Feld Unkin believed that every person was created with a purpose. It is a thing he taught to Mena in as many ways as he knew how in the months and years following the Gene Event. He knew that his purpose was to help, he wanted to make sure everyone was okay. As okay as they could be.
The population of Fairview was three hundred and thirty-six before the Gene Event and forty-three after. Many of the people that survived were young and had grown up in Fairview, never seeing anything beyond it. After people came out of their homes, after the dying was finished, Feld took to making meals for people and creating gatherings. It was what he wished he’d had when Hillston was destroyed: just a time to be around people. He would tell stories of Hillston, stories of the man on the top of the hill. He hoped it was the warning in that story that kept people engaged, the warning not to become too caught up in ones beliefs, the warning about the importance of acceptance. Somewhere deep inside, though, he knew that it was just the horror that people wanted to hear. They wanted to know that life could be worse. And, Feld thought, that was okay too.
Over time the stories were getting harder to remember. He almost felt like he was making them up.
Was the man tall or short?
Did he really have dark skin?
When they met at the market, did he speak to them at all?
It all seemed to blend together after awhile.
It didn’t matter, as long as it helped people.