Landan’s phone pinged again, disturbing the peaceful mountain hiking path.
Woodrow Alfredsone’s right eye twitched from the tension building up in his body. It grew like static electricity in the air. ‘Will you turn that damn thing off? This is a relaxing father-son hike. It’s hard to enjoy the beauty of nature with your mobile beeping like a bomb.’
‘Shh, this is important. Tensions are escalating in—’
He acted without thinking. He’d been absent for most of Landan’s upbringing – gone in the mornings and evenings. He was missing most weekends, and even when he was present, he was tense and exhausted. But what kind of a father would he be if he allowed his teenage kid to silence him with a ‘shh’? It was never too late to start acting like a dad. Woodrow grabbed his son’s phone – hateful device – and hurled it down the mountainside.
The black rectangle clattered and crashed and banged along the rocks. Its screen shattered. Bits of computer chips and internal wiring flew away as it spiralled to its death. ‘Dad! What—’
‘ENOUGH!’
Landan recoiled, eyes wide. He stepped backwards and tripped over a stone. He landed on his backside with a winded grunt.
Woodrow inhaled through his clenched teeth. He wanted what was best for his son. And that involved working long hours to ensure that Landan never wanted for anything. But now – with the military contract signed and sealed – money was no longer a problem. Woodrow could now spend some quality time with his boy. The problem was that he’d left it a bit late, and Landan no longer cared whether his dad did anything with him. So Woodrow needed to find a way to crack through Landan’s ‘I-don’t-give-a-damn’ veneer. ‘No more. This is you-and-me time. I know I haven’t been around much son, but you should know I only ever did it all for you. I worked such long, long hours to give you everything you needed. To bring us to this point where we can enjoy this moment. Right here, right now, on top of the world, looking down upon the beauty of nature. We never have to worry about anything ever again. I’m finished with work – forever. So now let’s enjoy it, okay? I’ve waited so long for this time, so let’s finally enjoy it.’
Landan’s shoulders drooped. The tension bled from his body. He nodded and raised his hands. He’d scraped some of the skin off his palms when he’d fallen, and tiny droplets of blood beaded there. ‘Yeah, yeah. Okay, Dad, okay.’
Woodrow offered his boy his hand and dusted him off once he was back upright. ‘Good lad. I’ll buy you a new one when we get back down – God knows we can afford it, now. Hell, I can buy you ten of them! Now, come on, we’re almost at the summit. Not much further now.’
The trees thinned the higher up they got. The going became more arduous, and the air became cleaner. The path took a turn and led them out to a plateau overlooking the lands. The mountain dropped away, affording them a stunning vista of their local geography. The nearby city – their city, their home – sparkled like a teardrop.
Woodrow was panting and sweating, his heart thudding like an out-of-control jackhammer. But Landan seemed none the worse for their little trek – the wonders of youth. He stood there with his hands on his hips, sweat around his pits, and gestured at the gorgeous views. He tried to speak, but both exhaustion and wonder stunned him into silence.
‘Dad, I—’ Landan shook his head, unable to finish his words. ‘Wow. Nature is…’ He groped for the correct phrase. ‘Nature’s the bomb!’
Woodrow grinned. But that grin didn’t have the chance to last long.
An air raid siren looped through the air, slicing it in half. Birds erupted from the trees in a flock that blotted out the sun. The sinusoidal screech of doom rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell. It reverberated in their brains, their bowels, their bones.
His smile faded, and he grunted like a caveman.
A flash – brighter than a thousand suns – lit up the sky. A faltering heartbeat later, the thud came. It rumbled deep into their hearts, a gunshot to the head of humanity.
Woodrow gasped and raised his hands to protect his eyes. He staggered backwards and crashed into his son, who was doing the same.
Landan reached out and grabbed for his father, scrunching up his shirt in a fist. His pale face no longer revealed the man he was becoming. Instead, he’d regressed into the small boy he’d once been. ‘Daddy! What is that?’
Woodrow could not speak. His tongue felt heavy and lifeless in his mouth. Shards of ice poured into his veins, and the hairs on his neck prickled. He had the vertiginous sense of falling with no end. All he could get out was, ‘Oh my God. Oh my God.’
The mushroom cloud rose on the nearby horizon.
His stomach rolled over, drenched in acid; no wonder the military had rushed to sign the deal. They hadn’t even lasted twelve hours after he jotted his John Hancock on the agreement. Woodrow lifted his thumb, and his insides shrivelled when the cloud dwarfed it.
The city beneath the mushroom cloud had vanished into rubble. An expanding ripple tore across the landscape from the point of detonation. Trees and buildings fell backwards as though they were props made of cardboard. The green earth exploded into radioactive dust. The landscape flattened. The blast sanded every feature and landmark away like an angle grinder. The soil rolled in a wave as though liquified.
Woodrow had wasted his son’s childhood working towards a comfortable future. But all that hard work had branched them off into a timeline where it came back to bite him on the behind. There was money in weapons manufacturing and war profiteering. And such investments would indeed pay off – but not, it seemed, in the direction one would hope. Well, there was no future now. Woodrow had not missed the irony. He threw up his hands. ‘Aw, for God’s sa—’
The shockwave hit them, and all became a blinding white light, followed by darkness.
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
21 comments
What an enjoyable read. I was captivated the entire time. Very structurally sound, and I walk away with a deep understanding. Great descriptive uses as well.
Reply
Thanks, CC!
Reply
Structurally, this was exquisite. The overlap of normality and catastrophe was so well delivered. A vivid depiction of what must have been a reality for many. Amazing work
Reply
Thanks so much, Tom!
Reply
I had a sneaking suspicion where this was going after reading the title. The “tomorrow is never promised” theme is so poignant and the catastrophic ending is a powerful climax that highlights the consequences of Woodrow's choices and priorities in life. Well done!
Reply
Thanks, Brianna!
Reply
The tension in this had me captivated the whole time! Well done!
Reply
Thanks, Kristina!
Reply
That was an intense little story. Make the best of things while you can, I guess. Great take on the prompt.
Reply
Cheers, Ty! I think that's all anybody can ever do!
Reply
I was wondering what was with the wording of the title, and then, you hit me with it. Hahaha ! I, too, thought this was going "Cats in the Cradle". I did not expect that twist. Great job !
Reply
Thanks, Stella! Seeing how two people thought of 'Cat's Cradle' makes me really want to read it, now!
Reply
It's a 1974 song, actually, by Harry Chapin. Very welcome !
Reply
It seems that's what Trudy meant, too! Thanks again.
Reply
And I was having a good day, until..... For a second, I thought you were going in a "Cat's Cradle" direction. But I should have known. Yea, the A bomb, does kinda take the words out of your mouth. Great job!
Reply
Thanks, Trudy! I've never read 'Cat's Cradle' but heard good things. I'll have to add it to my neverending to-read list!
Reply
I was thinking of the song by Harry Chapin. The guy who was too busy for his son "We'll get together then, son. in the end the son says, "We'll get together then, dad." And don't feel bad, I never read the book, either.
Reply
Oh, I completely misunderstood! I thought you were referring to the Vonnegut book because it involves the apocalypse and Hiroshima! Funny how both apply to this story, eh?
Reply
My bad. no harm.
Reply
WOW - the BIG END, and the MC is responsible! That is a sentence that cannot be completed. Thanks for sharing.
Reply
Thanks, John! I guess the entire world had a caesura sliced through its sentence by the nuke!
Reply