flustered.
“Oh… uhh… right…The pantry’s open and the fridge still works.. just.. make sure there’s enough for two, I haven’t had real food since those hotdogs a week ago.” Call me a slut if you like, but I actually was hoping he was referring to sex. I’m a chick with a dick and half a face living in an apocalypse where the only men around are a married catholic, a man without a spine, and able-bodied Clark. I’m not normally into hispanic guys, of which he is, but hey the last time I got laid I still had toes.
“Yeah no offense, you’re cute and all I just… I don’t do casual encounters.” He said as he stroked my blonde hair lightly in a comforting manner. “I’ll go see what I can do to get dinner started.”
“That would be best.” I said, doing my best imitation of a cat as he rubbed my hair.
“Alrighty..” He said and then he left, I decided to read more of my novels. I had finally finished Mattimeo and Redwall and was looking forward to starting Martin The Warrior continuing my Brian Jacques kick. I had heard they made cartoon adaptations of the first two books, but I didn’t have a working DVD player or know where to get my hands on a DVD copy of Matthias’ quest for the sword of Martin to defeat Cluny The Scourge. Sometimes I read stories on the internet when I could get signal, mostly Metamor Keep, FreeRIDErs, Paradise, good mixture of drama and wish fulfilment in those tales. I had gotten a good two chapters into Martin The Warrior and already finding myself despising the tyrant queen, though Brian Jacques wrote these tales for small children you could never tell from how nasty the villains are. Perhaps it’s just because he’s a British author and American stories are always afraid of introducing children to negative concepts. I always did admire that about foreign children’s stories, they really don’t screw around when it comes to things like death and wickedness. Before the apocalypse I had a really hard time staying focused on books, I loved to read but I’d often read books unfinished, I still have a copy of Phil Geusz’s Freedom City Book 2:Manfiest Destiny I’ve only read a quarter of the way through even though I had read all of the first one, despite me disagreeing with Harvey Foote’s political beliefs I found that the story and setting were engaging and the characters likable. Plus there was one thing good about stories that have differing opinions on morality to you, comparing yours to its and seeing which one of you makes their point better such a thing can definitely help in a debate.
As I was in the middle of turning a page a whiff of something caught my attention and made the gurgles in my stomach rumble, I’m not sure, but I think I smelt garlic. I love garlic! I could also smell a few veggies and spices with a side of… Was that chicken? Honest to God chicken? By the nine divines! I had chicken? There must have been one buried in my freezer somewhere. Odd as I thought I had cleaned it out when I helped myself to the last of the ice cream, mint chocolate chip, I was so sad to see it go. Perhaps it was my one half of a nose playing tricks on me, I put my book down by my bed and began to investigate. Heading to my kitchen I saw the smiling face of Clark having prepared a chicken and rice stew with a makeshift casserole from what I had left of fresh vegetables. I mildly cursed him for that, genetically modified seeds from the olden times had made the ground in many places unable to accept anything but genetically modified seeds which of course we no longer had the technology to create nor were they even healthy for us in the first place. I did have a garden in the back with untainted soil, but it’s hard to make things grow in a climate where the sun only shows up when it wants too and that was getting increasingly rare for those moments when it did, and yet even without the sun it was still hotter than Neil Patrick Harris’ perfect smile out there and when it wasn’t it was colder than coldness itself! However, the casserole looked divine so I couldn’t hate Clark too much for using my fresher uncanned veggies. “Bon appetite” he said to me. The two of us obliterated every morsel, I doubt there were even enough crumbs for the rats and roaches.
“God, I hope you didn’t make desert. I haven’t been this full since… I can’t even remember.” I laughed rubbing my stomach. Though it was still scrawny and small from malnutrition I felt as though my belly had swollen to the size of a sumo wrestler’s.
“I was going to make pie, but you didn’t have any fruit.” Admitted Clark, I swear he was licking his fingers.
“I finished the last of the apples yesterday.” I confessed. “So… tell me, what was the broadcast and did Isaac mention what his research turned up?”
“Just that they don’t know if there’s enough gasoline to keep the food trucks running.” Clark said, rubbing the back of his head.
“Don’t they have alternative fuels?” I asked, I thought I remember hearing something about that once a long time ago.
“Yeah, but the engines that run on them are all in Europe.” Clark sighed. “Not here where they were banned, something about them being unfeasible and unreliable…. Another big oil lie. They actually brought this up during the broadcast and are looking into transporting some of the engines from the factories still open in France and Denmark, but, that’s going to take a long time.”
“Well things are going from worse to no seriously why am I still alive? At least there’s a plan… Anything about the cure?” I had to know.
“One thing actually, they said that they’re looking for people to build and send in… and… no I’m not joking about this… Bird Houses.” Clark said, sounding like he didn’t even believe himself.
“What?” I asked completely off-guard, I expected anything from Clark just not that. “Just… what? Humanity is months away from extinction and they want us to build.. bird houses? I… What? I… What?”
“Yeah that’s what I said. If it’s some kind of joke I don’t get it.” Clark said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Well… I guess building birdhouses gives us something to do…” I said, I was thinking maybe Clark misheard or something, I’d have to speak with Isaac directly. “I think Piet knows a few things about woodworking, we’ll have to ask him.”
After dinner I dusted off some old board games, a deck of cards, and we spent the night talking and playing blackjack with a deck of cards I found. I wasn’t the gambling type, but I did have a fondness for the game and found it was fun even when it wasn’t being played for some kind of prize. Clark seemed to agree as he asked me to hit him, a pretty ballsy move given that he was at 17, it was however a move that paid off when he drew a four. “How did you know?”
“Just a hunch.” My friend replied with a shrug.
“Or perhaps it was your Extra Sensory Perception acting up and you jumped on it!” I suggested, I’m not sure why I tried to strike up this conversation as it was just going to go about the same way it usually does.
“Michelle, this is why I didn’t move in sooner… I knew you’d start more conversations like this.” Clark groaned rubbing his eyes. “I don’t believe in magic, ghosts, spirits, demons, deities, monsters, tarot cards, fortune telling, or the afterlife.” He stood up and turned his back to me as if about to walk away, but then turned back. “Be honest with me, I know you have those Death Fantasies. Every once in awhile you bring up how great being dead would be, or how you can’t wait to start living without your body holding you back. You seem to back this up by doing stupid shit that I’m amazed hasn’t gotten yourself killed with you never being able to find out that there’s no afterlife as you go into a dreamless sleep with no way to wake up ever. So be honest. If in your doctrine there wasn’t a word written about this amazing hereafter, or if Jesus Christ, Ghandi, Buddha, Ganesha, The Devil, Santa Claus, Vincent Price, Dracula, Aleister Crowley, Shiva, The Easter Bunny, and Hades all came to you in a group and each promised that there was no reward waiting for you have you’ve closed your eyes for good, we’ve completely eliminated that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow… Would you still believe? Or is that honestly what it would take to bring you into the real world?”
I thought long and hard about this, we all have our oddities and our moments of insanity. Every single one
of us has a habit that wasn’t get for us like smoking, drinking, hard drugs, staying up too late, wasting your necessities on trinkets and games, unprotected sex with various partners, gambling, whatever. Mine were my fantasies of the afterlife, the thought of closing my eyes in this world and opening a new set of eyes in another with a heavenly voice crying out. “Come Michelle, your torment has ended. We have given you the female body you felt you were meant to on Earth, there is as much food to eat and as much fresh water as you wish. You never have to leave, all the friends you’ve lost will be found again and all the friends who’ve lost you will find you again. Relax, you’ll never know pain again. You’ve earned this my child.”, yes I’ve spent too long thinking about what I’d be told. Too long thinking about how tingly I’d feel with not only my arm healed and my legs restored, but being all woman from top to bottom. Such adequacy, such marvel I didn’t know even back when the world was fine. I had thought too long about being reunited with my family and non-surviving friends, too long