{"id":309,"date":"2014-12-08T13:44:42","date_gmt":"2014-12-08T18:44:42","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/chitlinchildren.com\/?page_id=309"},"modified":"2014-12-08T13:48:52","modified_gmt":"2014-12-08T18:48:52","slug":"twilight-by-firelight","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/chitlinchildren.com\/?page_id=309","title":{"rendered":"Twilight by Firelight"},"content":{"rendered":"

This is a story about hope . . . and despair.<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

Evening\u2019s coming on and it\u2019s so nice to be out here. It\u2019s been so long . . . kuhh<\/i> . . . since I\u2019ve felt the evening breeze on my skin. I can see dust devils dancing down at the end of the arroyo and the sun, touching the horizon, . . . kuhh, kuhhf<\/i> . . . is a great golden ball, amber lambency through scattered westerly clouds.<\/p>\n

We\u2019ve got a little fire going and the mesquite smoke smells wonderful. Brian\u2019s just staring at the fire and Angela, wrapped in an old Indian blanket and rocking back and forth, is too. We scraped enough wood off to last a while . . . kuhh<\/i> . . . and I\u2019ve been feeding the flame enough to keep it burning nicely.<\/p>\n

Evening is such a wonderful time, magic and all, when the world changes from light to dark. The world changes all the time, you know. Sometimes the change is good and sometimes bad. Sometimes we even learn our lessons, learn from our mistakes. Most of the time, though, we don\u2019t. We have to keep going over and over the lesson until finally, after some miracle or something, we finally learn.<\/p>\n

I wonder what we\u2019ll learn from our latest lesson. Maybe we shouldn\u2019t play . . . kuhh<\/i> . . . with matches until we know how to keep from being burned?<\/p>\n

It\u2019s like a small child playing with razor blades. I remember the experience myself. As I was in the bathroom investigating these thin, bluish metal items with weird holes cut in them, my fingers got sticky with this red sticky stuff. It took me a while to realize I was leaking; thin, oozing little lines appeared . . . kuhf<\/i> . . . on my fingertips. It took a little . . . kuhh<\/i> . . . longer to realize it was something I didn\u2019t want to happen. It dawned on me I was hurting myself; it was the first time I had seen my blood.<\/p>\n

The sun\u2019s sinking down below the horizon now. I can see it through the thermal ripples out there across the desert. I can\u2019t really look at it directly yet but it\u2019s neat how it kinda breaks up as it goes away.<\/p>\n

The firelight is beginning to make the shadows dance as the general light volume diminishes. Brian\u2019s shadow-nose is flickering from one side to the other and there\u2019s what looks like five-o\u2019clock shadow . . . kuhh, kuhhf<\/i> . . . growing on his cheeks and chin. It seems to be getting darker as I watch it.<\/p>\n

Brian was going to burn the house down but I stopped him. I mean what\u2019s the point, anyway? Just because we won\u2019t be using it anymore, why destroy . . . kuhh <\/i>. . . kuhf, kuhf<\/i> . . . a perfectly good house? Brian\u2019s like that, he\u2019s a hothead.<\/p>\n

Like those people who came through here in the black Chevy Suburban about an hour ago. The vehicle is still sitting in the drive and of no use to us; face it, there’s nowhere to go. And I can understand why Brian wanted to kill them, especially after he found out who they were. It couldn\u2019t be allowed of course, especially in light of who they were.<\/p>\n

We had all decided to go outside and build a fire. Angela and I gathered some mesquite and picked a good spot for the fire right in front of the porch. Brian was piling cardboard boxes, chairs, a couple of tumbleweeds and the like on the porch.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are ya doing that for?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cGonna light up the house before it\u2019s too late,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh? Why?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy not?\u201d he said as he smashed one of our kitchen chairs into bits.<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause maybe someone else can use it after we\u2019re gone,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh yeah, sure.\u201d He went on making his pile.<\/p>\n

. . . kuhh<\/i> . . .<\/p>\n

Angela was coughing pretty much but she was holding up. We scraped the puffballs off the wood we collected, it was dry underneath and burnable and then we built our little fire.<\/p>\n

\u201cI like campfires,\u201d Angela said. \u201cThey always remind me of our trips together.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUp in the mountains,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Those were some really good times.\u201d She let out a ratcheting cough, all phlegmy and sloppy from deep within her chest, and shook her head. \u201cAll gone now.\u201d<\/p>\n

I knew what she was saying, \u201cyes, all gone now.\u201d<\/p>\n

. . . kuhh <\/i>. . . kuhf, kuhf<\/i> . . .<\/p>\n

Brian, coughing worse than Angela, said, \u201cthat\u2019s right, all gone because a bunch of moron rocket scientists had to screw around with shit they didn\u2019t know anything about.\u201d He smashed another chair.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wish you wouldn\u2019t do that,\u201d I said. \u201cI can\u2019t believe you\u2019re doing that. We made those chairs with our own hands and now you\u2019re destroying them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, wait\u2019ll you see what I\u2019m gonna do next!\u201d He came down off the porch and pulled a burning branch out of the fire.<\/p>\n

I got in his way. \u201cOh no, you\u2019re not!\u201d He tried to push around me but I grabbed him and held him back.<\/p>\n

. . . kuhh <\/i>. . . <\/i><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy\u2019n the fuck not?\u201d he yelled. \u201cWhat the hell difference does it make? It\u2019s all shit anyway.\u201d He coughed and a trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth. \u201cLook at this crap. It\u2019s growing everywhere.\u201d<\/p>\n

He tried to push me backwards up the steps but I had a good foothold and when I pushed back he fell. He came up swinging the firebrand and I jumped back. After his swing I lunged and with a hard chop knocked the branch out of his hand. We rolled around a little but I got the better of him and eventually locked him up.<\/p>\n

. . . kuhh, kuhff<\/i> . . .<\/p>\n

He started crying. Big-ass, hard-ass Brian was weeping. \u201cThis is really fucked up,\u201d he said between coughs. \u201cWhy does this have to be so fucked up?\u201d<\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t blame him; I\u2019ve cried too but I was plumb out of tears at the time. \u201cIt\u2019s fucked up, Bri. But what can we do about it? Time\u2019s up. We\u2019ve had our shot. Game over. Let\u2019s try to take it like men,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

Meanwhile Angela was wrapping a blanket around herself. When most people hear the word desert they think \u2018sheik of the burning sand\u2019 stuff. Our fire was practical as well as whimsical. The high desert gets really cold really fast.<\/p>\n

\u201cHa,\u201d Brian blubbered in my arms. \u201cTake it like men. What about that Angie? You gonna take it like a man?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not going to burn my house down, if that\u2019s what you mean, Brian,\u201d she said. \u201cBesides,\u201d she brushed a lock of her auburn hair back behind her ear, \u201cit was men who made this mess so we\u2019re only getting what we paid for.\u201d<\/p>\n

With an enormous push Brian tried to break my hold on him. I had him pinned though and after several more pushes, which got weaker each time, he ceased his struggle and launched into a hacking fit. One particularly violent cough sprayed my face with sputum and blood. He was still crying after it was over.<\/p>\n

. . . kuhh <\/i>. . . <\/i><\/p>\n

\u201cAre you going to behave?\u201d I asked. \u201cOr am I going to have to sit on you all night?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m all right,\u201d he said. \u201cLet me up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re sure?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I wanna go sit by the fire.\u201d<\/p>\n

I released him and stood up. He lay there until I offered my hand, which he accepted, and helped him up. He started toward the porch. I moved to stop him but he held his hands up and said, \u201cIt\u2019s okay. I just want the sleeping bag.\u201d Which he got and took to arrange a seat over by the fire.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s about when we noticed a vehicle coming down the highway kicking up a cloud of dust. We\u2019re up in the foothills of the Sierra Madres and can see a pretty good stretch of the highway. It was coming from the LA direction.<\/p>\n

\u201cMan, those guys are hauling ass,\u201d Angela said. \u201cThere doesn\u2019t seem to be anyone chasing them.\u201d<\/p>\n

Geez, it was the first vehicle we\u2019d seen in about three months and all she could think of was how fast it was going.<\/p>\n

Brian stopped coughing and watched the steadily approaching vehicle. \u201cWow,\u201d he wiped his mouth. \u201cIt\u2019s about time. Maybe they\u2019ll have some fresh filters.\u201d<\/p>\n

. . . kuhh <\/i>. . . <\/i><\/p>\n

\u201cFat lot of good that will do us now,\u201d said Angela and she started hacking.<\/p>\n

In about ten minutes the vehicle was close enough to see clearly. It was a big black SUV. You know, one of those big-ass SUVs that only rich people and government types can afford. It made the turn into our lane, about half a mile away, and the dust cloud behind it tripled. The lane\u2019s just gravel. We were going to pave it one of these days but never got around to it.<\/p>\n

The thing, a Chevy Suburban, slowed and came through the entrance to our yard. It stopped about twenty feet away from the fire. There was a blue and white government license plate on the front. Two people wearing environment suits got out. One was taller and heavier, carriage masculine and the smaller was probably a woman. They held their empty hands out wide and I motioned them over.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe saw your fire,\u201d said the man as he approached. He stopped, held out his arm and stopped his companion. \u201cHow long have you been exposed?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cOur last filter gave out this morning,\u201d I said. \u201cWe\u2019ve decided to make a fire and watch the sunset. We\u2019re okay otherwise.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSome people get a little crazy,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

. . . kuhh <\/i>. . . kuhf, kuhf<\/i> . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re just into watching the sunset,\u201d I replied. I motioned toward the house. \u201cTake anything you want.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks,\u201d he said, \u201cwe could use a little fresh water.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s in there\u2014fresh spring water filtered by about a million tons of earth.\u201d<\/p>\n

They began to approach again but I could see they were still a little wary. \u201cThank you. We\u2019ll take you up on it,\u201d the woman said. \u201cWe have some drugs that will make you comfortable, if you like.\u201d<\/p>\n

Angela looked up from the fire. \u201cYeah, what do you have?\u201d She coughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe have some liquid Delauden. It\u2019s a synthetic opiate and works really well to relieve pain,\u201d the woman said.<\/p>\n

Brian and Angela both said they\u2019d take some. I said no; I want to be awake as long as possible. Heh, somebody has to tell you what happened, huh?<\/p>\n

The man went back to the Suburban. The woman said, \u201cmy name is Naomi. Naomi Fairchild. My friend is Timothy Welkin. We\u2019re on our way up to Sandman labs.\u201d<\/p>\n

Something about those names was clanging around in my head. \u201cI\u2019m Bill Smith, that\u2019s my brother Brian and my wife, Angela,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe saw your fire,\u201d she said. Brian started hacking again and left some more blood on his hand as he wiped his mouth. \u201cYou guys aren\u2019t doing too good, are you?\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo shit, lady,\u201d Brian said. He suddenly looked up at her. \u201cDid you say Naomi Fairchild? Timothy Welkin?\u201d<\/p>\n

. . . kuhh <\/i>. . . kuhh<\/i> . . .<\/p>\n

She backed up a step. \u201cYes . . . unfortunately.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHoly shit! Hey bro, you know who these people are?\u201d he said. \u201cThese are the rocket morons that created the puffballs! She\u2019s the fungus lady!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I got that,\u201d I said. He was right. Drs. Fairchild and Welkin were the genetic researchers who, after mapping and decoding the puffball fungus genome, for which they won the Nobel Prize by the way, used recombinant RNA to \u201cimprove\u201d it. They improved it all right.<\/p>\n

Welkin was on his way back from the Suburban with a small bottle in his hand. \u201cHere,\u201d he said, \u201ctake a couple sips of this. You\u2019ll feel better.\u201d<\/p>\n

Brian got up from the ground and went over to the suited couple.<\/p>\n

. . . kuhh <\/i>. . . kuhf, kuhf<\/i> . . .<\/p>\n

Welkin hesitantly handed him the bottle, \u201ctake it, it\u2019s yours.\u201d Brian uncapped it and took a swig. \u201cNot too much,\u201d Welkin cautioned.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, yeah,\u201d Brian said and he walked over and handed the bottle to Angela who also took a good slug. She passed it toward me but I waved it off. She sealed it and put it down on the ground. Brian started walking toward the house. His cough had seemed to ease a little, that stuff worked fast. I was glad, he was having a rough time of it. We all were.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you going?\u201d I asked him.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust inside,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t have to bird dog you, do I?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I\u2019ll be good, Mommy.\u201d<\/p>\n

He went up the steps and into the house. I didn\u2019t try to stop him. I turned to our guests. \u201cThanks for that,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

The woman said, \u201cwe haven\u2019t seen anyone since we left LA. How did you folks survive for so long?\u201d<\/p>\n

. . . kuhh <\/i>. . . kuhh<\/i><\/p>\n

I ratcheted a little and spit out a gob of black looking mucous. \u201cIt\u2019s been rough. We\u2019ve been living inside that house, all sealed off and all, for close to ten months. When all this started we stocked up\u2014as much as we could anyway\u2014because, of course, everyone else was doing it too. We had a leg up, though. This place was built over a fallout shelter so there was plenty of food and there was already a filtration system in place. We didn\u2019t think it would get this bad, you know. Just figured you scientist types would figure the thing out and we\u2019d be all right if we could just hang on.\u201d<\/p>\n

Angela put her hat on, the pushed out cowboy hat with the feathers sticking out of the headband on the right side. With the blanket and all she looked like some Indian squaw. She started rocking back and forth. \u201cJust what did you people think you were doing?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

Welkin put his hand up to his head. \u201cJesus Christ, don\u2019t you think we\u2019ve asked ourselves that about a million times? We\u2019ve killed the world. The stupendous, incalculable enormity of that is more than we can bear. How do you think we feel?\u201d<\/p>\n

. . . kuhh <\/i>. . . kuhf, kuhf<\/i> . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you think we feel?\u201d Angela shot back at him, punctuating it with a rasping, spasmodic cough. \u201cWhy in hell haven\u2019t you fallen on your sword yet?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause,\u201d said Dr. Fairchild, \u201cwe are mankind\u2019s\u2014no\u2014the world\u2019s only hope. We\u2019re the only ones who know exactly what we\u2019ve done and the only ones who have any chance to undo it. In spite of the overwhelming guilt, and believe me, I\u2019ve wanted to end it all so many times, in spite of the guilt we had to go on, had to find the answer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat answer,\u201d I said, \u201ceverything\u2019s dead.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot everything,\u201d said Welkin. \u201cSouth America, Africa, Australia, Indonesia, a lot of places are still uninfected.\u201d<\/p>\n

. . . kuhh, kuhf<\/i> . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cSo why didn\u2019t someone come and get us out of here?\u201d Angela said.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe risk of contamination was too great,\u201d Welkin said. \u201cThe entire North American continent, as well as most of Europe and a good part of Asia is covered with the spores.\u201d<\/p>\n

I\u2019d known it was bad. After the first three months the satellite stations were dropping off two and three at a time. It wasn\u2019t long before there was nothing but fuzz on the set. \u201cThe way this stuff grows, Doc, it\u2019s just a matter of time before the whole planet becomes a big, giant puffball!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUp until last night I would have agreed with you. Naomi did it. She found an aerial transmitted virus that attacks the fungus genetically and should, according to the projections, completely destroy the fungus worldwide in about three months.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou mean . . .\u201d Angela trailed off .<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d Fairchild said, \u201cit\u2019s finally over.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOver for you,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

Welkin took Fairchild by the hand. His head wagged slowly from side to side. \u201cWe\u2019re so sorry,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

. . . kuhh <\/i>. . . kuhf, kuhf<\/i> . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cNot sorry enough, you bastards,\u201d said Brian from the porch.<\/p>\n

I turned in time to see Brian unload his Remington semiautomatic 12 gauge shotgun into our two guests. Christ. Nobody said anything. After a while Brian dropped the shotgun, walked over to his place by the fire and sat down. He motioned to Angela who . . . kuhh <\/i>. . . <\/i>unscrewed the lid off the bottle of Delauden, took a swig and handed it over.<\/p>\n

For some reason I don\u2019t remember being all that horrified by all the grisly blood and gore. He hit the woman square in the faceplate and blew Welkin\u2019s left arm completely off, among other things. It\u2019s like I wasn\u2019t even in my own body, like I was watching it all in some movie or something.<\/p>\n

I mean this whole trip has simply . . . kuhh <\/i>. . . <\/i>blown my mind\u2014to use an antique idiom. It\u2019s appropriate, I think. I mean, you start out thinking everything will be all right. It might be hard right now at the moment but sooner or later it\u2019s going to be all right. You try to keep your spirits up in spite of the difficulties. That\u2019s what we do, that\u2019s what we are. You hope . . . kuhh <\/i>. . . <\/i>and pray and do all that dancing around and, when everything does work out, well, chalk it up to a benevolent God or some such.<\/p>\n

But things don\u2019t always work out. Sometimes things just keep getting worse and worse. How can you keep up? I\u2019ve tried to be positive about all this but I just keep getting the ass. When Brian blew that lady\u2019s head off I thought, well, that\u2019s just about right, right? When it rains it pains.<\/p>\n

So now I\u2019m watching the sunset over the high desert. The sun\u2019s completely gone now, only a red-orange nimbus bleeding all over . . . kuhh <\/i>. . . kuhf<\/i> . . . the distant stringy ass clouds out at the horizon. It\u2019s kind of beautiful in a way, you know. Even though everything\u2019s covered with puffballs smoking out their endless clouds of spores.<\/p>\n

The firelight flickers over Brian\u2019s face; it shows multiple angles of the pain he\u2019s suffered. There\u2019s a little blood dripping off his chin and the growth on his cheek is starting to look more and more like a patch of puffballs. At least he\u2019s finally stopped . . . kuhh <\/i>. . . <\/i>coughing. Angela\u2019s not rocking anymore, just sort of slumped over. She\u2019s not coughing anymore, either.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m still coughing, though. Didn\u2019t think it would end like this. Thought we\u2019d get out of it like we always seem to do. If we could only hold out long enough. I think I\u2019ll have a swig of that stuff. Then I think I\u2019ll burn the fucking house down.<\/p>\n

. . . kuhh <\/i>. . . kuhh<\/i> . . . kuhfff<\/i> . . .<\/p>\n

\n

Copyright \u00a9 2014 H. Robert Schumacher, Jr.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This is a story about hope . . . and despair. Evening\u2019s coming on and it\u2019s so nice to be out here. It\u2019s been so long . . . kuhh . . . since I\u2019ve felt the evening breeze on my skin. I can see dust devils dancing down at the end of the arroyo … Continue reading Twilight by Firelight<\/span> →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":282,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-309","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/chitlinchildren.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/309","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/chitlinchildren.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/chitlinchildren.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/chitlinchildren.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/chitlinchildren.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=309"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/chitlinchildren.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/309\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":312,"href":"http:\/\/chitlinchildren.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/309\/revisions\/312"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/chitlinchildren.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/282"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/chitlinchildren.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=309"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}