by Lilah Boone
He shook his head lightly. “There are presents for you.” With eyebrows raised he continued. “You should come out and open them up before I trade them for the last chicken stew MRE. It’s the end of the world, in case you missed the news flash. Christmas presents have become a very serious luxury which in turn makes them very precious commodities.”
Abby was intrigued but not quite ready to leave the confines of her self-imposed prison. She could think of a million other things to do besides mingle with seven people who were waiting for her to snap in a fit of grief.
“You can have them. Or give them to Evie. I know you’ve been trying to get her attention lately.”
Alex shook his head, again looking silly and child like. “They’re not from me, or Jim, or anyone else who lives in this bunker.” With that he left, the curtain closing again behind him with a flutter.
That had Abby’s interest peaked. If they weren’t from anyone in the bunker that only left one option.
She bolted from the bunk and ran out into the living area. Seven pairs of eyes turned to her immediately. Well nine if she counted the dogs.
Abby wasn’t exactly expecting the scene before her. The two tables that usually sat against the walls had been pulled out into the center of the room and pushed together. In the center, above a runner of pale blue fabric sat a small plastic Christmas tree with presents wrapped in bright silver paper pushed under its low branches.
“Wanna put the star on top?” Alex asked with a smile. “Or there’s some hot chocolate on the stove. It’s instant but still pretty good.”
“Don’t believe him Abby.” Evie turned in her seat, flashing a smile towards Abby. “He just got me to eat the MRE hot dog.” Evie made a face. “I don’t recommend it. Not unless you’re into eating foamy meat product.”
Abby didn’t want to laugh, but a rogue giggle tumbled out of her anyway. All eyes turned in her direction. Her stomach did back flips and she tried to breathe. She forced herself to walk further into the room instead of fleeing to the safety of her bunk.
When she didn’t speak, her uncle chimed in. “There are some things here for you Kiddo.” He paused, words sticking on his tongue. “They’re from Kyle.”
Abby shook her head a little, confusion sweeping over her. “How?” Her voice was less than a whisper.
“He stashed them away in here along with the tree and the little ornaments on the day the tornadoes hit. After he got back from town.” Jim handed her a cup of hot chocolate, gestured to Alex. “He told us where to find them.”
Abby almost laughed. Even in… her mind tripped over the word… death he was still surprising her. Choking back sudden tears she took a sip of the watered down hot chocolate.
She stayed with her companions, listening as they told stories of Christmases past, trying to enjoy herself. More than once she held back tears, choosing instead to smile as Alex rattled on about his family and the time he climbed onto the roof in his pajamas at the age of eight to prove to everyone that Santa was real.
Abby thought of her own childhood memories and how she had held on to the idea of Christmas magic for as long as she could, never giving up hope that a fat man in a red suit would show up through the fireplace and grant her little girl requests.
She closed her eyes tight, made a silent wish with such desperation that it made her heart ache. Give me hope, she said over and over again in her head. Give me just a little bit to hold on to. Please.
After a short time she politely excused herself and took her handful of presents back to her bunk. She wanted to open them alone so she could break down in private if she needed to. She didn’t want to make a spectacle of herself and ruin the night for everyone else.
There were three boxes; one fairly large deep shirt box and two medium sized shoe boxes. Abby had no idea what could be inside of them but she was eager to find out. With shaky hands she glanced at the tags where Kyle had scrawled her name in black marker. With eagerness and a touch of fear, she tore the paper from the biggest box.
Her breath became trapped in her throat as she pulled the item from the box, immediately recognizing it as a table top easel, obviously made by Kyle’s own hand. It was primitive, crafted from sanded and polished scraps of different thicknesses, yet somehow it was also extremely ingenious. Examining it further she realized the legs were hinged and folded up under the main frame of the easel. It would stand on its own, a freestanding easel and not a table top version.
“So that’s what he was building in the barn,” she mumbled quietly, thinking back to the day. A tiny smile turned up the side of her mouth, more full of sadness than anything resembling joy.
Taking a deep breath Abby turned to the other boxes. In the second one there were at least two dozen small tubes of paint, brushes, and thin pieces of plywood cut to fit the easel. He had thought of everything. Too bad the last thing Abby wanted to do now was paint. She couldn’t find the inspiration if she wanted to. A small note sat at the bottom of the box.
Paint Abby. Paint for you.
K.W.
In the third and smallest box she found two journals, both bound in black leather, and the copy of Oscar Wilde’s poetry she’d been reading just days before on Kyle’s couch. An inscription was scrawled on the inside cover.
To my lily girl.
She fought to keep her hands from shaking and turned to the journals. The first one she opened was blank, without a single word written on the pages. When she opened the second journal she could see that it was nearly full of scratchy handwriting.
January 4th 2012
Had the dream again last night. I’m still not sure what it means. I know it’s important - something I need to figure out - but I need some more clues. Or maybe I’m just losing it.
Abby flipped through the pages, breezing over Kyle’s detailed description of the past year of his life and his struggles with the visions that plagued his mind. There were lists of items he needed to buy: water, dry goods, dehydrated fruits, toilet paper – all survival materials.
Eager to see what he had written over the past few days, Abby turned quickly to the back of the journal. Her hands shook and her breathing quickening as she stopped on the pages she was looking for. She recognized her name among the words and edged closer to the light that hung on the wall beside her bunk. Though she didn’t need it. Not with the glow that continually flowed from her skin.
December 17th 2012
Met Jim’s niece tonight – Abby. She glows like something out of a sci-fi movie. Apparently so do I. I feel like I know her already somehow – and not in a vague, shallow sort of way. When I’m near her flashes from her mind pop into mine like rain drops dripping into a puddle - complete with little ripples of emotion.
I get a sense that she’s in this for a reason – a big one that I don’t understand yet. It’s coming soon. That’s why she’s here. She knows what I know – has had the dreams too. There’s a strong attraction, a pull towards her I can’t explain. For the first time in a long time I feel like writing poetry – poetry about the glowing girl I met on the porch of the Yellow House tonight.
There were no other entries. Abby flipped page after page furiously seeing nothing but blank white paper. Finally she reached the last page of the book and sucked in her breath. Her name jumped off of the paper, hitting her in the heart like a massive sledgehammer. She held her hand over the page to see it more clearly, letting her light drip over the words. She should’ve been wearing her glasses, but she didn’t feel like trying to find them.
Abby,
I don’t know how things are going to work out yet. I have a plan but I’m preparing for the worst. I guess if you’re reading this then the worst is exactly what’s happened.
I’m sorry. I know I acted weird, but I wasn’t prepared for you to come into my life the way you did. Especially not now. I wanted to be with you – had finally begun to believe we had some kind of shot. I should’ve made more time.
But now you have to step up. No feeling sorry for yours
elf. No wasting time away in the bunker. You are just as powerful as I am. Use the time below to harness that power. Prepare yourself and the others for the hard tasks ahead. The weight is on you now. You’re the only one who can save them.
I want you to continue the story. Use the blank journal to finish our saga of survival. Press on and don’t give up. You have such a greater purpose and I believe you have it in you to get through anything. I know you well. Remember?
There is nothing I can say now to make you realize what you mean to me and what I know in my heart we could be. I know that you were my one real chance in this life or any other, and I desperately wanted to take that chance with you.
In another time I will be waiting – searching for you to wander into my sights again, revealing to me secrets only the light of your soul can expose.
Fight to live Abby. Fight so that the human race can go on and we can come back to each other someday. One way or another we will get our chance.
Kyle
Abby felt the tears streaming down her cheeks and let them fall. She kept her eyes on the page, memorizing every word and every haphazardly scribbled letter until her eyes were stone dry.
How could he expect her to just move on? How could he think she wouldn’t grieve for him – for what could’ve been? No. For what should’ve been.
“How could he expect me to just forget him? To pretend like none of it every happened?” she whispered.
“Because there is no other choice. There are others to think about. They are counting on you now.”
Abby heard Kyle’s voice as though he were sitting right beside her. She listened but heard nothing more. She knew it was her own imagination. Her therapist would say she was filling the void created by her grief as a way to cope. Part of her didn’t care. If she was raving mad for hearing Kyle’s voice then she was content to be committed.
Abby sat back on her bunk, exhausted from tears and days of emotional stress. She left the book open to Kyle’s letter and closed her eyes. Before drifting off she willed herself to recover from her pain or at the very least learn to go numb again without medication; to shut down and refuse any further tears to fall from her eyes.
With a sigh she rolled over to her side and pretended Kyle was lying beside her. She let her mind drift to the one night when he had held her close, tried to remember what his breathing sounding like in her ear, what it felt like against the back of her neck.
Tomorrow she would try to live up to her potential, but not for herself. And not even for the seven people that wanted to look to her for guidance. She would fight to live only because he had asked her to. Only for the hope that in another life they might meet again.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Friday, December 28th 2012, 11:38am
Abby spent the next few days becoming filled with purpose and a significant amount of crazy. But she was quickly becoming accustomed to being a member of the insane.
Kyle’s voice had become a more prominent force in her mind and subsequently she felt herself drifting into a realm where she was sure only poor homeless schizophrenics had gone before.
She didn’t have the guts to tell anyone what was going on in her troubled head but she had come dangerously close to confessing to Alex.
He had become a good friend lately, someone she knew she could depend on. It still amazed her that ever since their physical relationship had ended they could spend time together as adults, talking about serious things and confiding in each other eagerly. But she still couldn’t tell him that she’d been having conversations with her dead would-be soul mate for nearly a week.
Abby couldn’t tell Alex that she had been staying awake into the early hours talking about life, love, and reality television with someone who was supposed to be a corpse. She couldn’t stand to imagine the look on his face. Then again, he’d believed her crazy ravings once and it had paid off for him. But Abby didn’t even believe Kyle was alive. She was positive he was gone and she just wasn’t ready to let go of him.
Alex had recently developed an attraction for Evie, not as though that were a shock to anyone. The tall and curvy Evie was arguably a serenely beautiful creature.
Abby watched the other woman from the confines of her bunk, noting how Alex examined her long legs and glossy black hair hanging down her back and to her waist in a tight braid. But Evie didn’t pay Alex the same kind of attention. Of course that didn’t dissuade him one bit. He liked a good challenge.
Abby looked on as they flirted by Evie’s bunk, talking in hushed whispers with Evie trying desperately not to let Alex make her laugh. Abby felt a tug on her heart, remembering Kyle’s smile with sudden sadness. She pressed a palm against the center of her chest and tried to breathe.
“Looks like Alex is making some progress.” Kyle’s voice echoed in her head a little too loudly startling Abby out of her thoughts.
Abby sunk back into her bunk and closed the curtain swiftly. “Jesus,” she muttered. “You scared the crap out of me.”
She heard his laughter bounce between her ears. “Sorry.”
“I’m such a freak.” She said the words more to herself than to her imaginary Kyle. “I’ve completely lost my damn mind. Not that I had much sanity to begin with.”
“Nah,” Kyle huffed. “You’re completely sane actually.”
“Right.” She pushed her hair back out of her face and crinkled her nose. “You know my shrink would most likely say I had developed a split personality to cope with my grief. I’ve been through too much therapy to believe I’m sane anymore. This is not my first neurosis rodeo Kyle.”
Again she heard him chuckle softly. “Well, maybe it’s not a bad disorder to have then. I for one am glad you’re certifiable.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled. “At least someone is happy about it.”
The curtain surrounding her bunk flew open making her jump. “Talking to yourself again Abbs?” Alex’s knelt by her bunk grinning. His thin lips turned up a bit more when he saw the look of shock on her face. He gave her a knowing look then gestured for her to go out into the living area. “Everyone’s waiting for today’s uh… meeting? Exercise? Whatever. They’re all sitting in the front room waiting for you.”
Abby shoved herself up from the bunk and followed him into the other room. She appraised the Gleamers, each of them glowing in faint pastels. The colors blended in pretty ways between the few who were close enough as to be touching. Hanna sat sandwiched on the bench between the yellow hues of Sam and Jake creating a pretty green where their individual lights mingled.
David grimaced at the far edge of the bench, his jaw tight making the cleft of his chin seem more pronounced. He rarely looked happy and everyone else was beyond trying to coax him out of his self imposed shell.
Evie leaned against the wall, Alex lingering just to her right. His eyes never left her face. Her soft green shimmer touched his arm, tumbled onto the wall behind her, outlining her body like a layer of sheer jade fabric.
Abby took a spot along the sink wall, smiling at her uncle as she scooted up on the counter beside him. “Okay, what we’ve tried so far has yielded very little result. So I came up with another idea.”
“You finally figured out that holding hands in a circle for an hour was getting us nowhere?” David’s voice held his usual bitter note.
Abby glanced in his direction then dismissed him without a word. He was just a pain in the ass. They had two other Builders anyway. It didn’t matter if he participated or not.
“I don’t like the way he looks at you.” Kyle popped into Abby’s head as she thought of David.
“Hush,” Abby hissed to Kyle. She went on with her makeshift lesson, allowing the group to think she was talking to David. “Anyway, I was thinking about Evie and what sort of power someone with a connection to plants might have.” Abby picked up a piece of dried apple from a bowl on the counter. “And I came up with this.” She tossed the apple chunk to Evie.
Evie caught the fruit and proceeded to stare at it
like it was an alien species she’d never seen before. “What would you like me to do with it?”
Abby sucked in a breath, hoping her crazy wasn’t about to start showing. “I want you to focus on bringing it back to life.”
“Bringing it back to life?” Evie’s echoed. Her confusion was obvious on her face. “How exactly would you like me to do that?”
“Focus your mind. Believe that you can rehydrate the apple, bring the molecules back into a state of movement so that life returns into the flesh.”
David twirled a finger near his temple. “And I thought the group meditations were ridiculous. This is beyond pointless.”
Abby did her best to keep her cool. “Do you have a better idea David?”
He smiled without kindness and shook his head slightly. “Not really.”
“Then why don’t you just sit there and be quiet. I think there’s a reason why I’m the only one in the room who’s glowing all white while you’re a sick shade of piss yellow.” She glanced to Sam and Jake. “No offense.”
The brothers shrugged their shoulders and glared down the bench to David. If there was a black sheep in the group David would be it. He had never uttered a positive word to any of them. Most of the time he kept quiet and looked on with his constant judgmental gaze.
Abby turned back to Evie. “Just try to imagine the apple is fresh and juicy and see where that leads. Believe it’s possible to bring life back into it.”
Evie nodded and, though her face looked reluctant, she closed her eyes to give it a shot.