Escape From Rhivera

~2034~

~Thirty-nine years later~

In the city, there was a home set aside from the rest. Not too big, not too small. Just large enough for the family there to live comfortably. In the upstairs room there was a study with canvases along the wall, with many tins of paint and paintbrushes accompanying them.

A canvas was set out, while a cleanly shaven old man with greying hair and baggy clothes standing in front of it. He held a paintbrush in his hand and eyed the canvas carefully as he drew his hand to it. Car horns honked aggressively outside with the morning traffic, but when the old man was in his study, he hardly noticed. His name was Ernesto Orania.

Along the wall was a novel with the title ‘Escape from Rhivera’ emblazoned across the top. The cover featured art of a young woman standing at the edge of a dock, watching as a small ship sailed out to sea. Printed at the bottom of the cover was ‘Written by Ernesto Orania’.

Ernesto almost chuckled whenever he saw his name on the cover’s page. In truth, he had far less to do with the book’s creation than one would expect.

Decades ago, Ernesto had written a novel about his family’s journey out of Rhivera and brought it to a publisher. It was terrible. Awful pacing. Meandering prose. Typos and grammatical issues littered every page. But the publishers saw the potential in his family’s journey. Ernesto permitted them to rewrite the book, and they took the reins from there. He only insisted that he draw the cover himself.

He only read through the entire novel at once. It was all he could stomach. It was full of fictions and fabrications about himself, his family, and his home country. They went as far as to add a love interest for him that died on the journey out of the country. Rhivera was depicted as a vile and hostile place without mercy.

It sold quite well. The isolationist country of Rhivera was an intriguing topic for many around the world. Their story of perseverance was fascinating, despite how much was fabricated.

They used his cover for the first month of sales. But when the book took off, they contracted an artist to ‘remaster’ his art. It bore no resemblance to his. Instead, they drew a far more handsome and muscular version of himself embracing a beautiful woman, the love interest they had written into the story.

Ultimately, Ernesto didn’t care. The revenue he got from the book sales helped him and his family get out of a difficult situation and into a more comfortable life.

The book sales died down after a few years, and Ernesto was content with making a bit of money off the drawings he was contracted to do.

At least until the year 2030. After a great war in Rhivera, the old Population Control was abolished and came with new leadership. The overhauled government contacted the rest of the world. This revitalized the sales of Ernesto’s book.

This time, he wasn’t content with allowing the fiction contained in the story to muddy the truth. He participated in interviews and made sure to dispel the lies they wrote about his family and Rhivera.

At least, he did at first. Maybe… at his core, he was still a lazy person. After entertaining many interviewers, he grew tired of it. He started to refuse interview requests outright. He was an old man and wanted to be left in peace.

A shuffling came up the stairs and greeted him, “Hey Uncle, I’ve got mail for you.”

Ernesto turned and saw a young man, twenty-three years of age, with dark black hair and fair skin. He had an athletic build; he was certainly stronger than Ernesto was at that age. It was his nephew, Carlos.

Ernesto turned back to his painting, “Anything worthwhile?”

Carlos gripped a few letters in his hand and shuffled through them, “Want me to go through them?”

“Go ahead.”

Carlos opened each letter and skimmed over the text in each, “You have another interview request about the book.”

“Toss it.”

Carlos nonchalantly chucked the letter down the stairs and continued through the others, “Interview request… Interview request… Interview request… Ah, someone wants to contract you for a painting.”

Ernesto perked up, “Ah, what for?”

Carlos read through the letter, “Oh… Oh!”

“What?”

“I don’t think you want to draw that.”

“Draw what?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Ernesto set his paintbrush down, “Let me see.”

“I warned you…” Carlos said with a grimace as he handed it over.

Ernesto skimmed through the page… stopping himself when he read a description of some bizarre fetishistic act that he couldn’t fathom anyone wanting to see. He stopped himself before getting into the greater details.

“You shouldn’t have let me see,” Ernesto said as he crumpled the letter up and passed it back to his nephew.

“I did warn you,” Carlos replied, sitting down at a table and siphoning through the remaining letters, “Interview request… Interview request… Interview request… Hey, we still have family over in Rhivera, don’t we?”

“Yes. Why?”

“This interview request is from a Paula Orania-Ortega? Could it be your sister, Paula?”

Ernesto swiped his paintbrush across the page by accident, practically ruining his work of the last few days. But that was the least of his concerns. He turned to Carlos and took the letter from him. He read each word carefully.

Ernesto Orania,

I hope this letter finds you well. I come from a Rhiveran news station, and I recently came across your novel, ‘Escape from Rhivera’. If you’re willing, I’d be eager to meet with you and speak to you about your novel at your convenience. Perhaps, meet the rest of your family, which the story speaks of. I’m certain you’d like to meet me as well. I hope to hear from you soon.

Paula Orania-Ortega

“Uncle? You ok?”

Ernesto must’ve reread the letter several times over before Carlos spoke. He set the letter down gently, “Can you send a letter back to arrange a meeting with her?”

“I’m on it.”

A meeting date was decided. Days passed until the appointed time came. Every second of that day seemed to dilate for Ernesto. He tried to keep himself occupied, but he was anxious. He started to worry that she wouldn’t come or that it was some sort of hoax. Or perhaps she would simply get lost in the city and not be able to find his home.

Then a knock came at his door. He took a breath and stood. He pensively approached the door, unlocked it, turned the knob, and parted it open.

There she was. She was aged, but very clearly Paula. She dressed properly, wearing a coat and dress, and a purse in one hand. Her hair was still a bright red, maintaining a semblance of youth. For her age, it was likely dyed.

“Hi...” Paula quietly greeted him at his door with a soft smile.

“Hey…” Ernesto replied airily.

The two stood in silence, but the inevitable couldn’t be delayed any longer. Ernesto wrapped his arms around her and hugged his long-lost sister, and she gripped him just as tightly.

Who knew how long they simply held each other, joyous tears streaming down their faces? It was the first time either of them had ever cried around each other.

“Missed you, sis.”

“Missed you too… so much…” Paula sniffled.

The two parted from their embrace, and Ernesto turned to the side, “D-Do you want to come in?”

Paula smiled and wiped her tears, “Yes. Of course.”

Ernesto closed the door behind her as she entered. She looked around their modest home. Everything was small there. The kitchen, living room, and dining were all smaller than his old home back in Rhivera. He had a few of the paintings he was most proud of posted on the walls, including one meant to represent the palm leave sail they used to escape the island they were stranded on.

“I like your house.”

“Thanks. Want to sit down?”

Paula smiled, “Sure.”

Ernesto gestured to his dining table, “Did you have trouble finding the place?”

“A little. This country is laid out very differently from Rhivera,” Paula answered as she sat. She placed her hands on her knees and smiled, “You seem to be doing well for yourself!”

Ernesto smiled and sat across from her, “You too. But there was never any doubt of that.”

Paula nodded and smiled, before reaching into her purse and pulling out a familiar book, “Well, let’s get the boring stuff out of the way… I did read the novel!”

Ernesto immediately checked to see which version she had and was disappointed to see the art of a handsome version of himself with his fictitious lover on the cover.

He groaned aloud, “Ahhhh. I knew you’d have that version, but I was hoping you’d have the other cover.”

“Other cover?”

Ernesto stood, crossed the room, and picked up his own copy of the book. He proudly handed it to her. The cover was of a red-haired young woman standing at the edge of a dock, watching a boat sail out to sea.

“Is… Is that me?” Paula stammered.

“Mhmm.” Ernesto nodded.

Paula nodded, “That’s surprising… I’m barely in the book.”

“You were in the original draft. When the publishers got a hold of it, they almost wrote you out entirely. They took some … creative liberties.”

Paula’s eyes widened, and she trifled through her purse, “Let me get my notebook. I am technically supposed to interview you, might as well pretend like that’s why I’m really here.”

Ernesto sat down across from her, “Might as well.”

Paula took a notebook and pen in hand, locked eyes with her brother, and put on a far more formal and sophisticated voice. That of a professional. “They certainly exaggerated some of the characteristics of Rhivera. They made the country appear far more brutal than it actually was. How did you feel about the changes they made?”

Ernesto blinked at his sister before smiling, “If you’re going to talk like that during the whole interview, I’m not going to be able to take you seriously.”

Paula chuckled, and dropped to a more informal tone, “Well, how did it make you feel?”

“At that point… I didn’t care. All I cared about was the money so I could take care of my family.”

“It did help, didn’t it?”

Ernesto nodded, “Absolutely. We struggled a lot before I started making royalties from the book. Ever since Rhivera opened contact with the outside world, it reignited interest in the book in the last few years.”

“…What about the years before the book? What were those like?” Paula asked.

He sighed, “There were some hard times. We did whatever we could to get by. Some things we regret. But we made it through.”

Paula nodded and jotted something down in her notebook. There was a tinge of sadness as she looked down at the page, however. But she looked up with a more optimistic tone, “Ever start a family?”

“Are you asking as an interviewer or as my sister?”

Paula smirked, “Yes.”

Ernesto smiled, “Still a smart-ass, I see! Not me. But Maggie did. Her son helps me out a lot. A tough kid for sure.”

Paula perked up and set her pen aside, “Really? Will I be able to see them?”

“She told me to call you after you arrived. I can tell her to come over right now if you like,” Ernesto replied.

“Yes! Please do!”

Ernesto stood and crossed his house to a telephone. While he did, Paula was rummaging through her purse for something else.

The telephone rang, and a voice promptly answered. Maggie’s aged voice. “Is she here?”

“Yup. I’m looking at her right now,” Ernesto replied.

“Can I talk to her really quick?” Maggie asked, her tone overwhelmingly excited.

“Talk to her when you see her! Now hurry over here!” Ernesto replied smugly, promptly setting the phone down.

When he turned back to his Paula, she had a handful of photos in her hands. She handed them over to Ernesto.

“Take a look through these,” She eagerly said.

Ernesto looked through each photo carefully. With each one, a flurry of questions followed. There was a wedding picture with Paula and a rather handsome man. Her in a hospital bed holding a newborn; her first child. A family photo with Paula, her husband, and three children. Graduation photos for each of her kids. Even photos with Paula’s grandchildren.

“You had quite the life.” Ernesto remarked as he looked upon the ensemble that was the family she had built, “A shame your family couldn’t come with you.”

“The government barely sanctioned that I could leave Rhivera. They’re still picky about people coming and going.”

“How have things been in Rhivera since we left? I heard there was some revolution in 2020.”

“Miro’s revolution. They ended up compromising with the government and changing how they ran things, like Population Control. All births have to be sanctioned by the government now,” Paula explained.

“Huh… How’re people taking that?”

“Some people prefer it. Some don’t. I personally think it’s better than how it was,” Paula shrugged, “Strange enough, I really like who the chosen heir to the Emperor is. It’s a man in a wheelchair.”

Ernesto’s eyes widened. “A wheelchair?”

Paula nodded emphatically, “Mhmm. A man named Eugenio Neruda. He’s not even a member of the royal family. Back in the old days of Population Control, he would’ve been eliminated. But he’s proven himself.”

“…I feel like Rhivera would be unrecognizable if I ever went back…” Ernesto remarked.

“Yeah…” Paula paused and took a breath, “You know, there was never a day that went by where I didn’t reconsider whether I should’ve left with you. If we had stayed together… Until I heard about your book, I wasn’t sure if you survived or not.”

“It worked out in the end,” Ernesto simply smiled.

“I just… wish I could’ve seen Ma and Pa again…” Paula said, sadness in her voice.

Ernesto… began to smirk. He couldn’t help it. He covered his mouth to try and hide it, but Paula immediately caught it.

“What’re you smiling about?!” She asked, astounded.

Ernesto chuckled and gestured to her, “Come with me.”

Ernesto guided her to the backyard, where a small garden waited. But in that fenced-in backyard were two rocking chairs occupied by a very old man, and a very old woman, both with bright white hair. As soon as Paula noticed, she froze in place. Ernesto couldn’t help but smirk at her surprise.

“Is that…?” Paula muttered.

“Yep. They’re right there.”

“Do… Do they know I’m here?” Paula asked.

“Not yet. I didn’t want to tell them you were coming in case it didn’t work out,” Ernesto explained. He approached his sister and took her hand, “Let’s go say hi.”

Paula took a moment to move, her every movement filled with anxiousness.

“Ma! Pa! Someone is here to meet you!” Ernesto hollered.

“It better not be one of those damn interviewers again!” Ignacio grumbled from his rocking chair.

Ernesto couldn’t help but laugh. He allowed his sister to step out in front of him, “Eh… kinda…”

“Hi, Ma… Hi, Pa...” Paula’s voice quivered as she circled out in front of them.

It took Ignacio a moment to recognize her, but Delilah knew it was her at first sight. Ernesto just watched as the three of them burst into tears and embraced. Despite his age, Ignacio couldn’t help but pick Paula up in the air for a great hug. He certainly needed to sit down after that.

They began to catch up with each other, just as Ernesto had done with Paula. Maggie and her son Carlos arrived as they started to calm down. The sisters’ reunion only led to another tearful embrace. Ernesto hadn’t seen any of them cry as much as they had on that day.

Once the tears had settled and the family was simply enjoying each other’s presence once again, Carlos pulled out a camera and asked the five of them to line up with one another. With a click of the camera, he captured a reunion of a family after many, many years.