What Comes After

Mira and I ran into the nursery. It was pretty devoid of people, though there were people speeding through rows of shelves, piling all kinds of random plants into their cart as fast as possible. The whole air was humid and there were plants dangling from hanging pots, lush and green. Blossoms overflowed from flowerpots and small butterflies flitted from flower to flower. "It's pretty nice in here," Mira said, her breath heavy from all the running that we were doing.

"Mostly nice and quiet," I said. "It's chaos everywhere else."

"Yeah," she said. "What should we get?"

"How much cash did Mom give us?"

"About five hundred bucks," she said. "More than enough."

We grabbed a cart and roamed the aisles, walking quickly to make sure we got everything before other people took it. We stopped next to a rack of tomato plants that only had a couple of flats in them.

"Tomatoes?" I said. "But May hates them."

"The end of the world is no time for us to be picky," she said and plopped all the flats of tomatoes and eggplants into the cart.

"Eggplants? They're pretty gross," I said.

"Same thing for you. No more picky eating," she said. I put two flats of zucchini and a flat of cucumber into the cart, but then I decided to add five more of each. More food is better, and our car had a lot of space since the cans were in the van. Mira came back and dumped onion and garlic flats into the cart while I picked up a couple of bell pepper and strawberries flats.

"We should grab some seeds," I said. "Just in case these plants don't make it."

"Good thinking ahead," Mira said. "I'll grab a couple of packets. The cart's pretty full. You can probably start heading for checkout."

She ran and disappeared behind a column of plants and ivies. I pushed the cart slowly towards the checkout and paused to grab a couple of pots of fresh herbs. Canned food is probably going to suck. Hopefully some fresh basil or thyme can make things better. I went to the checkout line, but I had to wait because Mira had all the money. "What are all these for?" the checkout guy said.

He was pretty young, probably a bit older than me and in college, with brownish hair and bluish eyes and looked pretty bored but nervous. He kept looking down at his watch, probably checking the time till he could leave, even though his manager seemed to be nowhere. "Summer gardening," I lied.

I knew that everyone else was panic buying, but I still felt a bit guilty about it, and I guess I was worried that I'd be judged for it. The radio kept talking about how we were supposed to remain calm and stay at home and not hoard, and I felt bad for breaking this rule, even if it was just a recommendation.

He nodded skeptically before turning to me. "Is it really as bad as the radio is saying? I've been stuck here all morning, but I've heard that stores are burning down and being looted and that all the beachfront houses are gone."

"Yeah," I said. "It's bad."

"Have you seen my manager?" he asked. "Tall, grayish-blond hair."

"I think he left."

"Oh," he said and sat back down before standing up and pacing. There was no one else in the nursery anymore, so we just awkwardly waited, no one saying a word until Mira came. She paid for the flats, and we left the store. "Good luck with the garden," the guy said and flashed a nice smile before hanging up his employee apron and grabbing his car keys. "Thanks for shopping here."

We went to the car. Mom was already there. She had a bunch of sweaters in her arm and was trying to dump them into the front of the car. May was next to her fuming. "It's the end of the world," she said. "Might as well buy actual good clothes, not whatever these are."

"We're not wasting money on expensive clothing," Mom said. "Even if it's the end of the world."

"I thought you didn't think the world is ending," I said to May.

"Well. I've changed my mind," she said.

"Okay," I said. "Whatever you say."

"Hey, Mira," Mom said. "Can you go to the convenience store to get some matches and batteries and whatever you want."

"Sure," she said and left for the small corner store.

Mom looked at the car and sighed. "How are we going to fit everything in here?"

Fitting everything in the car was a nightmare. The middle seat was taken up by the mountain of sweaters and socks and shirts and all the other pieces of clothing. Mom dumped some of the shirts and socks on the floor of the car. "Please don't step on them," Mom said.

"We're going to wash them, so it doesn't even matter," May said. "And also, they're cheap, so it's not like it matters if we ruin some of them."

"Well, it should matter," Mom said and muttered under her breath. "Spoiled kids."

"Hey," I said. "I'm not complaining."

The plants were a complete mess. Mom tried to fit them side by side in the trunk, but it was pretty clear that there wasn't enough space, so we had to stack them on top of each other. Mom accidentally knocked a whole flat of vegetables down, and dirt scattered across the floor of our trunk. Mom inhaled sharply. "When this ends, this car is going to need a car wash."

Mira came back with bags filled with batteries and matches. She even got some candy because we were all tired and could use an energy boost. "Getting these things was embarrassing," Mira said when she reached the car. "The lady at the counter thought I was a smoker or something. She was giving me some serious side-eye."

"Maybe 'cause you're actually a smoker," May muttered, even though as far as I know, Mira's never touched a cigarette in her life.

Mom grabbed the bags and stuffed them in the pockets behind the seats. "You can't get through life without being embarrassed a little," she said.

"Woah," May said sarcastically. "Look at Mom's super wise wisdom. I can't handle it."

"Thank you," Mom said. "Get in the car. We're leaving."

That was when I thought of something. Power is going to be an issue, so what if we generate our own power to supplement our loss. "Mom?" I said.

"Yes," she said.

"Can we go and buy something else?"

"We don't have any more space," she said. "So it better be important."

"I was thinking about solar panels."

"Go on," she said. 'That sounds like a good plan."

"I think that we can buy solar panels at camping stores. Most people aren't going to be there because everyone's so focused on food and water, and we've got one on the way to our house."

"And how do you know this?" May asked.

"I may or may not have been obsessed with zombie apocalypse books and done a little side research," I said.

"God, you're weird," May said.

"Not as weird as you."

"Says the weirdo."

"You guys aren't five-year-olds, so don't act like them," Mom said. "That's a great idea. The camping store has lanterns too and other supplies probably."

"There's no space back here," May said. "I've got barely enough room for my legs."

"We'll make space," Mom said. "Or I'll kick someone out of the car."

There was a moment of silence after that. "That was a joke," Mom said.

"Not funny Mom," I said. "Not funny."

"Kids these days, so hard to please," she muttered and turned into the parking lot.

We stopped at the camping store. The parking lot was somewhat full, but that's because there was another brawl at the supermarket next door. Mom and Mira went into the camping store while May and I stayed in the car because it was safer. "Should we get more food?" I asked Mom before she and Mira left.

"No," Mom said. "There's a good chance that most of the supermarket is empty, and it'll be dangerous. Just wait in the car, and we'll be back soon."

"Okay," I said and stared out of the window. Looking at the sun, you'd think that it was a normal pre-summer day, but if you took a deeper glance, you could see the soft outline of the Moon in the background. Everything seemed to change last night, and nothing feels like it would change back for a long time.

Mom and Mira came back carrying two solar panels cases and a crate of lanterns and miscellaneous items. "Were there more?" I asked.

"Yeah," Mira said. "But they're limiting the amount each person can buy to two only."

She grabbed a lantern. "But we were free to buy as many lanterns as we wanted to, and these solar phone chargers weren't completely restricted, so I got a whole bunch of them."

"What are we going to do with— How many of them are there? Five? Six? Seven?" I said.

'We'll figure it out," Mira said. "Better safe than sorry."

"True. True," I said. "The big question is how are we going to fit in the car."

May and I were forced to sit together on one seat. The seat belt would fit around the both of us, but I was sitting by the door while May sat closer to the center, so if we got into a crash, I'd crash into the seat in front of me while May would fly out of the front window. "If I die," May said. "I'm going to come back and haunt you guys forever."

"Whatever you say," I said, and May shot me a quick glare.

"Don't worry, we're driving slow," Mom said.

We drove slowly and cautiously. Some of the traffic lights weren't working, so everyone had to take turns. It felt like a solid half an hour before we reached home. It took us even longer to unpack everything. Cans kept spilling out of the trunk and some of the flats spilled over and dumped dirt in the car.

When we came back home, Dad had finished dumping all the cans into random cardboard boxes that were laid in our garage. Everyone was so tired today that we didn't bother to sort out the cans. That was a problem for later. All we did was take out the flats that had spilled soil everywhere in the trunk and tried filling the soil back in.

There was no dinner today. Mom went to sleep early, and Mira and May soon followed. We still had to go to school tomorrow, which was unfortunate, but Mom was insistent on that. "No skipping school, ever," she said.

"School might not be open tomorrow," May retorted.

"Well, you two are still going to get dressed for school," Mom said. "It's good to have some normalcy in your lives."

Before I went to sleep, I went up to Dad's office. He was probably working on something important. "Is our house safe?" I asked.

Dad turned towards me in his swivel chair.

"It will be safe," Dad said. "We're more than thirty feet above the sea level and the tides are not going to rise higher than that."

"But what about storms or full moon high tides or—"

"Everything's going to be fine," Dad said.

"But you were so worried about the tides this morning and—"

"Of course I'm worried, but that was before," he said. "We've got food and medicine now. We're better prepared and ready if things go bad."

"What I saw on the beach... The things that I saw on the beach were things of nightmares. I can see the images replaying in my head over and over again. It's why I was so shaken up in the morning," he continued. "But we've got things under control right now, well the best control we could possibly have, and all we need to do now is to wait and hope things get better and if they don't, we have a backup plan."

"Okay," I said. I didn't fully understand what he meant, but I think I understood the point of his ramble. Actually, thinking about it, I don't really understand it at all, but I get the spirit of his answer, lodged somewhere in between hope and fear.