The Last on Earth

Just Before

Well it seems that the doom and gloomers were right all along. We were told that large chunks of the remains from the explosion of Mars were headed directly towards us and would eventually strike earth. The exodus began with the billionaires paying for flights to the moon, which had been made habitable a years before.  A few such flights crashed, something I did not mind at all. Then a profitable moon shot business began to transfer the general populace in slow moving but quite functional vehicles. This business became quite successful as the Mars-wreck, as people were calling it came closer and closer. There remained little doubt that it was going to strike earth, and hit it hard. Countries grew on the moon, as countries began to dissolve on earth. It could then almost be said that there were no countries remaining on our planet, just small groups of people, and isolated individuals.

Then there was the great crash. There were repeated very loud sounds, as well as huge fires that lit up the sky day and night. Fortunately, my small farm was almost completely surrounded by rivers, so I was not threatened by those fires. 

I had long ago decided not to leave my home planet should rescue ships appear. I am an old man with a farm, and no desire to leave my home. Sure I might become or actually already am now the only man on earth, but I decided to dedicate my life to writing about the times I am now living in. No one else could do it. It would be up to me now to tell the story of the last man on earth. It gave my last days a purpose.

Every Other Day

Every other day I walk to the ruins of the town not far away. At first I did so in hope of encountering other people, but I saw none, so I gave up in that search. My loneliness was growing like the potatoes on my farm.. The purpose of these trips to the former town now is to head straight to two of the former supermarkets, primarily to acquire cans of food that I could pierce with my can opener and, then go home to cook the contents of the cans in my fireplace cookery. Sometimes I would go to the ruins of the library, to find a few books to distract me from the emptiness of my life. The writers in that way became my companions. I would talk to their books like the authors were physically present between the pages.

The Encounter

Then one day it happened. I was rummaging through the cans in the largest market in town, hoping to find cans filled with beans. No one would notice if I farted, which I often did after eating canned beans.

While there I saw something strange. At first it startled me. It was another human being, the first I had seen in many moons (actually four) as my grandfather would have said. It was like looking at someone or something from another planet.

The other human was a boy, maybe between 10 to 12 years old. He was very thin, no doubt from lack of food. When the boy caught a glimpse of me, his first words were “I’m not stealing, mister.” My reply was “Well, neither am I young man. We are both just avoiding starvation, a good thing for us to do. The owner of this place probably died years ago. You cannot trespass when a building has no owner.

           Then I asked the boy, “Do you have any family? “No, I was out in the backyard when a fireball hit our house, killing my parents and my brother and two sisters. I haven’t spoken to anyone since. You are the first.”

           “I can relate. Do you have a place to live in now?”                                                          

 “No sir, I’m outside all of the time, when I’m not in here looking for food.

           “I have a house just outside of the former town. You can stay with me. It feels good to speak with another human being, not just to myself and the most human-like of the potatoes in my potato patch.”

           “Do you cook the potatoes?”

 “Yes, they would be a little rough raw.” 

“How do you do that with no electricity?”

 “I have an outdoor fireplace.”

 “Wow, I haven’t had cooked food in months.”

“What is your name?”

“Darryl” 

“And what is yours? 

“Joe.”

We went to my place, me leading the way, Darryl following behind me. Every once in a while I would turn around to see whether he still existed, and was not a figment of my hopeful   and often deluded imagination. 

It took a few days, but we both began to feel comfort in the presence of another human being. I did not have to talk to the potatoes as often as I had done before. Once I actually apologized to my best potato friend for my recent silence in our interaction.

There Was a Rumbling

Then one day there was a rumbling different from when the great Martian collision struck. Over the days that passed, it got louder and more widespread. It did not seem to be that of another crashing of remnant pieces of Mars, but I was beginning to guess that it was initiated deep in the planet, a long delayed reaction from the crash that took place in months past..

I did not share with Darryl my fears of what may be happening. But as it turned out, I did not have to. A new sound emerged in the sky one morning.  I could not say what day of the week it was.  The sound did not seem natural, more like some kind of engine. Fortunately, I own a pair of binoculars, and it was not long before I saw the source. It was a man-made vehicle of some sort that was cruising slowly in our area. 

Another good fortune was that I had fireworks. I told Darryl about them and about what I had seen. We took them out of the basement, lit each one and I threw them as high as I could so that the occupants of the spaceship could detect our presence. At first there was no reaction, but finally it went into a deep gradual dive, and landed in the potato patch.

We were overjoyed when we saw humans emerge, and they seemed just as happy as we were in seeing unexpected humans. We ran towards them, and there were hugs all around. They had not seen anyone else, neither did the occupants of their sister ships.  Before I entered into the spaceship, I gathered some of my clothes, my writing about being ‘the last man on earth’, and, on my way to the ship, I picked up my favourite potato. I did not want to leave without it. We had been together through my whole experience.

I wondered whether I was the last man on earth, and Darryl the last boy. A year later, we still held that position.