The Summer the World Ended

by Matthew S. Cox

  Sergeant Rodriguez and Officer Lawson made for the car she sat in, while another six or seven cops descended into the bunker. Two went to the house. Rodriguez got in the driver’s seat, Lawson next to him.

  “You okay, kid?” asked Lawson.

  “I don’t know,” she wheezed.

  Sergeant Rodriguez tried to look reassuring, but the steel mesh between them reinforced the feeling of being in a cage. “Everything’s going to be fine, Riley. It’s over. We’re going to take you to the hospital for a routine exam, alright?”

  “‘Kay.” She glanced left at the dust trailing the ambulance racing off to a city that still existed.

  The car rolled forward and made a slow turn around the house. Locked in the back seat of a police cruiser, she stared at the building, wanting nothing more than to run inside and dive into her own bed. Rodriguez straightened out on a path to the dirt road leading to NM 51. Riley jostled in the seat, numb as her home slipped away from her for the second time in less than two months.

  “It’s over,” she whispered, shrinking in on herself. “It’s over.”

  ergeant Rodriguez guided Riley by a hand on the back through the halls of Sierra Vista Hospital in Truth or Consequences. Her flip-flops popped in a limp serenade that mirrored her mood. A small purse bounced off her left leg. Riley wasn’t sure if Sergeant Rodriguez broke policy again by bringing her home to clean up and change, but she was grateful for fresh clothes, real soap, and real breakfast―even if it did come from the cafeteria at the police station. For days, all anyone would say about her dad was that he was ‘improving.’

  An unlocked cell at the tiny, local police station had served as her bedroom for the past three nights. Aside from two trips to T or C to visit a shrink and a child advocate, she hadn’t been anywhere but there and an interrogation room. Sleep had been little more than periods of blackout while staring at the walls. At any moment, she dreaded she’d look up to find the cell locked.

  He pulled her to a stop at the side of the hallway. “Riley, your dad’s been taking medication for about three days now. He may seem different than the man you remember.”

  She fidgeted, grasping the front of her flip-flops with her toes. “Yeah. The advocate said he was schizophrenic.”

  “That’s right.” Sergeant Rodriguez nodded. “The man he was hearing on the radio isn’t real.”

  “Yeah. I kinda figured that out when Lawson said it had no antenna.” I’m a moron. I could’ve stopped all of this. She glanced away from the handcuffs on his belt, dreading the moment he’d use them. “Paranoia and hallucinations.”

  “I’m sorry, Riley. You’ve been through so much.” Sergeant Rodriguez held his breath, offering a concerned expression for a few seconds. “You should know he’s probably looking at a few years in a facility―a hospital, not jail.”

  Her lips quivered. Don’t cry. She swallowed. I’m gonna be an orphan. “‘Kay. That’s good, right?”

  “For him, yes.” He nudged her forward again. “We’ll be right outside the room if anything gets out of hand.”

  “I trust him.” She crept down the corridor staring at her feet, trying to radiate the impression she wouldn’t try to run away. No trace of polish remained.

  A few minutes later, a gentle squeeze and twist of fingers brought her to a halt by a door where a young Hispanic officer sat reading a book. His nametag said Roma. That’s the guy who shot Dad. He looked in his early twenties with short, black hair and a boyish face. It surprised her she didn’t hate him on sight. Perhaps because his fast reflexes prevented Dad from being responsible for murder. Of all the ways the situation could have gone: cop dead, Dad dead, both dead, things had turned out pretty good. It was bad enough what happened, but at least no one died.

  If he’d killed one, they’d have shot him for sure.

  A device on a post by the bed beeped in a steady pulse. Seeing Dad laying there with all the tubes and stuff plugged into him was scarier than sleeping in a cell at the Las Cerezas precinct, even if they had left it open. A twenty-four hour presence at the front desk was all the lock they needed to keep her there.

  Not like I have anywhere to run.

  Riley looked up at Sergeant Rodriguez. He offered an encouraging nod and patted her on the shoulder. She edged into the room and moved around to the right side of the bed, trying not to look at the handcuff linking her father’s left wrist to the frame.

  “Dad?” she croaked.

  His eyes opened. The beeping picked up a little speed. “Squirrel.”

  “Daddy.” She broke down, hugging the arm that reached up to touch her.

  “Looks like I’m gonna make it.” The hand brushing her cheek slipped around behind her neck and squeezed. “I’m so glad to see you. Those shorts are too short.”

  “You’re smiling.” She giggled through tears. “I’ve never seen you smile like that.”

  “I’m on meds.” A hint of shame peered through the fog in his eyes. “I… The… I’ve lied to you.”

  “I don’t care.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re alive.”

  “You kept asking me why I left, and I’ve never told you the truth.”

  Her throat tightened.

  “I figured out I had some head issues.” He fidgeted the blanket between his fingers. “It would only get worse, and I couldn’t admit it to anyone but Lily. I didn’t want you two to suffer through watching me decline. I fled like a coward.” His eyes watered, and it took him a moment to find his voice again. “I thought I was sparing you.”

  “Dad…” She rubbed a hand up and down his arm. “Why didn’t you get help? You keep saying you loved us, why did you go away? Why didn’t you at least try?”

  “I… didn’t trust the doctors. I thought they wanted to control my thoughts. I didn’t want you to see me like that.” He stared at the ceiling lights, lost for a moment. “I didn’t think I was that bad. Once I got out to the desert, everything seemed fine. I guess I fell into a routine.”

  “So you’re okay with meds?”

  “More or less.” He let his fingers slip off her shoulder and down her arm until he could hold her hand. “How are you doing? I… I’m so sorry for making you think everyone was dead. I wasn’t trying to―”

  “I know, Dad. They told me you couldn’t help it. You thought it was real. I’m a dumbass. I should’ve doubted more, but I kept seeing stuff… Korea on the news, those missiles… the bombs were scary as hell.”

  Dad let out a wheezy laugh. “The cops told me it was just an exercise. The ‘nuclear flash’ we saw was flares to light up the bomb range.” He almost giggled. “That explains why we didn’t evaporate. Guess I can’t really outrun a nuke. How are you holding up?”

  I’m going to jail. I’ve spent the past four days sick to my stomach. “Okay.” She traced lines on the bedding with one finger. “They haven’t let me see Kieran yet. I had to meet a detective and a psychologist. He thinks I’ll be okay. Said I was strong and resilient.”

  “You are, Squirrel. Just like your mom.”

  She moped. “He also said they won’t let me live with you since you’re nuts.”

  He cringed. “Yeah… Doesn’t matter anyway now. I’m going to wind up ‘involuntarily hospitalized’ for a while. Not exactly sure how long.” A dazed grin settled on his face. “They’re still trying to figure out if I’m competent.”

  “Dad…” She shivered. “I don’t wanna go ‘into the system’ when I get outta jail.”

  “Jail?” He cocked an eyebrow. “What would you go to jail for?”

  “Carrying a loaded gun, stealing meat, ‘brandishing’ a pistol at those two bikers. I didn’t… it was just in my hand.”

  “Look, Squirrel.” He squeezed her hand as the semi-coherent fog in his eyes flashed to clarity. “You blame me for everything. I don’t care. Tell them it was my fault. I made you carry it. Besides, it was my property… you were home. Castle doctrine.”

  “No, Dad.” She sniffled. “I don’t wanna lie.”
>
  “They’re just looking for conviction stats.” A familiar old gleam shone in his eye. “Kids in jail are dollar signs. The companies that run the facilities pay off the judges to throw kids behind bars for made up crap. You go in innocent and come out a mess that the mental health people squeeze money out of for the rest of your life. They’ll twist anything you say around and use it against you even if it’s nothing. Don’t say a word to them without a lawyer.”

  Riley trembled. “O-Officer Rodriguez is nice.”

  “That’s what they want you to think so you open up and give them enough to hang yourself.”

  She grabbed him by the shoulders. “Dad? The paranoia is back.”

  “You watch the news often enough. You tell me. Besides”―he grinned, letting his head fall against the pillow―“you survived the apocalypse… you can survive anything.”

  Riley wanted to laugh, but all she could do was flash a weak smile. “Yeah…” After a moment of silence, she bit her lip. “Dad?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Wanna watch a movie?” She took out a DVD case out of her purse.

  “Is that…”

  “Ratatouille.” She sniffled. “I hated this movie so much because it was the last one we watched together before you disappeared.”

  He cried, grabbing her with a tight one-armed hug, while mumbling, “Sorry,” repeatedly into her chest.

  “Don’t. It’s done.” She sat up, sniffling. “So?” She shook the case. “Movie?”

  “I’d love to.”

  Riley fed the disc to the small hospital-provided combo TV/DVD unit, kicked off her flops, and climbed up to lay beside him. Twenty minutes or so in, she plucked the half-eaten blueberry muffin from his tray and held it to her face in both hands.

  “You used to do that whenever we watched movies.” He stroked her hair.

  She leaned into his hand. “You used to do that every time we watched movies, too.”

  Sergeant Rodriguez poked his head in, glanced from them to the screen, and backed out without a word.

  Riley didn’t think about losing her father again. She’d gotten him back, even if he was a fragmented mess. He was still her father, her alive father.

  “If you were nuts, how’d you work?” She mumbled.

  Dad pulled her a little tighter. “I had a nice little savings before I left. Your mom helped here and there with the occasional donation. Real estate is so much cheaper out here.”

  “They said all Mom had was your email. How’d she send you money? Why didn’t she tell you to come home and get help?”

  “PayPal.” Dad swung his head around in a grandiose roll of the eyes. “Oh, she did sometimes. Not too hard though. Maybe she was afraid of what I’d do. I had a couple of scary moments.” Guilt washed over his face. “About a month before I left, your mother came home late from night school. I didn’t even recognize who she was. I’m amazed we didn’t wake you up.” He hesitated, lip quivering. “Neither of us wanted to hurt you.”

  “You wouldn’t have hurt Mom…” She bit her lip.

  “I…” He shook his head. “Not if I knew what I was doing no… that’s why I had to go. I didn’t trust myself after that. If anything would’ve happened…”

  She poked him in the side. “You should’ve gone to a doctor… gotten help.”

  “It all made sense to me at the time. I’m sorry, Riley. If I could take it back, I would.”

  Riley picked at her shirt. “How’d you live out here?”

  “There is a Ted… I did programming for him on and off. Bits of game code, network drivers, couple of custom inventory management packages. Pay isn’t as good as back east, but to New Mexico, it’s decent… I had a bunch of money saved up before I came out too.” A look of alarm spread over his face. “Damn, I need to pay the power bill.”

  “Bit late for that.” She nibbled on the muffin. “Mom knew you were nuts? She didn’t put that in her, uh, will.”

  “She kept threatening to come out here and drag me back to Jersey. I don’t think she was expecting things to happen when they did.” Dad kissed the side of her head. “Your hair smells nice.”

  A shadow moving by the door made her shiver and imagine handcuffs closing around her wrists as soon as she walked out of the room. She snuggled against him, no longer able to speak under the combined sense of Mom’s death, Dad going away, and her own imminent incarceration. All she wanted was to go home to her bed and hide under the covers. She’d gladly eat SpaghettiOs every day if it would put things back the way they were. Savoring every last moment with Dad would have to suffice. She cuddled with him as a cartoon mouse cavorted on the screen. Before too long, she giggled like a six-year-old watching a movie with her father. For a little less than two hours, they might as well have been on their living room couch, father and daughter laughing at a silly movie.

  Once the credits rolled, Sergeant Rodriguez stepped in and gave her a meaningful look.

  “I gotta go.” She started crying again.

  “It’s not goodbye,” said Dad. “It’s see you later.”

  She slipped off the bed, clinging to his hand until Sergeant Rodriguez cleared his throat. Riley tried not to feel sick to her stomach as she moped over to him. She clasped her hands in front of herself and stared down―at bare feet.

  “Oops. Forgot my shoes.” Riley took her time walking back to retrieve her flip-flops.

  “Don’t forget your disc,” said Dad. “I expect you to bring it next time you visit.”

  She sniffled the whole time she ejected and re-boxed it. After snapping the case closed, she walked over and wrapped her arms around him. “See you later, Dad.”

  He waved. “I love you, Riley.”

  Riley hesitated at the doorjamb, until the weight of the cop’s presence pulled her out of the room. Sergeant Rodriguez walked at her side through the hospital, down the elevator, and out through the lobby to the parking lot. She was grateful he’d spared her the embarrassment of being hauled around in handcuffs, but dreaded the moment they were out of the public eye. Were cops always this nice to kids looking at felony charges? How far could his charity go?

  Probably all the way to the police car.

  “Riley!” yelled a voice she’d never thought she’d hear again.

  Kieran.

  He came running over and grabbed her, lifting her off her feet in a breath-stealing hug. Riley lost the ability to speak for several minutes, sobbing tears of joy. She held on, legs wrapped around him, clinging for dear life.

  “They told me what happened. Did you really ask about me?”

  “Yes,” she wailed. “Sorry. I can’t stop crying.”

  “I drove out to pick you up Saturday, but the house was empty. Both cars were still there, so I walked around, but…”

  “Sorry.”

  “Hey, don’t blame yourself.”

  She sniffled. “I’m so stupid.”

  He gave her a firm squeeze and set her back on her feet. “You’re not stupid. It was a… oh, what do they call it? A perfect storm of coincidence.”

  The shrink said I’m still desperate for a father figure. Riley frowned at his shoes. “I’m gullible. I believed him.”

  “Anyone in your situation would’ve done the same. I’m so glad to see you’re okay. Everyone… uh, never mind.”

  “What?” She furrowed her eyebrows, tears stopped.

  “Uhm…” Kieran fidgeted and scratched his head. “People in town, they kinda thought the old guy’d finally snapped and killed you or something.”

  “Oh, my God.” She gasped. “He’s not that kind of nuts. I thought you were dead.”

  Riley shivered in place for another six seconds, and kissed him. His eyes shot wide. He stood there like an innocent bystander as Sergeant Rodriguez cleared his throat twice.

  “Sorry.” Riley lowered her weight back onto her heels, leaving her hands clasped around his neck. “You’re really alive. You’re really here.”

  “I know you, uh… got some stuff to deal w
ith, but call me.” He handed her a folded piece of yellow paper. “Call me as soon as you can, don’t care what time.”

  She took the paper and held it to her chest. “Okay.”

  Cold, foreboding dread seeped through her limbs as she faced toward the waiting police car. She paused at the door, waiting for the cuffs, but Rodriguez put a hand on her head and guided her into the seat. She almost suppressed the flinch when the door closed.

  Guess they’re gonna be friendly till I get sentenced. She peered up at Kieran through the window as the door closed, trying not to cry again. The wider he smiled, the more her heart ached with fear.

  Sergeant Rodriguez is being nice and not doing it in front of him.

  iley scuffed her feet back and forth, making a continuous ka-whoosh-snap with her flip-flops on the linoleum tiles. Fear was better than ten cups of coffee. Another sleepless night curled up in an open jail cell hadn’t done much for her nerves. Her fingers dug into an unremarkable brown bench in the hallway of some scary government type building in the heart of T or C. A few people walked back and forth, all in suits and looking lawyer-y. She kept her gaze down, ashamed. Every time a police officer appeared from a side hallway or walked by, she flinched, wondering which one of them would come for her with chains.

  Riley, the good girl, is gonna go to jail. Mom would be devastated.

  Sergeant Rodriguez had vanished through the office door two feet to her left over a half an hour ago. Only soft murmuring had come back out since. He’d asked her to wait here, by some miracle not tethering her to the bench. Of course, where would she go? If she ran, they’d only add ‘attempted escape’ to the charges… Besides, she had nowhere to run to.

  They’d find me at Kieran’s.

  She mulled back and forth over the four-hour meeting she’d had with some woman―Detective Contreras―that morning. Against Dad’s suggestion, she’d explained everything that happened as best as she could remember. She glossed over how close she’d come to shooting the biker, saying she was afraid he’d rape her if he got his hands on her. The detective, and the psychiatrist sitting in on the interview, appeared to agree her father had primed her into a suggestible mental state. They seemed to like it when she said she’d been terrified at the thought of shooting anyone.