this crop will fail too. I’ll tell you something, though. I’m going to make sure I’m not the last one. The one that doesn’t get buried. The one that gets left for the coyotes. The rats. The crows and Old Ben the raven.

Fraser, Winter and Wing listened in pained silence.

Cause the last thing I see in the world is going to be something good. It’s going to be the faces of my friends. My son. My new daughter. My best friend Wing. Poor Solomon, who has loved me for thirty years even though I never gave him a reason to. But I’ll take a chance and wait for a while. I will. Because I want to see my grandchild. Once I see my grandchild I think I’ll be able to hope again. That maybe we’ve still got a chance. That maybe things can get better. That’s all I want before I go. To be able to hope. So don’t die before that, OK? - any of you.

Winter said You’ll see your grandchild, Noor.

A gust of wind blew Noor’s hair over her face. She clawed it away. She had a strange smile.

Fraser said Momma ....

Noor wagged a finger. So if Death comes walking across the bridge one of these days. One of these nights. If Death comes up to you while you’re feeding the hens. In the middle of the night when you can’t sleep. If Death comes up and says ‘Let’s go, Fraser’, ‘Let’s go, Winter’, ‘Let’s go, Wing’ - if Death does that, you just ask Death, ask it nicely, if it can please wait awhile. Because Noor needs you to stay alive until her grandchild gets born.

She was beaming. There was a wild light in her eyes. I think maybe Death will listen. Because Death knows me. We’re old friends. It knows how I respect its work, how I dug so many of these graves to show off its work, how my grandfather dug the rest before me. Death will do me that favour, I know it will.

Noor threw back her head and laughed. But she stopped as if someone had slapped her. She clasped her hands to her mouth. I’m getting worse.

Wing put a hand on her shoulder. Come and walk with me for a bit. It ain’t so bad. Let’s go and sit on a rock by the river, see what the river gots to say.

She just stood there, stricken.

Fraser was shaking his head and sobbing.

Solomon came running. Noor! Noor, what’s wrong? He tripped over the grave marker of Noor’s brother, Will, crawled forward and sat beside the newer grave of her daughter, Aisha, on the other side of which stood Noor, now sobbing as loudly as her son. Solomon was wearing his poncho. He roared and tore earth from the grave and slapped it against his face.

2

Wing said Don’t lay there.

How come?

That’s Daniel’s hammock. Every time I look at it I see Daniel layin there. If I see you layin there I’ll start to think you’re gonna die too. And I can’t afford to think that.

You want me to take it out?

No, leave it there. Daniel’s good company when I’m alone.

I come to the door yesterday, but I never come in, cause I heard you talkin to him.

That’s embarrassin.

Fraser rose from the hammock. He watched it swing as if he too could see Daniel Charlie lying there.

In a corner near the door Wing was perched on a stool made of two-by-fours. His wisp of beard and the white hair hanging over his shoulders glowed in the dimness. His shawl of rabbit skins had slipped off to reveal a tattered warmup jacket of crimson satin. Me and Daniel were discussin the Good Times. He was tellin me hows he use to work on his uncle’s gillnetter up the river. Uncle Nathan Jim. Catchin salmon. I heard about his uncle’s gillnetter a thousand times already, but I never interrupt him. Uncle Nathan Jim, Uncle Nathan Jim. Catchin salmon, catchin salmon. Wing shook his head, chuckled. In one hand he held his stick, leaning on it to keep himself balanced. In the other he held a mug missing its handle.

Daniel talks to you? Fraser looked sharply at the hammock, which was barely moving now.

Wing held out his mug. Fraser took from the workbench a plastic bottle half full of clear liquid. He poured some into Wing’s mug, took a swallow himself, grimaced, set the bottle back on the bench.

Course he talks to me. I couldn’t make him shut up if I tried.

When I stopped outside the door you were laughin.

Was I? Yeah, Daniel could make me laugh. The last time I seen him he got me laughin like hell.

The last time you seen him .... But that was ....

Yeah, but up until the second he fell off the barge he had me howlin. He was drunk. Doin his circle dance. Chantin his chant. Wavin his eagle feather. Cracked me up. Then the son-of-a-bitch fell over the edge. Then that mutt Useless jumped in to save him, and they both .... Wing squinted at the hammock. Daniel? Why’d you leave me, man? His frail voice cracked.

Fraser sniffed back a tear and turned to look out the shop’s grimy window at the gloom of a winter forenoon. The two men were quiet for a while. Soon there was a patter of rain on the roof.

Wing said Remember that day when we first talked about goin north?

Fraser turned back from the window.

Wing said We were all here in Daniel’s shop. Drinkin just like now. You, me, Daniel, Airport, 99.

I remember.

We thought things could get better, thought if yous went north, found a better place far away from Town .... Your great-grampa Frost thought if we worked together, if we worked hard, we could bring back the Good Times. And now .... He took a drink. I guess you noticed the smell when you come back - that smell whenever there’s a north wind.

Same as when I left.

There can’t be many people alive in Town no more. It takes a lot of dead people to make a smell like that.

Once spring comes we’ll head east. We don’t got no other choice. West there’s only the saltchuck. We can’t go south wheres there’s bound to be more muliria. In spring, once the baby’s born we’ll all head east. I’ll be rested by then.

You don’t look like you need rest.

Fraser offered the bottle. Wing shook his head. Fraser took a drink, stared for a while at the dusty concrete floor. It’s the things I done.

You done what you needed to.

I never needed to hit 99. He was my bestest friend. I busted his brain, Wing. Up there on that wonderful farm you and Momma are always wantin to go to. Now he ain’t got the brains of a dog. Bear is twice as smart as him. He can’t even talk. He just makes squealin noises with spit runnin down his chin. He don’t even know it’s me that done it. He looks at me ... looks at me like I’m the most wonderfullest .... That’s how come I can’t go back there. I can’t even stand to remember him lookin at me like that, when I’m the one that done it. Once I can stand rememberin, we’ll pack up our stuff and head east. In spring. Once the baby’s born.

You hit 99 cause he killed your daddy.

Fraser shrugged. He done what I should of did. He begged me to do it all along. Begged me to kill Daddy, who was even crazier than Momma thinks. He killed Airport. He killed Cloud.

I know, Fraser. You don’t got to ....

Thought Cloud was my emeny even though she was my woman. Thought she had plans to kill me even though he known her since she was a girl. I ought to of listened to 99.

No one kills their own daddy.

So 99 done what I should of did. And to thank him I busted his brain.

He was quiet for a few minutes. Winter’s good to me. She talks to me, helps me sleep when I can’t. He started to smile, then bowed his head and sobbed quietly.

Jesus, Fraser. Wing slid off his stool but lost his balance. He waved his stick. The mug fell and shattered.

Fraser rushed to steady him.

Wing said Too much hooch.

Come and lay down.

Daniel’s there.

He’ll shove over.

Fraser eased Wing into the hammock, which was supported in a frame of two-by-fours that occupied the centre of the shop. He got the shawl and laid it over him.

You’re a good boy, Fraser. You’ll be fine come spring. You’ll get things sorted out. Don’t let it swing, eh. Things are swimmin enough as it is.

They looked fully at one another, as if each understood that he was thinking the same thought as the other.

At last Fraser spoke. What Momma said.

I know.

"That she’s just waitin for the baby to come, and then .... Do you think she’ll do it?’

I know she will.

Even if we go east?

That won’t stop her gettin crazier. You seen what happened to your daddy.

She won’t kill no one like he done

No, just herself. She can’t stand you seein her like that. And she won’t hang around in case she ends up bein the last one alive. She’ll just wait for the baby, and then ....

Fraser gathered the shards of Wing’s mug and stood there holding them as he again looked out the window. The day had grown darker. Soon Wing’s snores blended with the roar of the rain on the roof.

But the snoring stopped and Wing said Your trip north wasn’t no disaster. You got a child comin, the first one this farm’s seen in more than twenty years. But there’s one more thing, too. One important thing you learnt on that trip.

Fraser looked down at the slight form under the brown-grey skins, waited.

You learnt to kill.

That ain’t good, Wing. That ain’t good at all.

I’m pretty god damn sure what you done on that trip was only a start.

It ain’t no start. I ain’t doin no more killin.

It’s bad times, Fraser. It’s as bad as times can get. We got to have someone who’s good at it.

I ain’t doin no more killin!

Don’t shout. Look what you done.

Blood was seeping between the fingers of Fraser’s clenched hand. He spilled the shards onto the workbench, pressed a thumb against the cut.

Wing said Did you know we had medicine once?

I got to rest, Wing. I can’t fuckin sleep. I ain’t killin no one.

OK, whatever you say. But did you know we had medicine once?

Yeah, I heard that.

When your great-grampa was alive, after we had that war with Langley, we got a lot of medicine from Langley’s house out by Skagger’s Bridge. Help me sit up.

Fraser used his good hand to help him swing his legs over the edge of the hammock and stand. He handed him his stick. Looking at the bloodied shards on the bench Wing said Blaine was kind of crazy even before he got the syphilis. Especially when he was drinkin.

I know. You don’t got to tell me about my own daddy.

This was befores you were born. He got into a hell of a argument with Noor. He’d been drinkin of course. He was jealous of everybody on the farm - jealous of Frost’s memory too, jealous that he wasn’t there when we beat Langley. So he got into a hell of a argument with Noor, and he grabbed that bag of pills we got from Langley’s place, and he jumped on that wild god damn stallion he use to have, and he goes racin up the bridge. We were all workin in the potato field except for him and Noor. We hear him shoutin. Yeah, he wanted our attention. We seen him at the top of the bridge. We seen that crazy horse rear up like it use to do, and he’s screamin with laughter and swingin the bag around his head. And sure enough, there it goes. Into the river.

99 done a good thing when he killed him.

Wing tugged at Fraser’s poncho. What I’m leadin up to is this. If Langley got that medicine from somewheres in Town, maybe there’s more. I know it was twenty-some years ago, but ....

Fraser thought this over. Medicine?

You can’t make the damage go away. But you can keep it from gettin worse.

There were pounding footsteps outside. Solomon burst through the plastic sheets of the doorway. Bear, Red and Mouse followed, wagging their tails and barking as Solomon yelled Fraser! Noor feels strange!

3

Winter whispered Are you sleepin?

No.

Winter’s voice was ragged with sleep. Fraser’s was clear.

She said Come on, then and rolled toward him. He lifted his head enough for her to slip her arm under it. She rubbed his chest.

The polyethylene that covered the window had paled.

He said It’s mornin. I’ll sleep now.

Good. You sleep.

She let her hand rest on his chest. With the rumble of his first snores she began to slide her arm from under his head.

But he said What’s that?

What? I don’t hear ....

Shh.

From outside came a shrieking of chickens.

He was halfway down the absolute blackness of the stairwell before he heard Solomon’s Fraser! Fraser! and then Wing’s What the hell? At the bottom, by the glass door of the building, Noor waited.

Don’t worry, Momma.

Then he was outside, naked in the fierce colours of a winter dawn.

The shrieking of the hens had subsided to a noisy squawking. He found the door of the coop wide open. He made out the huddled forms on their roost. He hooked the door and scanned the area. In the distance the thief , with the spread wings of his plunder swinging from his hand, was heading toward the old highway. He disappeared behind some fir saplings.

The domicile - the building that housed the surviving residents of Frost’s farm - stood at a dangerous slant, a tilted black slab against the dawn’s light. In front of it Noor, Winter and Solomon stood in the mud, all barefoot, all wrapped in throws of rabbit pelts. Wing came out and called in his powdery voice Do you know you don’t got no clothes on? His admonition was buried by Solomon’s excited howling.

In seconds Fraser was standing in the highway among shoulder-high broom bushes. Between him and his great-grandfather’s bridge nothing moved. The span itself seemed to be empty. But there was plenty of cover, especially on the highway - young conifers, mounds of blackberry, brush both leafless and evergreen. To the south the overgrown road ran on into the delta.

He saw nothing in either direction. Solomon’s distant wailing stopped. The only sounds were the hens’ diminishing squawks and the comment of a raven somewhere over Town. He stepped