Black Box 86ed (19 page)

“You act like you have a choice young lady,” he replies smiling. I grab Graces hand leading her back
.

“I’m a
woman of a different time,” she sighs.

“What do you mean?”

“Just look at them, she’s barely even conscious and her man is still head over heels for her
. That’s real love, that’s what life is
all about.
”

“So I take it love is dead?”

“No, no not quite, it isn’t dead it’s just endangered. I’m sure there are little herds roaming around in remote parts of the Amazon.
”

“Ha, I must have missed that Discovery channel special. Do they compete with chivalry for food?
”

She smiles as we walk down th
e hallway towards the kitchen.
“Ya know if I thought it was a good idea I would not have a problem staying here for a day or two.
”

“What? Really? This almost certainly haunted house doesn’t scare you?”

“Ha not exactly… I don’t know why, it just feels like we’re visiting relatives ya know. Like we aren’t more or less running for our lives right now.”

“Huh, ya I think I know what you mean.
”

As soon as I finish my sentence Grace grabs my hand stopping me. Her finger to her lips we pause, I stare perplexed. A faint humming from the living room floats to us. It starts out soft,
building into a full song as the man sings to his wife.
The song sounds familiar and older than the man singing. Trying to put my
finger on where I’ve heard it but it’s nothing I’ve ever heard more than once or twice.

Grace stares at me beaming.

We continue back towards the kitchen. “It’s just crazy ya know.
”

“They certainly seem to be puzzle pieces for each other,” I reply. N
ot quite sure how to have this conversation with the girl who turned down my own special version of what she is currently so in awe of. I reach into the freezer grabbing a few packs of cigs, turning to the table. Roger and Over staring off into space.

“You finally ready?” Over asks.

“Yep I think so. I say we try to find a pimp mobile for our ride out!”
Grace jokes.

“Ha ya I’m sure that”…
A deafening explosion from down the hallway. Grace losing her balance and falls to the floor as my ears pop.

“Holy fuck,” Roger yells
as dust flies up the hallway bursting into the kitchen.

“What the hell was that!?”
I ask. “Is
it Military?”

Roger looks outside, “there isn’t anything out there.
”

“O Jesus,” I yell, “the oxygen!” Running
down the hallway covering my mouth and nose with the bottom of my shirt as dust flies into my eyes. Turning the corner I see the oxygen tank
’s
a wrangled mess. The top three quarters splintered throughout the walls and furniture, along with bits a pieces of Mr. and Mrs. Emphysema.

“Jesus!” Roger cries out behind me. “Dam broad musta been smoking a cig while he was changing the tanks.”

I hear Grace running down the hallway, I cut her off blocking her view with my chest.

“Are they ok!?” She asks her eyes pleading.

“No, and you don’t want to see,
” I tell her bluntly.

“What... how did it happen?”

“It was the oxygen, her cigarette must have caught the tank on fire.”

She runs back into the kitchen, I follow right behind. She sits down dazed.
“Why does this keep happening Will?”

My mind struggles to comfort her but comes up blank. How can I make something like this alright?

“They were the first sign of normalness we’ve see all day.
It was like we didn’t just go through union station at all. It was like we were just visiting your grandparents or something ya know. Like things where normal
.
”

“It’s going to be alright Grace,” I comfort. “It’s just a matter of hours until we are on our way to Florida.
We’ll see your parents in a day or two
and all this will be behind us.”

She just
snorts in disbelief and stares out the window.

“God dam it!” Over exclaims walking with Roger into the kitchen. “I knew it, I fucking told you
we just shouldn’t have bothered. Wasted an entire hour just to get the dumb bitch her.”

“Watch your fucking mouth!”
Grace yells at him.

Over and Roge
r clearly taken aback by her.
“I was just sayin” Over sheepishly replies.

“I told you we didn’t do it for her, it was for her husband. W
hy don’t you show a little respect to people who have just died huh?”

“I’m sorry Grace, I shouldn’t have said that,”
Over apologizes. Grace huffs in reply.

“Let’s get going,” Roger exhales. “I don’t want to be near that living room and that storm looks like it’s getting in before schedule.”

“What’s the fucking point?”
Grace breaths out.

“What does that mean?”
I ask.

“I don’t know. If something like two people who have been together for forty some years get turned into mashed potatoes what’s the point of anything.”
      

“What?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs.

“Listen, now I understand you want what they had. But think about it. They went out together at least. Not only that but it was quick, it was painless and how could you ask for a better moment to end your life with the person you love than have them singing
to you right before it happens.
They were lucky Grace, plenty of people in this world have died with a lot less.”

She just keeps staring out the window.

“I mean… I had an aunt with emphysema and it’s a long slow painful death.” I lie.
“She would have literally just been sitting there slowly suffocating to death over the next few weeks, months, years whatever.
And her life would have never improved, and it would have just gotten worse.”

Roger turns around, “Ya know something about that whole thing makes me think something else was going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well now hear me out
.
How long has that guy been messing with those tanks now, probably five years at least?
You’d think he would know to keep them away from an open flame, plus could a cigarette really accidently cause that big of an explosion? It just doesn’t make sense.”
      

“What you saying he did it on purpose?”
Asks Grace.

“I’m not in any position to say anything like that but I’d say there is a compelling argument to be make ya know. They were more or less stranded, no help insight unless another group like us happened along. Things would have gotten real bad if she ran out of that oxygen.”

“So he’s a murderer?” Grace replies.

“No… no he’s a martyr if anything Grace. He didn’t want her to keep suffering a slow and painful death, but he didn’t want to live without her either.
I’d say it’s a more fitting end to a lif
e filled with love than the ending they were heading towards.”

Grace lets out a deep sigh.

Roger heads to the door pausing he grabs car keys hanging on a hook. “Well I’m sure driving their van would be better than trying to teach
ourselves how to hotwire a car.”

CHAPTER...

“The wind has picked up outside,
the sky a dark shade of grey I notice as we all step outside.

“How bad is the storm supposed to be?”
I ask.

“When I checked last it was supposed to be a pretty good show from what the radio was saying” Roger replies. A strong gust blows past us carrying the strong musky stench of rain.

“Ok guys, let’s get this show on the road,” Over orders.

Roger jumps in the driver’s side with Over riding shotgun, Grace,
and I in back. It’s one of those old nursing home vans with the lift for wheel chairs. Nearly rusted out on the bottom it lists
easily
from side to side as we get comfortable in the back seat. Grace obviously and understandably still shaken I pull my arm her as she lays her head on my shoulder.

“We did it Grace,” I whisper to her.

“What?”

“All of this, all of this terrible, terrible stuff is going to be right there.”
I tell her pointing to the rear view mirror. Her only response is her
re
positioning herself into a better fitting puzzle piece to me.

“Alright you to ready to blow this dump?”
Roger asks.

“Hell ya.” Over replies as Roger puts the key in the ignition and turns it.

It struggles but doesn’t catch
. The air seems to escape through the windows as we wait for the engine to catch.

“Son of a bitch,” Roger exhales as he gives
the engine a rest.

“Give it some gas Roger.”
Over orders.

He gives the gas pedal three
hard stomps.

“You’re gona flood it ya idiot,” Over yells
.

“Jesus frucking Christ I ain’t
flooding shit. I think that after fifteen
years of driving for a living I would know how to get a car going.
”

Over tries to respond but Roger cuts him off by turning the key.

He huffs turning to stare out the window. The engine struggles for
a second and finally gives way.
Roger jams it into drive and we take off down the street.

“Now, when we get out past the suburbs you two just holler at any car you kids want and we’ll pull over for ya.”
Roger smiles
, “Even Gangsta mobiles,
” he chuckles.

I crack a smile looking down to Grace, her eyes closed. I feel it again. Like I just drank half a bottle of vodka. The warmth flooding my stomach reaching out to my arms down to my figure tips. You did it. She’s yours. You’re going to get her to Florida, you’ll never see Mike again and she won’t miss him because she’s yours. I champion to myself
.

My eyes begin to water but I immediately choke the tears
down. I had always thought I had lost everything important to me when my parents died, but Grace, sleeping on my shoulder is a pretty good trade off.

I look out the window as it starts to drizzle. Tiny specs of water hitting the glass streaming down the side of the van. I look out to a darkening sky, the wind fighting its way through where the windows meet the doorframe
.

“Dam it’s getting bad quick!”
Roger says.

The rain comes down heavier and heavier, “Jesus I can’t see twenty feet in front of us,”
Roger exhales. T
he wind and rain hitting
so hard, the car swaying as we race down the street.

“Hey, hey now slow down,” Over orders.

“Don’t ya see, this is the best way to go?”

“What the hell are you talking about? You can’t see shit, we’re gona crash.
”

“Exactly we can’t see shit. Which means no idiot with a gun can see shit either!
”

Over bites his lip. The rain slowly turning into hail, bouncing off the windshield and hood as roger continues down the road. The downpour of hail and rain hitting the car so hard it’s impossible to tell if it’s really the hail or if we are actually
getting shot at.

“Hey, Hey now slow the god dam car before you get us killed!”

“These streets are deserted, ain’t nothing to run…

We’re airborne.

CHAPTER...

A tornado of Change, empty cigarette packs, and used
oxygen tubes fly through the air as our hearts simultaneously skip beats. We settle on the passenger side after rolling god knows how many times, Grace landing on me.

“Over, Over are you ok?” I hear Roger screaming.

“What, what, what!”
Over crescendos like he was knocked out for just a second. The hail slamming into the side of the car harder than ever. Grace rights herself straddling me. Her fa
ce terrified.
“O god your hand,” she cries.

I look to my l
eft hand it’s perfectly fine.
“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your other one!”

I look to right hand with a sizable piece of glass protruding from. “O God, O fuck!” I exclaim. “Do I take it out or leave it in?
”
      

Roger whips his head around. “Holy shit Will! We need
to get into a house right now!”

“No, no let’s get another car we can fix this on the road.”
I reply.

“Man I didn’t just wreck us, you didn’t hear that explosion?”

“What? What explosion, I thought we just rolled it.”

“We hit something,”
Grace interjects.

“Dam I must have hit my head harder than I thought.”

“I don’t know if it was a bomb or what but we need to get inside somewhere. We’re sitting ducks out here for God know what.”

“Jesus,” I slide the door above us open, rain and hail immediately pours in
.

“Go, go!” I yell to Grace she jumps out the door,
I follow immediately behind. We sprint to a three story house across the street. The rain and hail pelting
so hard I can barely see Grace, even though she’s not ten
feet in front of me. Squinting I spri
nt full speed, taking ice balls to the eyes closing them for just a second as I’m laid out flat by a mailbox. Grabbing my arm G
race pulls me to my feet as we make it into the house.

“Holy shit,”
she cries out whipping around to look out the window. “Where are they?”

“What they aren’t behind us?”