Today’s A New Day

I dreamt we danced under the stars. The CVS parking lot was empty and the street light acted as our own personal spotlight. Music played softly from inside your truck as you slowly twirled me alongside it. In my dream, we were alone, not just in the parking lot, but alone from the world. As we danced we created our own. 

        In our world, the static that interrupted our song, didn’t exist. In our world, gnats and moths weren’t fluttering back and forth across our spotlight and we didn’t have to swipe them away from our faces. There was no August heat making our hands clammy and causing my curls to frizz and swell. We made everything perfect as we held each other close and swayed to the night’s song. 

        It was a dream inside of a dream. 

        Although, my favorite part of this dream weren’t the things that we ignored and remade, but the details that we didn’t have to change. For instance, I will never forget the way your eyes shone beneath that CVS streetlight. The way your lashes casted shadows across your face, transforming those light grey orbs into dark storms as they stared down at me. I will never forget the way your lips silently moved along with the song, singing the words of--well-- that country singer you always wanted to go see in concert. And while I may not remember the singer’s name, I will roll over in my grave before I forget the way it felt to be in your arms. Our town was the safest in all of Virginia, but I swear, I never felt safer than in that moment, when you held me close. 

        I don’t know if you memorized every second of that night like I did, but I hope you never forget the way you felt as we danced. I hope you felt yourself fall in love with me the way I felt myself fall for you--like a tidal wave in the pit of my stomach, washing away all reason and sanity, leaving only you. 

        I’m not sure how long we danced. It could’ve been for one song, maybe twelve, but it managed to feel like a lifetime. I remember feeling your muscles tighten underneath my fingertip, and feeling my heart leap into my throat as I realized what you were about to do. I sent a silent prayer to Heaven that you wouldn’t drop me as you slowly tipped me backwards. 

        You kissed me under that spotlight. Despite the heat, sweat, and bugs, you kissed me for a long time. It was only a soft caress, but I could feel the love. 

        The song ended, but a tune of my own began as you lifted me back onto my feet. 

        Slowly, traces of dawn began to appear across the horizon, and our spotlight began to fade. You manage to pull me onto the back of your truck, and together we watch as the sun transforms the sky from navy blue, to purple and pink. You kiss my hair, running your fingers through my already ruined curls. 

        I--

        Wake up. 

        I know I’m awake without even opening my eyes. August heat is replaced with October winds, and I feel tears drying to my cheeks. I’m cold but I can’t move. Instead, I try and hold onto the fading memory, the dream that made me cry tears of joy. It’s been a long time since I thought of that night in the CVS parking lot, and I’m not ready to let the memory go, even as it fades back into the shadows of my mind. 

        “Bad dream?”

        Reluctantly, I peel open my eyes to find Theo staring down at me, his hands busily shoving supplies into our backpacks. Behind him, I notice the sun creeping towards the sky through a dirty window. 

        When I don’t answer him, Theo sighs before dropping a can of peaches into my pack and sliding closer to me, lifting me so that I could lean into him. I welcome the warmth his body provides, and just like in my dream, we watch the sun paint the sky. 

        As we wait for the world to fully transform, I do a quick scan of our surroundings. 

        For the past month, this abandoned shack has been our dwelling. Years of neglect has rendered it practically useless for all purposes other than protection from the rain. The decaying wood nearly makes exploring the house impossible--we decided the upstairs portion was completely off limits when Theo nearly fell through the staircase-- but the parts that I have seen make me wish I’d been here when it was in its prime. 

        It’s an old country home, small but cozy. The kitchen is almost too small for the two of us to fit in at the same time, but thankfully, the pantry was loaded with canned food and supplies. We slept in the living room, on an old couch that took hours to clean before I deemed it suitable. While it beat sleeping on the freezing floor, I regretted not being able to make it to the upstairs bedroom every morning as I cracked my back twenty different ways. I knew Theo felt the same, but we never complained to each other, just occasionally helped the other work out a cramp and kept moving. In the corner sat a tiny fireplace. We spent a majority of the day gathering sticks for dinner, only to kill the fire before bed. The last thing we needed was for a breeze to blow an ember wayward and burn the entire structure down. Which meant warmth depended between the two of us and the pile of blankets we’d managed to find on the journey here. For now, it was suitable, but winter would not be nearly as forgiving as the late summer night and chilling fall. 

        Today, we start our hunt for a home. As soon as the sun reaches its morning peak, Theo will let me go and we will grab our few possessions before leaving this place behind forever. While I can’t say that I’ll miss almost freezing to death every night, I can say that this place offered a safety that we won’t find outside. If we’re lucky, we’ll find somewhere else to hunker down, but safe houses are few and far between. 

        Finally, the silent countdown reaches zero, and it’s time to leave. Theo stands before me and gently helps me to my feet before handing me a small jar of apples to nibble on while we walk. The broken seal suggests that he’s already had his share, and together we strap ourselves down with our many supplies before leaving the country home. 

        Long before the world fell apart, Theo’s dad became obsessed with cartography. When Mr. Bailey wasn’t working long hours at the textile plant, he was charting maps and learning different ways to read them. Because of his obsession, Theo was taught how to read and memorize maps at a very early age-- a hobby that turned into a survival skill when all electricity went down. As usual, last night we sat down and planned our route over a dinner of canned corn and beans, and charted our journey, debating which courses are most safe and effective. It wasn’t a long meeting, due to the fact that our plan of action has been the same for over three months now, but at this point, any routine that doesn’t involve running for our lives is welcome. 

So now, we walk alongside the road, hands resting on the pistols we managed to find hidden away in the country home. Despite being fully loaded, I silently pray that we don’t come across anything that may need a bullet. Not because I’m a weak shot, but because the gun fire will be the equivalent of a nuclear explosion in the stillness that has settled over the world in the past year. The last thing we need is to bring attention to ourselves. Nevertheless, neither of us take our hands too far away from our weapons. 

Better to be safe than sorry. 

After about an hour of walking, Theo begins to hum quietly to himself. It takes a moment for me to recognize the song, but I nearly trip over my feet when I realize it’s the same song we danced to that night in the CVS parking lot. The irony isn’t lost on me, and I gently tuck my free hand into his. His fingers wrap around mine, and for some reason the gesture overloads me with unexpected sadness. 

How did we get here?

Theo wanted to be an engineer and I was going to be a pediatrician. 

How did we end up walking alongside a broken highway, surrounded by abandoned cars, with no one in our lives other than each other?

 With nothing but our soft footsteps to distract me from the extreme volume of my thoughts, I spiral, sinking into my own memories. 

I remember when everyone started getting sick. At first, it was swept under the rug by the media and no one truly took it seriously. Even I, the practicing doctor, laughed at the ridiculousness of a worldwide pandemic. It was only when people started dying by the thousands did the true investigations come to light. 

Genetically modified crops--once considered a life saver, killing away the bad effects of nature and enhancing the beneficial ones--soon turned itself into an unstoppable killer. Scientists hadn’t realized that they’d tampered with the wrong mixtures before it was too late. Years of modifying not only made fruits and vegetables unnatural, but it also meant that people were only eating scientifically engineered chemicals. The cause of the virus remained unknown for years before someone finally started to consider the truth. With few remaining, and not enough time to truly commit to trial and error, the cure fell through the cracks, taking any hope for salvation with it. 

Of course, whoever the virus didn’t take out, the remaining radicals finished off. Cults across the country started claiming all kinds of reasons for killing each other. The most shocking I’d seen was an enormous cult of christians hacking down random citizens exclaiming, “We’ve sinned and now God wants us punished!” They claimed to be assisting God with his work by murdering anyone they saw fit. 

At first, Theo and I watched the entire world fall to pieces from our couch, making sure to call our families everyday to check in, and only leaving our apartment when it was absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for the outside chaos to strike home. 

First, the virus took his family. 

Not long after, a rogue group of God-fearing cult members burnt my parent’s house down, locking them inside as they slept. 

Sorrow and fear kept us rooted. It was only when it became obvious that even our sleepy town couldn’t be trusted to stay safe, did we decide to leave. We wanted distance from everyone, whether it be because of the murderers or the plague, and we had no other reasons to stay. 

Now we wander, searching for anything decent and empty. Theo guesses the best place to start will be somewhere midwest. With nothing else to lose and nowhere else to go, I accepted his offer with a shrug of my shoulders and a small encouraging smile. 

We don’t rush. With nothing but time on our hands, we keep a slow pace and whenever we start to feel tired, we rest. There’s no mission to accomplish, no government to eradicate: just us. 

It was around midday when we decided to stop for lunch. The highway was empty and the only consistent noises were the chatter birds that watched us curiously from their peaks.

 I decide to finish the jar of apples from earlier, and Theo grabs a can of corn. 

It was a long while before either of us spoke.

“Jacob.”

I look up at him, surprised by the sound of his voice. He quirks an eyebrow at me, waiting on me to respond. I can’t keep the smile off of my face as I become excited. 

“Katherine,” I challenge. 

Theo wrinkles his nose, his eyebrows furrowing in exaggerated disgust. “No! Thomas.” 

“Why do you always pick the most obvious ones,” I ask, laughing lightly. “Why not something special like, Kiara?”

He ponders it for a moment, whispering the name to himself, 

“I like it, but I’m not sure if your mother would’ve approved.”

I ignore the faint sting that accompanies the mention of my mother, and try and keep the mood light. 

“Good thing it would’ve been my daughter then.”

He smiles. “So we have a girl’s name. Now we need a boy’s.”

“Andrew.”

“No. Jackson.”

“God, no! Peter.”

We continue to bicker back and forth, in search for the perfect name for the perfect kid that will never exist. 

It used to be a game we played late at night when we bought our first apartment. Back then everything seemed so new, and it was obvious that one day we were going to have a family. When neither of us could sleep, we would play the Name Game for hours until one of us collapsed. 

After the “end of the world,” Theo and I agreed that we would never bring a child into this. It wasn’t worth the risks, let alone having another life to support on top of our own. No matter how much it hurt, we couldn’t be that selfish. 

Either way, the game is still fun to play whenever we get bored. 

This round ended with Payton and Kiara. 

I used to keep a tiny book of winners, so when the time came we could have a final round, but it was long gone. Probably still sitting on my desk back in Virginia. 

Discarding the thought as quickly as it came, I nibble on the leftovers of an apple peel. Only when all of my apples are gone, and Theo can’t stand the taste of corn any longer, do we pack up. Theo reviews his map and then, despite the protest of my aching feet, we start walking again. 

Almost as soon as my feet hit the pavement, my mind begins to create a journey of its own. To my surprise, my thoughts don’t rear backward to the life we left behind in Virginia, but to the future that Theo and I hope to find. I’ve known from the beginning of this venture that it would only be the two of us, but now that we only have an estimated two or three days worth of walking left, I start to imagine the life we may have in a few months. 

No family. 

No friends. 

        Just us. 

        For the first time ever, my hands don’t drift toward Theo’s at the thought. For the first time, it truly dawns on me just how alone and empty the world became when it collapsed on itself. 

        No movie had prepared me for this. 

        No book went beyond the action and adventure. 

        In truth, the movies had lied. While the beginning of this disaster was just as chaotic as the screen, the aftermath was eerily still. As far as I could tell, the only movement for miles, despite Theo and I, were the crows that flew overhead and the occasional deer that stared at us from the long grass. 

        In truth, when the chaos stops and everything from the past is burnt away in memory, the end of the world can be a peace, or a silent, ear splitting insanity. 

        I guess it depends on the person one shares the silence with. 

        As if sensing my thoughts, Theo threads his fingers through mine, and my panic slowly fades. 

        I’m not sure how long we walk before we start contemplating shelter. Considering the highway was empty except for the occasional abandoned car, we really didn’t have much to debate on. If anything, the only problem we came across was finding something big enough for the both of us. 

When I first saw the van, I was immediately horrified by the “Son of Christ Baptist Church” that was stamped on the side of it. Of course, Theo was supportive as ever and even started to pull me away from the vehicle, but I knew the days were becoming shorter and we couldn’t risk being out in the open when the sun fell. We searched the van thoroughly before dinner--a solemn affair thanks to my extreme discomfort. Once we’re satisfied, we each settle down in our own rows, making the best out of the limited room. 

“Goodnight,” he whispers softly.

”Sleep tight,” I finish for him before the exhaustion of the day finally catches up with me, and my dreams transport me to a world beyond this one. To a world we can truly call our own.