“Well, mother, I have your house on Underhill Construction’s calendar for renovation work, but it’s going to be a long wait, with all the cleanup and reconstruction that crew’s going to be looking at following the storms and the earthquake. They promised to get to your address as quickly as they were able, but you’re going to have to stay out of the basement in the meanwhile. You’re going to have to find a new place to get your laundry done. Just can’t run anything electrical down there as long as there’s so much water. Maybe Lacy will help you out.”
Mrs. Queen replied once more with only her steady hum as she swayed in her cherished rocking chair. The television glowed in front of her, painting another live camera feed of presidents from the West and ministers from the East gathering to sign another disarmament treaty, all of them frightened after learning how easily the world could escalate to destruction. Beyond her window, Mrs. Queen’s neighbors worked to replace the windows busted by hail and to pick up the pieces the furious winds had ripped from their homes. Even Lacy Hollenkamp, with her shoulder still held in a white sling, did her best to gather the sticks and twigs strewn about her lawn.
Maven moved to the rocking chair and placed his hand on his mother’s shoulder. “Well, the worst of it’s passed. Funny how it all stopped so abruptly. I almost think you chased it all away.”
Mrs. Queen was oblivious to her surroundings as she hummed and swayed, and that frail melody didn’t stop for any of her son’s words. She had been humming since the storm and the earthquake had nearly toppled her home upon her. She had been humming when the ground suddenly calmed, when the clouds dissipated in minutes, when the voice on the emergency radio announced the peace accord that pulled the world back from the brink. Like her neighbors who hustled to clear debris from the streets, Mrs. Queen played a part in restoring the community’s tranquility.
Mrs. Queen hummed, and her resonance maintained the world’s proper shape. Mrs. Queen hummed, and her vibration for a while longer held the terror at bay.
“So remember, mother,” Maven smiled, “stay away from the basement until the Underhills have the chance to repair everything. And don’t you worry about your diet. I’ve got your cabinets filled with oatmeal and peanut butter. I should’ve listened to you all along. You were right about the pills. They really did make you an entirely different person.”