Chapter 2 #2
The woman told the children to stay close by, and they headed for the trees, the boy chasing after the girl. Small, both of them, the boy probably eight or nine, the girl a couple of years younger. They stopped under a large tree and began picking up leaves from the ground.
The woman joined the man out in front of the minivan. She wasn’t smiling, instead rubbing her hands together as if cold. She looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, her long hair tied up in a messy bun.
The man said, “Name’s John. That’s my wife, Megan. Boy is Jamie. Daughter’s named Lauren.”
“Don,” he said with an awkward wave. “My husband, Rodney.”
Rodney grunted in greeting and a tip of his head, hand still in Don’s. They’d heard stories. People on the road during these difficult times, not in their right minds. Robberies. Assaults. Murder. They were a family, but that didn’t mean shit anymore.
John said, “What brings you folks out here?”
“Driving,” Rodney said.
“On a trip,” Don added.
John nodded. Megan popped her knuckles. The kids giggled as they lay on their backs on the ground.
“I hear that,” John said, and Don wanted to ask him to stop smiling. It was growing uncomfortable. “Strange, isn’t it?” John looked up at the sky. “Looks like it always has. Hard to believe what’s coming.”
Normal, this. Or, rather, the new normal.
It was all anyone talked about. And why shouldn’t they?
It was happening to everyone. You couldn’t go anywhere without someone asking what they thought about the black hole, what would happen when it finally reached Earth.
Some thought it a hoax; still others believed it was God Himself, and the rapture was nigh.
Don thought it was nothing but shitty, rotten luck.
“It is what it is,” Rodney said. “If it wasn’t one thing, it’d be another.”
John laughed, a choked, wet sound. “Yeah, yeah.” Then, “You think?”
Rodney shrugged. “The way I figure it, something always comes due. Can’t really get around it.”
“Right,” John said, head bobbing up and down as if he were a marionette. “Right. Nothing much can be done. You got it in one.” He looked away, rubbing a hand over his face. “Always comes due in the end.”
Megan said, “We haven’t told the kids.” In a hurry, she added, “We will. It’s just that…”
She didn’t finish, looking at Jamie and Lauren, who by this point were pointing out shapes in the clouds.
“Pulled them out of school,” John said in a low voice. “Told them we were going to take a trip of a lifetime.” His throat worked. “Wanted to show them everything.” He laughed to try and hide his tears. “Before it’s all gone.”
“Their grandparents live in Minnesota,” Megan said. “That’s where we’re going. They live out in the middle of nowhere, and we’re thinking there might be a chance.”
“Right?” John asked. “You think? You think there might be a chance?”
Rodney said, “I don’t know.” A gentle lie.
John nodded, obviously relieved. “Okay, fine. We’ve been through worse before, yeah? Wars and pandemics, stuff like that. And we’ve always come out on top. That’s what I think. I think all of this is being overblown.”
Don wanted to ask: Then why are you here? Why did you uproot your lives? Why can’t you look anyone in the eye when you speak? But he didn’t. He said, “From your lips to God’s ears.”
The family insisted they share a meal together. A rest stop a few miles ahead had pullouts, bathrooms, grills. They found an empty stone gazebo off to one side. The rest stop was mostly empty. A couple of long-haul trucks, carrying goods that no longer mattered. A few cars. Nothing more.
Charcoal in the grill, courtesy of John. Hamburger patties from Rodney and Don. Potato chips. Soda and juice. Fruit for dessert, oranges and grapes.
The children were wary of Don and Rodney at first, but that fell away when they sat down to eat.
The boy—Jamie—said that he couldn’t wait for his birthday in the fall.
He was going to ask for a new computer. Lauren, the little girl, showed them the rocks she’d found.
One, she said, looked like a lion. She had others at home.
She had to leave them behind because her mother said they didn’t need to take rocks where they were going.
She wondered aloud if her rocks missed her, and how she was going to wash them when she got home.
Not once did their parents correct them. Not once did their parents say they weren’t going home again. That there wouldn’t be a home left to go back to. And even if there was, odds were not in their favor that they’d live to see it again.
The parents smiled. The children laughed. Don felt like screaming.
And that only worsened when Jamie said, “Some kid at school told me we’re all going to die.”
John froze. Megan stiffened. Lauren grinned, a potato chip in her hand that she crushed, bits and pieces falling on the table.
“Why do you think he would say that?” Don asked after it became clear no one else would answer.
Jamie shrugged as he peeled a grape with his little fingers. “I dunno. But he said space was coming down and will make us catch on fire. Isn’t that funny?”
“Kids,” Megan said hoarsely. “Go play.”
Jamie frowned up at her. “But I’m—”
“Now!”
They left, but they didn’t go far. Every now and then, Jamie would look back at them with a confused expression. Megan ate slowly, robotically. With a mouthful of potato salad, she said, “Sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.”
Don did. It was a case of the inevitabilities, and a rather serious one at that.
The meal was over, but John didn’t seem quite ready to leave. He rested his elbows on the table and said, “You know, it’s strange.”
“What is?” Don asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“This,” John said. “All of this. A few hours ago, we didn’t know you existed. If things were different, odds are we’d never have met. And I keep thinking, okay, it is what it is. But here you are. Here we are. Together.”
“It was happenstance,” Rodney said with a grunt.
John shook his head. “I don’t believe that, not anymore. Not after … everything. I’m not saying that everything happens for a reason. But this? Here? Now? Maybe it was supposed to happen. Maybe we were supposed to cross paths like this.”
Don didn’t like the look in John’s eyes. It seemed almost manic. He didn’t blame John for that—how could he? But still … it unnerved him, being up close to someone who seemed on the verge of a breakdown.
He jumped a little when Megan said, “Where are you going?”
“West,” Don said. “We’re heading west.”
“What’s west?”
Without thinking, Don blurted, “Our son.” He ignored the look Rodney shot him.
“Your son?” Megan asked. She glanced at her children, her hand at her throat. “Yes, I suppose that makes sense.” Her gaze tightened. “Why isn’t he with you?”
“What about after?” John asked. “Have you thought about heading north? That’s what we’re doing.” His smile returned, lips rubbery. “You could come with us. To Minnesota. It really is the middle of nowhere. If there’s a chance at surviving this thing, maybe it’ll be there.”
No, no it wouldn’t be. Any and all land—should it remain intact and not get pulled out into space—would be scorched beyond recognition.
The energy from the black hole would create tidal waves of fire so tall, nothing could stand before them and live.
It didn’t matter who anyone was or where they went.
Billionaires in bunkers or in space. Poor people huddled in basements with dirt floors.
No amount of wealth, or how good a person was, none of it mattered. They’d all meet the same end.
“We’d have more than enough room,” Megan said. “I don’t think anyone would mind if—”
“We can’t,” Don said. “Thank you for the offer, but we have something we need to see to before … well. Before.”
“Don’t you want to live?” John asked, that off look in his eyes growing brighter.
“Don’t you want to prove everyone wrong and survive?
Think about it. This thing—whatever it is—comes.
What if it misses us? What if it causes damage, but not enough to destroy the world? What if we could somehow continue on?”
Don could tell by the look on Rodney’s face that he was almost at his limit. Don couldn’t fault John for his thinking. He was reaching for something to hold on to. But Rodney … well. Rodney didn’t suffer fools.
Don reached over and squeezed Rodney’s thigh. He sighed.
“Anything is possible,” Don said slowly, picking and choosing his words. “But—”
“I don’t want to die,” John said. “I don’t want them to die.”
“No one’s dying!” Megan said shrilly. “Stop it. Just stop it. I don’t want to hear about this anymore. Let’s talk about something else. Flowers. Don’t you just love flowers?”
“I have a garden,” Don said. Not had, have. It was still there. For now. “All different varieties of blooms. I—”