What Comes After

June 10

No nightmare last night. I'm worried about tonight.

Mom and Dad are officially jobless right now. They're calling it their early retirement to spend more time with their kids. May says Mom and Dad have to keep working, so she can buy clothes from expensive brands. I want them at work to have some free time. "Neal, you need to find some summer job," Dad said. "Colleges are looking for people who spend their summers productively."

"Same with you, May," he said. "You better get working."

"It's not like I can do anything," she said. "I'm literally fourteen. Don't you have to be like sixteen to get an actual job."

"Just find something," he said.

"Yeah, whatever," she said.

"Sure," I said.

"Neal," he said. "I really mean it. College is coming soon—"

"College is literally in two years," I said. "Not like there is any college to go to. Didn't you hear, the world's ending."

"The world is going to get better."

"No, Dad," I said. "After what you saw that night, you actually think everything's going to be alright."

"Yes, I do."

"You're delusional. Like, actually delusional."

"Don't talk to me like that. Show a bit more respect!"

"Yeah, I'll totally look for a job, alright," I said and headed to my room.

"You better or you'll be in big trouble."

"Yeah, whatever. It's not like you can take my internet away cause guess what, we don't have power and we'll probably never get it back."

The power then flickered on. "Power!" May shouted. "Took the world long enough."

Everyone moved into action, and no one kept on bickering. Mom and Mira tossed the dirty clothes hanging in the laundry basket into the washer, May turned on the vacuum cleaner to start cleaning up the dirty floor, and Dad went out to check if the power was on for the whole neighborhood.

I opened up one of the cabinets and found one of those old ice dishes. I poured some water from the sink into the ice cube mold, though there was a small spill, and dumped it in the freezer. Then I tried the TV, but nothing. I logged onto my computer and tried the internet. Nothing. I guess the internet servers ran out of power and just died.

The power faded away a couple of hours later. May poured some of the powdered lemonade mixture into a pitcher and added water. I took out the ice cubes and dumped them into everyone's glasses. They were half-frozen only, but it'll be a nice reprieve against the heat.

I miss the AC.

June 11

We went together to the food handout drive near city hall. There were armed police officers standing around and guarding the line. After what happened last week, I guess the city invested more in armed protection. We had to bring our proof of residence form too because people from other towns might start coming to our town to take our food.

"Remember to stick together," Mom said. "If anything starts to go bad, we're going to leave immediately, so I need everyone to stay close to each other."

"Where has Dad gone to?" I asked.

"He went to the post office to send a letter to Auntie," Mira said.

"But there's no gasoline or anything. How is that supposed to work?"

"Just let your father do what he believes is best," Mom said. "Having some hope will be good for him."

I didn't think my aunt and her family are in any danger. They live around Central Texas, which is far away from water. I wondered if they still have power since Texas is full of oil drills and refineries. I wished the internet still worked, so I could look that up.

"What about Grandma and Grandpa?" I asked.

"Their senior shelter has backup generators and free food, and the government is keeping a close eye on them, so they're all set," Mom said.

"Why can't we all just live there?" I asked.

"Because it's for old people, dummy," May said.

"I'm old," I said. "Older than you."

May stayed silent. "Yeah," I said. "That's what I thought. No response."

"Hey," Mira said. "I'm older than both of you guys. I should get first priority in the senior center."

"Shh," I said. "I'm going to pretend that you don't exist."

"Okay," Mira said. "I'm a ghost now."

We all laughed and then focused back onto waiting in the line.

The sun was climbing up the sky and scorching us with its rays. It was probably over ninety degrees. Most of the time, the weather in early June is mildly warm, but this time around, I could feel the pre-summer heat roasting me alive. This is why we need to stop climate change (and yes, I know the difference between climate and weather).

There were people passing out small paper cups of water. "It's so hot," Mira said.

"Suck it up," I said. "Isn't that what you tell everyone?"

"Yeah, whatever," she replied.

"Why don't you and May go sit in the shade," Mira said. "Mom and I will wait in line."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Go for it," she said. "I don't want my little brother to die from heatstroke."

I felt bad, but it was hot, so I took her offer. May and I sat under one of those redwood trees that dot the park near the city hall. Wasps flitted across rusting fields of grass, and the line stretched out for longer and longer.

"I'm bored," I said.

"Aren't we all?" she said. "My brain is literally going to explode because it's so hot right now."

"How close are we even to getting the food?"

"We're over here," she said and pointed to the middle of the line. "And that's where you actually get your food." She pointed far away from where Mom and Mira were standing.

"So we're going to be stuck here for the rest of the day," I said.

"Basically."

I sighed. "We should do something."

"What?"

"Anything," I said. "I don't know."

"There's literally nothing to do."

"Is this what the apocalypse is going to be like?"

"I guess so."

We sat in the shade for the rest of the afternoon, watching people trickling into the building and walking out with some bags of food. After what felt like forever, Mira finally called us to wait in line since they were almost at the front. When we entered, there was a metal detector and armed guards doing pat-downs. I'm not sure how they're powering the metal detectors. Solar panels perhaps?

We had to submit all our paperwork for review. Dad wasn't here with us, and Mom wanted us to get a bag of food for him, so it took a lot longer. Finally, after waiting at the desk forever, we got a bag of food and were escorted out of the building. As soon as we left, May opened her bag to see what she got.

"Spam?" she said. "That's disgusting. What if I was a vegetarian?"

"May. Close your bag. We don't want to attract any attention," Mira said.

"Yes mother," May said sarcastically. "Anything else you want me to do."

"Show a little more respect for your older sister," Mom said.

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

"Do we actually have to eat the spam though?" I asked.

"Yes," Mom replied. "We're going to eat everything."

"But I just hate the idea of eating canned meat."

"We're just going to have to deal with it," Mira said.

"But the world's not actually going to end," May said. "Everything will get back to normal."

"We have to be prepared," Mom and Mira said at the same time and they smiled at each other.

I don't know why, but this made me feel good because even when the world is decaying around up, washing into the ocean, Mom and Mira are talking to each other more. I wish that Dad would just get along.

Dad met us at home and asked how everything went, and we told him that nothing special or particularly exciting happened and that we were going next week to grab our food. May and I grabbed out the canned foods from our bags. My bag had mixed vegetables, beets, and carrots. Gross.

May and Mira had better luck with their canned foods. They got canned corn and string beans (but still got gross stuff like tuna and spam). I asked if I could trade my can of pineapple for their string beans and corn, but Dad broke up our bartering and said that we were going to share everything and told me to put our canned goods into our pantry. The joys of communism...

This was the first time I looked into the pantry since the day after. It was fuller than I expected. The shelves were bursting with cans and with the plants in the garden and solar panels, I think we're prepared for anything.