Remember When Y2K Was a Thing?

Vanessa could barely breathe in this crowded store with all these shoppers turned psychopaths in her way. And every breath was a putrid mix of BO, sweat, and sickly sweet perfumes and aftershaves meant to cover the stench of sweat and body odor. Fights broke out in the aisles over the last package of toilet paper and can of soup. Why, oh why, did she volunteer to do a last minute run for her mother on New Years Eve? 

“Slim pickings,” her older brother said while stirring her clear of a fistfight that had broken out over a battered flat of ramen noodles. Security was coming, but while the two men duked it out, a little Hispanic woman snuck in and stole their prize. 

“Don’t I know it, Patrick,” she huffed. This was insanity! Most of the shelves were bare and what was left hardly looked worth having after being pawed over by the masses. The news was counting down to the new millennium, anticipating disaster when the clock hit midnight due to the machines’ inability to process the ‘2’ in the year 2000. According to the predictions by ‘the experts’ (and she was sure to put that title in quotes), airplanes would fall out of the sky, trains would derail, water treatment facilities would stop working, missiles would launch… Basically, the worst parts of the Bible would usher in the new millennium. Some people - like her parents - had been stocking up non-perishable goods for months in anticipation of the Apocalypse to come. This trip was only to see if there was any last minute food or supplies available before the world derailed.

Vanessa maintained that it was all fear-mongering by a populace that needed something to fear but still went along with her parents’ paranoia since she was only 16 and had no choice. For months, she’d been reorganizing the shed with her father and every spare closet and room in her parents’ 5 bedroom, 4 and a half baths house. There was a surplus of soups, noodles, dry cereal, powdered milk, paper towels, rubber gloves and anything else you could imagine in their house. 

“You know what would be funny?” she asked, her shoulders slumping. “We do all this work gathering supplies, get everything ready, and a plane falls out of the sky and crashes into our house.”

“Don’t let Mom hear you say that,” Patrick warned. “You know how she is about omens-”

“Yeah, yeah,” the teenager waved off his explanation. “But you have to admit that it would be ironic. All that time spent worrying and stocking up and suddenly our surplus is being pillaged by looters!”

“Ironic, yes. Funny… not so much.” Vanessa groaned. She should have known that her straight-edge big brother wouldn’t find the humor in such a situation. No one in her family got her sense of humor. It made telling jokes awkward around the dinner table unless her other brother, Richard was there to share the meal. Speaking of…

“Is Richie coming home tonight? I know he said he was going to that party and not to wait up, but I was kinda hoping…”

“You know I can’t keep up with Richard’s social schedule,” Patrick shrugged as they exited the pet food aisle and headed to baking needs on a whim. “Mom got a promise out of him to come home as close to the Ball Drop as possible, but that could fall on either side of midnight. And you know how much our brother loves to  party with those friends of his.” He scooted out of the way of a man dashing through the aisle with a damaged bag of dog kibble, the trail of bits being ground underfoot by uncaring customers. 

“Would he really risk the Wrath of Mom by missing midnight with the family?” the girl gasped. Again Patrick shrugged. “I can’t say I blame him. I ‘d rather hang out with my friends than the doom and gloom squad at home. If something really does come of all this Y2K nonsense, at least I’d be someone else’s problem for a while.”

“You know how much it would break Mom and Dad’s hearts to hear you right now, right?” It was Vanessa’s turn to shrug, bending over to pretend she was reading the label on a damaged bag of flour. Seriously, when this whole thing blew over the shops in this town were going to have to mark down half their remaining stock just to make a profit! A wild eyed man snatched the bag up while she was looking at it.

“I saw it first! It’s mine,” he yelled at her. Vanessa raised her hands in surrender as he slowly backed away from her. A portly woman came up behind him and tried to snatch the bag from him. The two tousled and the bag tore, its contents spilling all over the flour. The woman screamed and went for the man’s throat, who cowered and ran away. Security was called and the siblings ducked out of the aisle.

“This is crazy! It’s worse than Black Friday with the crowds and the brawling! Mom and Dad have been stockpiling for months now. We don’t need to be here right now!” The teenager bypassed a couple of brawlers fighting over a can of lighter fluid. When she saw two full grown women on the floor, battling over a heretofore hidden bag of Jolly ranchers in the empty candy aisle, she called it. Getting out of the store was going to be hard enough. Not to mention the insanity of the roads right now. How were they going to make it home without getting into an accident?

“Come on, sis. Let’s get out of here,” Patrick said, grabbing her hand so she abandoned her empty cart. The two made their way as stealthily as possible to the exit. The staff checked them for contraband and they were on their way to their car. 

“Hey! Why didn’t you buy something in there?” The Dog Food man shouted at their backs. He was holding his purchase desperately, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was still trailing kibble like breadcrumbs out of the store. A couple of people gathered around him, looking for the entertainment of yet another fight. So much for being inconspicuous.

“That’s none of your business,” Vanessa whirled on the man. She stood with her hands on her hips, her blue eyes practically shooting sparks. Patrick laid a stilling hand on her shoulder and addressed the man as the crowd grew.

“We don’t want any trouble, man,” he said soothingly. 

“What are you doing here if you didn’t want to buy anything?” Dog Food Man continued, sounding frantic. “What? You think you’re better than us? The world’s about to end and you’re turning up your nose at food?”

“Stop it,” Vanessa snapped. “We didn’t buy anything because we didn’t want to buy anything. Go home and stop trying to pick a fight with us!” 

“You're holding out on us, aren’t you?” He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “You’ve already gotten the good stuff and now you’re here to rub our noses in it. Where do you live? How DARE you mock our suffering?”

Both siblings were speechless. Were things really that bad that an unprepared soul would try to slut-shame them into offering him their home address? Without a word, Vanessa grabbed her brother and pushed her way out of the fighter’s circle that had formed around them.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me!”

“Your dog food is spilling all over the ground,” she deadpanned. “You might want to head back inside and have someone tape up the bag before you lose anymore.” The two got in their sedan and set off for home. It was a miracle that they got out of the parking lot without getting into an accident. Still, it took 20 minutes to work their way out. 

“I can’t believe the nerve of that idiot! That he would demand that we give him our address just so he could loot us! I ought to-”

“Don’t look now, but I think his preaching earned us a following.” Indeed, there was a line of cars taking every turn they did. Dog Food Man was right on their tail. “Seems he was serious about getting our address.”

“What do we do?” the teenager cried out in dismay. It was one thing to stand up to a bully in the parking lot. But if these morons got a hold of their home address…

“Hold on, little sister. I’m going to try and lose them.” With driving skills she did not know he possessed, Patrick spent the next half-hour leading their entourage through the mean streets of downtown and lost the majority of them in the maze of the inner city. Dog Food Man seemed determined though, sticking to them like glue. Finally losing his temper, her brother slammed into a parking lot, slammed on the brakes, and jumped out of the car, heading straight for Dog Food Man’s car like an angry pitbull. Standing 6-foot-2 and built like a pitbull from a lifetime of wrestling, he was an intimidating sight. Dog Food Man jumped out of his vehicle to meet the threat, though. Clearly he was desperate. Patrick grabbed him by the collar and shook him like a ragdoll.

“Stop following us,” he screamed in the scrawny man’s face.

“I just want some food and provisions, man,” Dog Food Man whined. “Can’t you share? Have a heart. Why can’t you show some peace, love, and charity? I only need-”

“What’s going on here?” a loud, intimidating voice interrupted his plea. 

“What’s going on is that this lying sack of shit, this weasel has been following us since we left the grocery store trying to find out where we live!” Patrick growled out loudly, seemingly unaffected by the cop coming up behind him. 

“Wh-what’s a cop doing here?” Dog Food Man stuttered.

“Because this is a police station, fool,” Vanessa jumped in. The reaction was immediate. Dog Food Man tore himself away from her brother, jumped in his car, and tore out of the driveway like the hounds of Hell were on his tail. 

“Thank you so much, officer,” she turned to the policeman gratefully.he was a heavyset older man, but still looked like he could throw down in a fight.

“You’re lucky I was heading out for my shift. It was a smart move coming to the station house. We’ve been up to our eyeballs with the looting and theft lately. Be careful out there.” Without another word, he left for his squad car. Vanessa and Patrick were sure to follow the officer out of the parking lot and took the long way home, watching for tails the whole way.

…  …

“Where have you been? I was worried sick!” Rachel screamed at the two, even as she hugged the breath out of the both of them. “You know your brother is here? I was about to send him out looking for you!”

“Mom, calm down,” Vanessa gasped as soon as her lungs allowed it. “We had a wild time of it tonight.” Their mother’s indignation quickly turned to horror as they recounted their adventures.

“You’re sure you weren’t followed?” she said fearfully. “Oh, this is all my fault! I never should have sent you out this late in the day.”

“It’s fine, Mom,” Patrick sighed. “Everything worked out. And I made sure that guy wasn’t following us. That’s why it took so long to get home. What’s for dinner?” He tried to change the subject, but Rachel was having none of it.

“Leroy, listen to this,” Rachel yelled for her husband, who was boarding up the windows upstairs and down. He was determined that no one was going to loot their house once the calamity hit at midnight. Hearing of his children’s ordeal, he went downstairs and pulled the rifle out of the safe in the basement, loading it and setting it by the couch in the living room.

“Dad! Is that really necessary?” Vanessa scolded. Her father glared at her.

“You say that a line of vultures followed you out of a store parking lot, intent on following you home and looting our place, and then you have the gall to ask if a rifle for protection is necessary?” Everyone in the house blinked at the reply. Leroy Umbridge was not a talkative man. This was the most any of them had ever heard him say at one time. 

“Damn, Dad. Things must really be looking grim if you’re getting chatty,” Richard laughed as he came down the stairs. The awkward laughter was worth the joke. Everyone was more relaxed afterward and it felt good to laugh together after all the stress of the past few months. 

Dinner was lasagna, and everyone ate heartily, dreading that this would be the last regular meal for a long time. Once the kitchen was cleaned up, the TV was turned back on to monitor the countdown to disaster. Newscasters panicked as they tried to give tips to their equally panicked audiences. No one wanted to be on the street if they could help it. As the magic hour approached, even naysayers like Vanessa could feel a sense of trepidation.

“What was that?” the teenager whimpered at 10:30. Everyone listened carefully.

“Gunshots,” Leroy said laconically. Rachel looked terrified for a second before getting her expression under control.

“Thank God you unearthed that old rifle of yours, Leroy,” she settled on.

“How many bullets do you have for it, Dad?” Patrick chuckled worriedly. “Maybe that’s where Vanessa and I should have gone.”

The three children had been trained on the weapon from childhood, but they were all painfully aware that training cost bullets.

“Don’t worry, kids. I have extra,” their father soothed them all, pulling several bullet boxes out of his baggy sweater. “We’ll all be fine. Vanessa, why don’t you grab those bows and arrows downstairs? We want to be armed should the worst befall.” The girl rushed down to the basement to grab the weapons, grateful beyond telling for her father and his foresight. She hugged him tight after passing out the weapons. It disturbed her to feel the fine tremors as she hugged him. 

The family sat around after that, reminiscing over the past year and comparing 1999 to earlier years. 

“Remember when Liam broke his arm attempting to skydive off the roof with a sheet?” Vanessa giggled, recalling how the 7-year-old had attempted to airdrop on the family cat in February.

“Nessa… We’re supposed to be remembering happy memories from the year,” Rachel scolded her while trying to contain her own giggles.

“Oh, come on, Mom! You have to admit it was pretty funny. Especially the way he kept yelling ‘I’m gonna be Batman for Christmas’ all the way to the ambulance. Even the paramedics were laughing!”

“Okay, I got one,” Richard laughed once they managed to stop laughing. “Remember when Vanessa tried to dye her hair with that fancy-”

“That was not funny,” the teenager pouted, forcing the corners of her mouth down.

“Oh, yes, it was,” her other brother laughed. The family joined in, but she felt the need to defend herself.

“How was Mia and I supposed to know that combination of chemicals would turn my hair bright pink?” she whined, still fighting not to laugh.

“You have to admit, it made your yearbook picture memorable,” Patrick chortled.

“Hey guys,” Richard broke into the ribbing, his voice devoid of humor suddenly. “It’s time.” The news people were wishing their viewers godspeed and warning them to have radios available in case the TVs went offline. The last-minute tests of the Emergency Broadcast System were annoying, but everyone insisted that it was necessary.

“I know this is all a hoax,” Vanessa whined quietly to her favorite brother, Richie, as they both went to get ice water from the kitchen. “Why am I suddenly feeling nervous?”

“I don’t know, sis. All I know is that I’ll see you on the other side of the new millennium either way, okay? We’ll face whatever is coming together.”

“I just-”

“Get in here, you two. The Ball’s about to drop!” The two rolled their eyes, but ran back to the living room.

“Ten… nine… eight…”

Butterflies launched in her stomach. This was it. The beginning of the end or just another day? They’d know in a few seconds.

“Three… two… one… HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The whole family all braced themselves as if for an explosion.

Nothing.

As one, they turned to the TV. The first ten minutes of the New Year were spent silently scouring the news and radio stations, hunting for catastrophes or any misfortune that might justify all this strife and preparation. A slot machine in Atlantic City had shut down from the change in the millennium, but so far, so good.

“I… I can’t believe… there are no words,” her mother broke the tense silence. “All those months of planning, all the- What the heck are we gonna do with 50 jumbo bags of toilet paper?” By the time the shocked housewife was through processing, she was furious. Leroy approached his fuming wife cautiously, calling on 20 plus years of marital bliss to calm her down.

“We’ll use them. And we won’t have to worry about buying more for a year or more,” he soothed his bride. “Same with the food. The kids will take some too. Don’t worry.”