by R. A. Rock
I wasn’t that tired but I felt exhausted. I wanted to escape this worry I had that was gnawing at my guts. And the only way to do that was to sleep. There was no reading on my phone or checking social media, since I didn’t want to waste the battery and there was no internet anyway. I felt sad at the thought.
Soon I was toasty warm in my little nest and I drifted off to sleep, thinking of Matt Brooks. And wishing that we could have been friends.
Or something more.
Nessa
I ambled over to City Hall the next day — which was sunny and made me feel hopeful — in order to see if there was any more information about what the hell was going on.
I sure was enjoying this break from my job. My whole life had been ruled by the bells at school. From age five to eighteen I had gone through the public school system in Thompson. Then university in Brandon to get my Bachelor’s of Education. And then back into the school system for my job.
I was so sick of having to be at a certain place at a certain time — never being able to leave and go and do what I wanted. I had hoped to someday have freedom of time and place and I had planned to get it by becoming an author.
I hadn’t wanted it like this. No, not like this.
Freedom on these terms was no freedom at all: it was anarchy. I blew out my breath and shook off my dreary thoughts.
Maybe there would be some good news at City Hall.
It was a typical April day with bright sunshine glaring off of white snow and blinding me. The walk had warmed my chilled bones, though I had to squint most of the way because I could hardly see a thing.
In the warmth of the sun, the snow was melting fast and if the high temperatures that had been predicted for this week kept up then it would definitely all be gone in the next few days. But for now, there was still a layer of it on the ground, reflecting the cheerful April sunlight and making it hard to see anything.
It had only been forty-eight hours with the power out and already there were people who had run out of food. It was rumoured that the grocery stores were nearly empty.
There were a few hundred people who were afraid they would freeze in their houses or apartment buildings who had been sleeping in the arena. Though the weather was staying around zero at night and just above zero during the day, so really they probably didn’t have anything to worry about.
Only forty-eight hours in and things were already starting to get chaotic. The thought sent a chill through me. Surely Hydro would get this sorted soon, and it would be a really good story to tell my parents and brother. I would describe it all in great detail, keeping everyone on the edge of their seats.
I snorted.
It would be a good story, no matter what… living it was a different matter, though.
I walked along the cracked sidewalk, avoiding the puddles and the patches of snow that weren’t melted. The wind gnawed at my cheeks and I was pretty sure they would be bright red by the time I got home. Still, once I was walking quickly and my blood got pumping, I felt warmer and the cold that seemed to have settled into my body went away.
As I approached City Hall, I saw that there was a crowd of about twenty people there. A couple women I recognized and there was a dark head that stood out above the rest, he was so tall.
Matt.
A thrill went through me.
I had thought it was a chance encounter, seeing him in the grocery store. And now here he was again.
Could the universe mean to bring us together?
I rolled my eyes at the thought.
You’re ridiculous, Nessa, I told myself. Everyone’s coming to check out the information board. Of course, you’re likely to see him. But my heart felt a little quivery just the same.
Matt was tall. And hot. Though he seemed not to realize it. He wasn’t like one of those gorgeous guys that knows exactly how good he looks and uses it to his advantage. No, Matt was handsome and so sexy but it seemed as though he was completely unaware of it.
I could see a small blond man addressing the crowd. It was the mayor. I jogged over so as not to miss what he was saying.
“…in fact, just this morning someone drove in from Saskatchewan and told us that starting from Regina, where he was coming from, all the way here there was no power. He was able to still purchase gas from gas stations along the way because the owners are siphoning it out of the tanks. He also mentioned that there was almost no one on the roads.”
“So, you’re saying that the blackout is widespread?” a woman asked, her voice higher pitched than maybe she had intended it to be.
I made my way over to Matt and stood beside him. He looked startled when he saw me and the expression on his face was grave, but he gave me a weak smile.
“So Winnipeg’s out too?” I whispered to him. The thought that the capital of the province, with over 700 000 people might be without power was freaky. What would happen in a city that size without the basics?
He bent down and spoke in my ear and I repressed a shudder. A man’s whispering ought not to be so pleasurable. And Jesus Christ, I needed to focus. It looked like we were in the middle of something serious. I should not be getting distracted by Matt’s whispers.
“As far as they can tell,” he said softly. “All of Manitoba has no power, as well as Saskatchewan. There’s no internet anywhere or signal. Winnipeg is already implementing emergency measures.”
“We can’t expect any help from down south,” the mayor went on and a grumble went through the crowd. “The government is requesting that everyone ration their food and water, and just stay home. We need to remain calm and be patient. Manitoba Hydro is working on the problem.”
“What is the problem?” Matt said, raising his voice.
The mayor scanned the crowd until he spotted Matt’s raised hand.
“No one is exactly sure but it is thought to be a huge EMP event. It took out everything in our area, possibly all of Canada.”
“Oh my God, I read about that on…” I whispered but the mayor and Matt were continuing their exchange and I stopped talking and paid attention. I could tell Matt later.
“Natural or man made,” Matt said, his voice hard.
“That’s also unknown,” the mayor said but his eyes looked a little shifty and I wondered what he wasn’t telling us. “But the authorities think it was a solar flare. Remain calm and be sure to ration your food. I’m sure things will be back to normal in a week or so.”
As he returned to City Hall, there was worried murmuring in the crowd. I glanced at Matt to find his bright blue eyes on me.
“Not that it matters now,” I said. “But I read about the solar flare online. On the day the lights went out. They were predicting that it would be one of the biggest on record and they weren’t sure if it was going to hit the Earth or not.”
“Guess it did,” he said with a shrug. Then he tilted his head and studied me.
“Are you doing okay? Do you have enough to eat?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, amazed by the concern I saw on his face. “I have enough for a week till the hydro comes back on. You?”
“I’m good,” he said. “But I’m worried about my mom being without her medicine. And there’s no one there is she has one of those low blood sugar incidents.” He breathed out forcefully in frustration, running his hands through his hair.
“You must be so worried,” I said, thinking that if I was in his position, I would be going out of my mind.
He nodded, solemnly.
“What are you going to do?”
“I have to get out there.”
“Do you have a vehicle?”
“Yes, but not enough gas. And I already went to every gas station in town. They’re all out. The trucks deliver gas on Thursday so almost all the tanks were empty on Tuesday… and then when the hydro went out the trucks never came. Plus, everyone’s gone and filled up their vehicles.”
“Oh no,” I said, but he didn’t stop talking.
“Before you got here, the mayor
told us that they’ve had people stationed at both ends of town, trying to keep track of what’s happening and he told us that many of the people who are from the outlying communities have been leaving, trying to get home to their reserves and towns. No one can work, so they may as well head out.”
“That makes sense. And also explains why all the gas is gone. I suppose everyone else wanted to fill up their cars just in case.”
“Exactly,” he said, with a nod. “I have less than a quarter tank.”
I sighed.
“Me too. I didn’t think to gas up yesterday. I honestly didn’t think this would last even this long.”
“Nobody did, Nessa.”
“Well, I hope you figure something out. Maybe you can catch a ride with someone?”
“Yeah, I may do that. If necessary, I’ll walk but I don’t think it’s come to that yet.”
I examined him closely, wondering if he was insane. It was eighty kilometres to Sipwesk lake where his mother’s and my cabin were located.
“Surely it won’t come to that, Matt,” I said, frowning. The anxiety descended full force into my stomach and made me feel a little sick.
“Probably not,” he said, giving what he likely hoped was a reassuring smile. “But my mom is pretty important to me and I’m… worried about her.”
“Yeah, I’m kind of worried about my parents, too. And I have no way of finding out what’s going on with them.”
“They’re still on their acreage, up north?” He indicated the direction with his chin.
“Yeah. But they were visiting my brother in Edmonton and Dad was supposed to fly them back about the time that the solar flare hit. So who knows what they did.”
“That sucks. I hope they’re okay.”
“Yeah, me too,” I said, not really wanting to think about it. “Well, good luck, Matt. I hope you get to your mom.”
“Thanks.”
I began to turn away from him, wanting to go read the reports on the bulletin board they had erected on the lawn in front of the building.
“Hey, Ness?”
I swallowed hard at hearing him call me by my nickname. If only we could have been friends all this time. Or something. With a sigh I pasted a smile on my face and turned around to look at him.
“Yeah?”
He studied me for a long moment and I held my breath wondering what he wanted to say. He seemed to change his mind at the last moment.
“If you need any help, I’m living at my parents’ house on Yale.”
Yale Avenue. Our old stomping grounds.
We had been next door neighbours and we had played every single day as kids until I had moved to a different school. Soon my family moved to Riverside so my brother and I could walk to the new school, instead of needing to be dropped off every day. I hadn’t seen Matt much after that, till high school.
Remembering our houses, sitting together, side by side as if they were telling secrets to each other brought a fresh wave of regret washing over me. If only we could have been real friends, or more than friends. My heart lamented as I thought of what might have been.
“Okay,” I said, holding his gaze. “Same for you. If you need help, I’m at 39 Greenway.”
His eyes lit up and he nodded, a surprised smile on his face.
“In times like these, old friends have to stick together,” I said, remembering that he had only just moved back. Maybe he didn’t have anybody else to depend on. And for a moment, I saw only the boy I had hung out with everyday after school when we were little, not the intimidatingly gorgeous man standing before me.
“That’s right,” he said, nodding. “Okay, see you, Nessa.”
I smiled.
“See you.”
Though I doubted I would, the thought of seeing Matt again, made me happier than it should — especially under these circumstances.
At the thought of what I had learned only a few minutes ago, I felt sober. At least two whole provinces were without power. Who knew what was going on in the rest of the country? And we didn’t know when it was going to come back on.
There would be no more goods arriving on demand. No more electric lights. No more heaters keeping us warm and safe from the deadly cold that lurked all winter outside our doors. There would be no more food trucks arriving every day to feed us.
And that’s when it hit me.
We were completely cut off.
Northern Manitoba was well and truly lost.
Matt
The blood was still pounding in my veins from my short encounter with Nessa. God, she affected me more than any of the women I had actually had sex with. And all we had done was chat. I pushed all thoughts of her out of my mind, though, as I made my plans.
I had to get to my mother. And if I couldn’t get there by vehicle, then I would find another way.
My long strides ate up the distance from City Hall to the house on Yale. It was warm and I took off my coat and tied it around my waist. It was good to feel the sun on my face again.
It was a fair ways to my parents’ home but I covered it quickly, worry about my mom eating at me the whole time. The mayor’s news was not good. And it was what he wasn’t telling us that worried me more. I was sure he had been instructed to keep us on a need to know basis and to try and maintain calm.
The last thing we needed was panic in the streets.
I knew that.
The biggest danger would come from other people — the idiots in town that would really start to lose it if the power didn’t come back on and civilization truly started to crumble. I thought of my mother again and was reassured that at least she would have food to eat.
A few years ago, when I had gone through my prepper stage, I had dug a hidden root cellar for her. Now, you need to understand we’re in the middle of the Canadian Shield here and there’s a lot of damn rock. The fact that I had found a place on her lot where there was actually enough dirt to dig the cellar was a frickin’ miracle. And I had still had to bring in a few loads of dirt to completely hide it.
It was a thing of beauty and I was so proud of it. I had cemented the entire thing and then tiled the inside so Mom could easily keep it clean. There were tons of shelves and I had built in a portion of it that was hidden behind a secret door.
And yes, I probably read too many Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew — hey, she was a really smart chick, okay — and The Famous Five books as a kid.
I smiled to myself as I thought about that root cellar. I had shown Mom how to get in and out without being seen. And I had instructed her to only go into it when she absolutely had to, to get more supplies. We kept it well stocked, with the produce from her garden in the fall and then from the grocery store when the food she had grown herself ran out.
So, at least she had that.
As long as nothing had happened to her.
Our next door neighbours, Mr. Beaulieu and his wife always checked on my mom but I knew they were away visiting their children right now, so she was essentially alone. And it was killing me that I couldn’t know for sure if she was alright. Especially because if her sugar was out of whack and she passed out, she might be in a coma right now. And if she stayed in a coma without help then she might… But no. She was probably fine.
But there was no one to help her.
I huffed out my breath at the thought.
I had to get out there.
Now.
Ever since my Dad had died unexpectedly of a heart attack last year, I had been concerned about my mom — and missing my dad pretty much every day. I felt responsible for my mother now that he wasn’t here anymore to take care of her. And though I knew she was independent and could take care of herself, I worried about her anyway because of the low blood sugar episodes.
When she got Type 2 diabetes her doctor had told her that she should be able to manage it just by watching what she ate, exercising, and using the pills. But when she was unable to manage it properly and she had had that hypoglycaemic episode where she ended up in a coma,
that really freaked me out. That was why I was here. To take care of her and keep her safe. But already I was failing at that. I shook my head.
My dad had made it clear that my job as a good man was to take care of and protect my family — especially now that he was gone. It was my job. I couldn’t do anything for sister since she was in Poland with her fiancé. But my mother… I was supposed to take care of my mom.
What kind of a son was I?
After everything my mother had done for me.
I needed to get back to the lake and make sure she was okay.
For some reason at that moment, I remembered the time when I was a boy and I had tried to make a cake. I had wanted to do it all by myself. And I had tried so hard. I had been so careful with the measurements and timing it in the oven. It had taken me hours. I had followed the recipe exactly and it had turned out… well, not that great. It was lumpy and the icing had been too runny. But I was proud of it.
Then I was moving it to the table from the kitchen and it was late and I was tired and I was only a kid after all and…
I dropped it.
On the floor.
The whole thing.
A pile of cake on the dirty kitchen floor.
Inedible after all the work I had put into it.
I was so disappointed, I had bawled — my heart broken.
I still remember how my mom had come running, seen it all at a glance — the cake on the floor, the flour on my nose, the disaster of a kitchen — and understood my pain.
She hadn’t tried to tell me that it was okay or that we would make another one or that I shouldn’t worry about something as unimportant as a cake.
She had just pulled me into her lap and rocked me and kissed my floury face while I cried out my pain. When I had exhausted myself, she sent me to take a shower and put on my pyjamas while she cleaned up the mess for me. And when I asked her if I could try to make a cake again tomorrow, she said, of course and offered to give me a hand.