The World Ends in April

by Stacy McAnulty

  “Eleanor, are you okay?” Dad asks as I stare at my untouched chicken.

  I shrug.

  “What’s wrong with Eleanor?” Phillip looks at me and then at Dad.

  “Is she sick?” Edward asks.

  “She’s not sick,” Dad says.

  “We need to go to Grandpa Joe’s!” I suddenly blurt out, though the thought isn’t sudden.

  “No,” Dad says.

  Edward’s eyes grow huge. “Can we? Please?”

  Dad stares at me. “No. We are not going anywhere.”

  “It’s the safest place for us.”

  Dad lets out a long breath and then gets up from the table. I think for a moment he might agree. As he walks into the hallway, he pulls out his phone.

  “What’s going on?” Phillip asks.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You said we’d be safe.” He looks up at me with wide eyes.

  “We are safe. Now be quiet.”

  I strain to hear what Dad is saying. He’s yelling, but the words are muffled. I can make out very little except a swear word and the name Joe.”

  “Dad’s very mad,” Phillip says.

  “Thanks for that observation.”

  The yelling stops and Dad walks back into the kitchen. He holds out his cell phone for me.

  “It’s your grandfather,” he says. “He needs to talk to you.”

  I take the phone and stand up. I want to talk away from the table, but Dad puts a hand on my shoulder and I sink back into my chair.

  “Hello?”

  “Eleanor, the asteroid is not coming.”

  I don’t reply.

  “Do you hear me? There’s no asteroid.” It sounds like he’s talking through gritted teeth.

  “He’s making you say this stuff.” I glare up at Dad. My throat is dry and aches.

  “It’s the truth, Eleanor,” Grandpa Joe says. “There’s no asteroid heading to Earth.”

  “Why are you doing this?” I yell into the phone. I don’t want to fight my family. I just want to keep everyone safe. Why can’t he understand?

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I should have said this a long time ago.” He sniffs.

  “Stop! You know it’s real.”

  “It’s not.”

  “It is!” I scream.

  “I have to go,” he whispers. “Be good. Give your brothers a hug for me.”

  “No. Come tell me to my face!” My yelling is met by silence.

  I grab my napkin and wipe my nose. I take deep breaths and force myself not to drop any tears. Dad gently takes his phone and rubs my back with his other hand.

  “Why don’t you get ready for bed,” he says. “It’s been a long day.”

  “We’ll sleep in the basement.” I manage to say this without crying or begging. It’s an order. I’m in charge.

  “I want to sleep in the basement,” Edward says.

  “It’s the safest place in the house. I’ve been getting it ready,” I say.

  “Eleanor, I don’t—”

  “Please, Dad. Please. I can’t stay in my room.” My brief moment of self-control is over. My eyes, my nose, and my heart betray me. I sob. “Please. Please.”

  “Oh, Eleanor.” Dad wipes his own eyes. “You can sleep in the basement if you want. If it’ll make you feel better. But you are just as safe in your room. There is no danger. I promise.”

  “Can I?” Edward asks.

  “We all are,” I answer for Dad. “We have to stay together.”

  Dad takes a breath. I don’t care if he believes me. In less than twenty-four hours, he’ll know the truth. For now, I need to keep my family safe. It’s up to me.

  “Awesome,” Edward says.

  Phillip isn’t as excited. He grabs my hand and says, “Thank you.”

  While Dad cleans up dinner, I move my computer, phone, dual-band radio, and sleeping bag into the basement. Phillip and Edward bring down their sleeping bags, stuffed animals, books, and games like it’s a sleepover. I pull out the supplies Grandpa Joe has helped me collect.

  “Wow!” Edward says, impressed by my assortment of meals, tools, and other equipment. I give them both bedrolls so they don’t have to sleep on the floor.

  I set up my computer and the radio on an old coffee table. Dr. Cologne tracks the asteroid like NORAD tracks Santa Claus’s movement on Christmas Eve. He’s certain it will be tomorrow. I’m certain too.

  I send more texts to Mack.

  ME: check out the site

  ME: be alert

  ME: be safe

  It’s like launching them into a void. I call again, knowing he won’t answer, and leave a voice mail, hoping he might listen.

  “Hey, I know you don’t think the asteroid is real. I’m not sure when you stopped believing or why. That’s not important now. I get that you don’t trust Dr. Cologne because you don’t know him. But you know me, and I need you to trust me, Mack. Every part of me knows that this is real—my heart, my brain, every cell in my body. Please. You’re in danger. If something happened to you, I couldn’t handle it.” I pause. This shouldn’t be a message; it should be a conversation. “Call me. Okay? Please.” I disconnect and wonder if I’ll ever hear from him again.

  Bubbles joins us. She sniffs each of our sleeping bags, searching for the right spot.

  At bedtime, Dad reads Phillip and Edward a chapter from Harry Potter and then tells us good night.

  “Where are you going?” I ask as he turns to go upstairs.

  “I’m going to watch a little TV. I’ll be down later.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes.”

  It’s dark except for a small night-light. Dad tells me no phone or computer because the boys won’t fall asleep. So they get to rest, and I don’t.

  My brain will not shut down. I didn’t do enough. I couldn’t make Mrs. Walsh believe me. Or Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson. I couldn’t even make Mack believe me. And I don’t know if Grandpa Joe believes or not. If something happens to any of them, it’s my fault. My chest aches. I feel like I’ve been running the mile in gym class and actually trying, hard.

  I stare at the wall. I stare at the ceiling. I put a pillow over my head. Nothing works. I’m still awake when Dad comes down. He gives us each a kiss and then lies on the old couch in his work clothes.

  “Try to sleep,” he whispers. “Staying awake and worrying won’t help anything.”

  Next thing I know, I wake to a BOOM!

  “Oh my God!” I scream. A dull light comes through the open door at the top of the stairs. The boys are still asleep. Bubbles shakes beneath the end table.

  And Dad is gone.

  I spring out of my sleeping bag and run to the bottom of the stairs. I don’t know if I should search for Dad or stay with Phillip and Edward. If they don’t have Dad or me, what will happen to them?

  A flash of light brightens the small basement windows on the other side of the room. It’s darker than daytime but not night.

  “Dad,” I call out.

  No answer.

  I scramble up the stairs, closing the door behind me. Dad isn’t in the family room or kitchen. Rain pounds the sides of the house. The tree in the front yard is bending over from the wind.

  “Dad!” I scream. “Dad!”

  He runs out of his bedroom in a towel, with a half-shaven face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s happening!”

  “Eleanor, it’s a thunderstorm. It’s just bad weather.”

  “No!” I shake my head again and again.

  “Relax, honey.”

  “Please, come downstairs, come back.” I take a breath. “Come back.” It feels like I’m choking. “Come back. Come…come back. Come back.” I gulp air and repeat myself over and over.

&
nbsp; “Okay. Okay. Hold on.”

  He disappears. I’m crying. Choking. Shaking.

  There’s another clap of thunder.

  Dad is back, dressed. He wraps his arm around me.

  “Let’s go downstairs.”

  My throat is raw.

  Dad follows me back into the safety of the basement. He checks on the boys, who are still asleep, while I lure a terrified Bubbles from beneath the table. She hates storms, but this is definitely something more. Animals can sense things. I hug her close as I open my laptop.

  The Wi-Fi is weak. The website takes time to load. When it finally refreshes, a giant clock fills the screen. It’s a countdown.

  “Oh God.”

  2:08:41

  2:08:40

  2:08:39

  I click every link on the website, looking for information on the location of impact as precious seconds tick away.

  “Come on! Come on!” I yell at the computer. “Tell me.”

  “What are you doing?” Dad asks.

  “The website doesn’t say where! How can he not know where?”

  “Because it’s not real, Eleanor.” He gives me his pity look, but I don’t have time to feel ashamed about it.

  “What’s happening?” Phillip sits up in his sleeping bag.

  “Nothing,” Dad says quickly.

  “Is the world ending?” Phillip asks.

  “No,” Dad answers again, and he squats down next to him for extra reassurance.

  I grab my cell phone and text Mack, because this is the end, whether people choose to believe it or not.

  ME: Come over

  ME: Come over now!

  ME: The asteroid hits in less than two hours

  The dual-band radio sits on the table, charged and ready. I call Londyn, hoping her aunt hasn’t taken it away.

  “Londyn?” I try the channel we used months ago. “Londyn? Come in. Londyn? Please.” I flick the knob, going channel to channel, searching for my friend.

  “Answer me!” I yell. Bubbles runs away and hides under the table again.

  “El-ea-nor,” Dad says, drawing out my name. “I need you to calm down.”

  Edward is awake now too. My brothers crawl out of their sleeping bags, staring at me with wide eyes. I turn off the radio.

  “I gotta go to the bathroom,” Edward whispers.

  “It’s not safe.” I stand and block the stairs.

  Dad steps in front of me. He places his hands lightly on my shoulders but doesn’t force me to move.

  “I’m taking the boys up. We won’t leave the house. We can be back down here in five seconds.”

  “You promise not to leave?” I glance at my computer.

  1:55:10

  “We won’t go anywhere.”

  “No school?” Edward asks, bouncing up and down.

  “We’re staying home.” Dad’s eyes are locked on mine, and I believe him.

  “But I have a math test,” Phillip says.

  “It’ll be all right, buddy.” Dad rubs his half-shaved face.

  I abandon my spot protecting the exit. Edward runs by me. Phillip follows more slowly.

  Dad pauses. “Come upstairs, please. We can turn on the twenty-four-hour news channel. Bring the computer.” He lets out a breath. “We’ll monitor the countdown. We can be—”

  The doorbell interrupts him, and my heart jumps in my chest. Mack! That’s my first thought as I fly up the stairs. My whole body vibrates with each step.

  Phillip yanks open the front door as I come down the hall. But it’s not Mack on the porch. Londyn stands there, soaked and pale.

  Suddenly, I’m not alone. I crush her in a hug. She squeezes me back, and my T-shirt gets damp. Her hair, her jacket, and her bag are drenched. I suck in deep breaths through my nose so I won’t cry. A few tears escape.

  “Does your mom or your aunt know that you’re here?” Dad asks behind me.

  She nods her head once slowly, and we all know she’s lying.

  “I’m calling them,” he says. “They need to know you’re safe.”

  I pull Londyn inside. Before closing the door, I stare into the rain and look for Mack. But I know he’s not coming.

  Londyn follows me to the basement. I point to my PC and the countdown.

  1:52:08

  “Did you see this?”

  “Yeah,” she answers. “Where’s Mack? He should be here.”

  “I know. I’ve sent texts begging him to come over. I warned him not to go to school. No replies.”

  I get Londyn a towel. We sit crisscross on my sleeping bag. Bubbles crawls out from under the table and joins us. She’s not shaking as much as before.

  Londyn sets her wet duffel bag next to us. “I brought us a last meal.” She unzips the bag and pulls out a box of store-bought cake doughnuts, a can of chocolate frosting, and a bag of bacon bits.

  “Someone told me baked goods will be hard to come by.” She forces a weak smile.

  We set out a little picnic on my sleeping bag. We spread frosting on the doughnuts with our fingers and sprinkle them with bacon bits. We give Bubbles her own small helping of bits.

  The minutes tick by. Time moves slowly but also too fast.

  The storm is letting up. It’s still lightly raining, but the thunder and lightning have stopped. Londyn stands and brushes doughnut crumbs from her lap. She walks to the window that faces the backyard.

  “It’s quieter, and the sun’s trying to come out,” she says. “Maybe it’ll be a nice day.”

  1:32:20

  “The weather has nothing to do with the asteroid,” I tell her, and she shrugs. “This waiting is the worst.”

  “I know. I can’t wait for this day to end.” She sits on the bottom step. Bubbles runs over and pushes her way into Londyn’s lap.

  “There’s got to be more online.” I open another browser window and type in a news site. The third story down on the right side of the screen has a picture of Dr. Cologne.

  “Here!”

  Londyn doesn’t move. She just strokes Bubbles’ head. “I’m ready for this to be over. Ready to move on.”

  I start reading. “ ‘Dr. Martin Cologne, the disgraced Harvard astrophysicist’ ”—I pause to swallow—“ ‘is still declaring today to be the end of the line for humanity. For months, he’s prophesized the asteroid named 2010PL7 will strike Earth on the morning of April seventh. But according to NASA, the asteroid is safely thirty million miles away from our planet and poses no threat, not today or in the next century.’ ”

  I shake my head. “This doesn’t make sense.”

  “Maybe it does,” Londyn mumbles.

  “Why are you saying that?”

  I try different news sources—dozens of them. They all make fun of Dr. Cologne. No one’s taking him seriously, even on the final day. I do a Google search on 2010PL7. Most of the hits bring me back to Dr. Cologne’s website, but I also find someone’s social media account from Singapore. He’s posted a picture of the asteroid that he took with his telescope. The potato-shaped mass glows in the dark sky and looks bigger than the moon. The post has ten thousand “likes” and it only went up a half hour ago.

  “This is it! Londyn, come here.”

  She slowly puts Bubbles down and walks over to me. Her shoulders are slumped and her hands are in her pockets.

  “Look!” I hold up my laptop.

  She studies the screen and nods. “Did you read any of the comments?” She places a finger on the touch pad to scroll.

  “No.” I set the computer on the floor.

  “You should. People think it’s Photoshopped.” She sits down next to me on my sleeping bag.

  I don’t read the comments, because I can see the evidence with my own eyes. It’s real. It’s 2010PL7. It’s what we’ve been
waiting for.

  I return to the countdown.

  1:03:30

  We both stare at it, but for the first time, I’m not sure we’re seeing the same thing.

  “I guess we’ll know soon enough.” She plays with the shoelace of her boot. And there’s nothing else to say. We just wait.

  The door at the top of the stairs opens and Dad quietly walks down. Bubbles waits for him at the bottom.

  “Do you need to go outside, Bubbles?” He bends down and scratches her head.

  “I don’t want her to go out,” I say. “I’ll clean up any mess.”

  Dad clenches his jaw. His eyes flash to the computer.

  0:49:10

  “Londyn, your aunt said I need to take you home. You’re grounded and should not have left the house.” Dad speaks softly.

  “No!” I grab her arm. “Dad, you can’t.”

  He doesn’t look at me. “You have five minutes.”

  Londyn nods.

  “No!” I shriek. “You’re not taking her.”

  Dad goes upstairs without saying another word. My eyes fill with fresh tears.

  “No. Don’t go. He’s not going to drag you out of here. Just sit down.” I tug on her jeans, but she steps back.

  “Norie, it’s not happening.” I can’t tell if she’s disappointed or relieved.

  “Just…just a little longer. It’s coming. Less than an hour.”

  “This is really messed up, ya know.” Her voice cracks. “You want the world to end. You’re practically begging for it.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Don’t lie. I know it’s true because I wanted the same thing. This was supposed to fix things. How messed up is that?”

  “No,” I protest weakly.

  “This was going to get my parents back together. And get revenge on all the girls who have been jerks at school. I thought the apocalypse would make things better. And so did you.”

  “Not better. I never said better.”