By the time they’d finished, both were sore and sweaty. Cranky too, until Don reminded Rodney that in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter. In due time, the audacity of a flat tire wouldn’t be something to concern themselves with.None of us will be here.
It should have frightened him, that thought. It did, but nowhere near to the extent he thought it would. Perhaps that would comelater, in the days ahead as time grew shorter. But here, now, in a forest so green it looked plastic, it was a faraway thing, the end.
But that was a lie. Don knew as well as anyone that time did not stop for pretty things in nature. To distract himself, he said, “No one can change a tire like you. I’m impressed.”
Rodney chuckled, a slight, breathy sound. That was followed by laughter, bright and loud. Don joined in, and the two hung on to each other, laughing, laughing.
It was how the family found them, laughing and hugging and living.
They pulled away, but only just, Rodney’s hand in Don’s. The minivan parked right behind the RV, and a middle-aged man hung his head out the driver’s-side window. “You folks okay?”
Rodney—ever the protector—squeezed Don’s hand in a silent warning. He said, “We’re good. Just had some nail trouble.”
Three other faces stared out at them from the minivan. A woman in the passenger seat. Two children—a boy and girl—leaning between the front seats. The woman said something to the man, and he nodded along. The minivan turned off. The man stepped out.
He was short, with black hair, and looked like a dad on vacation: button-down shirt tucked into khaki cargo shorts. He had on Birkenstocks with white socks that rose halfway up his calves. He stretched, arms above his head, as the other doors to the minivan opened, kids spilling out. The man was smiling, a wide, brittle thing as if the edges of his lips were being pulled up by strings. Not warm, but not frostbitten, either. Just… odd.
The woman told the children to stay close by, and they headed for the trees, the boy chasing after the girl. Small, both of them, the boy probably eight or nine, the girl a couple of years younger. They stopped under a large tree and began picking up leaves from the ground.
The woman joined the man out in front of the minivan. Shewasn’t smiling, instead rubbing her hands together as if cold. She looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, her long hair tied up in a messy bun.
The man said, “Name’s John. That’s my wife, Megan. Boy is Jamie. Daughter’s named Lauren.”
“Don,” he said with an awkward wave. “My husband, Rodney.”
Rodney grunted in greeting and a tip of his head, hand still in Don’s. They’d heard stories. People on the road during these difficult times, not in their right minds. Robberies. Assaults. Murder. They were a family, but that didn’t mean shit anymore.
John said, “What brings you folks out here?”
“Driving,” Rodney said.
“On a trip,” Don added.
John nodded. Megan popped her knuckles. The kids giggled as they lay on their backs on the ground.
“I hear that,” John said, and Don wanted to ask him to stop smiling. It was growing uncomfortable. “Strange, isn’t it?” John looked up at the sky. “Looks like it always has. Hard to believe what’s coming.”
Normal, this. Or, rather, the new normal. It was all anyone talked about. And why shouldn’t they? It was happening to everyone. You couldn’t go anywhere without someone asking what they thought about the black hole, what would happen when it finally reached Earth. Some thought it a hoax; still others believed it was God Himself, and the rapture was nigh. Don thought it was nothing but shitty, rotten luck.
“It is what it is,” Rodney said. “If it wasn’t one thing, it’d be another.”
John laughed, a choked, wet sound. “Yeah, yeah.” Then, “You think?”
Rodney shrugged. “The way I figure it, something always comes due. Can’t really get around it.”
“Right,” John said, head bobbing up and down as if he were a marionette. “Right. Nothing much can be done. You got it in one.” He looked away, rubbing a hand over his face. “Always comes due in the end.”
Megan said, “We haven’t told the kids.” In a hurry, she added, “We will. It’s just that…”
She didn’t finish, looking at Jamie and Lauren, who by this point were pointing out shapes in the clouds.
“Pulled them out of school,” John said in a low voice. “Told them we were going to take a trip of a lifetime.” His throat worked. “Wanted to show them everything.” He laughed to try and hide his tears. “Before it’s all gone.”
“Their grandparents live in Minnesota,” Megan said. “That’s where we’re going. They live out in the middle of nowhere, and we’re thinking there might be a chance.”
“Right?” John asked. “You think? You think there might be a chance?”
Rodney said, “I don’t know.” A gentle lie.