My Latest Masterpiece
Dad pedaled off on his bike along the emerald terrace which was once shaded by an awning of trees but now baked in the vicious ultraviolet sun rays. Crowds of people were out frenetically sprinting or riding bikes- cars were recently banned- to get last minute provisions from the nearest party store. “I’m going to go pick up some Fallians. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Dad assured.
The telescientists said that Fallians were a great hope for all of humanity. These Twinkie-sized purple capsules worked to ward off harmful substances from the rapid destruction of our climate like garlic to a vampire. I tried to pay as much attention to current events as possible, but this was rather arduous, so for all I knew you just had to let the Fallians sit in a plastic grocery bag on your window sill. At first my parents were reluctant to buy into it, like when they waited to see if DVDs were going to stick around or if it was a waste of money. But in thinking of their five daughters and soon realizing this truly was a matter of life and death, they agreed to follow through. This did not surprise me; my mother practiced the use of sunscreen almost religiously and forced her skin cancer beliefs on my sisters and me as well. She said we would thank her when we were older.
Of course now it did not seem we would ever reach an age that would allow us to worry about wrinkles and sun spots. We were in contact only with those who were near us; cell phone waves could no longer travel and land lines and the Internet were backed up and shut down. The world population was living in their basements, creeping up to the daunting surface only in extreme cases. My dog possessed a sort of staircase phobia and, unfortunately, he was much too large for any of us to haul down. As a result he lied
and panted and wheezed at the top of the stairs in the hall, his eyes rolling back into his skull while the new gases in our air slowly solidified his blood. He yawped helplessly as his hindquarters turned to lead, and his body eventually stiffened completely.
I sat sighing on our musty basement floor, slumped against a pile of storage boxes. I couldn’t stand the sound of my dog suffering, I missed social contact, and I hadn’t the slightest clue as to whether my boyfriend was alive, safe, in danger, or dead. Worst of all, there was no way to find out. The older two of my little sisters, Mae and Amy, were sprawled out on the couch and futon. My mother assembled herself wearily on the lazy boy and the two toddler girls, Lucy and Ruby, tried to play with some dolls on the floor beside her. They were quiet, exhausted, and probably more than anything confused, letting out an occasional and justified whimper. Mum called me over and whispered so the little ones wouldn’t hear that she was concerned about Dad; he had been gone over a half hour, much longer than the suggested rate for exposure to our contaminated atmosphere. She asked if I could, quickly as possible, go up to the party store and try to find him. I agreed, found my roller blades, and ventured out into the open.
I had almost reached my destination through all the chaos and general pandemonium when, of all times, I encountered an old friend and her significant other. Emily was her name. We had gone to primary school together. She looked just the same, smiling through her wire-framed spectacles and always giggling. I skidded to a halt and we exchanged incredulous hellos, how are you getting on with all this? Then Emily introduced me to Mike, who looked something like a cocker spaniel or an upper-crust caveman, dressed fairly but drowning in a frizzy mane. He seemed uninterested in my presence. I was about to shatter the awkward silence and tell her it was nice to see her again, call me sometime, pleasure meeting you as well Mike, when she squinted her eyes downward and asked me why my skin was gold. If I weren’t so pale I would have figured it were a fake tan joke, but there were my calves-thicker than ever and literally coated in a matte yellow gold. “Oh my gosh…I’ve been out here way too long…see you! Good luck!” I called after me as I bladed down the bumpy brick path toward home and toward protection.
“Mum, I’m home!” I sounded down the stairs, kicking off my rollerblades. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t find Dad…I took too long. I need to scrub, my skin is gold!” No answer. “Mum?” I went into the basement to have a peek around. The couch and recliners were vacant and there were no stirring noises. I dashed up the stairs and saw Lucy watching a movie, Ruby laughing and playing in the open doorway, and my mother mumbling to herself as she shuffled from room to room. “You guys! What are you thinking? It’s too risky up here. Mae, Amy; where are you?” No one seemed to listen.
“It’s too hot…I can’t do this…I just need to go away…these kids…my medicine…I can’t breathe…” mumbled my mother.
They’d lost it. Ruby turned to me and gave me a big, toothy grin with a wrinkled nose. “I love you, Kaywee,” she cheered. I smiled back at her and made my way over to the dusty bay window beside the door. The air was heavy and humid, and its excess moisture induced a tingly stinging sensation on the skin. Suddenly, the floor beneath me started to rumble ever so slightly, no more than the vibrations of an electric razor. There began a high-pitched buzz and a whale of a shadow was cast across the street. I pressed into the glass and not a hundred feet up a commercial jet paced the sky. Deep in my stomach acids began to churn and I knew in my veins that it was heading straight for us. This was no shock; if cars could not operate in these sorts of conditions, then planes should certainly not be expected to. Instinctively I headed for the basement to take cover, but three-quarters of my way down the staircase I remembered my mother and sisters were in even more danger than before. The plane’s drone was getting louder, and if they didn’t get downstairs immediately it would be the end for all of them.
And yet my father had still not returned home. He would be devastated to find only a smoking pile of rubble and debris and never know what happened to his wife and daughters; whether they escaped or were buried, whether they were alive or dead. If I survived then I could explain to him what happened, and he would not be alone.
And then there was my boyfriend, Oliver. He was simply enchanting and we were madly in love. It had been nearly two weeks that I had not been able to contact him-an absolutely wrenching two weeks-and I was by no means ready to leave him now, without his knowing and without a proper goodbye.
Of course, this was all assuming that my father and Oliver were even still alive. Mum always said that being a part of a large family meant helping each other out, so I knew that I was expected to do everything I could to save them. Above all I knew that I could never live with the guilt of letting my own mother and sisters die for, ultimately, my own benefit. I was damned either way.
Dashing back up the staircase like some sort of foolish hero I prayed that there was enough time to corral everyone and herd them back down to the basement. They were all still as oblivious as I had left them. I did not want to frighten and immobilize my sisters-kicking and screaming would make the task that much more difficult-so I had to think of some way to do this other than shouting, “MAY DAY! MAY DAY! That plane is headed straight for us! Everyone, hit the deck!” I concluded to resort to my primitive instincts; making loud, unusual noises, jumping about, waving my arms and pointing at the incoming aircraft. I had just about captured my mother’s attention when an excruciating hot stream shot through the entire right side of my body. There was a pressure so intense on my skull that I could feel my brain squeezing out of cracks and holes in the bone into spaghetti. I howled in agony as fluids spurted from my pores and organs burst inside my abdomen, rattling my ribcage.
And then, with a final jolt, there was a wash of a sick, warm contentedness over me. A deafening but soothing low-to-high moan of a thousand violins encompassed me as some sort of vacuum lifted me from the inside. Drifting upward I saw my mother’s limp body rising up above my own. The suction was strong and prevailing yet her limbs were so wilted. Her face was soft and vacant. They were all wilted. We were all vacant.
Some time later-it could have been ten seconds or it could have been ten years-we descended and were seated softly at our own kitchen table. My mother sat tall at one end blinking wildly with her hands folded under her chin. My sisters were seated opposite of me. Although the table was clear, they appeared to be busy with some sort of activity; perhaps colouring. I sat on my mother’s right side, and I felt very, very small. I tried to speak to them but when I did my mouth and throat oozed with gluey, lukewarm mucus. Desperate for contact, I reached for my mother’s arm. She offered a weak smile and told me to close my eyes.
I saw myself water colour painting with Ruby, Lucy and Oliver. As I was trying to get the girls to stop splashing, Oliver leaned over and painted a black triangle over my nose with whiskers extending outwards. Lucy and Ruby doubled over, delightfully screaming in laughter. As I watched myself lean in to kiss Oliver I smiled and large, soggy tears streamed effortlessly from my ducts. My lungs released all of their contained oxygen and I didn’t try to catch my breath.