Jodi the Author

The meeting didn’t last long.  For Marie it only brought more questions and doubt about any success for survival.  Even though there was no use arguing, Sam tried to convince Marie, as Mark drove them back. 

“Why don’t you come out into the woods with us?  You know the destruction is coming here soon.  They have to clean this up.”  Sam tried to get Marie to look at her.       

“I’m so tired of hearing about them.  Nothing’s going to be the same.  I just want to curl up and… and…”  Marie let her voice trail off with a sob.  She walked into the house and shut the door.  Mark and Sam followed. 

Another clap of thunder brought a shudder to the building.  A window shattered.  Plaster fell around them.  “You can’t stay here. Come on, grab what you can.  We’re getting out of here.”  Mark pushed his way between Marie and Sam.

“No.”  Marie stomped her foot.  She pulled the blue blanket off the sofa and wrapped it around her, then turned to the bedroom.

Mark grabbed for her.

“No.” Sam whispered.  “We can’t force her.”

At the bedroom, Marie turned back to look at her two friends.  A flash of lightning cut through the room.  On the other side of this door was what she had planned for the last month.  Sadness overwhelmed her.  She reached for the handle.  

“If you go in there, it’s over.”  Sam’s whisper echoed vague hope.

“Why do you think Frank gave up on maintaining the generators around town?” Sam drank half the remaining coffee. “I mean, I know he lost his helpers, but he could have recruited others.”

“Could he?” Marie pouted. “It’s just like that coffee. When it’s gone, nothing else will taste quite like it. Frank and his friends worked good together. When they d…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word. “Now they’re gone, I guess the knowledge they shared is gone too.”

“Yeah. Well, there’re other ways of surviving. More enjoyable too.” Sam took another drink, then handed the cup back to Marie. “Finish that. We need to get going.” “You said you’d go meet my friends, remember?”

“Maybe you should go on without me. I think I’ll just stay here with…” Marie looked at the urn on the mantle. “Not much more we can do now anyway.” Wind blew into the front window. “See, even nature’s telling us it’s time to give up.” A loud clap of thunder shook through her.

Sam frowned. “You aren’t dead yet. At least come and listen to what we have to say. Bill’ll be here waiting when you come back.” At the door, Sam twisted the knob back and forth. She tapped her left foot making a rough sound that was so irritating Marie wanted to get away. If only there was another exit, or better yet a door with a lock. No such luck.

“Come on. What can it hurt?”

Marie grabbed her coat. “You’re right. But then I’m coming back here.” It wasn’t as if she would change her mind. If somehow they could bring Bill back maybe. That wasn’t going to happen.

They walked down empty sidewalks. Lit with streetlights that sucked the last of the juice from the automated electricity generators, Marie refused to carry on a conversation with Sam who stomped along beside her in silence.

The meeting Sam took her to was in the middle of the park on the outskirts of town. They might have driven, but all the gas that was left was gathered to fuel the bus Sam and her friends used to transport what little supplies were left in the stores. At the river, the once sturdy bridge groaned from the growing gale.
Marie wrapped her coat tighter.

“Over here. Over here. Come on. Let’s pull things together.” A bolt of lightning arced over their heads. Another loud clap of thunder added to trepidation that vibrated through the air.

Panicked voices surrounded Marie with fear.

“We can’t stay here.”

“One of these trees is going to come down on us.”

“We’d be better back in our homes out of this.”

The group of people pushed together under the one standing structure. With no walls, a small gazebo overlooked the rushing torrent of a thick green river.

“It’s starting.” Sam shivered. “Mark, move over please.” Sam worked her smile to make room for the two of them on a narrow bench.

A slender, nondescript man stood and smiled. “Sure thing sweetie.” A flash of lightening brightened the dusk. When dark settled back, Marie sat down next to Sam. She couldn’t make out the faces of others around her. Whispers joined with questions and statements that brought no resolution to their current predicament.

I shouldn’t have come. Marie wished she was home, wrapped in the soft blue blanket Bill had bought her on their second anniversary. Instead, here in the thickening mist, cold penetrated her heavy coat. Bodies pressed against her. But there was no warmth, only the chill of fear.

When they finished drinking the coffee, she could put it off no longer.  Marie grabbed her coat, finally agreeing to go with Sam.  What could it hurt?  It wasn’t as if she would change her mind.  If somehow they could bring Bill back, maybe.  That wasn’t going to happen. 

The meeting was in the middle of the park on the outskirts of town.  Sam turned off the engine.  A rumble of thunder pushed everyone under the one standing structure, a small gazebo that overlooked a rushing torrent of a greenish brown river. 

“It’s starting.”  Sam shivered.  “Mark, make room, please.”  Sam’s smile would have melted any man’s heart.  She was one of those people everyone one wanted to get to know. 

A slender nondescript man who sat on one of the benches that lined the walls of the gazebo stood and smiled.  “Sure thing sweetie.”  A flash of lightening brightened the dusk.  When dark settled back, Marie sat down on the bench.  She couldn’t see anything. 

I shouldn’t have come.  She wished she were home, wrapped in the soft blue blanket Bill had bought her on their second anniversary.  Instead, here in the thickening mist, cold penetrated even the heavy coat she wore.

Marie woke slowly to the smell of coffee brewing.  What a terrible nightmare.  She lay there in the soft warmth, protected from the cold around her.  She fought to overcome the terror that still had her heart pounding.

“Bill?”  She reached for the comfort he would give her.  His side of the bed was cold.  It can’t be true.  “Bill?”  Still no answer.  She forced her eyes open.  Grayness greeted her.  Slippers waited to protect her from the chill of the floor tiles that bent to nip  her feet.  Marie looked around.  The house was empty.  Wooden furniture stood to attention, offering little solace.

The end was near.  There was nothing she could do about it.  A year ago, maybe, when Hank brought the basket to the anniversary party, but now Bill and the others were gone.  Soon she’d join them.  Who would have believed something like this could happen?  She wasn’t really sure what it was, only the destruction it brought.

Marie crept to the kitchen.  She poured strong black liquid into Bill’s favorite cup.  Preferring it black, she still filled the remaining half with milk, adding three spoons of sugar.  This had become her waking tradition.  With the constant dusk that enveloped the planet, she slept and woke when she felt like it.  There was no job to go to, no purpose to take her outside.  There were few others left.  Their little pocket in the coastal region of the mid-western hemisphere, offered a unique, quiet life.

In the living room, the couch faced a small hearth.  Dark and cold, there hadn’t been a fire in it since the night of their tenth anniversary.  On the mantel above, the container with Bill’s ashes kept her company.  That was all the warmth she wanted.

Marie Wiktran woke to the fragrance of coffee brewing.  She couldn’t remember it ever smelling so good.  Maybe Bill had made it his special way this time. 

“Bill? Where are you?”  She reached for the comfort he would give her.  But his side of the bed was cold.  “Bill?”  No answer.  She forced her eyes open.  Grayness greeted her.  She sat up and stretched her feet down to the slippers that waited to protect her from the chill of the floor tiles.  Even though many of the small squares bent to nip at her toes, Marie stretched her toes to waiting slippers.  She refused to accept reality.  It had to be a horrible nightmare.  Bill would chase the darkness away.   When she braved going into the main room, inanimate objects stood testament to the life she longed to return to.  Wooden furniture stood to attention, offering little solace.      

In the kitchen, the coffee pot spit and sputtered, spewing hot water and hotter steam.  Some of it pressed through the last of the coffee grounds.  She poured the strong black liquid into Bill’s favorite cup.  Even though she preferred it black, she used what was left of the milk to fill the mug to the brim.  She added three spoons of sugar.  This had become her waking tradition.  With the constant dusk that enveloped the planet, she slept and woke when she felt like it.  There was no job to go to, no purpose to take her outside.  There were few others left.  Their little pocket in the coastal region of the north-western hemisphere had offered a unique, quiet life.  Now the only thing it gave her was a place to curl up, a place to die, alone.  She’d accepted that long ago.  She just wished it would happen so she could join Bill.  After all it was her fault.  She’d introduced him to the first stupid video game he ever played.  Then Greg came along and it was an all out competition to see who could rack up the most points in the latest game.  Even that had become passé for them.  They started designing their own games. 

Marie sat on the old faded couch in the living room.  Facing the cold lifeless hearth, it reminded her of better times, when a warm fire heated the apartment.  She pulled her knees up to her chin and rested the mug so the steam could waft into her face. 

Don’t look up.  The words screamed through her mind.  It was like telling herself not to eat her favorite candy, when it sat right in front of her.  On the mantel above, a cold gray urn held Bill’s ashes.  Reality twisted through her.   

The doorbell rang, startling Marie out of her reverie.  She could ignore it, and hope whoever was there would go away.  A loud pounding followed by the incessant ring of the bell became too much.  With slow determination, Marie sat the mug on the old wooden table at the end of the couch, before she stood.  It was one of the few things she still had control over.  Staying as quiet as possible she moved across the floor.  At the door she placed her hand up, willing whoever was out there to go away.  It was no use.  The bell rang and rang.  Marie gave the knob an angry twist.  The creak and groan of old metal gave way. 

Sam Nhatim stood in front of Marie, dripping greenish water onto the floor.  Her long blond hair clung in wet strings around her face. “Aren’t you ready?” 

“I’m not sure I want to go.”  Marie returned to the couch and sat down.  Once more she pulled her knees up to her chest. 

“Mmmm. That smells good.”  Sam pointed at the mug.  “Do you have more?” 

“No.  This is the last.”  Marie ducked her head.

“Well can I have some?”  Sam sat down.  A dark stain grew where the couch soaked up water from her clothes.    

“I’ve already drank from the cup.”  Marie picked up the mug and took a drink to emphasize her words.

“It’s not like it could harm me now.”  Sam grasped the cup, and pulled it out Marie’s hands.