The Other Side of Ever After

Day 643

Some say we're not human anymore and that we've become something else, but the sun still warms our faces, and the ocean wind still lifts our hair as the waves ebb and flow over our bare feet.

Love is still love. I kiss Jess. He smiles.

We hold hands while walking along Ocean Beach in San Diego. Other couples walk nearby, and some families too. No one walks with dogs. The seagulls ignore us to fly further out over the water on their endless quest for food—survivors like us. By now, they know we won't feed them. Food is too dear.

SeaWorld is no more. Neither is the zoo, but the ocean is still the ocean. She belongs to the earth, controlled by the moon and the wind. God's creation. Are we still God's creation, or are we Austin Nickerson's?

"What was the last movie you saw at a theatre?" Jess asks me.

"Barbie 3."

"Me too!"

I laugh an incredulous laugh. "You did not!"

"I did. I was babysitting my sister. I took her and her friend. My mother was furious. I thought it was a kid's movie."

He shrugged his shoulders. I loved his grin.  

We kept an eye on the sun and left the beach to visit the stores on the boardwalk. Jess follows me into a jewelry store. The businesses are abandoned, but the doors are unlocked. If someone wants something, they're free to take it. We're sharing what's left of San Diego. No one hoards.

I picked up a small gold sea turtle with tiny blue gems for eyes. Pale green sparkles adorn its shell.

"Do you want it?" Jess asks.

"What will I do with it?"

He closed my hand around it.

"Look at it and think of me when I'm not around, and you miss me too much."

I love his arrogance. I slip the turtle into my pocket.

The night came too soon. We used Jess's battery-powered flashlight to cut through an alley, but it was dim to start with and died along the way. Because of that, he tripped.

"Jess!" I shouted. I stooped to help him up, and in doing so, I felt the body. A dead person. Jess clamped his hand over my mouth just before I screamed.

"We can't tell anyone," he whispered. "I have you. You're safe with me."

We ran blindly into the dark.

Day 644

Jess and I rushed through the day's chores and met at the fountain. I arrived first and sat on the edge, squinting in the bright daylight. The fountain doesn't run anymore, and the pool surrounding it is filled with decaying leaves and stagnant rainwater. Coins are still visible on the bottom—wishes from the past.  

When Jess came, we embraced like we hadn't seen each other for months, not hours. Without words, we strolled to the alley.

The body was gone.

"Are you sure this is the right place?"

"No."

We checked two more alleys before worrying someone might be watching, then walked to the beach. No ships sailed on the horizon as we stood at the end of the long pier, listening to the crashing waves and seagulls.

"What would you think if we saw a ship?" I ask.

I'd think of pirates," said Jess. "We'd have to find somewhere to hide because pirates rape and pillage, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake. If they found us, I’d be ready with my sword and save you. You’d be so grateful you’d kneel at my feet."

"Should we be worried, armed, and ready to defend ourselves?" I ask. "Do you think there are such gangs and bandits that haven't found us yet?"

"No. Don't worry, my angel," Jess said to my serious face. His arm came around my shoulders. "The pirates are gone. People aren't like that anymore. Once upon a time, there was a different world, the end. We're living happily ever after now."

I reached for Jess's hand. He didn't sound happily ever after. He was worried about finding that dead person, wondering what he'd died of. So was I. We returned to staring at the sea.

"I didn't get my last dose of the vaccine," Jess said after some time.

The wind caught my breath.

"I don't blame you. No one knew what to believe. The world was in turmoil. Austin the Awful scammed us all."

Austin Nickerson was rumored to have an IQ higher than Albert Einstein or Stephen Hawking. He came along during the coronavirus pandemic and studied how it invaded its hosts—how it mutated—and how various species' immune systems had the ability to fight it off. Ten years later, Austin claimed to have broken the code. He claimed to have created a super vaccination.

A wave broke against the pier getting us wet. A seagull screamed.

"We should check the boards," Jess said. 

The boards are located at the churches. The new internet. The day we lost communication with the rest of the world became Day 0. At first, we couldn't even send telegraphs, but we can now. It was the first technology to come back.

We stopped at All Saints Church and stood before the first of three boards.

_____________________

San Diego Population 131,821

Days 630-640

2 marriages

0 births

0 deaths

Day 0-640

20,034 marriages

0 births

12 deaths

 ____________________

The twelve deaths had been mostly accidental. Six drowned while swimming in the ocean amid dangerous conditions. Three deaths were attributed to accidental falls. Three others were of unknown causes. Without the right medical equipment, it was hard to tell, but the authorities assured us that Austin's XLNC virus was not the cause. The church board also lists the times of the services, the current date, the moon phase, and community requests for help with jobs and chores.

We move to the second board. News from the telegraph.

Seattle, or rather ProForm Pharmaceutical, is asking everyone to send people again. The company represents Seattle. It's Austin Nickerson's company. Their telegram says that with enough people, they could get the power turned back on and fix the internet. Early on, they asked for as many people as we could spare.

A group of a hundred and three left here on day 200 riding bicycles. There are no horses. No gasoline to run the cars. Electric chargers died long ago. Seattle never told us whether our people arrived, even when we asked. In our hearts, we don't believe they did. We'll not be sending anyone else.

Houston says they have a small outbreak. Jess turns to me. I don't look at him. Instead, I moved stoically to the third board.

The third board belongs to the people.

Someone wrote, "I miss you so much, Mom." Another said, "I'm thankful all the rats have died. Is Austin Nickerson a rat?"

Last week, someone wrote. "I woke up with a swollen throat and red eyes." Jess and I believe the post was fake. If true, how were they strong enough to make it to the board? The message brought back some powerful feelings. Some haunting memories.

We found the note we were dreading.

"Leon Garrison, a white male, age fifty (approx.) disappeared from the John Adams Clinic on Day 642. Anyone who may have had contact with him must report to Southside clinic for quarantine."

We had both touched the body.

"I still have a kit hidden away," Jess says low.

"Do you think…?"

"I don't know."

"I think we should get married," I say. "We're at the church, and it's Saturday. What do you say? Will you marry me?" The thought made me crazy. I began to twirl and dance.

Jess scowled just a little. "You're supposed to wait to be asked." Not to be outdone, he dropped to one knee. "Will you marry me?"

"Of course, I'll marry you," I answered.

Jess grabbed both my arms, stopping me from dancing away.

"What will your mom say?"

"We'll find out right after we're married."

Jess no longer had parents.

"What will your sister say?"

"Evelyn loves you. Do you want to get a dress first?"

Jess wore a tuxedo with a top hat and twirled a walking stick with a jeweled bird's head. I wore a long white gown with a string of fake pearls. The handwritten license was sealed with wax after we said our vows.

Mama cried.

Evelyn said she'd always wanted a sister.

"Can I call you Mom?" she asked.

"Of course, you can," I answered.

Day 675 

We had three glorious weeks together, Jess and me.

On the first day of the third week, Jess coughed. He got much worse after that. A fever. Red eyes. Raspy breath.

"You probably thought I was the right one. I'm sorry you were so wrong about me," he whispered.

"You are the best in all the world."

"Don't take me to the clinic."

"Of course, I won't. You're safe with me."

I wouldn't leave his side. No one tried to stop me.

The Lord took him away that night. My own personal Day 0.

Fifteen people shared our mansion-sized oceanfront house. We consider ourselves family in this new world. From the start, we got along. My adopted family was not inclined to turn Jess in. No one reported themselves to quarantine.

I dressed my husband in his tuxedo and top hat. I laid his walking cane beside him in the ornate coffin our household men delivered to our bedroom. During the night, they brought it back from the funeral home guided by the moon's light.

I wanted a midnight service. When it was time, we proceeded to the end of the long pier on Ocean Beach. We lit candles, and Evelyn read a speech she'd written while I clutched my turtle. 

The turtle stands for longevity, strength, wisdom, and patience. Some renditions of the turtle's mythical qualities even say it stands for fertility.

Everyone had a few words to say, but I was out of words, so with great ceremony, the men threw the casket into the ocean for the tide to take away. Jess had always loved the ocean.

While the others made their way back, I stayed on the pier. Evelyn stayed, too. So did my mother, but we kept to ourselves. I needed to wait for the daylight. When the sun touched my back, I left the pier.

It was Day 1.

Day 701,

My Day 25,

 Jess never got his last booster. What did that mean?

Austin Nickerson intruded into my thoughts as the past returned.

"My new vaccine is the only one you'll ever need. Autoimmune diseases and cancer will become afflictions of the past," Austin bragged every time someone put a microphone in front of his face. Austin the Awful, people called him.

The world was out of control at the time, and the news was wrought with violence. Several countries were engaged in war, and every day, everywhere, from one end of the globe to the other, multitudes of people died from acts of violence, gunshot wounds, and stabbings, to name a few. No one cared about or wanted another vaccine until Nickerson appeared on Fox News to promote his and ProForm Pharmaceutical's Serum XLNC and explain the additional benefits of this latest inoculation.

"In addition to immunity from coronaviruses, cancers, and those mysterious autoimmune diseases, the vaccinated will remain youthful well into their sixties. Age one hundred will become the new seventy."

After that, everyone wanted it. ProForm Pharmaceutical became a giant.

People lined up to receive the three doses spaced a full year apart.

The first dose had little to no effects. "I had to keep reminding myself I had gotten it," people reported.

The second dose was a little rougher. Mild fevers. Sore arms.

The final dose wiped out most of the world.

No one knows what went wrong, but by then, reliable information was hard, if not impossible, to come by. Rumors abounded.

Austin Nickerson created and released a deadly virus to test his vaccine. Other versions claimed it was the Russians. Or China.

The biggest rumor was that the entire human race had been scammed into letting Austin Nickerson mutate them from violent aggressors to docile sheep.

Perhaps he didn't realize all of the consequences. There are still no pregnant women.

No one knew whether the man still lived, but if ProForm ever gets the power back on, they will probably rule the world. At least they'd rule San Diego. No one lives here but gentle souls.

Anyway, Jess never got the last vaccine, and Houston was experiencing a small outbreak. There must have been others.

This morning, I stepped outside and threw up the breakfast I'd just eaten. It wasn't the first time. No one saw me. After that, I walked to the Walgreens store a mile or so away and grabbed a few items. Most everything I picked out was expired, but that's part of this new world—the post-fairy tale life.

After leaving the store, I walked to the old fountain.

I sat my paper bag of items on the cement ledge that rimmed the fountain's pool and knelt to pray. After that, I stood and took out the penny I'd taken from a dish beside Walgreen's cash register that aptly read, Need a penny? While holding the turtle in one hand, I tossed the coin into the fountain with the other and made a wish.

I walked home filled with maybes.

Maybe the expired pregnancy test in the bag won't work anymore, but maybe it will.

Maybe since Jess never had that last vaccine dose….

Maybe I won't be disappointed.

Maybe there are others.

Maybe there's hope for us after all.