Ain't Found a Way to Kill Me Yet
Blair fell asleep before he did and he didn't notice how he'd gone perfectly still under her warm weight, except for the thud of his heart in his chest. He didn't need to move, it seemed. There were no twitches in his fingers or pangs in his legs. He'd settled comfortably against the canvas draped soil. The air, after the rain, was cold, the cloud cover low and close. It should have been warm, he felt, stuffy with humidity, but it wasn't and the cold felt empty, unwelcoming.
Marcus had his head tipped back, eyes open, sight full of the thick grey overhead that never dispersed. A nuclear winter. Ash in the rain. He remembered the fallout shelter that had been in back of the old grocery store in Abilene, the one had had closed down the year he was born. Would anyone have had the chance to get in that shelter before the bombs landed, or had Abilene been wiped off the map, leveled by radiation? More than that, he wondered if he cared.
It was threatening to rain. A chorus of peepers drowned out the faint sound of trucks on the highway a few miles away, occasionally pierced by a bullfrog, low and gulping, a sound that Marcus could feel in his gut. Brian would mimic the sound and they would both laugh. Marcus could feel sweat dripping down the back of his neck, down his spine, down the inside of his leg and he didn't object when Brian suggested they go for a swim. The light from the house was a pinprick in the dark, but easy to see. Not a lot of thick forest in Abilene. The pond was man-made, more mud than water, but when Marcus jumped in, it didn't matter. Mud was as much a relief from the heat as water was, and the smell made the two boys laugh.
Their splashing silenced the peepers, but not for long. Determined, the little frogs began to sing once the sound of water had reduced to the occasional splash. Brian told him that if they lay perfectly still, floating on their backs, then the fish and frogs would swim up to them. Maybe one would even think they were logs, he said, and they would get frogs jumping up onto their bare bellies and chests. They never did, but the possibility was enough to keep Marcus as still as he could in the water for what felt like hours. Brian would keep talking. He was always talking, telling him about girls, and junior high, and what life would be like once dad came back again, and how as soon as he got his license he would teach Marcus to drive on the dirt roads that laced between the rundown houses and town.
Marcus smiled and nodded in agreement when his brother suggested this, but knew it would never happen. As soon as Brian got his license it would be a lot easier for him to run off to parties he was probably too young for, run off to meet girls who thought he'd be their boyfriend, run off with cigarettes stolen from their mother's room, cigarettes Marcus would get smacked for stealing while Brian smoked them behind Abilene junior high. Brian wouldn't teach him to drive because he'd be sixteen, and sixteen was too old to be hanging out with a little brother. Marcus had already watched it begin, the way Brian slammed doors in his face when he tried to follow him and his friends. He'd asked Brian if he wanted to have a sleepover for his birthday like they'd done last year, hanging a tent made out of a tarp in the few scraggly trees by the pond. Brian had laughed and called him a fag.
But floating in the water, listening to Brian talk now, it didn't matter. He smiled and nodded in agreement because here, a Brian existed who would teach him to drive. This Brian let Marcus hide under his blankets the times they could hear their mother crying downstairs. The air was humid, hot and close, pressing on his mouth and nose like a damp towel. He could feel the rain waiting to fall and knew that as soon as the thunder rolled in, the peepers would stop singing. Quiet before the storm, the peace before the chaos.
When they woke up, Blair didn't waste time in getting her shirt off and explaining that if he wanted it, he wanted it and he should think some kind of advantage was being taken. The world was over. She didn't really care if they'd met the day before. Her flesh was warm and welcoming. He wouldn't say no. The air was close again, but still cold. She was eager, but quiet, cradling him as much as he held her. The peace before the chaos.
Marcus had his head tipped back, eyes open, sight full of the thick grey overhead that never dispersed. A nuclear winter. Ash in the rain. He remembered the fallout shelter that had been in back of the old grocery store in Abilene, the one had had closed down the year he was born. Would anyone have had the chance to get in that shelter before the bombs landed, or had Abilene been wiped off the map, leveled by radiation? More than that, he wondered if he cared.
It was threatening to rain. A chorus of peepers drowned out the faint sound of trucks on the highway a few miles away, occasionally pierced by a bullfrog, low and gulping, a sound that Marcus could feel in his gut. Brian would mimic the sound and they would both laugh. Marcus could feel sweat dripping down the back of his neck, down his spine, down the inside of his leg and he didn't object when Brian suggested they go for a swim. The light from the house was a pinprick in the dark, but easy to see. Not a lot of thick forest in Abilene. The pond was man-made, more mud than water, but when Marcus jumped in, it didn't matter. Mud was as much a relief from the heat as water was, and the smell made the two boys laugh.
Their splashing silenced the peepers, but not for long. Determined, the little frogs began to sing once the sound of water had reduced to the occasional splash. Brian told him that if they lay perfectly still, floating on their backs, then the fish and frogs would swim up to them. Maybe one would even think they were logs, he said, and they would get frogs jumping up onto their bare bellies and chests. They never did, but the possibility was enough to keep Marcus as still as he could in the water for what felt like hours. Brian would keep talking. He was always talking, telling him about girls, and junior high, and what life would be like once dad came back again, and how as soon as he got his license he would teach Marcus to drive on the dirt roads that laced between the rundown houses and town.
Marcus smiled and nodded in agreement when his brother suggested this, but knew it would never happen. As soon as Brian got his license it would be a lot easier for him to run off to parties he was probably too young for, run off to meet girls who thought he'd be their boyfriend, run off with cigarettes stolen from their mother's room, cigarettes Marcus would get smacked for stealing while Brian smoked them behind Abilene junior high. Brian wouldn't teach him to drive because he'd be sixteen, and sixteen was too old to be hanging out with a little brother. Marcus had already watched it begin, the way Brian slammed doors in his face when he tried to follow him and his friends. He'd asked Brian if he wanted to have a sleepover for his birthday like they'd done last year, hanging a tent made out of a tarp in the few scraggly trees by the pond. Brian had laughed and called him a fag.
But floating in the water, listening to Brian talk now, it didn't matter. He smiled and nodded in agreement because here, a Brian existed who would teach him to drive. This Brian let Marcus hide under his blankets the times they could hear their mother crying downstairs. The air was humid, hot and close, pressing on his mouth and nose like a damp towel. He could feel the rain waiting to fall and knew that as soon as the thunder rolled in, the peepers would stop singing. Quiet before the storm, the peace before the chaos.
When they woke up, Blair didn't waste time in getting her shirt off and explaining that if he wanted it, he wanted it and he should think some kind of advantage was being taken. The world was over. She didn't really care if they'd met the day before. Her flesh was warm and welcoming. He wouldn't say no. The air was close again, but still cold. She was eager, but quiet, cradling him as much as he held her. The peace before the chaos.