“But people die in tsunamis and earthquakes,” Londyn says.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t joke about that.” Mack puts down his iPad and adjusts his dark glasses.
“I just wish my dad would come home. Then I don’t care what happens. If he was here…” Londyn hugs her knees to her chest and hides her face.
I close the laptop and sit next to her on the bed. I don’t know what to do or how to make her feel better. There’s nothing in my bug-out bag or in the blue bins in the basement meant for comforting someone who is hurting on the inside.
I touch her leg. She reaches up and squeezes my hand. The room is quiet and still until Bubbles farts—filling the space with sound and smell.
“That wasn’t me!” Mack says.
Londyn laughs and lifts her head. “Can we take a break from talking about the asteroid?”
“Yeah,” I say, and she lets go of my hand.
“Let’s do something on the bucket list,” Mack suggests. “We’ve only done a few things. I want to bungee jump.”
“No!” I snap. “No bungee jumping. I hate heights. Indoor rock climbing taught me that.”
“One of the advantages of being blind. No fear of heights!”
“Where’s the list?” Londyn asks.
“Elle has it. I think she planned to destroy it.”
I get up and shuffle papers on my desk. “It’s right here.” I hold up the mint-green sheet.
“Give it.” Londyn reaches for it. I know she’s still worried about her family, but at least this gives her something to focus on.
Her finger slides down the ideas and comes to a stop. “This one.”
I look at what she’s pointing to. “Who put karaoke on here?”
“Mack made me,” Londyn admits.
“Yes, yes, yes. Let’s do it. Jade told me about a coffeehouse that does karaoke on Fridays.” Mack is on his feet like we should leave right now.
“I hate singing. No way I’m doing it in public.” I cross my arms.
“You’re probably bad at it too,” Londyn says.
“We can sing apocalyptic songs,” Mack suggests. “Like ‘It’s the End of the World as We Know It.’ ”
“That’s a real song?” I ask.
“Dude, how do you not know that one? It’s your theme song.”
Londyn looks at me and shrugs.
“I’m not singing in public,” I repeat.
“We’ll do it right here. Right now.” Mack tells his iPad to play the song. We listen to it three times at top volume. Then he finds the karaoke version.
“I love it!” Londyn screams over the music. She pulls us up to stand on my bed like it’s a stage. I hold the iPad with the lyrics, but we jump around too much for me to read them.
We sing the words. We get them mostly wrong. We don’t care because it’s the end of the world as we know it and we feel fine.
I make ziti for dinner. Italian food is my favorite, and it’s easy to cook. Noodles, sauce, and cheeses. Bake. Voilà! And it’s special tonight, because in just over two weeks, I won’t be able to voilà anymore.
Edward is complaining that the sauce is too spicy when my cell phone buzzes. I assume it’s a text and ignore it. But then it vibrates again and again. Someone is calling.
“Can I answer it?” I ask Dad.
He nods.
I grab the phone off the counter. Londyn’s name is on the screen.
“Hello?” She doesn’t call very often.
“Turn on the TV. Channel twelve. Now.”
“Why?”
“Turn it on. Just turn it on!”
“Okay.” I rush into the family room, almost tripping on Bubbles, and grab the remote.
On the television, a news anchor is thanking some reporter for a story on a wildfire. Then he looks into the camera to introduce the next segment.
“This is it!” Londyn yells.
“A former Harvard professor is getting a lot of attention online with his dire prediction.” Dr. Cologne’s picture flashes across the screen.
“Oh my gosh!” I scream.
“What is it?” Edward screams.
Phillip and Edward jump out of their chairs and join me in the family room. Dad gets up more slowly.
“Dr. Martin Cologne claims a three-mile-wide asteroid will collide with Earth on April seventh. He’s amassed a large following of believers, including some prominent individuals. Celebrities like Josh Cannon and Martha Freeman, religious leaders around the world, and the mayor of the town of Clevelandville, Wisconsin.”
“I’m calling Mack too. Hold on!” Londyn yells in my ear.
I look back and forth between the TV and Dad. This is on the news. He has to believe it now. This is the NEWS. This is what we’ve been waiting for!
On TV, a bald white man talks to a reporter. “Clevelandville will be ready, because we aren’t taking any chances. We aren’t gambling with people’s lives.” The camera shows a basement full of food and bottled water. Rows and rows of it.
The report comes back on. “Reading through the website, we realized that the residents of Clevelandville aren’t the only ones preparing. We met Bill and Rosemary Keene. Bill has quit his job as a manager at a 911 call center. And Rosemary has left nursing school. They’ve cashed in their savings to build this bunker. They’ve asked that we not give their exact location.”
On-screen, Rosemary walks us through their bunker. Pointing to an air purifier, she says, “We can stay down here for six months. Minimum.”
I wish we had a real bunker. Though I hate the thought of being stuck in a small space with Phillip and Edward for more than six minutes.
My phone beeps. I hear Mack and Londyn both on the line.
“Dude, it’s your scientist!” Mack says.
“I know. Shh.” I pull the phone away from my ear to hear the TV better.
“According to the website,” the reporter continues, “thousands of people have made major life changes.”
Dad shakes his head.
“It’s not too late,” I whisper to him, then focus back on the TV.
“But is Dr. Cologne right?” the reporter asks. “We’ve contacted NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory in California.”
“There is absolutely no threat posed by this asteroid,” a black woman in a gray suit says. “While 2010PL7 was originally classified as a near-Earth asteroid when it was discovered in August of 2010, it was quickly removed after several agencies verified it would not approach the twenty-lunar-distance threshold. It has a zero percent chance of entering Earth’s atmosphere. Zero.”
“Dr. Cologne says he’s calculated an inevitable impact,” the reporter says. “Is he wrong?”
“Yes. There are millions of meteoroids and asteroids. Hundreds pass by Earth every year. Our Sentry system monitors these situations and makes predictions one hundred years out.”
“Sounds like that technology could have helped the dinosaurs.”
The woman grins. “Definitely.”
The reporter comes back on alone. “Dr. Cologne spoke to us via Skype.” The scientist appears on-screen. “Dr. Cologne, we cannot find an astronomer to corroborate your findings that an asteroid will strike Earth in the next few weeks.”
“No, you cannot find an astronomer brave enough to admit that I’m right. They are worried about backlash from the community. They’ve seen what’s happened to me. I was dragged from my office. Fired!”
“If the world is ending, what do they have to lose?” the reporter asks.
“What do they have to gain? These scientists are preparing. They aren’t concerned about you and me. They know this is happening and they are taking care of their own.”
“Dr. Cologne, are you suggesting they’re keeping these findings secret?”
“What I�
��m saying is that an asteroid will strike Earth on April seventh. You can choose to be ready, or you can choose to put your family at risk. I will be ready.”
The reporter turns to the camera. “One way or another, we will find out on April seventh.”
As the anchor and the reporter joke about how they would like to spend their last week, Dad picks up the remote and flicks off the TV.
“Can you believe Dr. Cologne was on the news?” Londyn shouts in my ear. “He looks older on TV than he does on the computer. And he’s a little scary.”
“This is great.” I feel a pressure lift off me. “Mack, did your parents watch too?” I wonder if Grandpa Joe saw.
“Yeah,” he says. “I guess everyone knows now.”
Dad stares at me. His eyes narrow. The muscles in his jaw twitch.
“I have to go, guys. I’ll call you later.” The ziti in my stomach churns.
“Is that true? Is this really going to happen?” Phillip asks. “Are we going to be hit by an asteroid?” His face turns red like he’s having an asthma attack. He doesn’t have asthma, but I saw a kid named John have an asthma attack during field day in fourth grade.
“No. It’s not happening.” Dad massages the bridge of his nose. “They were illustrating the lunacy of this doctor. They were poking holes in his theories.”
“No.” I shake my head. “He had answers for everything. He answered every question. Weren’t you listening?”
“Weren’t you?” Dad snaps.
I flinch.
“I’m sorry.” He walks back to the kitchen. “Please go to your rooms. I need a minute to think. I’ll be up soon.”
“But, Dad, the world is—” Phillip is close to tears. I grab his arm.
“Come on.” I squeeze, and for once, he trusts me. I walk him and Edward to their room. Bubbles is right behind us.
“Is it true?” Phillip asks, grabbing the stuffed T. rex from his bed and hugging it to his chest.
“Yes.” I lift his chin so he’s looking at me. “But you don’t need to worry. Okay? Grandpa Joe and I will take care of you. And Dad too.”
“An asteroid killed all the dinosaurs,” he says. “They’re extinct.”
“I know. But we’re smarter than dinosaurs.”
“Stegosaurus had a walnut-sized brain,” Edward adds as he jumps on his bed.
“Good to know.” I turn back to Phillip since Edward doesn’t need any reassuring. “I’ve known about this asteroid for months. The basement is full of supplies, and I’ve even emailed Dr. Cologne—the guy on the TV. He told me that the asteroid won’t strike in North Carolina. It’ll probably hit Antarctica.”
He nods at my lie.
“We will survive impact and we have everything we need for the weeks and months after. I promise, we will be okay. You believe me, right?”
“Yeah.”
I’m tempted to give him a hug but instead mess his hair. He slaps my hand away and practically growls at me. And I know he’ll be fine.
In my room, I text Londyn.
ME: That was awesome. The news! The REAL news!
LONDYN: Totally awesome
ME: My dad saw. He’s not happy.
LONDYN: What happened?
ME: Nothing yet. He’s thinking.
LONDYN: crap! thinking adults are never good
ME: I know
LONDYN: I hope my dad saw it!
LONDYN: I’m going to look for a link. I’ll email it to him.
ME: OK. TTYL
Waiting for Dad is like waiting for a flu shot. It takes forever, I’m dreading it, but there is no avoiding it either. I keep my door open. I can hear him slowly walking up the stairs. My heart speeds up with every step.
I hold my breath, thinking he might go to the boys’ room first. He doesn’t.
“Eleanor,” he says, making my name sound ten syllables long. “I’ve tried to tell you that this prediction is not real.”
I twist my paracord bracelet.
“For some reason, you won’t believe me. You won’t believe any other scientists. You’ll only listen to this discredited crazy man with a website. I’ve been asking myself why that is.”
When he looks at me for an answer, I look away.
“I thought maybe it was your grandfather’s fault. For years he’s taken you kids survival camping and fed you MREs like they’re an actual dinner. Maybe all the practice has made this inevitable to you.”
I shrug.
“I don’t think that’s it. You haven’t been enthusiastic about Grandpa Joe’s prepping in years. Not since elementary school.”
“I don’t—”
“Listen for a minute.” He pulls out my desk chair and sits. “Are you hoping this is real? Do you want the world to end? Do you believe this possible catastrophe is a good thing?”
“No.” I sniff hard. Londyn wants the world to end so her parents will get back together. That’s her, not me.
“I don’t know what you’re feeling exactly. I’ve never been a twelve-year-old girl, and without your mother here…” He takes a deep breath that makes his body shake. “Maybe I’m not asking the right questions. I don’t always know what you need.”
“I don’t need anything.” Except for you to believe me.
“Is something happening at school? It’s not always easy for you, and that’s okay. You don’t have to do it alone.”
“School’s fine.”
“Then what’s going on, Eleanor? Please talk to me.”
“Nothing. I don’t want the world to end. That would be stupid.” I play with a loose thread from my blanket.
“Wanting to change a situation is not stupid. It’s normal. When adults don’t like something, we try to change it. Or we complain a lot. Kids your age don’t have the same options.” Dad rubs the back of his neck. “I think we should have you talk to someone.”
“To who?” I ask.
“A doctor.”
“Dad, I’m fine. I don’t want the world to end. I don’t want Dr. Cologne to be right. I don’t. I promise.” I pull a blanket up to my chin, and Bubbles jumps up and tries to wiggle her way into my fortress.
“But you think he’s right.” Dad speaks softly.
“He is!” Bubbles jumps away from me. “How can I make you believe me?”
“You can’t.” Dad moves from the chair to my bed.
I turn over and bury my head in my pillow. He rubs my back.
“Eleanor, I love you.” He takes another deep breath. “I’m here when you’re ready to talk. Whatever is bothering you, I hope you’ll let me help.”
I try to nod with my head buried. He waits for me to say more. It feels like an hour. My eyes fill with tears and every muscle hurts.
“I need to go check on your brothers,” he whispers. “I’ll be back.”
I lie still. I want to melt into my bed. Just stay here forever and not worry about anything. Bubbles nudges me until I pet her head.
When Dad does return, I pretend to be asleep, and Bubbles does too. I can hear him move stuff on my desk. Then he kisses the top of my head.
“Love you,” he whispers.
When he leaves, he shuts the door. My room is dark. The only light comes from the small power light of my laptop. Dad’s given it back.
I’m so confused right now.
Mack’s parents don’t believe Dr. Cologne either. They refuse to cancel their spring break trip to Aruba, and an island is the worst place to be. If the asteroid is early and it hits in the Atlantic, they have no chance of survival.
“You shouldn’t be leaving,” I say to Mack.
“I know, Elle. I don’t want to.”
We sit in the Jeffersons’ living room. Mrs. Jefferson walks through every few minutes, spying. She’s not happy with Londyn and me because s
he thinks we’ve got Mack believing the world is about to end. (She’s already had a long discussion with my dad about the whole thing.) And I’m not happy because, in my gut, I know Mack doesn’t believe—not even 99 percent like he claimed two months ago. He’s only playing along. I thought that might be enough to get him through, but now I’m worried.
“Are you even a little prepared?” Londyn asks. She’s probably angrier than me.
“I’ve got a water filter and a dual-band radio,” he says. “And a cool bracelet.” He touches the gray paracord on his wrist.
“That’s only because Grandpa Joe bought you that stuff,” I remind him.
“I read the website this morning. The date is definitely April seventh. I’m back on the fourth. We’ll survive impact together. I promise.” He smiles, like always.
Ten minutes later, Mrs. Jefferson tells us she needs to take Londyn and me home. They have a plane to catch. Mack walks us to the door. I grab his hand before I leave.
“Be safe,” I whisper.
“Bring me home a seashell or something,” Londyn adds.
I turn to walk out, and for some reason, I notice a pile of mail on the table next to the door. On top is a large opened envelope from the Conrad School. If Mrs. Jefferson wasn’t right behind me, I’d grab it and read it. But that’s not really necessary. I’m 100 percent certain of what’s inside.
* * *
• • •
Three things I would do over a normal spring break: sleep in, binge-watch Netflix, and eat raw cookie dough as I wait for the first batch to bake. This is not a normal spring break. Now I wake early and log on to Dr. Cologne’s website first thing and monitor the situation all day. Dad and I don’t talk about my recently returned computer (which no longer has parental controls) or the website. We both pretend like I’m not on it all the time. He does ask me “How are you feeling?” about a thousand times a day.
Since Dr. Cologne was on the news, the site crashes a lot. A little robot pops up on the screen with a sign that reads: We’re temporarily unavailable. Sorry for the inconvenience. The problem is caused by too many visitors, and it’s hard to tell if they’re friends or enemies. Dr. Cologne has now turned off all the comment options. Only he’s allowed to post anything—as it should be.
The World Ends in April Page 18