Tag Archives: fiction

In the Twilight

13 Nov

from November 18, 2009

           As I walked through the grounds I stopped once or twice to kick at the dirt. It had only been a few weeks but the change of seasons had hit hard. Green grass was gone, replaced by brown hard earth and brittle dead leaves. The trees were near-dead skeletons and the stones loomed cold and gray.

           Black, I thought. This isn’t supposed to show the dirt. But the length of the black trench coat was spotted along the bottom hem with dots and splatters of brown sod and grayish-black mud.

            I eventually made it back to the car, right where I left it by the main road. It was also splattered with dirt. “Hmm.”

            There was no one around this time of day. The sun was setting. It was cold and getting dark and this wasn’t the friendliest place at night. Not that it was any better during the day, but at least you wouldn’t accidentally trip over a dead branch or a broken stone.

            Won’t be back for awhile. Damn.

            I took off the trench coat and tossed it in the back. Coats that long just get in the way when you drive. So I started the car, didn’t turn on the radio, and drove out. The road was also dirt, and unmarked and unlit. Figures.

            Eventually I made it out (after a wrong turn or two) and drove onto the county road toward town. Now I turned on the radio. The news was on, just missed sports and traffic was next so I changed the station to some music I couldn’t identify and finally just turned the radio off again. “Shit.”

            The road lights were few and far between but the road was straight and empty. A truck loaded with logs rumbled past going the other way and I had to pull over to allow a van full of old folks to speed ahead of me. Why are they in such a hurry?

            The glow ahead grew bright and the town loomed out of the darkness. The mountains rise behind the town and cast a shadow so approached from this direction, even at twilight, the town usually seemed to be in darkness, so the lights were bright and usually on at even at midday.

            Well, I wasn’t in a hurry and entered town from the west, passed by one of the town’s only two stoplights, and parked in the diner’s tiny lot. The senior citizen van was already parked three spots over, close to the door. I got out. It was chilly but I left the trench coat in the car. I didn’t want to carry that dirt into the restaurant. I had some on my shoes but I did my best to brush it off.

            Millie was behind the counter. She waved. I waved back and sat in another section, across the diner and away from the old folks. The other waitress brought me coffee, as usual, and I didn’t drink it, as usual. I ordered some eggs.

            While I waited I walked over to the counter and took the top paper off the pile. It was the morning edition but it was the local paper and nothing ever changes there and so I read it anyway. Sixteen pages. The antics of the mayor. High school sports. Local gossip. (Millie was in the column, sixth paragraph.) Pages and pages of ads for the two grocery stores, the bookstore, Jenny’s Laundromat, and even a half-page of personal ads.

            I read it cover to cover over my eggs.

            I’m not sure how long I was in the diner. I only wore my watch when I went out of town, not often, and I had nowhere to go. Eventually the old folks left, my eggs were eaten, and Millie was wiping the counters and trying to start a conversation with me, hoping to explain how the gossip column was wrong.

            “It’s OK Millie. I didn’t bother to read it,” I lied. I left a tip and went out to my car.

            The lot was now empty and most of the few stores on main street were closed or closing. Only Jenny’s Laundromat was open (All-Nite! said the sign.) and I headed over to drop off the trench coat. Jenny really did run the Laundromat and she always wore her “Hi! My name is Jenny!” name tag, even though everyone knew her and the only other employee was a black man named Lorenzo.

            Jenny wanted to talk to everyone and I waited until she had a phone call so I could drop off the coat, get my ticket, and leave while her voice was being used elsewhere. Jenny.

            I really didn’t want to go home. Other than to sleep there was no reason to. But there was nothing to do in town (besides talking with Jenny) so I went home.

            The TV was off and I kept it that way.

            I tracked in some of the dirt. Shouldn’t I have walked it off by now?

            For some reason it was hot inside even though I never use the heat and I opened some windows and a nice cool breeze came in. I didn’t mind the cold, I slept under a heavy quilt. I put away some things I had left around and eventually fell asleep. I know I had some dreams but I don’t want to remember them.

            The next day was Saturday. I put on my jeans and sneakers, found an old NYPD sweatshirt and just got in my car and drove.

            I took my watch.

TO BE CONTINUED

Tags: , , , , ,

2068- The End

11 Nov

from January 21, 2007

October 31st, 2067

I don’t know why I do it anymore. Nobody comes up here anyway, and I really may be the only man who even remembers Halloween around here. But I still put the decorations up- that skeleton on the door (and how hard it is to keep it from ripping year after year. It is almost impossible to find a simple decoration these days), the pumpkin cut outs in the windows, the black and orange crepe on the fence.

Back in the 50’s there was another house down the hill, Burt Anderson’s place. He used to decorate for all the old holidays- not the old traditional way, though. He was all high-tech, with holographic Santas (before this “Winter Festival” replaced all the December religious holidays and it was still possible to get enough power to run a holo-net) and shifting sky-cloud reindeer projected from his roof. But he moved on, like they all do. These days there’s just the co-op farm down the slope, and me near the top of  Henshaw’s Hill. New Buffalo is still down below, but the population these days is just a fraction of what it was before 2018. But that’s understandable.

So I’ll stay here a little while longer tonight. Nobody’s coming to trick or treat, but the sky is clear, third day this month. The satellites are still below the horizon, and I can should get enough power to my old mp4 player to listen to some good old ghost stories.

————————————

November 15th, 2067

There was a time when this was election day. Now it’s just the day when some select few of us are allowed to assemble and listen to the Senatorum  Assembly. They know that technically I’m not supposed to be there, but I’ve lived on this hill since 2020 and I had voting rights back in Old New York City so they can’t do much to keep me out of the town square. No one takes me seriously anyway.

————————————-

November 31st, 2067

Looked all lover but I still can’t find my books. I have all the novels and all the textbooks but my own journals are gone. I think it was the Marshall. He was in here a couple of  weeks ago while I was in the square listening to Assembler Car Beck tell us how “privileged ” we are. The Marshall is always harassing me for going to the square.

————————————-

December 11th, 2067

There was a time not long ago when on my birthday I was sure to at least get a call from my brother. I haven’t heard from him in 2 years. Since there is no more cell-net and the military comm-net is unavailable this time of year I’m not expecting one. Birthday. All I’ve done is not die. And that’s quite an accomplishment for someone who’s my age and has lived through what I’ve lived through.

I’ve seen too many of my friends die, and too many others “leave.” There was a time, before The Event, that a funeral would at least give me a chance to connect with some people, but everyone I knew is gone, and the few who almost outlived me weren’t allowed funerals. And there are those about whom I don’t know and aren’t allowed to find out.

———————————-

January 1st, 2068.

They announced last night the new Social Numbering System. It’s like they’re restarting the calendar from 2018. They say that today is Union 1 Year 50. “January” is gone. Soon it will have never existed. (And me…….)

The Social Consolidated Naming System tells me that the town below is no longer New Buffalo. It is now (and I’m sure they’ll say always was) Buffalo, no more “New.”  This way they can all just forget what happened in Old Buffalo.

They also announced that the power will slacken by 38% at midnight, and the lights will negate at 1300 hours.

I still have some batteries. The Marshall keeps threatening me but he won’t find them.

————————————-

March 5, 2068.

(Progress 5 Year 50)

Many years back, in my youth, I had a stock answer about what I’d like to do with my life. I used to say that I’d live in a big house overlooking a town and have some cats to keep me company. Kind of like I’d be some town’s crazy old man. Well, the cats were outlawed, the town is nearly dead, and the house isn’t so big. But I’m still here. Ninety-eight years old. Had a family once. Had a couple of friends once upon a time.

————————————-

June 27th, 2068

(Forward 27 Year 50)

They’ve done more Social Numbering. Twelve months, thirty days each, 360 days. Spread throughout the year will be five “non-days.” On those “non-days” there will be no government services (not that there are many left, other than the co-op farms), no working, and no social interaction, by law. “Non-days” are to be spent in quiet personal reflection, with an emphasis on the greater good.

———————————–

September 8th, 2068

(Strength 6 Year 50)

Had a visit from the Marshall yesterday. I was very surprised, considering that yesterday was Non-Day 2. He wanted to know why I always had fresh vegetables throughout the summer, despite the fact that my records show no transactions at the co-op. (If only he knew what other transactions my records don’t show…) Of course I said nothing, and stood upon my Social Rights. I know that infernal book better than he does. He had me on shaky ground and he knew it. Threatened to have me in front of a Magistrates Registrar that very evening. Well, I still have a trick or two in this old head and I pulled out my last, and my best. The Marshall left, but he’ll be back, probably when I’m not around. He’ll manage to find something incriminating here. He’ll put it here himself.

———————————–

October 24th, 2068

(Emphasis 22 Year 50)

Received a “friendly” warning from  Car Beck. No Halloween this year. I’m too old to fight.

———————————–

November 1st, 2068

(Emphasis 29 Year 50)

Last night would have been Halloween.

———————————–

December 27th, 2068

(Persistence 25 Year 50)

Buffalo has been officially designated the Community Center of Northeast 2. This was formerly the tri-state area. Nowadays there’s no one left who can identify those three states. Or even know what a state was. Or would be allowed to find out. It becomes effective the first day of Year 51.

This would not have happened before The Event, but people have short attention spans and fifty years is a long time.

Tags: , , , , , ,

Newer Entries →