John nodded, obviously relieved. “Okay, fine. We’ve been through worse before, yeah? Wars and pandemics, stuff like that. And we’ve always come out on top. That’s what I think. I think all of this is being overblown.”
Don wanted to ask:Then why are you here? Why did you uproot your lives? Why can’t you look anyone in the eye when you speak?But he didn’t. He said, “From your lips to God’s ears.”
The family insisted they share a meal together. A rest stop a few miles ahead had pullouts, bathrooms, grills. They found an empty stone gazebo off to one side. The rest stop was mostly empty. A couple of long-haul trucks, carrying goods that no longer mattered. A few cars. Nothing more.
Charcoal in the grill, courtesy of John. Hamburger patties from Rodney and Don. Potato chips. Soda and juice. Fruit for dessert, oranges and grapes.
The children were wary of Don and Rodney at first, but that fell away when they sat down to eat. The boy—Jamie—said that he couldn’t wait for his birthday in the fall. He was going to ask for a new computer. Lauren, the little girl, showed them the rocks she’d found. One, she said, looked like a lion. She had others at home. She had to leave them behind because her mother said they didn’t need to take rocks where they were going. She wondered aloud if her rocks missed her, and how she was going to wash them when she got home.
Not once did their parents correct them. Not once did their parents say they weren’t going home again. That there wouldn’tbea home left to go back to. And even if there was, odds were not in their favor that they’d live to see it again.
The parents smiled. The children laughed. Don felt like screaming.
And that only worsened when Jamie said, “Some kid at school told me we’re all going to die.”
John froze. Megan stiffened. Lauren grinned, a potato chip in her hand that she crushed, bits and pieces falling on the table.
“Why do you think he would say that?” Don asked after it became clear no one else would answer.
Jamie shrugged as he peeled a grape with his little fingers. “I dunno. But he said space was coming down and will make us catch on fire. Isn’t that funny?”
“Kids,” Megan said hoarsely. “Go play.”
Jamie frowned up at her. “But I’m—”
“Now!”
They left, but they didn’t go far. Every now and then, Jamie would look back at them with a confused expression. Megan ateslowly, robotically. With a mouthful of potato salad, she said, “Sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.”
Don did. It was a case of the inevitabilities, and a rather serious one at that.
The meal was over, but John didn’t seem quite ready to leave. He rested his elbows on the table and said, “You know, it’s strange.”
“What is?” Don asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“This,” John said. “All of this. A few hours ago, we didn’t know you existed. If things were different, odds are we’d never have met. And I keep thinking, okay, it is what it is. But here you are. Here we are. Together.”
“It was happenstance,” Rodney said with a grunt.
John shook his head. “I don’t believe that, not anymore. Not after… everything. I’m not saying that everything happens for a reason. But this? Here? Now? Maybe itwassupposed to happen. Maybe we were supposed to cross paths like this.”
Don didn’t like the look in John’s eyes. It seemed almost manic. He didn’t blame John for that—how could he? But still… it unnerved him, being up close to someone who seemed on the verge of a breakdown.
He jumped a little when Megan said, “Where are you going?”
“West,” Don said. “We’re heading west.”
“What’s west?”
Without thinking, Don blurted, “Our son.” He ignored the look Rodney shot him.
“Your son?” Megan asked. She glanced at her children, her hand at her throat. “Yes, I suppose that makes sense.” Her gaze tightened. “Why isn’t he with you?”
“What about after?” John asked. “Have you thought about heading north? That’s what we’re doing.” His smile returned, lips rubbery. “You could come with us. To Minnesota. It really is themiddle of nowhere. If there’s a chance at surviving this thing, maybe it’ll be there.”
No, no it wouldn’t be. Any and all land—should it remain intact and not get pulled out into space—would be scorched beyond recognition. The energy from the black hole would create tidal waves of fire so tall, nothing could stand before them and live. It didn’t matter who anyone was or where they went. Billionaires in bunkers or in space. Poor people huddled in basements with dirt floors. No amount of wealth, or how good a person was, none of it mattered. They’d all meet the same end.
“We’d have more than enough room,” Megan said. “I don’t think anyone would mind if—”