Pinto Future | Chapter Four: Baptism

Pinto Future, story elements, and characters TM and © Jeff Harris

The Story So Far... A land where oil is plentiful but water is a rare commodity. A lone warrior known as the Rider has arrived in the desert wasteland that is New York City, filled with rotting buildings and a huge supply of freshwater beneath the headquarters of Camberlin Waters. In the catacombs of the water supply taplines, The Rider released the water back into the reservoirs and main water lines. It all went to plan until he went face-to-face with Melvin Camberlin himself. They went to blows, landing many punches and kicks. Camberlin played dirty and shot The Rider in his rib cage. Wounded, the Rider released a massive burst of energy which caused the glowing water to expand even further than he anticipated, causing the waters to flow quickly and everywhere. The reservoirs and the rivers were reborn and the subways completely flowed into the old river beds. Camberlin drowned in the product that made him a wealthy man while the Rider collapsed in the river he brought back to life.(Chapter Three)

You never know how your world changes, and you're never prepared for it. Think about it for a second.

We're all predisposed to think that life is going to be the same monotonous cycle of events. Wake up, clean yourself, feed yourself, head to work, do your work, finish your work, head home, get fed, have fun if you can, clean yourself, go to bed. Repeat until you retire and/or die. Sometimes, there are deviations in the formula. Some you kind of prepare yourself for, others come as a surprise. Sometimes it's a good surprise. You share a glance with the person of your dreams. You get saluted and rewarded for your good works. You meet someone who will change the rest of your life for the better. Other times, it's a terrible surprise. The person of your dreams breaks up with you. You get fired for petty reasons not even your own fault. You meet someone who will change the rest of your life for the worse.

At an instant, your would and everything you expect life to be could be changed forever. Lincoln thought he was just going to a play that night. Kennedy thought it was just going to be a great day for a parade. The crew of the Apollo 11 had no idea whether their spacecraft would even be safe or if they'd even reach the Earth again if the mission was successful. Hank Aaron had no idea he'd even play in the majors let alone be its home run king.

Truth be told, we're not promised here. This life is not a straight line. Sure, it seems that way, but it's all chance decided by the choices we make, the choices we don't make, and things that are beyond our control. To some people, it's scary. If it wasn't scary, it wouldn't be worth doing.

These are the things that actually make life more interesting than it should be. And it makes life worth living.

I'll never forget that day I met The Rider for the first time. I was leaving a cathedral lighting a candle for my beloved Kara. Loved that woman. Lost her way too soon, and I never put my heart out there to anyone else since. A regret I have in my old age. There had been many times I thought I found love, but this isn't the time for that.

I left the cathedral with a solemn tone. An open heart and a fire in my heart. I was happy. Either that, or it was heartburn. It wasn't a bad feeling at all. As I was walking down the street, I kept hearing murmurs about something miraculous happening that day. It was the first time I saw a lot of people in the streets of Manhattan since the Great Reaction itself. It felt strange, but more importantly, it felt right.

"Did you hear the Manhattan River's back?"

"I thought it was the East River."

"The Harlem's back too! And the Hudson! How the hell did that happen?"

"It must've rained last night."

"C'mon, it doesn't rain anymore. Hasn't rained for years."

"That's nothin'. Did you check out your water taps?"

"No, what happened?"

"Fresh water's flowing through it! It's clean and everything!"

"Get the frack outta here. Camberlin's been selling it for a grip."

"Wonder if he even had anything to do with that at all."

"My daughter called me up this morning telling me she thought she saw the Pinto Rider in town."

"That may explain all of this. But the rivers too? He could do that?"

"Maybe it's just an overflow from Camberlin."

"No way Camberlin had this much water. The city would have floated away."

It went on for most of the afternoon. Just sounds of jubilation and celebration over the fact that they all have clean, fresh drinking water once again. It's a miracle I wanted to see for myself.

I walked down to the Manhattan Canyon's edge. When I got there, I noticed the canyon wasn't there anymore, and the Manhattan River was back in its place. I was floored, completely shocked, and brought down to my knees.

"My God," I whispered. "It's real. The river runs again, clean, clear, full of life."

When I was a kid, the waters were a brownish green hue, mostly from toxins and rust that became a part of its chemical makeup as time and technology evolved. Now, it's clear. You could see straight down and see how crystal clear it really is. It's as much frightening as it is awe-inspiring.

I looked across the river and noticed a figure floating in it. They say if you know how to swim, you'll be able to swim forever. I haven't swam in deep water since I was 15, so, needless to say, 50 years seems like forever, but I didn't hesitate. I leapt into the water and swam towards the figure. I'll admit, it felt odd swimming again. The water was cold and clean. Some got into my mouth. Very clean. Not salty at all. Very fresh. The figure was floating on his back. He was still breathing, but barely, so I carried him on my back, and we swam back to the shore.

I noticed a wound on his side. It was a deep puncture wound that would have killed an ordinary man. The fact that this man was still breathing led me to believe this was no ordinary man.

"T-t-thank you, sir," he murmured to me.

I grabbed his hand.

"Save your strength, son," I told him. "We gotta find a hospital or something."

"No - no time. Just relax." Here he was dying, and he was telling ME to relax. Now I'd seen everything. At least I thought I did. His hand I was holding onto was glowing a bluish-white glow, and that cool energy flowed into my hand. It felt . . . well, have you ever put your whole hand in cold, already set gelatin? You probably shouldn't, but that's how it felt.

"What's going on?!?" I asked in a panicked tone.

"I told you to relax. Put your hand over my wound."

"What? Why?"

"Do you trust me?"

In this life, you learn to trust in two things. God and yourself. People, I rarely trusted, especially after the Reaction, but this guy? There was something calm about him. Something good.

"Yeah." And I placed my glowing hand over his wound. The glow grew, pulling a broken bullet out of his stomach, and healing his wound completely. It looked like nothing was even there. The man opened his eyes and sat up.

"I'm hungry," he said alert and awake. "Where's a good place to get a sandwich? An Italian sausage?"

"Philadelphia," I joked. "But locally, Jake's. It's just up the road."

"C'mon. We'll get lunch. Thanks for saving my life . . . um, what's your name?"

"Bristol. Bristol Levin." We shook hands.

"Good to meet you Bristol Bristol Levin."

"Just Bristol Levin."

"After the President?"

"Oh, God no! No. That president . . . ugh . . . no. Oddly enough, I was named after the paper."

"A newspaper?"

"The art paper. Bristol board. Dad had a strange sense of honor. Wanted his boy to be sturdy, yet manageable. Toothy, yet durable. I wroked with the stuff back in the day. It is great paper."

"So, your dad was right in that regards?"

"Yeah," I chuckled. "He was." I noticed we were walking all the while. I noticed for someone who was near death, he's certainly full of energy.

"Where are we going anyway?"

"Jake's. Or my car. Whichever we find first. It shouldn't be too far."

Here was a man, nearly dead not too long ago, and now we're walking to Jake's or his car, whichever we reached first. We found Jake's first.

He got a pizza slice, the first batch since the water came back. I got the same. We talked for a good while longer. I talked about life in Manhattan. He talked about life on the road, how he found out about this place. The friends me made in this journey. That one time he and a pair of truckers took on a fleet of water tankers and brought a swamp back to life in the process. The Rider told me did what he did today. Who sent him to do it, a woman named Mizu that he respects, almost to the point of liking, but has never met. He even told me his name, out of promise not to tell anyone, at least not at this part in the journey.

I talked seeing the Great Reaction first hand that day. How the Earth completely changed in an instant. The days that followed. The years that followed. The decades we as a country lost our fricken minds. How my family and the community around me took on the challenges, learning to innovate, create, and rebuild. I told him about Kara, a girl I loved, lost, and never forgot.

I learned a lot about this man whose life I just saved. And he learned a lot about me. It was like we've been friends for years. Just a weird situation.

After we was done with lunch, we found his car.

"So, this is where we part ways, huh, stranger?" I asked. He looked at me and opened up the passenger door.

"You've got somewhere you gotta be?" he asked.

"Just enjoying the city. Like I always do. Now freshwater's back, guess I'd enjoy it a lot more."

"Uh-uh, brother Bristol," he replied. "I need to repay you for saving my life today."

"You bought me lunch, and besides, I don't ask for anything for doing good in this world. Wasn't expecting a reward for doing what's right."

The Rider looked towards the road.

"Alright. Join me on this great adventure, my friend. You're a storyteller. A writer. I need someone to tell this story for me. For the cause. Believe it or not, you're a bigger part of it than you realize."

"But . . . Manhattan."

"If you don't do it for me, do it for yourself, Bristol. You have nothing tying you down to this place. This is a trip of a lifetime, and you only live once. If not for me or yourself, at least do it for Kara."

He was right, of course. So, I tossed my bag in the back of the Pinto Wagon, and sat in the passenger's side.

"Where are we off to?" I asked.

"First, a promise to keep from earlier today. I owe a girl in the next town a dinner. Then, wherever the road takes us, Bristol." He pulled off and drove across the Bridge. As the sun began to set, I noticed the sun glistening on the surface of the reborn Manhattan River. It was a beautiful sight and a reminder that the world is a much better place that this guy, the Pinto Rider, is still alive.

And I was glad to be the man who saved him. Now, towards wherever the road leads us. I don't know where we're going to end up, but I do know one thing:

You never know how your world changes, and you're never prepared for it. And it's always an adventure.

End of Chapter Four