Memories Under Blanket of Night

The harsh wind blew strong, causing her to grit her teeth and shield her eyes. She gripped the object against her chest like her life depended on it. She needed to move faster if she was going to dodge this brewing sandstorm. She could see the derelict structures just a short distance away, only a few miles now. The Gateway Arch; how it was still standing she didn't know, but she was thankful it continued to provide some kind of bearing. At least the Mississippi would be easy to cross without water.

Her stomach rumbled as she set herself down on the decrepit couch, wincing hard but giving a deep sigh as she finally got the weight off her baseball-sized ankle. It was a miracle she even made it into the city limits on this thing. She rolled the compression wrapping package around in her hand to find the tear point, gripping it between her teeth and pulling the gauze free. She lifted her leg and began to wrap her hurting limb.

Crossing a dry river might've been easier than wading through a raging one, but you still have to watch your step.

The brothers stood at opposite podiums, each glaring at each other. The one on the left—tall with black hair and intense green eyes—had just finished speaking, evangelizing his revolutionary atmospheric restoration project. The one on the right—tall with black hair and intense green eyes—had only barely let him finish before he began, postulating the superiority of his future-defining recycling drones.

“You'll poison the world!” The second man shouted, interrupting his speech.

“You'll destroy the planet!” The first man retorted, not hearing the words.

Both men reached into their breast pockets and withdrew a cell phone. Without taking their eyes off each other they inputted codes and flashed the same smug smirk.

For a few moments there was silence, tension in the air as thick as tar. The men had their phones up so they could look at them while keeping the other in their sight. They were both waiting, no doubt for the other to discover that they were right all along, and that...

But both men's faces fell in sync, horror filling their eyes.

She was watching from her kitchen, but her TV began lighting up with breaking news notifications. She lifted a hand to her mouth in shock, and her intense green eyes too filled with horror.

She set her leg back down on the floor, easing herself onto her feet from the couch. Her wrapped ankle pulsed, but it was a bearable pain. With a limp, she made her way out of the living room—having difficulty stepping over the rubble that was once the room's wall—and into the kitchen. Without a roof, she was thankful for this cloudless night; the waxing moon giving enough light for her to find her way through the debris. The fire she made in the living room had been roaring for a while now, and it was about ready.

On the counter-top next to her was a dented percolator, full of fresh water; a boon to have found a source on her way to this temporary home. She rummaged through the destroyed cabinets, quickly finding a relatively clean ceramic mug, and set it beside the kettle. Finally, in the cardboard box that sat on the floor was her bounty; a stale loaf of bread and a single tea bag.

She grabbed both, weaved her finger through the mug handle, and hoisted the percolator with her other hand. With wobbly care, she hobbled her way back to the remnants of the living room.

“Your hypothesis is flawed, and you know it!” A young man screamed, pointing at a blackboard covered in equations and numbers.

“It is not! And at least it's not a hypothesis based on a technology that has to be invented!” A twin young man shouted back, pointing to a tablet filled with complex programming code.

“Boys, I think...” An older woman tried to get between them, but the intensity made her shrink; they just ignored her presence and continued bickering. She hated to see them fight like this, but she knew they needed to do it. There wasn't much she could do anyway, no matter how much she tried to convince them to work together, their approaches were just so different and their egos were just too wild. She decided instead to re-evaluate their work; maybe once they cooled down she could offer suggestions.

After a slow and steady trek she rounded the couch, setting the heavy percolator on the oven grate she had set atop the bricks she was using as a fire pit. She had used the coffee table as firewood, so she set the mug on the floor at the foot of the couch and dropped the teabag into it. Her bones let out an audible creak when she sat herself back down on the couch; it might be old and worn, but it was still comfortable.

She counted her blessings at the area she was able to rest in as the fire crackled before her, eyes affixed on the dancing flames.

She beamed down at the two children as she closed the storybook on her lap. They were looking back up at her with their bright, smart eyes.

“I want to make that world happen!” one said, his voice full of youthful innocence and love.

“Yeah, I think we can do it!” the other replied, looking at his brother happily.

“Oh? And how would you two do it?” she asked in a coaxing tone.

Her first son thought for a second, then clenched his fists together. “I think if we can stop pollution, we can make sure the sky stays blue forever,” he said.

“How nice,” she replied proudly.

“Yeah! And... And if we can recycle all our trash and stuff, we'll never have to worry about energy,” her second son said with a nod, grinning to his brother. Both boys looked at each other with hope and determination.

“I'm so proud of you boys... I just know you'll change the world.”

Her blank expression on the fire shifted as she leaned her head against the back of the couch and shifted her eyes upward. The starry sky glittered and glistened, the moon exceptionally bright even though it was only half there. The lack of unnatural light let the Milky Way's full glory paint the sky; one of the few side effects of the catastrophe that let her cling to some kind of positivity. No matter how many times she looked up at it it took her breath away with its beauty.

She just wished...

Well, she wished a lot of things, but she didn't have the luxury of dwelling on it.

She hugged herself tightly, curled up on her knees, her sobbing finally subsided to where she could open her eyes. The laboratory was disheveled, but spared the same destruction as the rest of the world. Blood matted the raven hair of two men dead in the room, one draped over the desk, the other collapsed on the floor. She timidly crawled her way to her second son, reaching a shaking hand out to him. Her attention was drawn to a gold sparkle he held in his hand, which she took.

She clutched the locket to her chest, as she wobbled to her feet to make her way to her first son. In his hand was a letter, addressed to her.

Fumbling with the folded paper, she opened it and began to read in stunned silence. Her tears were free-flowing as each passing word lit a fire to her emotions.

She silently mouthed the last line.

“Please mom, fix our mistakes.”

As she lay back against the couch, only the crackling fire cutting the heavy silence of the night, the long-assaulting memories and tears she had been holding back tonight finally overtook her. She clutched the heart shaped locket that was around her neck. It was so much—it was too much—the weight of the world and her sorrows smothered her like the infinite stars above.

But as her tears flowed, as the heaviness of reality weighed her body down and made it difficult to breathe, the plea from the letter came back into her mind. The voice of her two sons in unison asking for her once more.

Clumsily she flicked her thumb against the locket and cracked it open. She was greeted with her children's face; young and full of hope, determination, and promise. Under each photo, a tiny memory card, and under each of those a set of coordinates.