Fractured: Tales of the Canadian Post-Apocalypse(27)

Two years after D-Day

Nature sure is something else. I’ve seen wolves and deer in the city! Mostly they leave me alone, though I am more cautious about where I throw my trash. Every day I go for a walk in Queen Elizabeth Park and feed the ducks with some crumbs. The waterfall no longer falls unless there’s been a good rain and the observatory’s crumbled in places.

Sometimes I think I see the coloured birds that escaped, flying around town, in little flashes of orange and red. The ornamental gardens are overgrown now, but I rather like them that way. It looks wild, beautiful in a way that can’t be created artificially.

Flowers still grow, and sometimes I pick some and put them in your room.

I’ve gotten used to the quiet now. I’ve stopped looking out the window to check whether or not the world has gone back to normal, but I still miss you terribly.

Three years after D-Day

Judy and Bob Snow came calling, right out of the blue! They brought some fresh crab and smoked salmon. We had a feast in our kitchen. Thank goodness the generator’s still up and going. We didn’t have a care in the world while they were here. They’re doing great those two. The salmon are back, they say. Campbell River’s gone wild like it used to be, but that’s the way of things. They never met anyone else, but it sounds like they’ve built their own little paradise.

They’ve got the right attitude, in my opinion. You take what you get, and do your best with it. My god, that salmon was amazing. I can’t remember the last time I had fresh food. They built a cabin, and have gone back to the ways their grandparents lived. Judy’s pregnant too, wouldn’t you know? It’s amazing. They thought they were too old, but there you go. Sometimes miracles do happen, even in the strangest of times.

They invited me and Ying to come live with them. They say an old man shouldn’t be living on his own like this, but you know me. I can’t leave this place, just in case you come back and look for me. I know if you came back you would come straight here. And I know you would, if it were possible.

Ying doesn’t want to leave her “batcave” (that’s what she calls it). I tried to convince Ying to go with them, but she’s as stubborn as you are. She babbled something about reestablishing a digital order. I have no idea what she’s going on about. Should I be worried?

The Snows were disappointed. Maybe one day they’ll understand, but I’m old. Sooner or later, one way or another, I’ll leave this place that you and I made our home. Until then, I take comfort in the memories we made in this city. Everything reminds me of you, and when I’m here, I can almost believe you are too.

Day… I don’t know.

I’ve done something terrible. Ying told me that she saw Tom around, so I went and checked out her place. The poor kid was so terrified she nailed up boards on the windows, and installed extra locks on the doors.

Tom smashed the generator in the yard, but Ying said she could fix it so she wasn’t worried. She was more worried about Tom, and I don’t blame her. I told her I’d look for him.

I put on my heaviest coat, because of the winter chill, and put the gun in my pocket. I tried not to think about it while I walked. (You know me, I’d be likely to shoot my own foot off by accident.) I also loaded up a bag with a few supplies.

As I’d suspected, there were signs that Tom was hiding out in the nearest church, Holy Name, just a little bit farther down Cambie Street. I found sleeping bags and pillows piled up in a nest near the altar, all lit up prettily by the stained-glass windows, but Tom was nowhere to be seen.

I dumped rat poison in the fountain of holy water, and all over his food supplies. I hope that God forgives me. If I’ve been damned, it’s too late anyway. Maybe this is why I have been left behind. Maybe there is a defect in my soul. Maybe He knew I’d commit murder, and therefore wasn’t worthy. But I can’t afford to think like that or I’ll end up just like Tom. I can’t. I won’t.

You want to know the truth? I don’t feel bad about it, just relieved.

Five years after D-Day

Ying and I haven’t seen Tom again. I’m afraid to go back to the church, only to find him there rotting as evidence of my sins.

I still go to the house from time to time, but my knees, in the winter, they don’t work so well anymore, love. The house has a great view, but climbing those stairs is something that’s harder and harder to do. I’ve found a lovely little rancher by the seaside and Ying helped me set it up. I know you would love it.

This is hard for me to write, after all these years. Ying still comes by from time to time to check on me. She seems to be doing all right, just gone a little feral like the rest of us. I haven’t seen the Snows in a while. I hope they’re doing okay, and that their baby is growing up plump and happy.

Some days I hope I’ll disappear too, and maybe I’ll end up wherever you are.

But when you do come back, love, I know you will find these words I’ve left you in our house. Meet me on English Bay, near that old apartment we lived in before we had kids, where you came to meet me that one sunny day, when I bent down on my knees to ask you to marry me. When I close my eyes I can almost see you there.

Just like then, I’ll be there at 12 noon, waiting. It’s a date.

I’m still sure I’ll win that bet.





MATTHEW, WAITING


A.C. Wise