Brief and Random Conversations During the Apocalypse

This story contains references to drugs and violence.

“When I was 16 I killed a man.”

“What?”

“I said, when I was 16 I killed a man.”

“I heard what you said, Beth. I’m just not understanding the premise. Is this one of those new games the kids are playing now? You know I’m not on social media.”

“No, I’m literally telling you that when I was 16 years old, I ran over a man in my daddy’s 1965 Chevy pickup truck and flattened him out like a pancake.”

“Why?”

“Why am I telling you, or why did I kill a man?”

“Both, I guess.”

“So, the killing was a total accident. I was hanging out at the town creek one afternoon with a few of my friends, just throwing rocks in the water, when Frank Morgan shows up and bets me fifty dollars that I can’t jump over the creek in Daddy’s Chevy. Now, Frank was a real instigator and I was bored as hell. Plus, you know how I’m never one to back down from a challenge. Naturally I took him up on it...”

“You accidentally put the truck in reverse and backed up into him, didn’t you?”

“How the hell did you know that, Leo?”

“It just seemed like the logical conclusion to an accidental killing story involving a truck. Plus, you’re always reversing when you mean to go forward. You also killed two mailboxes and a possum that way.”

“Fair point.”

“So, did you go to jail?”

“No. My friends and I buried the body at the bottom of the lake. Used a couple heavy rocks. Worked like a charm.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah I haven’t talked to anyone about it since. It’s been almost 30 years.”

“So why are you telling me this now?”

“Because we’ve been dating for almost a year now. Figure you should know everything about me before we go wherever it is we’re going. Well, now you know everything about me.”

“This definitely has to be the weirdest smoke breaks we’ve ever had.”

“It beats bagging up groceries, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess it does.”

“Why is everyone even bothering to loot the store anyway? Don’t they know the world is about to end?”

“You’d think so. Maybe they don’t watch the news and they think whatever is going on is just a bit of bad weather.”

“Some people really are out to lunch.”

--

“Another cup of tea, Dottie?”

“Yes please, Ginny.”

“And another biscuit as well?”

“Oh, I dunno. Probably shouldn’t on account of all the sugar. You know what Dr. Morris said.”

“Don’t be silly, dear. It’s the end of the world. What difference does all of that make now?”

“Oh my, I suppose you’re right. Might as well make it two biscuits then.”

“Two biscuits coming right up.”

“You think it’s real, Ginny?”

“Do I think what’s real, Dottie?”

“God. Heaven. Hell. All that stuff.”

“Not very likely, old gal. Didn’t you ever read the Book of Revelations?”

“Nah. Never made it past Genesis, to be honest. Biblical language was always a little too flowery for my liking.”

“Well, in that book, the end of days is all fire and brimstone and a dragon with loads of heads. It doesn’t say anything about a massive swirling black hole thingamabob like what’s brewing out the window. So, I figure it’s all just a crock of shite.”

“Oh, I see. But what about all the non-Christian religions? Buddhism. Hinduism. Islam. You reckon those could be true?”

“I suppose they could be. But it’s a little late to read up on any of those now, innit?”

“Good point. Then, in that case, do you have anything stronger than tea?”

“I’ve got some cocaine in the cupboard.”

“Cocaine it is.”

--

“Do you think I was a good father, Stephen?”

“Come on, Dad, do we really have to talk about this now? Can’t we just fish?”

“We haven’t gotten a bite in hours. I think the ominous swirling up in the clouds might've killed all the fish or something.”

“Maybe we just sit in silence then. I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, when the hell else are we going to talk about it? It’s the goddamn apocalypse!”

“Okay, fine. You want the honest truth? Here it goes: you roped me up in a fraudulent real estate scheme, you threw me under the bus for it, I spent five years in jail while you got off scot free, you didn’t tell me I was adopted until five weeks ago, and you never game to any of my baseball games as a kid. Does that answer your question?

“You’re right, son.”

“I am?”

“Yeah. We should just stick to fishing.”

--

“You got me good, Randall. You got me real good.”

“You got me good, too, Bubba. Nice use of that bear trap, by the way. I never saw it coming.”

“Thank you. And, let me say that you definitely earned creativity points for catching me with that crossbow. It’s been years since I’ve been shot at with a crossbow. Really took me back.”

“Thank you kindly.”

“This here is one of them ironic situations. That’s funny. I don’t think I’ve ever seen irony up close.”

“How do you mean?”

“The fact that we’re both laying on this here hill, having just bloodied and mangled each other to shit, a couple minutes away from death. And then, all the sudden, the apocalypse starts happening. That right there is some ironic shit.”

“That’s not ironic, Bubba. It’s just convenient timing.”

“Well, it kinda makes you chuckle is all. Like in one of those darkly humorous sort of ways. You know, I don’t think I remember how this ol’ family feud even started in the first place. Do you, Randall?”

“Honestly, I’m a little hazy on the details myself. Something about your great-great-great-granddaddy telling my great-great-great-granddaddy that he looked dumb in a pair of slacks.”

“You’re telling me that generations of bad blood and gunfights and dozens of our relatives getting killed over the years all started over some pants?”

“Like I said, I’m a bit hazy on the details, but yeah, I think that was the gist.”

“Damn. People really are crazy.”