What Comes After

June 12

The nightmares are getting worse. I was plunged into the same scenario, fog surrounding me as my feet sunk into the sand. But this time it was different.

I saw a small shadow pass overhead and the shriek of a seagull. And then the bodies appeared from the mist, five of them lying on the ground, seafoam swirling around their clothes and hair. A seagull landed on one of them, picking out a small chunk of flesh before flying away.

I'm not sure why, but I began to walk towards the collection of bodies. There was a torn piece of purple cloth floating on the turquoise sea. I tried grabbing it, but the waves carried it into the mist, and I stumbled forwards.

That's when I saw it. Mom in her floral dress, Dad with his clunky glasses and striped shirts, May with her oversized sweatshirt, Mira with her conch necklace, and Charles with his thick sunglasses just lying there rotting away. Their bodies were covered in green slime, scraps of kelp dotting cloth, barnacles clinging to skin with stark white ribs sticking out from their bodies.

I gasped, bringing my hands to my face only to discover that I had become green and slimy, and I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the sea. I had become one of them.

A seagull swooped down picking a bit of flesh from my shoulder and I scampered away, tumbling in the wet sand. More and more and more crowded me, pushing me into the ocean. I suddenly woke up sweaty and sore.

Mom went out into the garden to try to grow the plants that we bought from the nursery. Her parents were farmers, but I think that their green thumbs may have skipped a generation. I think this is the first time that I've ever seen her in a garden.

She also ordered Mira and May to wash the laundry since our dirty laundry was piling up in the hamper and no one seemed to want to clean it. Mira and May said that it was sexist. I agreed with them, but I didn't want to do the laundry, so I just stayed quiet. Unfortunately, that didn't stop me from being dragged into chores. Mom made me wash and dry the dishes. She could be really bossy sometimes.

Dad took the van and went into town today to see if anything was even open. Mom reminded him to gas up the car. I think gasoline prices would start reaching the high twenties per gallon. California doesn't produce much oil, so we'd have to take it from Texas or some other state and that'd be pretty costly.

When he came back, everyone started to ask him questions. Even though we went to town yesterday, we didn't get to see much around it. "Is anything open?" Mom asked.

"Nothing much," Dad said. "Just some clothing stores and school supply stuff."

"What about gas?" Mom asked.

"It's around twenty to thirty dollars per gallon," Dad said. "And they only accept cash. We've only got one-hundred dollars in cash left and I checked the ATM machines. They're not working."

"Then we don't use gas," Mom said. "No more taking the car out to places, and it's only for emergencies."

"What clothing stores?" May asked, jumping into the conversation.

"Just some old thrift shops. Nothing you'll like," Dad said.

"Well, I need a new outfit. Clara's birthday party is tomorrow," May replied.

"You're not going to someone's birthday party. It's dangerous."

"It's literally two blocks down," May said. "I'm not going to get abducted or whatever."

"Let May have a break," Mom said. "She's been working all day."

She then turned to May. "No new outfit though. And you're going to have to bike there with your brother."

'What?" I said. "I don't want to go to her party."

"Exactly," May said. "I can take care of myself."

"With gasoline running out, the police might not be able to protect us anymore," Mom said. "So two people biking down a street when it's getting dark is much safer than one person by themselves."

"Or we'll both get abducted," May muttered. "A two for one deal."

"Why can't Mira take her instead?" I asked.

"Mira is going to help me with the garden tomorrow," Mom said.

"Neal can go help you with the garden," May replied.

"I don't want to work in the garden," I said.

"Then you're going to take May to her party," she said.

"Fine, whatever."

"See," Mom said. "All problems solved."

I don't think anyone was too happy about this arrangement. But no one wanted to argue with the delicate peace Mom wove, so everyone went to their own rooms to go to sleep after eating some lukewarm string beans and rice.

June 13

Mom pulled out an old SAT book and said that if I didn't want to get a summer job, I should at least start practicing for the standardized testing. So I wasted my whole morning studying grammar and reading techniques. Boring!

I managed to find the hand-cranked radio. I totally forgot about it. I gave it a few cranks and tried to find a radio station to listen to, but it was mostly static. All the local music stations had gone radio silent (literally), so I decided to hear the news stations.

There were only two of them. The government one kept listing out names. "Sam Hunter, Alicia Xiao, Arnav Gupta..." they droned on and on. I think it's the list of the dead or missing. I wondered if the person on the beach was on it, but I didn't want to know, so I changed to the other station.

The other new station was extremely faint. The staticky murmur of the radio overpowered the voice, but you could hear a faint, deep voice speaking. Unfortunately, I was only able to hear fragments of the radio since the static grew and dimmed throughout the morning.

There was some news about NYC. I think that it's uninhabitable or at least some sort of it. Lawmakers in D.C have passed emergency relief bills for all the coastal states, but no one is sure what to do afterwards. Some people want to build sea walls to protect the seaside communities. Others want to do a managed retreat. Climate change is also a concern since sea levels are just going to keep rising. Especially with California since people are worried that there will be saltwater intrusion in the Central Valley.

Grandma and Grandpa came to our house today. I think they walked over here since Mom is trying to save gasoline. They spent a lot of time in the garden with Mom and Mira to try to fix up all the plants that we bought. Our soil is of pretty terrible quality. There's a corner in our garden where the soil is dark and rich, but the rest is dry and cracked. Dad had to take out the large shovel and try to bash the soil to soften it. I'm not sure if it worked.

In the afternoon, I had to take May to her birthday party.

"How much longer are you going to take?" I asked when she was still getting ready.

"Literally don't rush me," she said. "Otherwise you're going to mess up my hair."

"You know if you use the hair curler, then everyone will know that we have electricity."

"No one cares if we have electricity or not. I'm pretty sure that everyone has generators or solar panels."

"Just hurry up already."

"Give me five more minutes and I'll be down, okay?"

It took at least ten minutes before May actually came downstairs. "Bike or walk?" I asked her.

"Walk," she said. "Biking will mess up my hair."

"Okay. Whatever you want," I said.

We walked down the street to her friend's house. It was around the middle of the afternoon, so the sun was beating down on us. If we had biked there, it would've been a lot faster, and we wouldn't be all sweaty.

"I'm not staying at your party," I said. "That's just going to be really awkward for everyone."

"Good," she replied.

"Remember," I said. "No drugs, no smoking, no alcohol. Other than that, do whatever you want. When the sun sets, I'll be back at this house."

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To Charles' house," I replied.

"Okay," she said.

I walked a couple of steps before yelling back, "Bring me some cake!"

I didn't think she heard me, or she did and chose to ignore me. I walked a couple blocks down to his house. I hoped he was free this afternoon. Everything seems so boring with power being out, so there's literally nothing to do. Plus, I finished all my library books, but I can't go back because Mira will find out about the computer things and she'll either get sad or angry at me.

I knocked at the door of their house. There was a lot of shuffling in the house and some muffled yelling before the lock opened and Charles walked out. He looked tired.

"Is this a bad time?" I asked.

"No, no," he said. "We were just sorting some stuff inside. You want to take a walk around the neighborhood?"

"Sure," I replied, and he yelled at his parents that he'll be back soon, and we began walking along the sidewalk.

"Do you want to talk about, you know..." I said.

"The dead body," he said.

"Yeah, that."

"What's there to talk about?"

"Well, I've been dr—" I said, but then I stopped. I wanted to tell him about the nightmares, the dead bodies littering my dreams, but I couldn't. I don't know why. I guess I was just afraid of being judged or being vulnerable.

"You've been, what?" he asked.

"Oh, you know what," I said. "Never mind. I just never imagined that this would happen to our town."

"Yeah," he said. "I'm never getting into the ocean again."

He wanted to play it off like a joke, but there was a hint of something in his eyes. Sadness, maybe even a bit of fear. I think he was just as affected about the body as I was.

"So what are you doing this summer?" I asked, trying to change the subject that I brought up.

"Nothing much," he replied sheepishly.

"I thought you had the internship stuff going on."

"Well, with all of this stuff going on, and the power being out for basically all of California, I guess there's no opportunity to really, you know, intern. I'm thinking of getting a summer job."

"Tell me about it if you get one. My parents have been bugging me about getting one since forever."

"Why would I want to spend all day working with my friend?" he asked rhetorically.

"Well, you know, I'll entertain you while you're slogging through work as your soul slowly gets crushed."

"Tell me a joke."

"Like, any joke," I replied.

"Yeah," he said.

"What type of cow has no legs?"

"Ground beef," he said. "I've heard this joke a thousand times in elementary school."

"Remember the good old days of elementary school, where we colored pictures and did nothing."

"Don't forget all the creative stories that we had to write."

"Or the 'essays' that our teachers graded. Those were the good times," I said.

"We sound like two old men reminiscing about the past."

"Elementary school felt like forever ago."

I picked up May afterwards. She said that she had a good time there even though there wasn't any cake. But I wasn't really thinking about whatever she was talking about.

What he said resonated with me. Is the world going to change so much that we'll be reminiscing about the days of electricity or hot water? I hope not.