Black Box 86ed

by Kjelland, Andrew

  The next one is the just the child and the woman but they are both sad. The next another man comes into the picture, this time the boy is on the side by himself as the other two hold hands smiling. The boy this time his face completely filled in with ketchup. Like a balloon just red, in the middle of his chest a blob of grape jelly. I guess he was never into the subtle nuances of modern art.

  “O LAWRD WHO ARTITH IN HEAVENS, HOLLOW IS THY NAME!” He sounds like he’s screaming from the other end of the store now.

  Shivers once more flow down my back as I start grabbing everything that looks good and head to the end of the aisle. Roger, Over and Grace already waiting for me.

  “Let’s just get out of here that guy is really fucking with my mind,” Grace says.

  “THY KINDOM HAS COMES! THY KINDOOM IS COMING!!!

  “Ya defiantly,” I agree.

  We head towards the front of the store. I scan the aisle of clothes half expecting him to pop out and try to eat us alive. But there is nothing but the latest fall trends the attention getters on each rack filled with women whom if they weren’t so celebrated for their sexuality they would be treated for anorexia.

  “God what the fuck is up with that guy?” I ask.

  “He was obviously committed. Did they really just forget him in the insane asylum?” Over asks.

  “I don’t know, maybe they weren’t prepared for such a big attack ya know. They must have just rushed out of there.”

  A crash comes from the electronic section towards the back of the store, followed shortly by the fumbling of radio stations settling shortly on a hard rock song then quickly shut back off. “DAM DEVIL MUSIC!” We hear shouted over the shelves.

  Grace pausing then parts a line of clothes. There’s a dollhouse, a man and woman are sitting at the table in the little doll living room with a drop of spaghetti sauce in from of them.

  “Holy shit,” she gasps.

  I look over the house to a display couch; a mannequin with a nightie and smeared lipstick sits perfectly straight on it. A little travel pillow in its lap with what looks like a drool spot on it. A bowl of spaghetti sitting on the armrest next to it.

  “O my god that’s the saddest thing I’ve ever seen!” She cries. “We can’t leave him, we have to do something.”

  “Hey we have to go, he could have killed his mom who knows what he’s capable of.”

  Grace hesitates but doesn’t argue as we leave through the broken window.

  A helicopters hovers down the block.

  “Ok looks like we gotta stick to the back yards,” Roger advises.

  “Ya the streets are way to open,” I agree. We take off down the building. Running around the side towards a subdivision, we head north passing around the bags of chips and lunchmeat we took from the store.

  “What do you think is going to happen to him?” Grace asks obviously wishing she could do more to help.

  “Well he defiantly won’t starve to death. When this all blows he’ll probably just get arrested and they will send him back to the hospital or where ever he was at,” I comfort.

  CHAPTER...

  “Where are we going to go?” Grace asks as she stuffs a handful of potato chips in her mouth.

  “I don’t know where do you want to go?”

  “I want to see my parents.”

  “You want to go to Florida?”

  “I don’t know I just want to know if they are ok. I don’t know they are probably not home anymore, I doubt anyone is still in their homes.”

  “Where would they go?”

  God I don’t know they could have tried to go to my house for all I know.”

  “Here how about this we’ll get out of the city, circle around and go through Elle. If they aren’t there then we can drive to Florida.”

  “You would really do that?”

  “Ya of course if my parents were still alive they would be the first things on my mind. Plus I don’t exactly have any major plans for the weekend,” I smile.

  “Thank you Will” she says wrapping me in a hug.

  I pull her as close to me her hair wafting into and whipping my face. I hold her, letting her decide how long this embrace will last. But, something catches my eye. Something very distant yet very shiny at the edge of the horizon.

  “What the hell?” I hear Roger exhale behind me.

  “What is it?”

  “You… You don’t think it’s some kind of bomb do you?” Roger asks.

  The question ignored as we stand watching awe struck as the light slowly grows.

  “We... we need to get the fuck out of here,” Over whimpers almost to himself.

  Grace turns and looks as she grabs my hand. “O my god it’s a bomb it’s gotta be!”

  “What no, it looks like it’s already on fire though,” Roger observes.

  “O god you don’t think it’s a plane do you? Like someone accidently shot down a plane?”

  “Why the hell are we just standing here to find out what it is, we need to get away from it” Over cries.

  A soft sound floats to us, like air flowing out of a teakettle. Slowly growing louder. The object finally getting close enough to where we’re able to see what looks like it’s shedding itself.

  “It’s... is it falling apart?” Grace asks.

  “Well ain’t no bomb I’ve ever seen but we sure should be getting to some cover.” We side step under the nearest tree as it slowly careens overhead. Bits of metal and god knows what sprinkle down on us.

  It’s certainly not a plane, I think as I watch it fly overhead. It’s mostly made of what appears to be metallic cylinders with what looks like the remnants of pretty good sized square solar panels. The once soft teakettle noise now a full throttled squeal of hot air and twisting metal. Flying almost directly over us straight south to downtown Chicago.

  “A satellite?” Roger questions.

  “Looks like it to me,” I reply.

  “Jesus they even got satellites raining down on Chicago. God how’d that happen?”

  “I don’t know, I means it’s not like the rebels shot it down you know?”

  “Ya but they could of brought it down, like with some science mumbo jumbo bullshit?”

  “And what are the odds of that?” Over asks

  “About as good as us having satellite pieces rain down on us,” Roger retorts.

  We hear a man shouting down the block. Following the voice a man in maybe his early seventies standing on his porch waving his arms over his head. “Hey, hey, help!” He yells over the wind.

  “Hey, look.” Grace points.

  “What should we do?”

  “I guess there’s no harm in seeing what he needs help with,” Over sighs. Walking up to the house I immediately noticed his eyes sunken with heavy bags under them.

  “What’s the problem?” Roger asks.

  “It’s my wife. Can you help me?”

  “I mean it kinda depends ya know,” Over replies.

  “Here follow me.” He turns into his house.

  Walking in the stench of old mothballs and stale cigarette smoke hits my face. The house obviously suffering from a lack of upkeep, the hardwood floor having a noticeable give with each step. We follow the man into a stuffed and stifled living room. I stair at cobwebs in the far corner of the room just under a series of yellowed cigarette smoke stains on the ceiling. The old man kneels down in front of a woman in a wheelchair. Her breaths shallow and wheezing. From the back her paper white hair matted and stringy lacing over a Technicolor robe. The old man whispers something into her ear. Shuffling through the room Roger, Over, and I make our way in front of the woman. Her face a shallow grayish white, the veins under her eyes lightly showing as they lead down to nasal cannula hooked into her nose. The man kneeling beside her adjusting a dial on a large oxygen tank with its needle in the red. I look to Roger his face sunken knowing the questions about to be asks by the old man.

  Whispering to hi
m, he nods getting to his feet with a crackle coming from his kneecaps. He bends over the table grabbing a pack of Virginia slims, he lights one handing it to her.

  “I’m guessing you know what I’m going to ask of you folks” he sighs.

  “We can’t get her out of Chicago if that’s what you’re asking,” Over says almost bitingly.

  “No…no it’s not that. We are staying here it’s just her oxygen. You see she has emphysema and without her oxygen she’ll ahh… she’ll more or less suffocate without it.”

  “What do you want us to do about it we don’t know where one would be,” Over spits.

  “Hey calm down,” Roger whispers.

  “Well, it just so happens that I do know of one only a couple blocks from here I would of gotten it by my arthritis keeps me pretty limited in what I can carry.”

  Over sighs, “Where is it, and how heavy is it.”

  “Well I was bird watching the other day off the back porch. I saw an ambulance hit a light pole. The they just left it, I guess given the circumstances they have more to worry about than towing an ambulance.”

  I look back to the woman her face expressionless as she takes shallow puffs off her cigarette in between gasping breaths, staring lifelessly into a blank TV screen.

  “Could we have a minute to talk this through?” Roger asks.

  The man’s eye light up “yes, yes take your time! Mr....?”

  “My names Roger, this here is Over, Grace, and Will.”

  “It’s a pleasure, my name is Cliff and this is Cynthia.” Shaking each of our hand he turns leading us into the kitchen. “Here take as long as you need. Would you like some coffee or tea?”

  “We’re fine thanks.” The man leaves heading back to the living room.

  “We don’t have time for this. And I for one do not think it’s a good idea to take unnecessary risks for a woman who’s basically already killed herself.” Over says.

  “It’s barely two blocks away” Roger replies.

  “Ya two blocks wide in the open without any cover and plus we don’t even know if they have any oxygen. For all we know they could have taken them with em.”

  “I’ll do it,” Grace interjects.

  “What?” Roger and Over look to her obviously surprised.

  “I’ll do it. You see that guy? He loves her. We could help keep the love of his life alive for at least a few more days.”

  “No,” I reply.

  “You don’t have a say in this Will.”

  “I know but you aren’t going if anyone goes it’s gona be me, Roger or Over ok? I’m not trying to sound mean or chauvinist but you probably couldn’t even carry it.”

  “Then why don’t I just come with you?”

  I struggle with trying to come up with a good enough excuse.

  “Listen” Roger says, “I’ll go with ok? You two stay here and we will be back in just a little bit then we need to keep moving north.”

  Over obviously mad at being out voted, “this is stupid we are going to all get killed trying to add maybe two days to an already dying woman’s life.”

  “We aren’t doing it for her!” Grace yells. “We are doing for her husband. If this was happening to your wife what would you do? Huh?” She growls.

  “Hey, hey it’s ok, we have this settled.” I try and comfort her pulling my arm around her trying to calm her down.

  “Roger, you ready?” I ask.

  “Ya let’s just get this over with.”

  “Jesus I’ll go,” Over sighs. “I’m not gona make a teenager risk his life while I’m sitting pretty in the Amityville horror house.”

  “Jesus Christ lets move some ass then!” Roger barks obviously tire of wasting time.

  We walk back to the living room. “Show us where the ambulance is,” Roger says to the old man.

  “O God really, you’ll really do it?” The man’s voice showing life. “Here it’s right here,” grabbing a pair of binoculars he looks out the back porch. “It’s a straight shot, you see it’s right between the Blue and yellow houses about a block and a half away.”

  Roger double checks through the binoculars nodding as he looks to the ambulance. He turns to us, “if we aren’t back in thirty minutes just keep heading north. Don’t come looking for us, understand?”

  “O I was already planning on it,” I smile to him.

  He smirks as they head towards the door.

  “I can’t believe the shit I let you get us in,” Over complains as the leave the front porch.

  “How about that tea then?” The man asks.

  “O yes please.” Grace smiles to him. We follow the man back into the kitchen as he plays with a gas stove.

  “I was beginning to worry. Didn’t think I would ever see anyone without a military uniform around here.”

  “Do you know what happened? You know just what happened in Chicago?” Grace asks.

  “Well before the cable went out they were talking about how people needed one of those freedom stars. Everyone had to go to Union Station and get one and then they were gona offer em free ticket outta Chicago or something like that I guess.”

  “Why didn’t you go?”

  He sighs, “I tried, had her mostly packed up, but then my leg started actin up. When it gets humid the way it’s been I’m not much use at all, thought we could wait a day or two. Just get em a little later ya know. Next thing I know we have helicopters flying every which way sirens going 24/7. I was gona flag one of the cop cars down yesterday. See if they would help get us to a hospital for that oxygen and finally get a star.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Well I was on the porch just about to flag one down. I looked down the block for one and I saw… It was a three houses down, the Millers had the same idea we did I guess. But thing is, when they waved them down. The police tried taking the kids first ya see and Mr. Miller understandably didn’t want to let his kid go. Things escalated and Miller got a gun butt to the forehead.”

  “Jesus, they were doing that at Union Station.”

  “Last thing I saw on the news was that they were taking people was some place safe. Said national security would be jeopardized if they told where they were taking people. An they took bout all of them”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The whole neighborhood is gone. Never seen anything like it in the fifty years I’ve been living here. People either went to one of those stars places and never came back, or they just took off outta the city. I know more than a few of my neighbors here are stayin with family out in the country somewhere. That car bomb really ruffled a lot of folks feathers.” A mucus filled fit of coughs echoes down the hallway from the living room.

  “Don’t worry that’s normal.” He sighs. “I don’t know, how long we’ll make it even if they get that oxygen.”

  “What’s wrong, does she need a doctor?”

  “She needs a time machine, go back thirty years and quit smoking.”

  “Why do you let her keep doing it?”

  “Like it’s gona do much more to her ya know. She’s already… fucked,” he sighs heavily.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I sympathize.

  “Nothing to do about now anyways just have to make do I guess. Oh I almost forgot the tea.” He gets up rummaging through the cupboard.

  “Hey, would it be possible to get a cigarette from her”? I ask.

  “Will!” Grace scolds.

  “No, no it’s fine,” he replies pulling a teapot down from the cupboard. Turning to the fridge, opening the freezer he pulls out a pack. “Always buy em in bulk whenever I’m in Wisconsin. Saves us dam near a fortune.” He tosses it to me, “It’s the least I could do.”

  The cold pack in my hands I observe the long skinny package, “thank god menthols,” I exhale. “Do you mind?” I ask.

  He laughs in response as he turns back to the kettle. “Now, you kids want earl grey or Lipton?”

  “Ooooo,
Earl Grey!” Grace says with a smile.

  He turns to the faucet. “You kiddos are lucky, this is probably one of the last few days we can trust the water being clean.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well I doubt the water cleaning plant is even running right now.”

  “Are you going to leave then?”

  “No, no just have to boil it. Thank God I got the propane just a week ago, we could make it a good two months if we conserve it.” Another mucus filled cough comes from the living room.

  “You sure there isn’t anything a doctor could do?” Grace asks.

  “They’ve done everything already. Believe me if I could I’d pop out one of my own lungs an give it to her. I’ve taken her to every doctor under our HMO and nota one has anything new to say.”

  “How long have you guys been married?” I ask getting tired of talking about what my future may look like in fifty years.

  “Well let’s see. Met her in the hospital after Korea. She was a hot young nurse who I tried talking into giving me a sponge bath. She told me no after reading my chart to see I just had a broken arm. That musta been about forty five years ago. We got married a year later so I guess forty four years.”

  “That’s amazing” Grace gasps.

  “Yep been a long time, feels like I haven’t gona a day in my life without her.”

  “Aww,” Grace swoons. “Do you have any children?”

  “No, no kids. She wasn’t able to, we tried for years but nothing happened.

  “O I’m sorry to hear that.”

  He shrugs “God just had a different path for us.” The kettle starts to whistle at us. “Alright, any sugar or milk”?

  “No I think we’re fine.” I reply.

  “Alright then,” he turns back to us two cups filled to the brim.

  “Ooooo, my Gawd I haven’t had earl grey in so long. I love tea. Grace grins at me from across the table. I smile back as I turn to the window. The sunlight bursting in and out of clouds.

  “Checked the weather yesterday before the TV went down. Suppose to be quite a big storm heading through.”

  “When did they say it would hit?” I ask.