“Fuck me man.” I kicked an empty, already dented miniature can of Pepsi.
“You know when we shrunk this damn city to save it I thought that it would happen by magic so one second it’s big and the next it’s small. I didn’t realize we were going to have to watch it shrink street by street, structure by structure.” I stepped around a very small pile of red tiles that matched the ones on the roof of the teeny house next to me. The house was sagging to the right, the wooden boards that covered the outside of it buckling from the transition. They looked like damn Lincoln Logs. A bunch of crushed Planks for a small boy who is afraid to leave his stoop.
Gerald nodded. “At least we evacuated the city first.” He was moving aside a bunch of very small, overturned trash cans with his boot. Who knew refuse could be that cute. Were we going to have to sort the trash from the recycling with tweezers? I wondered.
“Well we got all the people out.” I corrected him as I pointed. A Doberman in the yard of a house up the street had begun barking at us. “Yip! Yip! Yip!” I giggled. This was so dumb it sounded like a hamster.
Gerald scowled at me, “The Transition is no joke.”
I gestured to a tiny billboard 5 blocks over that read “BIG SAVINGS at TONY’S ELECTRONIC WAREHOUSE.” “Big Savings at Tony’s Tiny Electronic Warehouse is very funny,” I said “imagine how small those computers are right now. Oh my god and the keys on the keyboard! You would need a toothpick to send an email!”
Gerald continued up the street clearing the way with his foot. And by that I mean we were roughly standing in the same place because to move would be to crush something so he swung his boot in a wider and wider arc for us to pass.
“Finding the Black Box is going to be a needle in a city stack.” I said after a long pause where he didn’t laugh at my very funny joke. He didn’t laugh at this one either.
I leaned over and tried to take the top off of a house like it was for dolls. The house ripped out of the ground and the furniture clattered everywhere. “Do I just shake it and see if the box falls out??” I asked holding the domicile up to him.
“Please put that back.” His voice was stern. I sighed.
“Fine I’ll be more gentle with our baby town.”
Had shrinking the town so that everything was miniature and falling over been the right call? Probably not. But it was the only technology we had access to on short notice and when the dam was threatening to break we didn’t have time to think of a better plan. It was have everything underwater or everything be tiny. And we chose tiny.
Now, though, Gerald and I had to find the Black Box schematics for the damn dam in a crumpling Lego metropolis. How the fuck were we going to do that?
“The world will burn,” she said, staring lazily out the window. Gladys talked as if the apocalypse was boring to her. Which I guess in some sense it was. You live through enough of them and they start to feel routine. I, on the other hand, was still awed by the majesty of it all. My people inhabited the last age so I was still very new to this “the experiment didn’t work try again” concept.
Gladys tucked her head down onto the green velvet couch. “How sad to think this all will go,” she murmured, petting the cushion. Her office was tidy but full. Bookshelves stretched floor to ceiling along the north wall full of works I recognized and many I didn’t; published in a range of ways: scrolls browned with age, bound tomes that were the literature of my era, little cubes that I had seen her touch to bring up lights that turned into words. Every age she went and collected all that she could find from the previous ones. It was a futile task, shrinking information every epoch that she tried. Enough to fill a bookshelf but the only remaining legacy from a whole world? Just for it to disappear at the end?
I was sitting on a jaunty wooden chair. One of Gladys’ life philosophies was “never get too comfortable.” And I can assure you I wasn’t. When I came under her tutelage I was apprenticed to a baker, a man in my village who woke up at 5 am every day to knead, and sweat, and feed people. I was used to dedicating my life to hard work. But I had no understanding of just how hard it would get. Once Gladys officially took me on and I started taking the medication, I realized how much of life passes you by while you’re stuck in your devotion to something.
A knock sounded at the door, “Chancellor, they’re ready for you,” Garbo announced from the other side. Gladys sighed and began to stand up. I helped her off the couch and tucked her arm in mine as we crossed the room. She patted my hand, “No crying this time perhaps,” she said. “I make no promises,” I answered.
We opened the door and exited to the exterior hallway. Grass waved from off the path. Gladys liked to be outside as much as possible given how much time we had to shelter after the apocalypse happens. We slowly moved from her rooms down the heathered hill and into the valley. The beacons were already lit as we descended. The advisors were already sitting hidden in the grass, their antlers visible in the fading sunlight. I guess you live through enough apocalypses and you get to show up right when everything starts. Garbo took Gladys’ arm from me and helped her into her cape.
I walked my way around the circle to the smooth round stone set for me. Gladys stood in the center and reached her hands to the sky.
“Oh Ancient Ones,” she began, “We beseech you, help us in our time of need.” The thunder started rolling, and the sky began to split. As a bolt of lightning shot down, Garbo leaned over from his smooth stone to me with tears rolling down my cheeks and said, “let the games begin.”
The room was bare, almost hospital like. I half expected a rack of old magazines to be sitting in the corner. When I turned though, it wasn’t. I don’t think the Consulate would allow something like that anyways. They were too obsessed with being pristine. So instead of reading I just sat and counted. I had gotten up to 230 when the door opened. Mame, my handler, came in with her usual non-expression. I had only ever seen her in a blue pantsuit and today was no different.
“How are you?” She asked, “do you need anything? Food? Water?"
“Water actually would be great,” I said.
Mame pushed a button on her watch and asked for some water.
There was not another chair in the room so she just stood.
“The decision still isn’t made yet,” she said while we waited for my water. “But I wanted to come check in because I know this period can be tedious."
Tedious is not really the word I would use to describe what was happening. Upsetting? Yes. Frustrating? Yes. Boring? Only in the fact that I wasn’t allowed to have a book with me. On a grand level the future of my life being decided by a room of people I do not know, I would not call that boring, no.
I smiled wanly at her. “I am alright, thank you.” I crossed and uncrossed my legs.
My grandmother had been right, truly the only way to get through any difficult situation but especially this one was to indicate that I am the rightful heir with the utmost decorum and hospitality I can display.
“How are you doing?” I asked. “This must be a long work day.” She had put me in this room sometime in the afternoon. There were no windows but I could tell by my tiredness that we had moved into the deep night.
Mame did not respond to my question. She just looked expectantly at the door a second before it opened. Did her watch indicate someone was coming? Does she have special hearing powers to listen for their footsteps?
It’s never been confirmed but ever since the Consulate showed up and then took over there have been rumors about their abilities.
The person who brought my water was dressed in the same royal blue that Mame was except they were in the tunic that all the helpers seemed to wear. Plus they had the customary lack-of-face.
I resisted a shudder. I’m sure when my grandma was talking about decorum she did not image I would be faced with this.
"Tell me!" My heart hurt like someone was trying to reach into my chest and pull it out. My breathing raced and I felt my face twist into something horrible.
He looked distraught. "I I I I don't know. I mean I do know. I did it because it was what felt safest." I shook my head, "Tell me why you did this over ALL of the other things you could have done. ALL of the other courses of action." I gestured wildly, nearly hitting a stack of books off of his desk.
His eyes widened, "I needed to protect myself, I don't know why you don't see that. Living a double life allowed me freedom to dismantle what the Raiders have wrought." "What they have WROUGHT?" I was shrieking now. "YOU did this YOU brought them here." I pointed viscously at him. "Tell me WHY you think that abandoning your place on the throne to galavant around this fucking city is at ALL taking responsibility for your actions."
He shrugged, "You can't deny I've been helping." My mouth dropped open, "Whaaaa" stunned into a whisper by the casualness with which he talked about his lie. "I'm not even from this fucking country," I put my face in my hands and sat on the floor. There was a long pause. "Tell me why you decided to involve me," I said wearily. I looked up with tears in my eyes. The truth always makes you cry. He did all of this knowing who he was. Knowing exactly what he did to put us in this mess. His country, his friends, and me.
He looked at me pleadingly. "Nothing about us has to change. Nothing about the way I feel about you is a lie—" "Oh I'm sorry but everything else is." I cut in. "Your love for me isn't a lie but WHO YOU ARE is a lie, what you have done is a lie! How you even know how to contact Lieutenant Grave that's a fucking lie too!" Oop I had started yelling again. Tell me tell me tell me tell me rang in my head. He couldn't.
I stopped short. He couldn't tell me because he still didn't think he had done anything wrong. Arguing with someone who is able to acknowledge wrongdoing is one thing. Arguing with someone whose core identity is attached to them being right and good is a losing battle — they cannot accept anything else. They would rather live in a different reality than accept the harm they have caused.
And that was it. That was the truth that was cutting my heart. I shook my head. "Come tell me when you're ready to be accountable for what you've done. Not to me but to your people."
When you first let grief out you have to let it have full reign And it /will/ try all the doors Look in all the nooks and crannies Unearth everything It takes a long long time but it will eventually settle down It’ll find a room it likes where the sun shines in in the afternoon And there’s a small ficus by the window It’ll nap there Sometimes it’ll get up stretch and move around But for it to find the perfect room you have to let it out And let it explore No matter how painful it is Because once it’s stopped trying doors you know generally what room it’s in And you can continue cleaning the house or what have you more easily It’ll become a part of you, just a part not the whole thing And you’ll be free to try your own doors as you please
We trudged through the forest. I had been camping before but it had never been like this.
Well ok first of all I guess we were backpacking.
But beyond that I was gross. We hadn’t come across a bathing body of water in a number of days. The river we refilled our skins at Gawain deemed too fast moving to be safe.
My rough cut hair was greasy and I had dirt under my fingernails. The air was neither hot nor cold it just was. I walked in my tunic and boots, my leggings tucked into my pack.
“Trees, trees, and more trees” Alex said. I nodded.
Shea, hearing talking, bounded back to us. I scratched her behind the ears.
Alex found a stick on the ground “ok go!” He yelled as he threw it.
Shea raced off. Gawain looked back at us, perturbed.
“What! Do you never play with your dog??” Alex asked.
Gawain shook his head. “Dogs are dedicated workers. They don’t need to play.”
I grimaced. “Yikes.” I said.
Alex laughed at my uncomfortable face.
“Dogs are dedicated workers.” Alex said, mimicking Gawain’s deep tone.
I laughed but tried to hide it when I saw Gawain’s shoulders tense.
“Aww bud,” I said, “we’re only playing.” “Oh wait,” I added, “do HUMANS not do that also??”
Gawain’s mouth twitched and I felt proud. That mfer never smiled so this was very close to a win.
Alex threw the stick for Shea as we continued. I kicked the small pebbles on the path, scattering them along the dusty trail. Very quickly past where the sandy parts ended, the trees grew thick. We pulled off to sleep at night, hidden in the branches. But moving through it on a consistent basis proved too difficult for the ole dainty twins.
When I cried from a thorn scraping my leg in the brush, Gawain had decided that we could risk walking out in the open.
We saw no one, crossed no paths. Just a straight shot to somewhere.
The trees had leaves still here, the usual colors. Some had more of a bluish tinge than I was used to. I mean truly who knew where we were. Gawain told us it was the harvest season which I guess meant fall?? But if the leaves don’t fall what do they call it ya know.
Some trees had berries and like in our world, red meant bad. But the purple berries with the little seed pods were fun to eat. They exploded in your mouth like a Gusher. Without all the stick-on-your-teeth sugary bits.
The water crashed down, loudly colliding with the pool below it. A spray reached my already cold face. “Fuck, we have to go in there?” I asked. I shifted on the horse we had picked up in Bath. I fully turned when Gawain didn’t respond and he just gave me a curt nod. Classic.
Alex coughed and spit on the ground. “That’s what I think of that.” He said. My smile fought through on my tense face.
Gawain dismounted, Alex and I followed suit. Gawain whispered to Shea and she bounded off ahead of us. He stroked the nose of his horse. Next he reached into one of his saddle bags and pulled out wool jackets for all of us. They smelled like wet sheep and were coated in a grease of sorts. I made a face.
“These will keep us dry.” Gawain said.
I pulled it slowly over my furs, trying to stuff each arm into the jacket was difficult.
Alex turned to me arms out like a little kid on a snow day. “I can’t put my arms all the way down.” He tried but the jacket was too taught around his shoulders.
I laughed and my stomach hurt. I was looking forward to dinner and the fire we would start once we made camp.
Gawain led his horse towards the waterfall and we followed. The horse balked a bit at going under, but Gawain very quietly and calmly spoke to it and it hesitantly crossed through. I looked at my horse and said, “Hey bud, uhh we gotta do this ok?” My horse looked nonplussed.
The noise of the water began to drown out everything else as I approached. Looking up, the top of the falls was eons away, a speck unleashing this scene on the world. I wrapped my jacket tightly around me and pulled the hood up. At the last second I held my breath.
Stepping under the cascade was like being punched in the back. I stumbled from the impact but maintained my grip on the reins. I could feel the cold from inside my layers of clothing though no water reached my skin. After a second I was through, pulling my reluctant horse behind me. I stepped away from it for a second and shook my body, sending droplets flying.
Alex and his mount showed up quickly after.
We were standing at the beginning of a large tunnel that lead through the mountain. Gawain had already started walking into the dark. He didn’t even pause when he took his Marsh out of his pocket, shook it, and let it float up into the air. It cast a faint pale glow around him. Just enough to see about 10 feet in front and behind.
I started walking and Alex did too. There wasn’t enough room for us to walk side by side plus our horses so we stayed in a line.
The paws sounded in the corridor as Shea returned to Gawain. He nodded at her. No threats ahead it seemed.
We traveled in silence for awhile except for the drip of our jackets on the floor.
I keep mistiming picking up my mail.
I don’t think the mail gremlins would actually bite my fingers off but when they gnash their teeth it worries me.
They generally refill the mail around 3 pm each day, opening up the back door to the mailboxes for my apartment complex and shoving people’s mail in. And if you are unlucky enough, like I am, you are opening your mailbox from the other side and reaching your hand in to get your mail out.
Silas told me that there’s a magical ward that prevents them from actually coming through but my paranoia tells me differently.
I don’t know how big the gremlins are, it’s hard to tell from peering in the little metal square. They’re red though and have a halo of fur, not unlike a lion. The rest of them, at least until their bellies, seems to be scaly like lizards.
It’s hard to get a good look at where they are, The Mail Room as I’ve heard it called. Their hands and on bad days their angry faces really take up the full window.
For awhile I tried to see if I got the same one delivering my mail every time. I would leave treats to entice them but the treats would always be there when I opened the mailbox again. I hope that means they’re being fed well.
I started to doubt that though when my mail began showing up with some of the corners chewed off. I get a lot of junk mail so it was mostly ripped coupons for products I don’t buy and the edges of clothing catalogues.
Well, that is until my stimulus check was a quarter missing. I needed that money. It was the least the government could do after this trash ass pandemic.
I had picked up my mail at 4 pm that day so after the other side door had closed.
Silas winced when I showed him. “What is going on over there??” He asked.
“Dude I don’t know. I thought it was funny when it was like bits of paper missing but this is not good!” I shook my head. “How do I even contact them to ask about it?"
Silas shrugged. Neither of us had ever had to contact The Mail Room before. And it’s not like the gremlins were communicative.
“Ughhhhh” I said.
I slept on it and decided the next morning to get my mail at the overlap time.
2:55 pm my mailbox door was open and I waited. Silas popped by at 2:58 pm to get his mail from yesterday and see what was going to happen.
3:00 pm right on time the other side opened and a red scaly hand pushed a bunch of envelopes into my mailbox.
“Hey!” I shouted.
I heard a confused grunt. A big red slightly fluffy face came into view.
“Where do I report chewed mail?” I asked.
The face narrowed its eyes.
“Please?” I offered.
The face disappeared and the arm came back. It slid all the way through the mailbox and out onto our side.
I looked at Silas. “So much for those magical wards,” I said. His mouth was hanging open.
The arm flailed around until it grabbed onto my arm and started pulling.
“Uhhhh” I said. Silas started to pull me back.
“No, no” I waved him off, “let’s just see where this goes. I have my phone and my communicator!”
“Once you do this, you can never go back. You understand?” He said.
I nodded. I was crossing a boundary that was set to keep us safe. But for the sake of adventure and my $1200 stimulus check I had to go.
I stopped resisting and I let the gremlin pull me through the mailbox and out the other side.
The cart trundled down the path. As they got closer to the town, the forest gave way to fields where corn grew tall and swayed in the wind. Unfortunately, the closer they got to the town, the more the smell grew too.
The driver crinkled his nose as the stench rushed over the cart. The horse coughed but she also had allergies so who knows if it was the corn or the smell.
Horse and cart and driver were on their way to the monthly market, cart piled high with belts of all different types. The driver was dressed in the customary green tunic of clothing merchants.
Bath was the driver’s least favorite stop each month. Only because you had to get there early to get a good market spot which meant overlapping with the end of the Bathing period. And that, was stinky.
