Finite
7:00am
That buzzing alarm, I couldn't get past it. It was incessant and painful like a dull
needle jabbing into my central nervous system.
I had to get up, couldn't waste precious time sleeping. My alarm clock was on the other side of the
room; two work reprimands for tardiness had taught me that the snooze button
wasn't always my friend. 7:00am was the
ideal time for me to wake and head to the office, but of course I wasn't going
to work today. I hadn't been to work all
week, ever since I'd heard the news. I
doubt I was the only one. Really, what
was the point? But today, it was Friday
and it was my last day; who in their right mind goes to work on their last day? No one except crazy people and sadists,
that's who.
I had
more important things to do, it was a big day... you could say it was the
biggest of my life. I took a few minutes
to brush my teeth (dental hygiene is always important, regardless of the day),
shower and shave. I poured some cereal
in an oversized bowl and took a seat at the kitchen table, phone in hand. It was almost 7:30, she should be up. At least I hoped she was. It was an important call and I didn't have
time to waste, not today. I dialed.
"Hello?"
she picked up after one ring, sounding out of breath. Probably just got off the treadmill.
"Hey. Marianne, it's me."
There
was a pause. She was still on the line,
I could hear her conscious attempts to slow her breathing.
"Hey...
this is a surprise. I didn't hear from
you all week, felt like maybe you were avoiding me." She paused again, he
breathing was a lot steadier when she got back. "Shouldn't you be getting
ready for work?"
"Yeah,
I'm not going."
"What? Why?" She asked.
"Um...
I'm not going to talk about that right this minute."
She
sighed.
"
You quit again didn't you? Is this why
you've been dodging me all week? God,
what's wrong with you? It was a great
job, a great opportunity and you wasted it just like your last job and the one
before that. Sometimes... I just don't
get you, don't know why I even bother with--"
"Uh
huh, ok. Look, I didn't call you to talk
about that."
"Then
what? What is it you want because I'm a
bit too mad to even want to get into anything with you."
"I
was calling," I cleared my throat. "I was calling to tell you that our
relationship has gone as far as I think it can and should; it's time for us to
part ways."
Silence.
"Are
you still there?" I didn't want to have to make this call twice.
"What...
what are you saying?" If I hadn't just been talking to her I wouldn't have
recognized her voice.
"I'm
breaking up with you."
"You
don't mean that." Her voice
trembled.
I
glanced at my watch. I'd allocated 10
minutes to this call and we'd already eaten 6 of them. I needed to speed this up, regardless of how
painful it would be.
"I
do mean it. I'm sorry for just dropping
it on you like this so early in the morning.
I've been wrestling with it for a while and I wasn't sure how--"
"I'm
coming over." She cut me off.
"No,
you're not. It's better if you don't--"
"I'm
coming over, we need to talk! If we
could just meet up and talk-- we can't end like this."
I
sighed as softly as I could.
"I
don't think we really have anything more to talk about. I know it's kind of cliché to say but in this
case it really isn't you, it's me, it's the world. I know it doesn't really help and that I've
kind of already ruined your day--"
"My
day?" Her voice was really shaky now; she'd always been a calm and
controlled woman, I'd never heard her like this. "You're ruining my frigging life! We've been together for three years! Three really good years, and you're going to
dump me over the phone? We had tough
spots with the affair and all but I thought we got past... I can't believe I
thought we'd actually get married in a few years... I can't.."
I'd
thought that too up until a week ago.
Truth was I did love her, sort of.
Like a comfortable shirt you'd had for years that had eroded through
overuse. I wasn't what she deserved and
she wasn't what I wanted the most.
"Hey,
look, I'm... I'm sorry. We... you
deserve better than anything I can offer.
You deserve a better guy, a better relationship. We only have so much time on Earth, in
life. We should waste it in a
relationship that's not working."
"Don't
say that, I love you. I thought we got
past it... you forgave me and we got through it." She was crying, at least it sounded like it.
"It's
not about that. It's not just about
that."
"Then
don't... if you do this, if you leave me, I'll kill myself... I swear."
Nine
minutes gone.
"Don't
say that. I'd hate to think you valued
yourself at so low a cost; you're worth so much more... you don't need
me." Ten minutes, I was rushing
now. "Anyway, look, I'm really
sorry for this, for springing it on you like this. Please, make the most of your day."
I hung
up before she could reply. It rang
immediately but I didn't bother to pick up.
She'd keep calling until I answered and she was no doubt on her way here
right now. She'd arrive minutes after
I'd already left. She'd wait, probably
let herself in using the key I'd given her during happier times. It didn't matter. She would wait for the rest of her life, but
the moment I stepped outside I'd never come back.
9:10am
It was
unusually warm for early Spring; we were in the midst of a heat wave. My cell rang incessantly as I walked to the
North York Senior Health Centre. The
first 4 calls were from Marianne according to the call display. The last 10 were listed as "Unknown
Caller"... probably also from Marianne.
Visiting hours had just begun, the receptionist at the front desk
greeted me with a weary smile.
"Hi. I'm here to see Miranda Anderson."
"Miranda...
ok, her PSW is just getting her up.
You're her son, right?" The receptionist asked as she shuffled
through the files at her desk.
"Nephew. I'm her nephew."
"Name?"
"Matt. Matthew Jacobs."
"Right." She looked up at me and smiled. "Yes, you're on the list. Please have a seat, we'll call you when she's
ready."
"Thanks." It was nice to be on this list at least.
The
waiting room was empty save for one middle-aged man who sat amongst an array of
newspapers strewn about. He held today's
issue of Metro about 10 centimeters from his face (I guess his expensive
looking glasses were more for fashion's sake than for practical use). The weight of six long days seeped into my
shoulders . A week of unreasonably long days, for the most part, had begun to
take their toll. It was my fault, I'd
tried my best to make the most of every remaining hour yet hadn't allocated
enough time for the needed beauty sleep.
"Can
you believe this?" My fellow
waiting room occupant looked at me and
gestured to the paper in his hands with a frown.
"Pardon?"
"You
heard about this?" He folded the
newspaper and handed it to me. "This goddamn generation."
I took
the paper into my hands; a hand drawn picture of a young girl filled the front
page. The story had been all over the
news during the past few days. A 16 year
old girl had given birth to a pre-mature baby boy in the bathroom of her
home. Somehow she'd managed to hide the
pregnancy from her parents for the past 7 months. Fearful of their reaction, the 16 year old
had tried to flush the baby down the toilet; the baby, instead, got stuck
halfway down the drain. The police only
discovered it when the toilet overflowed and flooded the apartment below,
prompting the residents to alert the authorities. She now faced murder charges... or
manslaughter, I wasn't sure.
"It's
stuff like that that there, makes me think God needs to wipe humanity out and
start over."
"Yeah."
I rested my head against the wall.
"Maybe that would be for the best."
"You... can't be serious. What, is this some kind of joke?"
I was on the verge of complete
hysteria. It had never happened to me before, I've always been known as the
calm, taciturn man. Then again, who
could ever predict your reaction when hearing news of this sort.
"I know it's a shock but
please, try to stay calm." He was
an older man, about 50, with glasses and a dark suit. Standard government looking guy you'd see in
the movies.
"Stay calm? You just said, in no uncertain terms, that
I'd be dead in a week. That pretty much
everyone I've ever met will be dead... how the hell do you stay calm after
hearing that?"
We were in one of those
interrogation type rooms you see on those TV cop shows, complete with the two
way mirror and hanging light that was too hot and too bright. I could only imagine who was on the other
side of the glass.
"I mean, why are you even
telling me this? What makes me so
special to rate a personalized government explanation?"
The suit slid a set of pictures
across the table; I caught them before they fell on to the floor. I peered at them, pictures of my brother and
sister, their significant others and kids.
"Because not everyone you
know is going to die. Not them."
The tightness in my chest eased
as it was replaced with a slight feeling of relief.
"But why? Why them and not me?" I asked.
"Because the world to come
is going to need doctors, physicists and construction engineers. Because we have limited resources and, to be
frank, we don't need people with your skill set... or lack thereof.
Another person telling me that I
wasn't enough. I dropped the pictures on
the table and ran my fingers across my head.
"So... what's to stop me
from telling everyone, the public, about this?
This can't be public knowledge."
"Oh, you're free to tell anyone
you want. We aren't going to kill you,
that would be pointless. But if you do,
your brother and sister, and their kids, will join you in the cold. They're desirable but we can replace them,
believe me."
I sighed. The hand of despair held my heart in an
increasingly uncomfortable way.
"Why... why did you bring
me here?"
He put his hand on my shoulder.
"Your family wants to say
goodbye--"
"Mr.
Jacobs? Your aunt is ready to see you
now." The receptionist called out
and I jumped to my feet.
The 20
minute pseudo-nap left me rejuvenated but wanting more; I'd steal another nap
later on if I could. My aunt Miranda sat
in a recliner facing the large window in her small room. A hot breakfast
consisting of scrambled eggs, pancakes, and coffee complimented by a dosage of
Aricept and Cipralex waited for her on the TV tray adjacent to her recently
made bed. The TV was on, Maury Povich
was reading the results of a paternity test.
Aunt Miranda barely noticed.
"Good
morning Aunt Miranda, how are you?" I kissed her lightly on the cheeks.
She
shifted in her chair, eyes wide and focused on me. She threw her hand at me and
I flinched just enough to avoid a vicious slap.
"Who
are you?" Her voice was loud but
not panicked.
"It's
your nephew Matt. Remember?"
"I
know that! I'm not stupid." There was no recognition in her eyes but the
hostility had faded. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"
"Sorry."
I slid a chair across the room to face her. "So, how are you? Sorry I haven't visited in a while."
"I'm
hungry, that's how I am. These people...
they want to starve me to death. I want
breakfast."
I moved
the TV tray and set it before her.
"Here,
this looks like a great meal just for you."
She
attacked the stack of pancakes with the savagery of an enraged lioness, plastic
knife and fork ripping into the soft pastry simultaneously.
"It's
about time." She seemed to be ignoring the eggs; they had been her
favorite breakfast food a lifetime ago. "Where's Gregory? He's not with you?"
Cousin
Greg , who I hadn't seen since... in over 15 years.
"Aunt
Miranda, you remember what happened to cousin Greg, don't you?"
"Gregory
was here yesterday afternoon, he stayed for dinner too. That nurse out there, keeps telling lies,
said Gregory... that terrible things happened to him. But then he showed up like he does every
afternoon. Those nurses, they lie and
steal when I'm not looking. They think I
don't know, but I do."
I
rubbed her shoulder gently and she looked up from her dwindling stack.
"I'm
sure they're trying their best to help." I said.
"Don't
you start Matthew." She pushed her plate forward on the tray. "Why are you here?"
"I
was in the area and wanted to visit my favorite aunt."
She
finished the last of the pancakes and moved on to the coffee.
"Favorite
aunt! If I was your favorite aunt you'd
visit more often like Gregory!" She snorted then looked out the window
once more. "Where is that boy, he was just here last night..."
I took
her small hand into my own and managed to capture her attention.
"Actually,
I wanted to tell you a story. About a
lady I knew when I was much younger."
She
finally cracked a smile.
"A
girlfriend? Are you getting
married?"
"No
no, nothing like that. This lady was
much older than me... her name was Miranda too.
She had an older sister named
Shawna who was married to a man named Joe.
They had 3 kids, Patricia, Malcolm and Matthew. One night like 20 years ago, her sister
Shawna and husband were killed in a car accident but the kids survived. Miranda and her husband took the kids in even
though she was already barely coping with her son Greg. He had emotional problems. She took those 3 kids in, kids who were full
of rage and sadness, and she gave everything she had and more to make sure they
were fed, educated, and most of all happy.
About 5 years later, another tragedy... Greg killed himself. She was filled with grief but she kept it
together for her kids... well... the niece and nephews that she treated like
her own. And 7 years later, when her
husband was diagnosed with ALS, she took care of him pretty much on her own
since the kids were ungrateful and took that wonderful woman for granted. She stayed with him, cared for him until he
died 4 years later. you cried that
night, in private when you... she thought the kids had gone to bed. And she kept going, providing and being the
rock for these kids, into adulthood, and when they could stand on their own,
only then did she relent. That thing
inside her that drove her saw that the job was done and left. Those kids did what they could but nothing
they did, nothing could ever equal the care, the love, the strength that she
gave. She's not really around anymore,
but more than anything I wanted to say I'm sorry I wasn't a better nephew or
son. I wanted to say thank you. You're too good for this world and far better
than we deserved. Far better."
"She
sounds like a wonderful woman." She
continued to gaze out the window.
"Yeah
she sure is. She deserved better than
she got."
Her
focus was on something outside; she only regarded me when I stood up.
"You're
not leaving now, are you? So soon?"
Her eyes were wide and I was reminded of that cartoon cat who manipulated
hearts with that wide-eyed look.
"No."
I glanced at the TV. "No, I can stay for a while. Maury's about to reveal the father of
LaQuandra's baby; I can't go before that."
I moved
my chair beside her and took a seat.
"Oh,
she's a hussy, just look at her. She's
been around, you can tell!" She said, her face serious as though she were
revealing a deep, dark truth.
"Ha,
yeah." I laughed and put my arm across her shoulders.
The
warm smile she'd always had when I was a kid made a brief appearance.
1:35pm
After
two episodes of Maury and an episode of The View followed by the local news, I
was on my way downtown. I'd spent more
time with Aunt Miranda than I'd intended but nothing I had planned could ever
compete. She'd probably forget the
morning by the time I reached the subway, minutes away. It was ok, I'd keep the
memory for the both of us.
As I
stepped out into the afternoon sun, my phone immediately began to flash and
buzz. The home had traditionally had
spotty reception at best and during this week of almost random network outages
it had become a virtual dead zone. There
were three voicemails and 17 texts waiting for me; all but one was from
Marianne. The remainder was courtesy of
my best friend Julie; her message consisted of two simple words, "Call
Me."
"Where've
you been? I texted you like two hours
ago!" Julie almost sounded angry.
"I
was at the home visiting my aunt, no cell reception. What's up?"
"We
need to talk. Your girlfriend's been
calling me like every five minutes looking for you. You need to call her, like now."
I
sighed as I stood at the top of the escalator leading to the subway platform
below. The westbound train rumbled past.
"Yeah,
sorry about that. We kind of had a thing
this morning. Didn't think she'd ever
call you... didn't even know she had your number."
"We
are not close. So when her name pops up on my call display I
know it's probably not a good thing. So,
what the hell happened?" She asked.
"We
broke up. Or actually, I dumped
her. I'll tell you about it when I see
you. Heading into the subway now so I'm
going to lose you in a second."
"Call
me when you get down here. I want to her
the full story!" She spoke quickly and excitedly as though she expected
the line to go dead any moment.
"Will
do."
A
mostly empty subway car waited for me as I reached the bottom of the escalator;
I slid in just as the rear-most doors shut. I sat opposite the conductor's
"control booth" or "cockpit" or whatever that section's
called. The only other car occupant sat
facing me on the other side of the nearest exit. I thought he might have been a homeless man
who had sneaked onto the train, given his disheveled appearance and the
"crazy man" aura he projected.
He stared right at me, no, beyond me through glass lenses saturated with
grime. His hair was wild and not in that
stylish out of control way that some people dug. Both his beard and his shirt had bits of food
stuck to them. Our eyes met for the
briefest of seconds as I shifted in my seat and in that moment I saw it. The visage of a man defeated so thoroughly
that he refused to get up again. I'd
seen it before, almost a week ago in the mirror above my bathroom sink. The man saw me in that moment and forced a
smile, exposing yellowed teeth. I nodded
acknowledgment. Neither of us said a
word, no words were needed, we knew we were kind, children of impending doom.
"I'm sorry, we tried, we're still
trying to get you in. I don't... we
won't let you go without a fight."
My sister Patricia was
crying. She'd been the epitome of
emotional detachment for the majority of our lives. She'd reacted with the same satisfied smile
when she gave birth to her first child that she would when she ate a really
good sandwich. My brother stood behind
her, arms crossed and stone-faced. It
all just made me feel worse and I didn't think that was possible given the news
I'd received only minutes earlier.
"We're going to do
everything we can, believe it Matt." My brother Malcolm added.
I felt lightheaded and sat back
down at the table.
"Okay. Okay, yes, please do what you can." The government guy had been definitive in his
comments about the upcoming event. My
family's attempt to reassure me sounded like wishful thinking at best. "If it doesn't work though, do you know
what's going to happen? I mean like the
how and the why? You're a physicist,
you've got an idea, right?"
Patricia had regained her
composure, thoughts of science tended to have that effect on her.
"It has to do with the
sun. It's... complicated."
I know she didn't mean it that
way but her refusal to provide specifics, her words made it sound like I was
too stupid to understand how I would die.
"Will it hurt? Am I-- will I suffer?"
"I don't know." She
looked away and wouldn't meet my gaze.
"What's going to happen?"
I looked to my brother. "Tell me, please."
"They haven't told us
much. On Saturday, this coming Saturday
at around 4:00am, something's suppose to happen. When the sun starts to rise--"
There was a loud pair of knocks
on the other side of the mirror; my brother was stunned into silence.
" I can't say any
more." My brother concluded. I
looked to my sister; she held her head down.
"We can't--"
A bell
rang and the train doors slid open. The
disheveled man was gone by the time my eyes opened and I rejoined the land of
the conscious thinkers. I`d intended to
take the subway right to Yonge and Dundas but instead I exited five stops early
and decided to walk. It was a beautiful
day and the city deserved to be experiences at least one more time.
The
temperature had jumped by about 10 degrees during the short time I'd spent on
the subway; I took my jacket off before I melted. It was already hotter than had been
forecasted on the news and I knew it'd only get hotter until... the end.
For the
first time in recent memory, Yonge Street wasn't overwhelmingly congested with
foot and auto traffic. The business
lunch crowd had thinned out leaving tourists and college students to rule the
streets. Most were headed south towards
Yonge & Dundas Square where the outdoor venue was being setup. Metric would be headlining a free show there
along with a bunch of other bands in a couple hours; Julie was already down
there, probably right up front, fighting off anyone who dared to encroach upon
her space. I'd be there soon.
A crowd
had gathered at the base of a five storey building about a block ahead. Their attention was focused on the roof where
a man, who looked to be in his late forties at most and had just stepped out of
his office job at an investment bank, stood on a ledge. He was yelling, his face reddened and sweat
soaked. His words were hard to make out
over the din of the crowd. I moved
closer.
"I
decide! Me, not you!" He pointed to
the sky and then down to the crowd below.
"What's
he saying?" "That poor man, someone needs to do something."
Murmurs ran through the crowd. I was
close enough to hear him now.
"I
decide when I die! You hear me? Me!
Not you! I won't be subject to
your random whims! No! You may've taken
everything else from me, but this is mine!"
He
leaned over the edge; for a moment he seemed to be floating mid-air. His arms were outstretched, hands grabbed at
the air as though it could be held. The
pavement caught him head first like a hammer catching an egg. A wet cracking sound echoed, a wave of red
painted those nearest to the building.
There were screams and cries. One
woman fainted while a teenage boy seemed to have a nervous breakdown and fell
to his knees. Sirens rang out in the
distance while the body trembled as nerve endings died.
Silver
security barriers had been erected on the streets and sidewalks surrounding the
square within a two block radius, limiting the traffic to the area. I made it through the long lineup, thankful
for the relative expediency given the time crunch. The square was packed, especially near the
stage, but not to the overwhelming degree that I'd expected. Julie had secured a table in front and to the
right of the stage. A pair of mismatched
lawn chairs were pulled up on either side of her, she'd brought them from
home. Her head was buried in the most
recent edition of the Toronto Sun; she looked up from her paper and made eye
contact as I approached.
"I
thought you were supposed to call me when you got down here?" She had that
look of stern disapproval that she usually saved for her cat when he scratched
something he shouldn't have.
"I
was going to but then I saw you and figured I'd just, you know." I took a seat in one of the lawn chairs, it
was as wobbly as I remembered.
"Unacceptable."
She folded the paper and threw it to me.
"We should do this."
It was
open to a half page article about a young married could in Ottawa who, after
living in a high crime area, decided to roam the streets with their pet husky,
fighting crime like comic book superheroes. Sounded like a lot of crazy talk to
me but the crime rate in their area had plummeted by something like 70%.
"What,
you want to get married? Move to
Ottawa? Get a dog?" I teased.
"Fight
crime you ass. Clean up the city using
our brains and our fists!" She
punched at the air like an amateur boxer.
I
laughed.
"Sure,
yeah, I can see it. We'll get started on
Monday."
"You'll
have lots of free time for it now that you've cast aside your girlfriend."
"Cast
aside? That's not entirely--"
"I
want to hear the story. What the hell
happened?" She interrupted.
"I
don't know... it's... it was a long time coming. I just... it was time I guess."
"But
what happened? I mean, how did it
happen? Classy like George
Costanza?" She asked, attempting to keep it light.
"Um,
well, I called her up this morning. We
chatted and I broke up with her."
"You
called her, chatted, then went to her place and broke up with her?
Seriously?" She inquired.
"Not
quite. I didn't go to her place... it
was just over the phone."
She
stared at me in silence for a moment that felt like eternity.
"You
dumped her over the phone?" It
sounded so much worse when she said it than it did in my head.
"Yes."
"But
she was your girlfriend for, like, six years!"
"Two
and a half years actually." My face was red now.
"Doesn't
matter, if it's more than two weeks she deserves better than that! God, you're an asshole... and I didn't even
like her either, but still!"
"Look,
I didn't think about it like that but it had to happen eventually, right? I mean, we only have so much time in life; I
didn't want to waste another second of our lives together since it clearly
wasn't working out." I rationalized.
"How
was it not working out? you seemed
happy, heck I thought you guys would eventually get married!"
"No. I wasn't happy, I don't know about her. I mean, she cheated on my for god's
sake." I explained.
"That
was like a year ago. And you forgave
her."
"But
still..." I protested.
"You
forgave her, there are no 'but still's' in that. And that thing you said about having limited
time in life? that's BS. That doesn't give you license to burn all
your bridges and stuff, or it shouldn't at least."
"Alright,
then what would you have done?"
"I
would've gone to her place or met her somewhere, talked it out. She deserves that much at least. And if my time ran out that night I'd be able
to go with the knowledge that I did right by her and didn't just earn a spot in
the asshole hall of fame."
"Wow...
ok, tell me how you really feel."
She
sighed and, for the first time since the rant began, smiled.
"Look,
you know I love you. And I hated Marianne. But I know how it feels to be dumped like
that. It's not a feeling I'd wish on
anyone so... I'm on your side as always but I feel bad for her."
One of
the opening acts had taken the stage and had begun to tune up.
"You
better hope she doesn't show up here this evening. It won't be pretty."
7:00pm
The sun
was still up, just above the horizon. It
was unusual but no one seemed to care. A
few lesser known bands had been on since around 2pm. Tokyo Police Club was scheduled to take the
stage in a few minutes but the mayor, who appeared to have already had seven to
ten beers too many, wanted to say a few words.
He stood center stage, staggering to the mike. He spoke but it all sounded like
gibberish. I heard the words "final
days" amongst the nonsense and got a sense of what he was talking
about. no one care, no one was
listening, the crowd wanted the music they came to hear. We'd been ushered further back from the stage
as the grounds crew removed the tables and chairs to make room for more
people. Julie wasn't pleased but as long
as we were closer to the front than the back, her rage could be contained. A couple of our other friends, Tyson and
Wendy, arrived halfway through Tokyo Police Club's set. We'd expected them hours ago but they'd been
forced to drive after three people decided to jump in front of both the north
and southbound trains, forcing the closure of the entire line.
"Hey
bro, I heard you broke up with Marianne?
Like, today?" Tyson asked,
beer in hand. He looked like a real-life
version of Captain America.
"O.
M. G." Wendy emphasized each syllable. "Julie told me about it; I'm
glad, she was so terrible."
"He
dumped her over the phone!" Julie jumped in before I could reply.
"Seriously? Bro... that's cold."
"That
is so rude. I am so
surprised at you, she was a bitch but that is just so not right." Wendy
and Tyson were talking over each other, yelling over the band as they hammered
out Tessellate in record time.
"Yes,
I know, I made a mistake and I'll fix it later."
"Dude,
is that why you've been KIA all week?
Trying to decide the worst way to dump her?"
"You
mean MIA and no, I just had stuff I needed to do." Namely sulk and drink too much for a day or
two, and other unmentionable things done in order to wash away the taste of the
worst news ever.
"I
hope we don't see her down here, that'd be so
sad... and awkward... and messy for you." Wendy said before turning her
attention back to the stage as the band neared the end of their set.
Marianne
wouldn't be here. She hated this kind of
music and hated crowds even more than I did.
Still, I glanced over my shoulder into the sea of revelers. I didn't see her.
9:30pm
The sun
had finally set but the temperature continued to rise, it was almost 30
degrees. The heat, mixed with the free
flowing alcohol and the overpowering smell of narcotic substance, had begun to
have an affect the crowd. I did my best
to stay clear-headed and so did Julie. It was her primary goal in life to see
Metric live and she was minutes away from accomplishing that goal. She'd kept herself fairly restrained during
the performances, sticking to water and only swaying gently as Tokyo Police
Club's performance transitioned into the stoner rock styling of Black Mountain,
into the electronic madness of Crystal Castles.
Broken Social Scene had just finished their set, leaving the inebriated
and overheated crowd buzzing with anticipation.
The crowd surged forward as Metric took the stage. The lights flickered a couple times then
intensified as the band launched into Gimme Sympathy. Julie seemed to explode with energy as soon as the song started, dancing and
jumping around, occasionally in beat to the music. The rest of the crowd danced in disjointed
unity; Tyson and Wendy did their best to keep up but an over abundance of
alcohol had proven to be too significant of a hindrance. Tyson was pretty much carrying her by the
fifth song. Ten songs in and you could
feel the event winding down even as the propelled into Poster of a Girl. I glanced over at Julie and could see the
pure energy of joy in her eyes. She spoke, I couldn't hear her voice over the
thunderous guitars and pulsating drum beat but I knew what her words were.
"Best
night ever."
They
played for another 30 minutes, with an encore that lasted 20 minutes beyond
that, before leaving the stage and by then even the band looked exhausted. The crowd was slow to disperse and I half
expected people to riot given the minimal police presence, but things stayed
mostly peaceful. We stayed in the square
on a bench near the subway entrance for an additional 30 minutes, time for
Wendy to sober up enough to walk to Tyson's car a few blocks away. We spotted the mayor in an alley adjacent to
our parking spot, passed out on the cold cement, prone in a pool of his own
vomit... at least we hoped it was his own.
I took
the keys out of Tyson's hands, he knew he was in no condition to drive so he
didn't fight it. Both he and Wendy
passed out seconds after sliding into the backseat; Julie rode shotgun. We were on the road for maybe 10 minutes
before Julie dozed off too. I navigated
out of the downtown core and continued on without purpose and without a destination. The city was still alive, people were still
partying and making the most of the long weekend. The lack of cops on the road was blatantly
obvious, like they'd all been given the night off. I guess the higher ups, the police chief and
such, figured it was a futile exercise having them work during mankind's
supposed final night.
We
eventually reach the quietness of suburbia just as the night sky began to be
touched with light once more. I brought
the car to a stop at the Bluffs, in a grassy field that overlooked the lake. The engine shuddered to a halt as though it
had died. A softened thud echoed on the
roof just above my head. I thought it
might have been the beginning of a rainstorm until a second, louder thud
reverberated through the hood. I leaned
over the dashboard to get a look at the source; it was a bird. The tips of its wings were blackened,
singed. A third bird fell, landing on
the hood and leaving behind a small bloodied dent, followed by another that
landed in the field. A fifth, a sixth...
dozens fell in a downpour of death.
Julie stirred in the passenger seat and her eyes fluttered. She had a pretty significant fear of birds, I
hoped she wouldn't focus too much on anything outside.
"Hey."
Her eyes were open. "Where are
we?"
"The
bluffs."
"Why? This is pretty far out of the way."
"I
don't know, I was just driving around, started getting tired and figured... why
not?"
She
closed her eyes again and rested her head on the window.
"Okay."
"So...
was Metric everything you dreamed of?" I asked.
She
smiled.
"And
more, oh they were amazing!" She put her hand on my arm. "Thanks for
coming along, I know of your intense hatred of overwhelming crowds."
"That's
what friends are for, right? Well, that
and for yelling at when they screw up."
"Yeah. Listen, I'm sorry for maybe going overboard
with my tone and stuff but I meant what I said.
And --"
"I
know and you were right. I kind of wish
I'd talked to you before I did what I did." I looked over at her and then back out the
window. "Something you said earlier
got me thinking. About life and
stuff. If... if a person found out that
this was their last day alive, how do you think they should spend their
time?"
"Why?"
She asked, eyes still closed.
"Curiosity."
"With
family probably."
"What
if they had no family? What if their
family was dead or out of reach in some other way?"
"I
think it would depend on what you believe." She sat up in her seat and opened her eyes.
"If you're a god-fearing person I'd think you'd spend the day righting
wrongs and making amends. Getting things set to keep yourself on God's good
side. If you're not a godly person
then... I guess it wouldn't matter what you did."
"What
do you mean?" I asked.
"There's
no afterlife of any kind for you, nothing more after death. No matter what you did, whether you spent the
day giving to charity or spent it on the toilet, once you die you have no
regrets, no concerns, no moments of hardship or triumph."
"So,
what would you do?" I glanced at the dashboard clock. 3:50am.
"It
depends on what I could do. I mean,
tonight, today was great. Best day in
recent memory. If it was my last night,
spending it with friends, my best friend, at a concert with my favorite band,
free of drama and stuff... I'd meet my end satisfied." She smiled and nudged me with her elbow. "What about you?"
"Yeah,
I was thinking pretty much the same thing."
"Wait
--" The smile was gone now, she glanced back out the window. "Is that why you brought me out
here? Are you going to kill me? Were you asking to be sure that I enjoyed my
last night alive? Are you some kind of
Dexter-esque serial killer?"
"Um
no, not that I know of."
"Then
did you bring me here to make out?" The smile returned.
"No.
Well, unless you want to."
She
laughed.
"Yeah,
no, I think I'll pass." She closed
her eyes again and leaned back. "Wake me up when you decide to bring us
home."
I
glanced at my phone; Marianne had stopped calling. It was 3:59am, one minute before the end, and
all I wanted to do was call her, to set straight what I had made wrong. There wasn't time, nothing I could say in 60
seconds that would make her forget it all.
At this hour she'd be asleep anyway, dreaming of happier times. Maybe, when whatever was supposed to happen
happens, she'd sleep through it and never feel the panic and fear that those in
the know are probably feeling right now.
4:01am. The end was a minute
late. maybe they were wrong, the government guys who crunched the numbers. Maybe they missed a decimal, forgot to carry
the one, excluded some variable that threw all of their predictive models out
of whack. 4:15am. They were wrong. I still have a chance to fix things. I could call Marianne in the morning, fix
it. I'll visit Aunt Miranda again
tomorrow, every day for as long as I can.
I had a second chance now, a real opportunity to make everything better,
to make things as good as they should be.
4:25am. I started the car. On the horizon a sliver of sunlight lit the
sky. There was a sound, a woman screamed
and was silenced like an alarm clock cut off by a snooze button. A second scream, then silence. It continued with increasing frequency as the
sunlight intensified. Julie was still
asleep; Tyson and Wendy were still out too.
I closed my eyes. Sunlight
touched my face. A feeling like
lightning, and then--
The End
