Wannaskan Almanac for Tuesday, August 19...The Song Chapter 4

Here is the fourth chapter...enjoy!

Chapter 4:  The Nature of the Turning

The weight of what he'd done pressed down on Elias, an invisible burden that made every breath a conscious effort. He was no longer a reluctant cleaner, a misguided environmental crusader. He was something far more sinister: a destroyer, an accidental eraser of human lives.

He stayed in his secluded grove for days, barely moving, barely eating. The forest, once a place of alien beauty, now felt like a silent judge, its ancient trees bearing witness to his crimes. He couldn't bring himself to use the song, the melody that had once seemed like a gift now a poisoned chalice.

But the world outside was changing, and he couldn't ignore it forever. The animals, growing bolder in the absence of human activity, had begun to encroach on his solitude. He saw deer grazing in what had been his grandmother's garden, foxes sleeping in the ruins of the barn, and once, a majestic bald eagle soaring overhead, a sight he'd never seen in that part of Maine.

The altered world was thriving, teeming with a vibrant, untamed energy. And that's when he began to notice a pattern. The song didn't affect the animals. The deer, the foxes, the eagle, all were untouched. The trees, the flowers, the very earth itself, remained. It was only the works of humans, and humans themselves, that were erased.

The realization sent a shiver down his spine. What did that mean? Was the song trying to tell him something? Was it some kind of… cosmic correction, a way to restore balance to a world thrown out of kilter?

He remembered Nana Maeve's words: "The time before the echoes of man." The song didn't turn things back to a specific date; it turned them back to a state, a condition. A time before humanity had left its indelible mark on the world.

A disturbing thought began to form in his mind, a thought that challenged everything he'd ever believed. Were humans the problem? Was their very existence a blight on the planet, a source of pollution and destruction that the world was trying to cleanse itself of?

He wrestled with the idea, his mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions. He was human. He loved his family, his friends, his life. He cherished the beauty and creativity that humanity had brought into the world: art, music, literature, the very things he himself created.

But he couldn't deny the evidence before his eyes. The transformed world was healthier, more vibrant, more alive than the one he had known. The air was cleaner, the water purer, the forests denser. The absence of human activity had allowed nature to flourish in a way that he had never thought possible.

And then there were the missing people. The scavengers at the dump. Were they truly innocent victims, or were they, in some small way, contributors to the very problem the song was trying to solve? It was a chilling thought, one that forced him to confront the uncomfortable truth about humanity's impact on the planet.

Meanwhile, the search for him was intensifying. The media frenzy surrounding the "Maine disappearances" had attracted the attention of authorities from across the state and beyond. The FBI had joined the investigation, their resources and expertise brought in to unravel the baffling mystery.

They were looking for a cause, a reason, a perpetrator. And in the absence of any other explanation, their suspicions began to fall on those who had been most closely associated with the missing persons and the vanished locations.

Nana Maeve's house was, of course, ground zero. The fact that it had seemingly vanished along with its owner only deepened the mystery. Elias, as her grandson and the one tasked with settling her estate, quickly became a person of interest.

His sudden disappearance only added fuel to the fire. The authorities issued a warrant for his arrest, describing him as "a person of interest in connection with an ongoing investigation." His face, looking bewildered and haunted, was plastered on television screens and newspapers across the state.

He saw one of these broadcasts, a flickering image on a discarded television set half-buried in the undergrowth of what had been a suburban backyard. The image sent a jolt of fear through him. They were looking for him. They were hunting him.

He knew he couldn't stay in the grove forever. He had to move, to find a safer place to hide. But where? And for how long? The altered world offered little in the way of shelter or supplies. He was a fugitive in a land that was both beautiful and hostile, a stranger in a time that wasn't his.

The idea of using the song to protect himself was abhorrent to him. He couldn't bring himself to erase anyone else, even in self-defense. But the thought of being captured, of being imprisoned for crimes he didn't fully understand, was equally terrifying.

He was trapped in a moral dilemma, a prisoner of his own power. He could use the song to defend himself, but at the cost of further destruction. Or he could remain passive, and risk being apprehended, his fate determined by forces he couldn't control.

As he journeyed deeper into the transformed wilderness, he began to see signs that he wasn't entirely alone. He found traces of other vanished humans: a rusted can, a tattered piece of clothing, a crumbling foundation half-hidden beneath a carpet of moss.

These remnants of a lost world filled him with a profound sadness. He thought of all the lives that had been lived in this place, the families, the communities, the stories that had been erased by the song. It was a sobering reminder of the power he wielded, and the responsibility that came with it.

He came to a high ridge overlooking a vast expanse of forest. From this vantage point, he could see for miles, a seemingly endless tapestry of green stretching to the horizon. It was a breathtaking sight, a testament to the resilience and beauty of nature.

But it was also a reminder of what had been lost. Somewhere beneath that verdant canopy lay the remnants of human civilization, the towns, the cities, the roads, the houses, all turned back to dust and trees.

He sat on the ridge for hours, lost in thought, the wind whipping around him. He had to make a decision. He couldn't continue to drift aimlessly through this altered world, a fugitive haunted by his past.

He looked out at the endless forest, a world reclaimed by nature, a world where humans were no longer the dominant species. And for the first time, he began to wonder if that was such a bad thing.

As always, you can read the whole story here in the Almanac, or if you want you can find it here.