Ely's Last Chance [A Tale of Yesterville]

[Hippin_in_Hawaii 639]

Ely’s Last Chance

“Eeeeeeeeee-lyyyYYYYY!” The shrill note wound its way up the stairs, down the corridor, around the corner, and through the door into Ely’s room. “EEEEEEEEEEEEEE-LYYyyyyyyyy!” followed on its heels.

Ely sighed. Setting down the carving he’d been working on, taking advantage of the afternoon light passing through the window, he turned and headed to the source of the disruption. He worried that if he delayed too long, the shrill noise may well cause the building to collapse. Trotting down the stairs, he saw his mother at work behind the counter, sorting items just taken in as part of a trade.

“Ely, did you get those new crates moved up here like your momma asked?”

“No, Mo,” responded Ely.

“Hai, an’ why not?”

“Mo, ain’t noone gonna trade for some sixty year old cans of pork and beans,” responded Ely. “Like as not, they’re just cans of painful death. Best case is they’re cans of unpleasant diarrhea. We oughta just chuck ‘em.”

“Listen at who’s an expert on running the Last Chance, now. You go an’ do what your momma told ya! An what was you doin’ up there anyways, in the middle o’ the day?”

“I was working on a carving, Mo.” Ely became more animated. “I found this amazing branch in the stream last fall. It’s got this giant knot, and the grain is so lovely! I been hanging it in the cellar to dry, and it’s ready to work. There’s a beautiful woman hiding inside!”

Ely’s mother nodded. Her son’s carvings always fetched a good trade, from those with the abundance to spend on luxuries. “Alright, you get back to your carving. That’ll fetch more than some mouldy old beans. I’ll getcher pa to work on them.”

As Ely trotted back up the stairs, he heard his mother summoning his dad: “EEEEeeeee-lyyyYYYY!!” It was amazing to Ely that he, his father, and his grandfather, all of whom were named Ely, could always tell for whom the yell was intended. It seemed to Ely (Ely IV, for reference) that this time, the yell didn’t even follow him up the stairs.

South of Yesterville and Oldtown, at the foot of the mountains, just before the tunnel that leads to the rest of the world, stands Ely’s Last Chance. Years ago, in the Before, Ely’s had been a tourist trap. It was a snare designed to pry a few dollars more from the depleted wallets of weary travellers heading home from their vacations, but perhaps short of trinkets to share with their friends. Specializing in kitsch, knicknacks, and a wide variety of snacks and sugary caffeinated beverages, it wasn’t the sort of place one would expect to survive an apocalypse.

It was, however, a fairly imposing edifice, made of quarried stone, a scale model of what Castle Yesterday was intended to become. As such, it was also a popular photo-op. Well, it had been, Before.

Ely III had been enjoying a good sit out on the covered porch with his dad, Ely Jr. They both had their pipes going and were pretending they could blow smoke rings.

“How’d that one look, son?” asked the eldest Ely.

“Damned near perfect, Pa,” lied Ely. “And it’s still going strong! Lookit, practically out to the fence!” The elder Ely’s eyes weren’t terribly useful anymore, so like any loving son, Ely felt free to lie to his father in ways to keep his spirits high.

“EEEEeeeee-lyyyYYYY!!”

“She’s callin you, son,” said the older Ely. “Mind, when she’s done with you, maybe fetch your old man back a pint?”

“Soon’s I can, Pa,” chuckled Ely, setting his pipe on table beside the rocker.

Ely’s wife had a name, but no one had used it since she was a wee thing. She’d had a speech impediment, and the closest to pronouncing her own name she could ever manage was “Mo.” Not wanting her to be self-conscious about her speech, her grandfather also called her “Mo.” Ely (the original) took it up, as did her parents and the other denizens of the Last Chance. Years later, after she’d learned to speak correctly, it never occurred to her that there was anything wrong with “Mo.”

“Whatcha need, my flower?”

Mo blushed. “Hai, an you’re a sweet-tongued devil, you are!”

Ely chuckled. “Hai, an that’s why ya love me!”

“Oh, don’t be workin’ your charms now, dearest. I need you to get below and start pulling up them cases of pork and beans.”

Ely thought for a second. “Expectin’ a caravan?”

Mo nodded. “Hestor was just through, said he passed one on the road a few days’ ride to the south. Caravans love canned goods from Before. Always someone somewhere to find ‘em precious!”

“You thinking we need the whole lot?”

“Nah, maybe bring up a dozen cases. Enough to make sure and catch their eye. If’n they’re interested, we can get them to do the rest o’ the heavy lifting.”

Ely nodded. Mo really was sharp when it came to running the Last Chance. He turned and headed for the cellar door.

Back on the porch, Ely Jr. tried to keep his pipe going, but it was determined to go out. So, he knocked the dottle into the palm of his hand, flung it towards the yard, and began packing a new bowl. Most of it he could do by touch, although lighting it without burning himself proved a challenge. His eyes really weren’t worth much anymore, but he was getting old. He’d only been five when the Winds of Death had swept the world clean; he was 65 now, give or take a year or three.

Word was that the sorcerer Ralphie up at Castle Yesterday could probably help him. But, like so many of the denizens of the Last Chance, Ely had never left. And Ralphie would not come here. The sorcerer had tried a few times, when Ely was in his teens, but always stopped before getting too close. At his last attempted visit, roughly 50 years ago, Ralphie had planted a red post in the ground, about 300 paces from the Last Chance’s front door. He later sent word, via a magnificent parchment, that he would come no closer than that post, and recommending that noone who had spent their lives in Ely’s should ever venture any farther.

Perhaps the strangest thing about Ely’s Last Chance was that during the Winds of Death, no one died there. Ely (the original) and his family lived in the upper floor of their miniature kingdom. Not one of them succumbed. Not one of their employees fell ill, at least while they stayed close. Most who left never returned, but why would they? They all had homes and families to try and return to, and the world was falling apart. Of course they never came back!

There was one notable case, though. An accountant named Howard Johansen was trying to get home, but stopped at the Last Chance, feeling very ill. Ely and his family took the man upstairs to rest. They tried to summon medical aid, but the Winds of Death were just getting started, and no aid came. Howard recovered, or mostly recovered, within a couple of days. He stayed one day longer, then left to get home to his family. The last Ely saw of Howard was as his tan Buick headed south. A few weeks later, a small band of survivors came through the tunnel, coming to check on the Yesterville community. They reported passing a tan Buick not far outside the tunnel; the sole occupant, dead. It was suggestive that, somehow, Ely’s Last Chance was immune.

The case of Howard Johansen had been enough for Ely I, a superstitious man anyway, to lay down the law: no one in his family was to leave the Last Chance. The later recommendations of Ralphie the Magnificent served to reinforce and better define the law, driving home its import to Ely Jr. as well.

Sixty years passed. Ely’s became both the defensive checkpoint and the trading post for Oldtown, Yesterville, and whatever lay beyond. Ely and his family aged and died, living normal lives by the standards of Before, and his descendants carried on. Ely begat Ely Jr., who begat Ely III, who begat Ely IV. Four hadn’t done any begatting yet, but was certainly trying.

Mahalo (thank you) for reading; I hope you enjoyed! This story is part of a series. Information on the series, and links to the other stories, can be found here.

[Flexoo 6,980]

Approved.

 

Edits:

- just one extra "to" removed

 

---

 

Wow, this was really confusing till the moment the names have been explained. Seems like the chapters are starting to have some link now, still I won't hide i am confused and curious about how will this pan out.

[TankiNoob2000 231]

Very nice

[Lose 881]

Interesting story...

[r_Given6 859]

Begone with three-letter names!!!!

 

Absolutely wonderful piece.

[Hippin_in_Hawaii 639]

Begone with three-letter names!!!!

 

Absolutely wonderful piece.

Not to worry, the next rash of characters will feature noteworthies such as Al, Bo, Sy, Ti, Ed, Jo, and, of course Emilio.

[Pythor 1,354]

Not to worry, the next rash of characters will feature noteworthies such as Al, Bo, Sy, Ti, Ed, Jo, and, of course Emilio.

Dont forget about Kevin  :ph34r:

[Lose 881]

what about kingjohnthebestandmostepicestofallthepossiblenamesinths14universestrymelolhy6rektnubgoldwas

its not random gibberish trust me

Edited March 18, 2019 by Lose

[r_Given6 859]

Iyuze II B. Dibezt

[ILiveOnTheChatBox123 936]

wait,

this is a chapter of a whole big story? :rolleyes:

Idon't understand what Last Chance is

otherwise its good work!

[Hippin_in_Hawaii 639]

It is intended to be a chapter in a larger story, yes.

Last Chance is just a name. It's a common name for things located on the outskirts of a town when a long journey is required to reach the next such place. Last Chance Casino, Last Chance Cafe, Last Chance Gas-n-Go... in this case, it once was the last chance for people to buy souvenirs of their vacation in Yesterville. Now, it's the last chance for people leaving the safety of the valley.

 

Other stories in the series include:

Ralphie the Magnificent

 

The Beginning

 

I started this because I wanted to participate in a shared world anthology. I may just have to take it and run with it, though.