Michael thought about Jenny, the last pretty girl close to his age in the commune. She was going to be married tomorrow to Bill, one of the young men in the Des Moines group. There were a lot of married couples in this commune. If Michael wanted to find a wife, he would probably have to go somewhere else but traveling any great distance was unlikely, unless he could get his hands on some gasoline for the old Harley, given to him by one of the elders who died from radiation poisoning.

Maybe he could trade the gold watch his father gave him for enough gas to get to some of the other communes. He pulled the large gold watch out of his pocket and opened the cover. Inside the watch cover was a picture of a woman he could barely remember. Michael stared at the picture of his beautiful mother. Even though his mother and father had been divorced, his father still talked about her a lot. Michael vividly remembered his father describing her to him. "She had flaming red hair and big black eyes. Eyes darker than the darkest skies." As he closed the watch cover, Michael thought he'd gladly settle for someone half that lovely if he could ever find her.

The old bus arrived and the group of about thirty or so unloaded. Jenny ran to greet her fiancée as he got off the bus with a big smile on his face. Everyone exchanged greetings with each other and the women began walking toward the outdoor pavilion where they would begin preparing the evening meal, a veritable combination of vegetarian delights. There was no meat to eat. There were no animals. If your commune was near a lake or stream, you might eat fish occasionally but most of the elders said the fish just didn't taste the same as before.

Jenny turned away from her man, waving for Michael to come near the bus. Michael was a little nearsighted and as he walked closer to Jenny he could see her smiling and talking to a younger girl with auburn hair. The closer he got to the bus and Jenny, the more he could see just how pretty the girl was. He had never seen her before.

"Michael, this is Megan. She came to the Des Moines group from the people near Kansas City. There were two many older men in that group and they were starting to fight over the single women. I told her what a nice, young, gentleman you were Michael, so please don't make a liar out of me."

"Hi...." They both responded simultaneously and extended their hands toward each other. As their eyes met and he felt her soft warm hand in his, Michael got an incredible bubbly feeling in his stomach. He knew his search for a wife could be over before it even began.

They ate dinner with the rest of the commune and he and Megan found themselves laughing and sharing their interests in books and the glorious history of what had once been a great country. They were spellbound with each other.

They spent the following day together at Bill and Jenny's wedding. In the weeks that followed, Michael managed to get Bill to appropriate some gasoline for him and he and Megan took some motorcycle rides together. In the other weeks she would come to his commune on the old bus and they would go off together after dinner and walk and talk and laugh and fool around.

They talked about many things, bitter and sweet. They both remembered the gangs and the looting and killings. Today, most of the renegades were gone. They had died off as a result of radiation poisoning or they ended up killing themselves, fighting over what spoils remained - weapons, drugs, and of course - women. Men were always fighting over women.

The communes emerged after most of the gangs and their leaders died off. The healthiest of survivors were the children and a few elders who remained in the caves and shelters and bunkers that protected them from the radiation. These shelters had significant quantities of food, water, and supplies to sustain them for years. Each shelter also had small arms and ammunition to protect them from hostile invaders and renegade gangs. The elders also provided for their education with the aid of a diversified collection of books and magazines.

The young people who grew up in these shelters were not spoiled like the children and youth of the country before the holocaust. They had suffered the greatest of adversity. They lost their parents, brothers and sisters, but they learned to become resourceful and unselfish. They learned to respect each other and although no specific religion was practiced, they believed in God and maintained traditional moral values. They were monogamous and probably lived a more virtuous lifestyle than most of their ancestors.

The elders were wise men and women who taught the young people values and discipline by pointing out the behavioral weaknesses of the society they left behind - permissiveness, hedonistic lifestyles, and above all, they warned of the dangers of promiscuity and adultery which led to broken homes and lives.

The vast majority of these young people listened to them, some out of fear, but mostly because they respected their wisdom and sincerity. Medicinal supplies were scarce, especially anti-biotics. These were used sparingly to treat infectious diseases primarily among children and the elderly members of the communes. They were not wasted on the treatment of sexually transmitted diseases. STD carriers, if discovered, were all but ostracized from the commune. As a result, most marriages taking place in the communes were between young people who were not previously sexually active and with few exceptions, they consummated their vows on their wedding night.

Everyone in a commune contributed to its welfare in one way or another. There was virtually no serious crime, but if any man or woman were proved unfit by their conduct, they were brought before their peers. If rehabilitation was unsuccessful or if they were deemed incapable of remorse for their actions, they were banned from the commune and branded so that wherever they went, others would know of their history and protect themselves accordingly.

Michael and Megan told each other stories of their growing up in these shelters and later being brought out into the communes. Michael had tried to find out if his father or mother were still alive, but the region they were last known to be in was severely devastated. Even if they weren't killed in any of the direct attacks, it's unlikely that they would have escaped the radiation fallout that eventually took its toll on any survivors.

Megan was only three when she was put in a shelter by her mother. Like Michael and his father, she never saw her mother again. She couldn't remember her father at all.

Michael put his hand gently over Megan's mouth. "I don't want to think about the past anymore. I just want to think about the future and you and me." Megan put her face close to his.. "Does that mean you're proposing to me?"

"I better before someone else grabs you. There's not a girl as pretty as you left in the world." Megan smiled at him. "How do you know? You haven't been anywhere else to find out."

"Do you want me to try and find someone prettier?" Megan stifled any further speech by throwing her arms around Michael's neck and pressing her moist, warm, full lips against his. A tear actually came loose from his eye as he felt so good inside and grateful to God for sending him this loveliest of creatures to fill the void in his young, but lonely life.

Practically everyone in both communes knew about Michael and Megan. They were all happy for them, especially Jenny and Bill. The wedding was announced and the old bus would make two trips to bring nearly the entire populace of both communes together for the ceremony and celebration. All together there would be about 160 people. Michael gave his father's gold watch to the commune blacksmith and the old timer started working on it at once. He would melt it down and make two gold wedding bands for Michael and his bride.

The wedding ceremony was simple but beautiful. Bill and Jenny were best man and matron of honor. Megan wore one of the old wedding dresses that had been passed down and used by several other brides in the commune. With an artificial rose in her hair, she looked like a flower child they read about from the 1960's. Megan was as lovely a bride as Michael could ever imagine.

There was music and dancing and singing. Old guitars, banjos, a bass fiddle, and a well-preserved upright piano filled the early evening air with music from several decades past. Although the use of alcoholic beverages was not encouraged, home made wine and apple cider were served at the reception, but like anything else consumed by members of the communes, the portions were rationed.

As darkness came, the music and dancing subsided and Michael and Megan slipped away to the "honeymoon" tent, a hundred yards or so removed from the rest of the party. In the tent was an old brass bed reserved exclusively for the newlyweds who occupied what had now become the "traditional" nuptial suite. There was nothing in the tent except for the bed and two old wooden night stands, one on each side of the bed, with dimly lit candles, completing a quaint, but romantic setting.

Michael and Megan stood together as their shadows covered the walls of the tent. Their clear eyes shined brightly into each other's. These were the eyes of innocence. In past decades, such innocence was likely to be found only in children under the age of reason. But here were two innocents, twenty-three and twenty years old, bringing to each other the most cherished of treasures - their first love.

Michael watched as Megan put something on the night stand. "What's that?" Michael strained his eyes to see the shadowy shape of a small rectangular metal box. "Come sit on the bed with me and I'll show you my dowry." Megan tugged at his arm and Michael knelt on the bed beside her. "What's a dowry?"

"It's something a woman gives her husband for marrying her." Michael laughed. " I don't need anything but you." Megan was insistent, " No, Michael, it's traditional, a woman is supposed bring a dowry into her marr...." Before Megan could finish, Michael kissed her full on the mouth and dragged her gently down on the soft bed. Megan started to giggle but quickly stopped as she felt his warm hands under her nightgown softly caressing her breasts.

They smiled and excitedly explored each other's bodies, kissing and touching and softly whispering their love for each other. It was a muggy summer night and almost spontaneously, they got rid of all their undergarments and bed covers, laughing as they threw them with reckless abandon, on the floor of the tent.

They lie there almost glued to each other. Megan laughed as their bodies, wet with perspiration, made strange sounds that she could swear everyone in the commune could hear. It was a night of rapture, a night of love, a night they had both dreamed of since they first met when Megan got off the bus.

Finally exhausted, they fell asleep in each other's arms. About an hour before daylight, Michael woke up suddenly and looked down at Megan. He admired her finely chiseled features and her soft red lips. Then he played with her silky hair and kissed her closed eyelids.

Michael felt happy but sensed a strange feeling coming over him. It was a feeling that frightened him. It was a feeling that he might lose Megan someday. He looked at her once again and the strange fear began to subside, but he remained wide awake.

Then he slid over to her side of the bed and reached for the metal box on the nightstand. Michael put the box in the center of the bed and opened it. In the candle light he could see most of the contents. He began inspecting the small stones, rubies, amethyst, onyx, and many others. He held up a string of pearls to the candlelight and smiled to himself. This is some pretty good stuff, he thought.. She wasn't kidding when she said she had a dowry.

Then he saw it - a small gold locket, barely noticeable under the gems and stones. As he held it in his hand, Megan sat up and yawned, rubbing her eyes. "Do you like my dowry?" She smiled and picked up the candle holder from the nightstand to help Michael see better. He depressed the little stem and opened the locket.

"That's the only picture I have of my mother. Wasn't she pretty?" Michael strained his eyes to look at the small picture of the woman inside the locket. Megan brought the candle closer to Michael and he froze as he got a good look at the picture of Megan's mother. His mouth agape, he couldn't hear Megan say "What's wrong Michael? Michael, tell me."

As he stared at the picture of the beautiful woman illuminated by the candlelight, Michael's ears began ringing and ringing - ringing with the sound of his father's voice: " She had flaming red hair and big black eyes. Eyes darker than the darkest skies."

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