We Are Sorry for the Inconvenience

This is what we tell the newborns. We apologize for the inconvenience. We don’t explain. We just tell them, hoping that one day they will understand.

We had to go underground to survive. We were the hunted, relentlessly so. That was 40 years ago, and still, we remain out of the light of the life-giving sun. There will be no reprieve. Those who remained on the surface blotted out all joy.  

Those of us from before, the ones who remember the sun and the moon, most of them went insane. I was there at the beginning of our exile. I was 9 years old. Now I am the caretaker of the garden that feeds our people.

Early on, life was unforgiving, and I learned to be brutal, with myself of course. I had to help my mother make it through, but she didn’t, succumbing to depression within the first year. We sent the dead down the underground river that emptied to the sea, somewhere so far from our existence, it has been forgotten.

My name is Amy. It’s the name I gave myself. We all gave ourselves new names for our new lives. My comfort friend chose Danny. I think he chose it for someone he knew back from before, but he’ll never tell. And I won’t ask at risk of his banishment.

Danny was the key to our long-term survival. It took many years, but Danny created a way to channel filaments of sunlight through the earth and into our garden. Undetectable on the surface, these filaments swam through rock and dirt like fireflies. They tiptoed on the crowns of the plants and moved into them like blood.

Once a week, we each received a shot of the golden nectar. You would enter a chamber and pull a weighted mask over your eyes. For 10 minutes, pulses of sunlight streamed through your pupils, but you couldn’t see anything, you could only feel the sun enveloping you like butter. To me, it felt like breathing water, and I carried that precious energy with me to the garden.

One day, I woke in the garden to a chorus of concerns, Danny shaking me. “What?” I said. “There has been an emergency. One of our filaments has been extinguished. We’ve been exposed.” I began to cry.

I felt like I was falling through sand, farther and farther, toward the other side of the universe. Danny pulled me up and we headed to the joining center. The others were there. Danny pointed to the damaged filament on our community map. It was way too close to the garden. One filament out in the garden and we would starve.

The old woman, Edregon, came up and placed her hand on the map. It buzzed and set us all mute. “I will go, I’m old but I can still be useful.” Struck dumb, we just nodded and she de-materialized.

Many months went by and every few weeks another filament went out, but the garden held. We took smaller plants into the chamber to encourage faster growth, but the chamber couldn’t accommodate both human and plant. We knew time was contracting and without change, we’d soon be cold little balls rolling to the sea.

“I’ll go to the surface,” Danny said. Three others gathered around him, hands fluttering over his head. They draped the Savory cloak over his shoulders, chanting in their sing-song-y way and then, Danny was gone.

We slept in the dark, ate in the dark, cleaned and dressed in the dark. The garden light and the weekly 10-minute blast continued but difficult decisions lay ahead.

Months later, the youngest began to fall ill. The elders held them in the light chamber, but the signal was too weak to nurture both. The frailest of each melted away. By the end of the current cycle, only 20 of us remained, 4 children and no elders. I believed that both Danny and Edregon were dead but kept that to myself.

On the last day of our meager harvest, smoke began to fill the garden. Smoke or steam or breath, we couldn’t tell. It smelled of animal magic and was the color of river rocks. We gathered around the garden reaching out into nothing. One by one we sat down as if hypnotized. A low hum rose and suddenly a voice boomed out “Rise children, you have been avenged.”

I looked around and saw nothing but the smoke which curled and twisted and reached the cave ceiling. Drops of sunlight appeared within the towering smoke and our spell was broken. We all stood.

“What are you?” I said.

“I am the life everlasting and the death everpresent.”

“Where are Danny and Edregon?”

“They are within. Their bravery took them far, but they had to find each other to save the world.”

“Did they,” I asked?

“Oh yes, dear one, they did. They came together like thunderclap and trombone. The explosion rippled over the land disintegrating the joyless ones where they stood. But it also took Danny and Edregon.”

Everyone exclaimed and clapped their hands and screamed and yelled. WE ARE SAVED!

“No,” the smoke said. “You must carry everyone to the chamber. First, put all the children in together. They must stay in for 12 hours. The filaments are not yet restored, and it will take time to nurture them back to life. Then, you must do the same for the rest, three at a time for 9 hours. Bit by bit you must restore your balance. Do not eat, or drink, or bathe or sleep until everyone has been in the chamber.”

“Is that all?”

“No, when everyone has been in the chamber, shut it down and go to sleep.”

With that, the smoke was gone, and we began the ritual. I would go last alone. When it was done, we went to our sleeping places.

I don’t know how long we slept but we woke up together, no, not together, but as one. I woke up but I was everyone. There was no body, no cave, no garden, but the smoke returned. And there was light. I felt as if we were the light of the world, of the heavens, of all of life.

The smoke swirled around and away, leaving one thought behind: We apologize for the inconvenience, but we trust you are happy with the result. No do-overs accepted.