Sweltering

"We interrupt your regularly scheduled radio program to warn you of an incoming heat wave set to devastate much of mainland USA over the course of the next few days. Earlier this morning, the National Weather Service gave a dire warning about the unusual kind of-"

As he strolls through his neighborhood, young Herbert Newsworth, with chill air blowing onto the back of his neck from his umbrella, flips off the local station on his phone. People, likewise, are walking on the other side of the street with their umbrellas and fans. A pair of shirtless boys pass him on the sidewalk, kicking a ball down the path.

Herbert puts his umbrella down before slipping a glove onto his hand to retrieve the papers from his mailbox. A woman in white is watering plants in a small, makeshift garden outside next door. She approaches the fence bordering their properties, wiping her forehead. Herbert takes notice, and rolls his eyes.

"What's on the tip of your tongue now?"

The woman scoffs as she stops just in front of the fence, facing Herbert.

"Not one of your brightest greetings, I must say."

"Cut to it, I just want to relax. Been an exhausting day."

"When is it not anymore, wise guy?"

Herbert sighs as he takes a glance up at the sky, before dropping his head down to the walkway beneath his feet.

"At least you have what you need to stand this."

"Yeah, yeah."

"You ever going to tell me the kind of work they giving you to get that kind of stuff?"

The lady gestures to Herbert's advanced umbrella, then to his house. The young man looks up to face her, gesturing back toward her watering can.

"Why are you still bothering with that? Just let them die at this point."

Herbert walks up to enter his house, with the woman following his lead to the side.

"Unlike you, I have nothing but time for it! That's my big project you're wishing death upon! My heart and soul!"

Herbert continues his walk without acknowledgment of her words, getting the key for the door from his jean pocket.

"Hey!"

Herbert takes a slow turn around his door to face the woman, leaning forward against the fence.

"Did you hear what the Service said today? About the sun?"

Herbert gives an exasperated nod.

"What they always say."

He turns the key, entering his house without another word.

Herbert plops his umbrella down to the floor beside him and tosses the mail onto the counter to his side.

Wiping a hand across his brow, he walks around into his kitchen to grab the papers.

Examining the junk mail in his hand, one important letter strikes his eye.

Opening it up, he finds a notice in red about the house and utilities bill.

"Those vultures...."

He throws the notice down in front of him, taking a hand to his face.

Herbert goes to the wall in his living room just next to the kitchen, punching inputs into a module hooked into his wall. In a moment, the coldest air starts blasting throughout the house. A satisfied exhale escapes Herbert's lips.

Herbert goes into a closet, retrieving an old blanket. He then drops down into his soft, white couch, throwing the blanket over himself. Turning on his TV, Herbert eases himself into rest. Before too long, rest turns into deep sleep, with the sounds of breaking news easing him into it.

#

Later that day, Herbert is jolted awake by a frantic knock at the door. As he gets up from the couch, Herbert stands confused and frustrated.

Everything was wrong. It shouldn't have been. He paid his leg and arm to keep it as such. Yet, as he stood, he felt it all. The air, unspeakably humid. His body, drenched head to toe in his perspiration.

Hearing the knocks continue, Herbert walks up to get the door. Looking out the peephole, he sees the next door neighbor woman waiting for him.

"Ah!! Shit!"

As he grabs the handle, a searing pain encompasses his entire hand. Herbert goes to the closet to fetch a glove, putting it on before going back to the door and cracking it open.

"Hey, are you alright? What happened?"

"Don't worry about that! Just sit down, and explain to me what the hell you're doing in my house!"

The woman looks at Herbert a tad concerned, but complies, going to the couch.

As the woman goes to sit down, Herbert rushes to the sink, taking careful taps at it to get the water flowing. He puts his hand under the water, lukewarm on the coldest possible setting, and hisses to himself.

"Man, I thought this was supposed to be one of those new age houses where it's all super conditioned."

Herbert wraps his hand tight and goes into the living room, visibly frustrated.

"I thought the same!"

"When did this start?"

"I have no idea. Just woke up from a chill nap I've had a million times."

Herbert checks the module, and notices an indicator emboldened in yellow.

SYSTEMS SUBOPTIMAL. MAY EXPERIENCE TEMP. RISES WHILE REBOOTING.

"No kidding!"

Herbert punches the module and screams to himself, startling the woman on the couch.

Herbert looks back at her and breathes in deep.

"I'm sorry, this day...it's just....hasn't seemed to be going my way."

"No, no...I get it."

Herbert rubs his head, moist from uncontrolled sweat, before sitting beside the lady.

"Anyway, why exactly are you here?"

"Well I thought you were the only person I somewhat knew who had a house that could help with the insufferable heat I'm dealing with."

"So you just barge into my residence uninvited?"

"Is that your way of saying 'get the hell out of my palace, you peasant'?"

"Oh, don't start that sanctimonious garbage. Look, I'm sorry about your situation, but you have your own place. This is mine. That's just how it is. I'm just asking you to respect my boundaries."

"You don't have a clue about what's going on, do you, wise guy?"

"What are you going on about?"

"This wave, it's beyond anything the Service has ever seen before! It's probably why your house is flatlining on you right now!"

Herbert scoffs in her direction, looking out towards the kitchen.

"No wonder..."

Herbert's neighbor shoots a look of desperation into him.

"I can't take this. I don't think any sane person can. I just need any place that can make me forget this pain for as long as I possibly can."

"Why don't you contact a facility that's more capable of giving such aid?"

"Already did, been talking with plenty of them all day. All they seem to say is they're at capacity. 'There's nothing more we can do'."

Herbert puts a hand to his wet head, scratching ceaselessly. Looking down on himself, Herbert notices how drenched his shirt, now latched onto his chest, is.

"Well it's unfortunate you're dealing with such a problem right now, but as you can see, I currently am dealing with one of my own as well. Your lack of readiness to handle this issue isn't my practical concern."

The woman gives a disheartened sigh and puts her head into her hands.

"You have no idea what it is....living the way I do. I pray for all I can get wherever, whenever, however I can scrounge it. With all this, that's gotten worse. Every day...it feels like hell. I just wanted an escape from it. The kind it seems most everyone in this burning sphere has but me."

Herbert gets up from the couch, looking down at the woman.

"Look, I really wish I could help you, but I'm not equipped to grant the charity you need. I'm barely scraping enough to get THIS as it is, especially now, by the sound of it."

"I...I understand."

The woman rises up slow from the couch, making her way toward the door.

"Hey!" Herbert calls out.

The woman turns to face him.

Herbert motions toward the umbrella he left near the door earlier that day.

"Take it."

She picks up the umbrella and opens it up above her head.

"The button on the side will shoot cold air. That should alleviate some of this."

The lady stands by the door in absolute ecstasy, eyes closed as the crisp, chill air blasts her neck and head.

Eyes slowly opening, she nods and gives a forced smile.

Herbert gives a nod back at her. Candace stops just outside the doorway, holding the door open behind her, looking to the right.

"The flowers are starting to wilt."

The woman looks back at Herbert.

"I don't think I'll have enough water for them..."

Candace shuts the door behind her, leaving Herbert alone to his thoughts, and the insufferable, suffocating grasp of the sun's heat.

#

"No, no, no, what do you mean in 24 to 48 hours someone will reach out to me about this?! My house has hardly enough air conditioning to last me the rest of the day! This is completely unacceptable!"

An attempted calm and reassuring female voice rings through Herbert's phone.

"I'm terribly sorry Mr. Newsworth, but we have a large volume of product errors already at the moment with this heat wave. We're going around the clock as best we can to get everyone's conditioning back up."

Herbert pounds his fist into the kitchen counter before raising his hand up in the air above him.

"The kind of money you're making me shill and your garbage can't even stay functional for THIS? What else was your shit made for?!"

"Please calm down, sir, I get you're frustrated but most everyone in your block is having the same issue."

"How could they let this happen?!"

"If you'd like to speak to a representative, I can get you on the line with them."

"Yeah, like that'll do anything!"

"Mr. Newsworth, I really have to hang up on you, I have other lines to pick up, I hope you have a good rest of your day. We will resolve this as fast as we can."

"Oh no, I'm not through-"

The lady hangs up the phone.

"Hello? Hello?"

Herbert slams his phone down on the counter, resting his hands against his head. With one hand, he grabs a fan, blasting it on his moist face.

He feels the heat boiling his brain to a puddle. The ground starts to get wobbly underneath him.

Herbert nearly falls on his face before catching himself with his arm on the wall.

"Ah! Damn!"

Herbert lets his stinging arm off the wall, leaning his back against the wall behind him.

Herbert sets the fan down beside him on the floor, ripping his shirt and work suit off, seeking any relief.

"What the hell are they saying about this..."

With the fan pressed beneath his chin, turned up to its fastest speed, Herbert switches on the TV.

On the screen, a woman sits inside a news studio with two fans on either side of her.

"The heatwave announced earlier today has become more and more dangerous, reaching unprecedented levels. The NWS has reported that this particular wave, not currently expected to stop for the next few days, has reached over 200 degrees Fahrenheit in some areas. We've already experienced several blackouts from workers here in the studio, and several more buildings, including this one has been plagued with sudden, inexplicable shutdowns-"

Herbert starts to tune out the TV noise, as the world around him seems to turn to melting candle wax. The walls start to sway, the world beneath him seems to rumble, and the air beneath his chin becomes imperceptible.

Herbert shakily centers the fan on his face to feel anything but scorching hotness. As he stands, it hits him that the heat has made his face numb to any slight cooling that such devices gave him before.

As Herbert drops the fan to the floor, he feels the sun's hand tight around his neck. Nothing but the pain of unremorseful heat stabbing into his chest, his lungs, his skin, his face.

Searching for mercy from the collapsing, burning Earth around him, Herbert stumbles into the kitchen and opens his fridge.

From it, with shaky hands, he pulls out one of the five gallon water jugs inside. As he starts to open the jug in a hurry, his grip on it slips, and he can only watch as the water spills onto the ground. The last vestige of any coolness, dripping out fast from the top of the jug.

In a blind panic, Herbert goes to the sink and carefully turns it on with his bandaged hand, his tongue dry beyond measure, his throat scratchy, and his brain fixated on finding any sensation of cooling off.

No water comes out.

Herbert pulls the other handle of the sink with the same hand.

Still no water.

Herbert turns to lap up the little that's left of the water jug dripping on the floor.

In his stumbling, his foot slips from the water on the floor, and his head smashes against the edge of the counter, knocking him out cold on his side.

#

It wasn't until late evening that same day when Herbert rose from his unconsciousness. He felt an intense throbbing pain in his head, and the water that was next to him before had long since dried up.

Groggy and weak, Herbert pulled himself up from the floor, using the counter as leverage. Resting both arms against it, he slowly dragged his body towards the living room, propping himself along the wall as he exited the kitchen.

Collapsing both his arms in front of the module, he turned it on only to find what he already knew.

SYSTEMS SUBOPTIMAL. MAY EXPERIENCE TEMP. RISES WHILE REBOOTING.

Herbert wants to cry, but his body has been drained beyond the capacity to.

Not knowing what else to do, Herbert walks along the wall to the front door.

With wobbling knees ready to give out, Herbert opens the door, collapsing forward onto the scorching sidewalk path below.

Turning his head to the right, he sees what was once his nonstop chattering neighbor silently splayed out, on a bed of dying flowers. In one of her hands, Herbert makes out a watering can.

As the sound of ringing pierces through the open door, Herbert lays there on the floor, with only one thought left in his head.

"She did have nice flowers."

Herbert laid there, eyes closed, without a thought or sound more.

In the kitchen, Herbert's phone sits ringing on the counter. After a while, the noise ceases.

"Hello, this is Herbert. I am currently unavailable. Please go ahead and leave a message."

The phone beeps, and chilling air starts to whir alive in the house.

SYSTEMS FUNCTIONAL. READY FOR INPUT.

"Hello Mr. Newsworth, we spoke earlier about the trouble you were experiencing with your house. I am pleased to inform you that it was a simple fix, and the system should be up and running again. On behalf of Chilling America Inc., we thank you for your patience."

The message cuts out.