You Can Talk!

In these trying times, I’m sure we’ve all heard those people who think the world is coming to an end. After all, people are hoarding goods and making worst-case-scenario plans. However, we all know everything is going to be alright. These people are just overreacting. Aren’t they? 

    The country’s government and its people were in turmoil with each other. Fights breaking out in the street was a common occurrence. Non-perishables and water were becoming hard to find. But, this madness would never reach my little town. This is what I truly thought. Living in a small town in Niobrara County, nothing ever changes. 

    I rarely watch the news these days. There’s no reason because it never affects me. Or so I thought. It was just my average morning that day. I woke up at precisely 6 AM. I took care of the livestock, showered, dressed, and headed off to work. I owned and operated a small gas station no more than a mile away from my cabin. My life was simple, yet satisfying. I lived alone with my cat Tom, two horses Cesar and Agustus, two goats Pete and Gloria, and their baby Peoria.

As I neared the station I could see smoke billowing into the sky directly above it. My heart stopped and I hastened my pace hoping I wasn’t too late. Alas, I was. The flames engulfed what was left of my beloved occupation. I walked into the small lot now scattered with ruins. Holding back tears, I took in the sight. Graffiti splattered the walls where there used to be clean red brick. Burnt matches were scattered about the craters where the gas pumps used to stand. Who would do such a thing! I never imagined this would happen to me. Yet, it has. I fumbled in my pocket and pulled out my phone. With shaky hands, I dialed the numbers 9-1-1. 

*Phone ringing*

“911, What’s your emergency?” the woman on the other side of the line said. 

“M-my business, it’s been destroyed. Thugs, they vandalized it and then-” I shuttered. “ They burnt it to the ground.” 

“ What’s the address ma’am?” She asked.

“445 Sheffer Road Hellertown, Wyoming,” I blurted

“We’ll have someone headed your way within a few minutes.” The woman hung up. 

What to do now? I walked around to the back of the building. Foul words and slurring insults covered the walls that I helped build with my own hands. I have always been so proud of this place. The colorful paint singed from the fire struck a pang of sorrow inside of me that depleted the fire in my heart. I waited in the cold for a few minutes. Those minutes turned into hours. The sun was low in the sky when I realized, no help was coming. Justice would not be mine. It was a long walk home that day with my face streaked with tears and soot. 

    Eek. I pushed open the heavy door of my cottage. The warmth and the familiar brush of Tom the cat against my legs welcomed me. I plopped down in front of my television set. For the first time in ages, I turned on the news. For a moment the channel flickered in and out. A shaky voice began to cry out through the speakers. 

“I’m here in New York. The empire state building has just fallen. The casualties are many. Cities all over the USA are seeing similar attacks. We urge you to find a safe place and stay put. Electrical lines are down throughout the country. We’re all in this togeth-” 

I turned off the television. How could this be happening? I grabbed my cell phone. My heart pounded as I dial my brother’s number. He moved to New York no more than a month ago. *ring* *ring* *ring* No answer. I sank down into the sofa consumed with fear and worry. I called again. No answer. Again, I called. No answer. I can only hope he’s okay. As I tried to calm myself I realized that I was no longer excluded from the hardship of the outer world. Soon the electricity would be off, no more heat, no more water. I jumped up from my place on the couch and started gathering containers. I ran water into them as fast as I could. I slipped on my heavy coat and a pair of gloves and went to gather twigs and brush for a fire. 

*********

    A week has passed. I have split wood, saved water, and stored food away in every waking moment. Finally, this morning, my modern life came to a halt. The switches, the outlets, the knobs, they’re all useless. With no electricity and no running water, I’m afraid of what might become of me. Growing up in the 21st century I know nothing of life without these necessities, only what I’ve read in books. To make matters worse, it has snowed all week. The cold, wet mounds of snow barricade the doorway and cling to the roof. Today starts a new life for me, a hard life. My nearest neighbor is four miles north of me. I wonder how they are making it. Their name is Schmit. They are a friendly sort of people. A mother, a father, and three lovely children they are.

    I push my way out the front door where I’m greeted by heavy mountains of snow. My legs ache with cold as I work my way from the cabin to the barn. Pete meets me at the door bleating furiously. “Yes Pete, we all know you’re hungry,” I assure him as I distribute rations of grain to the animals. 

**********

    It has been a month and a half now. All supplies are short. I am now forced to melt snow for water. Most of the time I must hunt, scavenge, and forage for my food. This is harder than I could have ever imagined. I haven’t seen another person for weeks and weeks. My mind is starting to suffer from this lack of contact. I find myself talking to objects as if they can understand me. Tom is becoming more of a human than a pet in my mind these days. He sits at the table with me, gets a ration of my food, and sleeps in my bed under the covers. He has been a great comfort to me. 

    I walk through the kitchen inspecting my stash. On the shelf, I see 10 cans of green beans, two cans of soup, some corn syrup, and maybe a pound of beans. “Starting to run a little short aren’t we?” I say. “Well, we’re going to die sooner or later anyway. Nothing to fret about.” I look up at the dust-covered toaster. “See, you and I are a lot alike these days. Neither of us is much good for anything. At least you don’t have to eat.” I turn my head and begin to pace around the kitchen pointing out object after object. “All of you guys are just lucky. You don't have to eat, or drink, or take care of anything. Your only purpose is to sit there and exist! You see what I mean?” My heart pounds and my mind begins to play some serious tricks on me. 

    “Oh don’t be so hard on yourself.” says the toaster.  

    “Yeah, you can’t help what you are.” says a spatula where it lays on the counter. 

    “I knew you could talk!” A crooked smile stretches across my face. My mind begins to draw faces on the objects around my kitchen. Plastic eyes roam their surroundings. Arms and legs sprout from the handles of various utensils. “This is amazing!” I shout. 

    “We're all in this together.” says the toaster. 

    “We get hungry too!” yells the ladle and the serving spoon who dance on the counter. 

    “And cold, just like you.” says the flour jar. 

    “Feed us!” Shrieks the can opener. 

    “Feed us! Feed us! Feed us!” They all yell in unison. 

    “Okay! I will.” I walked over to the shelf and grabbed the remaining cans. The utensils squealed and shrieked with excitement. I took the can opener in hand and began to open cans one by one. The appliances cheered as I tossed green beans and soup all over the counters and into the oven and into the cabinets. I showered the toaster and the ladle and the can opener and the serving spoon with dried beans. I watched as they gobbled up every bite. “Are you happy now?” I asked. 

    “No, we’re still cold!” Says the flour jar. 

    “Yeah, Light a fire, will ya.” the lighter ads. 

    “Yeah, right here in the kitchen. That would be nice and warm.” agrees the flour pot.

    “Yeah! Light a fire!” yells the toaster. 

    The lighter dances on the countertop swaying and calling out to me. “Light a fire. Light a fire!” 

    I get up from my spot and hesitantly reach out for the lighter. He falls into my hand, and the appliances cheer. Without thinking I toss paper towel rolls, and newspapers, and wooden decorations all underneath the kitchen table. With the lighter in hand, I light the mound of flammables. The flame grows and grows. For a moment, the heat feels soothing to my cold hands. The toaster smiles with his mouth full of metal teeth and his belly full of soup. The appliances complement the cozy fire. The ladle and the serving spoon nestle down together and fall asleep. Soon they all are resting soundly. The fire grows to a blaze and moves like an angry animal as it engulfs the wooden table. I am pleased as my new friends look peaceful in their sleep. Their faces begin to fade. The utensils lose their arms and legs. “No, don’t go!” I cry. The heat burns my skin as the fire grows and grows. My mind hurts and flashes of my sanity come back into view. The floor is covered in spilled soup. Green beans are strewn on the countertops. Beans are scattered around. The fire ignites the ceiling and fills the room. I scream and run back into the corner. My skin is red and hot. “Help!” I yell. “Help me!” It is too late. With my eyes fixed on the fiery red creature who dances before me. The pain fades and I fall into a deep deep sleep.