by VK Gregory
The more I thought that we might be the last living people on the planet, the more my stomach ached, ‘It’s just us isn’t it? Us and a world of living statues?’
‘You always think the worst, do you really believe the entire world has stopped and we are the last survivors?’ he made it sound ridiculous, and suddenly I felt it, the craziness of the afternoon. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of enormity that seemed to swell in my mind. The same feeling of standing in front of something massive, something huge. Or the feeling you get when you try to imagine the entire universe, the size of it compared to you. A single individual on a tiny planet, in a huge solar system, in a massive galaxy, in a vast unending universe. Billions of stars and planets and we were ultimately alone. And here I was, billions of people on this planet, and we might truly be the last ones moving.
We carried on our walk home; I stepped to the side of a woman, recognizing her as one of our neighbours. An elderly lady whose dog incessantly barked, day and night. I always tried to smile and be civil while imagining new and exciting ways to murder her yappy little dog. The dog’s mouth hung open in a soundless bark.
‘Look, it’s happened to the dog too,’ I bent down and looked at it, it’s tiny little furry mouth frozen in a moment of perpetual barking, ‘damn thing, never stops barking.’ Danny appeared next to me,
‘I bet you want to touch it,’ he said softly into my ear. A thousand things went through my mind and I stood up, ‘what?’
‘The dog, touch it. Stop the yappy little shit barking all day?’ I glared at him in shock, ‘it’s a joke Katy, lighten up!’ I may have considered a thousand ways to end the life of the annoying creature, but I would never hurt an animal. I stared at the dog a second longer then hurried on, down the road to where our house stood. Quiet, and free from livingstatues.
Our sanctuary.
Chapter Three
As we got nearer to our house, I felt my mouth go dry. A familiar blue car was parked outside my house, slightly askew, the shiny paint glinting in the sunshine. My house, my sanctuary…I knew that car. My mother’s. Inside she probably waited for us. Was she caught in this statue-silence like the rest of the world? I couldn’t see her like that. I heaved with sickness at the thought of it. My whitewashed stone cottage looked both deeply inviting, a haven from the twisted sights all around, and also a trap, something I would never unsee.
Daniel seemed not to notice my indecision as we approached the house, walking hand in hand, but not talking. We arrived at our front gate like any other day; suddenly everything seemed surreal; the rest of the afternoon might not have happened. Here I stood, outside my house, holding the keys in my hand. It could have been any other afternoon, of any other day. My brain seemed desperate to believe it. I would go inside, my mother would be there, with a cup of tea and a magazine, waiting. We would sit, and chat and nothing that had passed would have happened. I breathed heavily and quickly; I could will it to happen. I could force away the memories of the afternoon; I could make it true.
I squeezed Daniel’s hand, desperate for solidarity.
‘Shall I go first?’ he asked, breaking my willing, I almost agreed, but touching his hand, I suddenly remembered how he had almost touched the man with the motorcycle; how close he had been. l recoiled at the thought of letting him in there, near my mother. I could still hear the screams of the man in the car park.
‘I’ll go,’ I opened the front gate, lifting the blackened latch and pushing on the cold metal. The familiar squeak let me know we were home. My feet crunched on the gravely path as I made my way towards the waiting house. I could feel it, like a yawning pit of darkness, ready to pull me into this world with no escape.
My key jammed in the lock like it frequently did, giving me enough time to pause and summon strength, as I fiddled the key back and forth to get it moving again, I held onto to the normality of the moment, ready to let go of it all, and embrace the insanity of my new world.
Finally opening the white door, I immediately noticed the stillness, the unruffled calm and disquiet. It didn’t feel like anyone was home but it didn’t feel empty. It held the same stillness of the garden centre; the sound of man-made things still moving, boiler’s heating water, the hum of electricity, the slight vibration of the electrical items on standby, but the disquiet that seemed to come when all life had stopped.
‘Mother?’ I stepped into the warm hallway, my feet silent on the soft pile of the beige carpet, ‘are you here?’ I didn’t want to go into the rooms to check, I didn’t want to see. My heart beat louder than it should, and I could feel sweat beading on the palms of my hand. I stopped by the open living room door, not stepping inside enough to see the room, listening to the frightening thoughts my mind offered, taunting me that she was one of them. Statued.
I wanted to run and scream but instead I just stood there waiting until I caught a glimpse of the gilded mirror above the fireplace, in that polished reflection I saw my mother. She stood completely still, facing the window, so I could not see her face. I took in her burnt orange jacket, the auburn of her long, wavy hair, ‘No’. Running into the living room I called to her. She stood near the sofa, holding her cup of milky tea, ‘mother?’ my voice wavered in croaky whispers. I knew already, of course I knew, but as I walked around her, I wanted to be wrong. I willed her to turn her familiar face to me and smile as she saw me, caught up in a daydream perhaps, not this living nightmare. But I saw. She was, of course like the others.
With her face frozen in a moment of musing, bronzed lips parted as if about to speak; her grey eyes watched and followed me as I walked.
Did I sense recognition in her eyes? Pleading? How much was I imagining? My head hurt and I felt burning behind my eyes that threatened to burst forth. And too afraid to move, I resisted the urge to run, with muscles that wanted to collapse on the oriental rug beneath my feet.
‘Katy?’ For a second I thought my mother had spoken, but Daniel stepped in the room. He walked around me and looked at my mother closely, staring at her with his hands in his pockets as if watching an interesting museum exhibit. My throat ached and energy coursed through my body as I saw him examine her. I let out a moan of pain and shivered,
‘I’m sorry’ he reached out to touch my arm, but I pulled away instantly. The energy in my body, the fight or flight of fear, swelled into my consciousness. Redirecting the grief that swelled me. Sorry? Sorry that my mother was a statue? Sorry for his part in the death of a man this afternoon?
‘Sorry? Sorry…What exactly are you sorry about?’ his eyes darted about the room as he thought, ‘About my mother?
He stepped back, his face reddening, ‘I haven’t done anything wrong,’
‘You killed that man and you don’t even look sorry,’
‘How could I have known he would…die,’ he stuttered the last word, DIE; sweat had appeared on his brow,
‘You can still be sorry, you never say sorry,’
‘It’s not like I could know the rules of this world. Katy, it wasn’t intentional, why should I feel guilty for an accident?’ his arms were open as if to welcome me, but his unemotional plea did not reach through my fear and grief,
‘Because he was someone! A father, or a son, or a brother. He was someone to someone else,’ I looked over at my mother and held back a sob. He gritted his teeth and shook his head. Taking a moment, he breathed heavily, forcing himself to relax,
‘Listen, I know you’re angry and scared, but none of this is my fault, I didn’t do this. I didn’t somehow stop time Katy,’
‘It’s not time though is it? It’s just the people, the cars didn’t stop,’ the deflection had worked, suddenly we were discussing the mechanics of time instead,
‘I don’t know what’s happening but we need each other. I can’t lose you,’ I knew instinctively he that it made sense, I let the anger soften as I relaxed into his arms, it would be a very lonely world if I didn’t have him. I let myself cry into his shoulder.
‘Hey, I bet we wake
up tomorrow and everything will be normal again,’ He used soft, affectionate tone of someone telling a fairy tale to a child, not reassuring an adult, ‘Now, let’s have some food, you must be hungry, got to feed the kid,’ I did not feel like eating. He let me go and stepped around my mother’s living statue as if it were a bollard in the street. And I stayed and stared at her.
Dinner, sit down watch something, relax, a glass of wine, then bed. Everything we would done on any other day. I followed him into the hallway, brushing away the wetness on my cheeks.
Danny threw together a chicken stir fry. I loved to watch him cook, the ease which he chopped the vegetables, the natural way he chose the spices and sauces to perfectly compliment the noodles. The normalcy of watching him cook calmed me, I leant against the kitchen counter, holding but not drinking my wine, instead I focused on his hands and the way he never looked away from his frying pan.
I unconsciously sighed, thinking of the still world around us.
‘You okay?’ he glanced at me and I nodded automatically, ‘sit’ he said as he took the frying pan off the stove. I sat on the hard-wooden kitchen chair and took the plate he handed me.
‘Thanks,’ we sat in silence a while, eating the stir fry, appreciating the flavours, I looked at a forkful of noodles,
‘It doesn’t seem real,’
‘Are you insulting my food?’ he said putting down his fork. I couldn’t help but laugh,
‘No, come on. It seems weird that out there everyone is still and silent. We are here eating our dinner. like nothing happened,’
‘Nothing’s changed for us, not really. In fact, it’s better. No work,’ I considered that.
‘Seriously? Everything’s changed. This is like an apocalypse,’ I stared out at the night and the kitchen reflected back at us, suddenly he laughed, shoving in a forkful of noodles into his mouth,
‘Apocalypse. God you’re brilliant,’ heat rose to my face, blushing it red, almost purple, I stared down at my plate, tears prickling my eyes. I finished my meal in silence.
Chapter Four
I woke up and gazed around my familiar room, the memory sitting right at the edge of consciousness but feeling terribly like a dream. I took a few moments to stretch and allow my mind to fill in the blanks. By the time Daniel had woken next to me, reality had hit and I ran to the bathroom retching and shaking, somehow making it there before last night’s dinner made a return.
‘Katy? Are you ok? Morning Sickness?’ I glanced at him, head over the toilet, had he forgotten? Calm and blankness filled his face,
‘I just remembered’ I stood up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I glanced at Danny in the mirror, thinking he too would feel the reality hit, but instead he broke into a smile,
‘Remembered? My famous joke about the vicar?’ I shook my head and glared at him; his face showed no emotions as usual, immediately I walked towards him, my voice louder than intended,
‘How can you…’
‘Oh come on, don’t start. I understand pregnancy hormones and all that but I’m sure everything is fine outside now, whatever it was, a delusion? a hallucination, whatever,’ he smiled but his smile was neither reassuring, nor kind. He stood leaning his semi naked body against the door frame, his arms folded defensively in front of him.
‘Sure,’ I pushed past him and went back into my room, he grabbed my shoulder as I moved past and I stopped, trying to keep my breath calm. He let me go. Quickly, I threw on last night’s clothes, feeling Daniel’s eyes on my body as I stepped into my skirt and top. The chill in the room sent a shudder ran my spine as a cold breeze hit my neck. I turned around. Daniel had left. I panicked.
Faster than I thought possible, I ran out the room, hopping down the stairs with only one shoe on, past the photos of our lives, past the spare room, and then I stopped suddenly at the bottom. The quietness of the house made the sound of my fast beating heart even louder, as I breathed my ragged, fearful breath. I didn’t want to approach the living room door. I couldn’t bear to see all the scenarios my mind played out. So, I just stood there, listening as my breath settled nicely into a slower rhythm, my blouse still undone, my bra exposed.
I noticed Daniel watching me from the kitchen,
‘Have you—?’ I didn’t need to finish my sentence he glanced at the living room door knowingly, and his face wore a serious expression. He told me what I already feared, that the world had not restarted. Daniel smiled a soulful smile at me as I walked into the room, my anger settled into the grooves of my mind.
Nothing had moved, nothing had changed. My mother. Stopped, seemingly forever. Tears sprung to my eyes, but I didn’t push them away,
‘Guess I was wrong then,’ he stood next to me, ‘our own livingstatue,’ bile rose in my throat and I turned to face him, stomping my foot,
‘This isn’t funny Daniel,’ I stared into the eyes. They were both familiar and unfamiliar, somehow at the same time. ‘This is my mother,’ my voice was soft, careful. He stepped perilously close to her and I held my breath,
‘Stop it Daniel, careful,’ he held up his hands and grinned,
‘Oooh, look, scary hands’ laughing he danced and skipped around her,
‘Why are you doing this?’
‘Doing what Katy? Not moping around with a face like a dog’s arse?’ he looked at her, then at me.
‘Yeah, and you’d feel the same if it was your mother would you,’
‘Guess what? My mother is probably the same, and my father, and my sister, so…let’s not play the grief game, there is nothing we can do we can do here, for these statues. They are gone. I’m living.’
This was Daniel. This was Daniel during an argument, after a bad day, when I made a mistake. His mocking cruelty seemed terribly familiar, yet somehow unexpected; the abruptness of his change made me nervous. The fear that overwhelmed me, wasn’t just about this new world, or the statues. This man that I had once entrusted with my life and darkest secrets, he elicited a deeper fear than I had ever experienced. As he turned away from me, his darkness spiralled into our new reality, threatening to hurt everything it touched.
I opened the door and stepped outside into the cool morning air. The cold air roused me into the present, shifting the dreamlike quality of the morning. Standing in the doorway I stared outwards at the field beyond, looking for signs of life, willing someone to walk past. A survivor, like us. In the distance the sounds of faraway car alarms broke the otherwise choking silence.
‘What are you doing Katy?’ Danny appeared behind me and I started walking towards the gate, not looking back at him, ‘where are you going?’ I heard the door close and footsteps run after me, ‘you can’t go alone, it might not be safe,’ he grabbed my arm and I pulled it away from him
‘I’m going to see if anyone else is still moving. We can’t be the last ones,’ Danny nodded and followed me as I began to walk back down the street. Ahead of me, our neighbour stood, unmoving as before. Everything looked the same, but something seemed wrong. I stared at her, seeing her hand outstretched and the leather dog lead, just floating in the air. The dog. It was gone. Shocked I stared down at where the little yapper had been, and saw only a pile of ash. The same pile of ash that I’d seen after the man had died. I crouched down, staring at it, my mind racing with thoughts, very aware that Daniel watched me from a few paces behind me.
‘Someone is alive here, not just us,’ I called to him as he approached me,
‘How do you figure?’ he asked softly,
‘This. The dog has been killed, like that man’
‘What?’ he looked genuinely confused, touching me on the arm, he lifted me up, ‘what are you talking about?’
‘The dog, it was here last night,’
‘Don’t you remember?’ he waited, as if expecting some sort of response, ‘You did that,’
‘What? Of course, I didn’t’
‘Katy, think back. You stopped, I said something like, ‘don’t you wish you could touch it—’‘
&nbs
p; ‘Yes—’
‘And then you stood up, laughed and as we were walking away, you kicked it with your foot.’
I scrutinised his eyes, looking for any sign he was joking. He looked serious. ‘No, you’re lying, I wouldn’t do that!’
‘You did, I was there,’ my brain froze in a moment of wild fear and fantasy. Was he right or was he lying? My brain flashed movie-like pictures of kicking the dog, but they were fantasy, they couldn’t be real. I could almost hear the howl of the creature as it died.
‘No Danny, you’re a goddamn liar,’ I pushed him away, sweating and afraid. Why couldn’t I remember. I stood there, desperately working back over what had happened the night before, the conversation, walking away, ‘I would never hurt that animal, any animal’
‘Why would I lie about this? It was a stressful day, and we were both upset, it’s ok, I don’t judge you,’ he raised his eyebrows at me. I shook my head and breathed the cool air, then I turned and carried on walking, his words resonating in my ears, ‘why would I lie?’ Why?
Daniel followed me, still looking for a motorbike, so when we turned down a side road and saw a beautiful, shiny black and orange bike, parked next to the curb, Daniel ran like a child in a toy shop.
The leather clad owner stood next to it, frozen with the helmet and keys in his gloved hand ready to get on his bike. Carefully Daniel reached over and tried to pull the keys and helmet from the man’s hand, but he had underestimated the grip of the livingstatues; he would not let go.
Daniel pulled harder, I noticed the man didn’t even sway or move with the force, like you’d expect any human to do.
‘It’s like his grip is stone,’ Daniel grunted as he pulled harder, ‘give me the keys,’ he shouted, surprising me. Suddenly the weariness spread over me quickly like a flush of heat, and the day seemed colder than ever.