Theodore was excited as he left through the back flap of the tent for the last time. He was the last one out of the tent, and did a quick look around before he left to ensure they did not leave anything behind. This would be his last time in the tent, a place he and his friends had lived in for the past fifteen years. While the tent moved a few times a year, after the move, they always lived in the same tent set up the same way. The amount of stuff they kept had grown over the years as they kept parts of clothing or knickknacks they found during their chores. They were always picking stuff up during the day. It was like whoever had lived on the land before had left little treasures around waiting to be found.

The tent itself was longer than it was wide. The canvas walls and floor at one time were a light tan color, but after years of use had darkened into a dull gray orange. There were large patches along the inside and outside of the tent walls. The patches were made from old clothing that had torn and had not been worth passing down to the next children. Some of the clothing seemed to cycle through children, passed down from one grubby hand to the next, year after year. The children only a year apart could dress exactly the same, as if they were clones. The next year’s class would literally step into the clothing of the previous year’s class as if nothing changed except the length of their orange stained hair.

They had packed almost everything left in the tent. There were small piles of unusable clothing or belongings that were too long to carry with them. Samuel had been silent the entire time they had been packing. The only words he contributed were to warn the rest of them that they should not bring items that were too heavy. He did not want to leave too much evidence of their passing. Melinda had pointed out that the snow would likely keep their tracks for a long time, and whatever items they ended up leaving by the side of the road would likely not make a difference in being tracked.

“If they want to find us,” Melinda assured the others. “They will find us. I do not think they will want to find us. Call me a cynic but it just seems our leaving will be less mouths to feed.”

The rest of them did not argue the point. They hoped Melinda was correct. They did not think they could outrun guards who knew where they were going better than them. The best they could hope for was a head start. The bigger question that nobody spoke about was where they were heading. They knew it was the same direction as where the line of people they had seen the previous day was heading. What they did not know was where it led, and if they would be welcome wherever they ended up. If they were not, then their trip would be very short. Theodore was unsure whether their food supply would last enough time for a return trip, and even if it did, whether they would be welcomed back to the tent city.

But even with the two large elephants in the middle of the room, the group was excited as they left through the back of the tent. It was the unknown. Their entire lives had happened in the tent city. Even when they went outside to do their chores or to farm, it was always within the boundaries of the tent city as set out by the guards that surrounded the corners of the camp. Here they were about to break those boundaries for the first time. Only Melinda, who’s explorations went further and further afield each day, had ever broken through the boundaries and seen what was out there.

“There is not much there,” she had confided in them. “It is as dusty and empty as the areas around our camp. I would not be surprised to climb up that mountain and to find more dust.”

“What about the trees?” Trident asked. Trident always liked trees and living things. She had used old clay mugs to pot small flowers she found about the farm area and in the tent city. The flowers were always small when she found them, and she would use the clay pieces to add soil and fertilizer. She tended them and watered them until the flowers bloomed much larger than they had in the wild. She also found small reptiles that she rescued from the barren lands around and in the tent city. The reptiles died after a few days regardless of Trident’s efforts to keep them alive. Her flowers did much better. They disappeared often from the area around the front of their tent. Trident never seemed to mind or question who took them. She would find another piece of pottery and begin the process anew, locating a small bud or bulb and planting the flowers in the clay pot until they bloomed.

Melinda was never satisfied by Trident’s response to the theft. She felt that the flowers were Trident’s flowers, and therefore Melinda’s, as everything in a tent belonged to all the children in that tent. Melinda spent many hours during her exploration tracking down what became of the flowers. She found that it was mostly the older children that took them to their area in the camp. Except when looking after the younger children, and visiting close tents where their friends lived, they did not approach the area around the older children’s camps. If they had, they would have found the place blooming with flowers in broken clay pots.

Melinda knew, however. She had explored all parts of the tent city, including the older children’s tents. The older children left the plants Trident potted in the old chipped mugs and bowls outside of their tents. They tended them, watered them, and watched over them. Melinda was surprised at how long they spent with the flowers. The children spent a lot of their time tending the farms that they planted around the tent city before moving on to their next location. It seemed strange that so many of the older children spent so much time watching over the little flowers that Trident would plant.

Melinda caught them cleaning the flowers off in the mornings of the orange dust that would coat everything outside their tent. They would stare at the beautiful colors of the flower before carefully placing them down near the outside of the tent. The older children would file out of the camp, and each of them would take a long look at the small flowers that they had taken from Trident. Melinda could never figure it out, but Trident always knew. It was the color. In a world of orange, a white flower was a welcome novelty that represented that there was a world outside of the monotony of the orange dust.

After Theodore tied down the rear flap of the tent, he found the other children crouched down a few tents northward. He shouldered his sack and set off after them. They seemed anxious to start moving.

The camp was surprisingly silent. They were whispering about this when Theodore arrived.

“I expected there to be an uproar after Theodore had knocked down the old lady,” Trident said.

The rest quickly agreed.

“Perhaps they have not found her yet,” Samuel offered. They did not think that likely. When they had ran away, Theodore had seen the old lady rising and began ambling off after them. They had discussed what that meant and whether they should take the time to pack. While they decided to pack, they kept waiting for the front flap to fly open. That it did not worried them.

“You know,” Theodore said as they walked through the back of the camp. “There never is an uproar in the tents.” Nobody was in a disagreeable mood, but Theodore felt some eyes rolling. He continued, “The only time there was a semblance of disobedience was caused by the older children. The old women and the guards never got involved. The old children would get a group of them together and come down hard on the younger children. But that was an exception and not at the request of the old women or the guards. They never participated in such events.”

Trident nodded her head slightly at Theodore’s explanation. The rest were lost in their own thoughts. They were leaving the tent city and they were all nervous in their own ways where their journey would lead.

They arrived at the edge of the tent city where Theodore had faced off against the old women what seemed a long time ago. Theodore realized it had not been more than a couple of hours. They all felt the fatigue that came from a sleepless night. It was still dark and the orange dust lay heavy on the earth. The visibility was limited.

Melinda led them past the last tent and toward the bank of trees that started the forest. They bunched up as they ran across the open space. After a few paces Melinda looked back and slowed down to a walk.

“With the dust heavy and the darkness,” Melinda said. “There won’t be much that the guards can see. Anyway, at this time of night, the guards are almost never awake. I am not even sure why they bother keep watch over the edge of the camp. They never seem to be around to actually watch anything.”

“What about the rumors of invaders?” Theodore asked.

“Rubbish,” Trident assured him. “For all their talk, there has never been an invasion in the fifteen years we have been there. They use those stories to scare us.

Theodore nodded in agreement as they continued to walk toward the edge of the forest. The forest was surprisingly far away and it took them the better part of an hour for the ground to transition away from the rich red soil that they used to do their farming to the moss-covered grass that signaled the beginning of the forest. They had seen this area from the camp, which was a bit higher than the forested area, at least on this part of the journey. Up close, the grass was not very thick and there was more orange dust than grass as it was mostly bald by the strong winds that blew over the area. The weather warmed a bit as they moved into the forested area.

“The trees grow much thicker about fifteen minutes ahead,” Melinda said.

“ How far have you gone?” Trident asked.

“I have been to the base of the trees,” Melinda said.

“Did you ever want to keep going?” Trident asked.

Melinda did not hesitate when she answered. “Every time,” she said simply. Melinda often wondered what was inside of the forest and where the older children went when they left the camp. She had wanted to follow them, but she did not want to leave her tent friends behind. They would have to cover for her and that was not acceptable. At least that was always what she told herself. She wondered if the real reason was her own fears. She pushed those down as she picked up the pace to make it to the forest.

“Once we are in the forest, we can make for the path,” Melinda said. “We’ll need to find a place for lunch, and then walk through the rest of the day.”

“If we can find the path,” Theodore said. Nobody answered as they all put their heads down and tightened the wraps around their mouths. With the morning sunlight, the orange dust storms would strengthen as the winds picked up. There could be no pursuit for at least a few hours until the storm passed. The pursuers would have no idea what direction they were heading until it cleared up. And even after it cleared up, they may not know where they headed, as the dust storm did one good thing: it completely hid their path. While those thoughts were great to ponder, they also knew they would have to spend the next two hours walking through the dust storm where normally they would be hiding in their tents, their bellies full of warm breakfast, while the storm passed over and pounded against the tent canvas.

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