I’m lying on the cot. Claudette is under my bed playing with her leopard print elephant. Anya is humming softly and I want to tell her that I’m sick. She peels away the webbing from her orange, she eats the bitter fruit. Bitter.
“Number 924!” A voice calls from the phone area. 9…2…4… My number! I rush to the booth, close out the chaotic mashed noises of the main room. I dial Billy.
“Yes?” He asks intently.
“Bill!” I shout into the phone. His voice is so familiar. So much like Dad’s, it’s remarkable.
“God damn, Tom, are you alright? I hear the whole city’s gone to hell. Dammit.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure, I’m fine. I’ve only got ten minutes. I’m in the stadium. Like when the hurricanes hit, the super dome, that sorta deal. It isn’t bad. Not bad at all. Are you okay?”
“Fine as I’ll ever be. We haven’t got power up here but there hasn’t been one damn siting of those little shits up here. None! We’re doing great- it’s like they never even came. Boy, I’m glad to hear you. What about Ma, have you talked to Ma?”
“Oh no no. Well she called me- before- once. But, is she okay, Billy?”
“I dunno. Well I talked to her three days ago. She said she was leaving for Fort Drum- said it was safe there.”
“Good, good. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Tom. Tom, do your best to get out of there. I have a feeling- I dunno, take the next train out.”
“Yeah, yeah… I know. I was in this camp before.”
“Listen, you may feel safe. Take the next train, bus, whatever it takes. Come here. You’ll be safe in Anchorage.”
“Oh right, right.”
“I’m not kidding, Tommy. Get yer ass up here first chance you have. Honest. Safe in Northern regions. You see the news?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Dammit, haven’t they go any TV’s there?” He yells.
“Yes, they do. I haven’t watched, always crowded ‘n stuff.”
“Oh,” he sighs. “First chance, you hear me?”
“I do. I will. I am. Okay?”
“Yes.”
“By- Bye, Billy.”
He sighs heavily. “Tom.”
Then a click. Hardest goodbye of my life. It’s one of those good-byes that leaves you staring at the receiver blankly- as if it were the person. Its black shine shows my reflection.
Pound. They’re knocking on the door.
“Times up! Times up! We got a whole list!” Shouts a man from the other side of the door. I could of said I love you. I kick the chair before I turn to walk out. Hardest goodbye of my life. Right up there with Dad. Fuck. Fuck. Now I’m tearing up. He was a bastard, too, and Billy’s my brother- and here they are dying and I never said I love you. I’m such a fucking ass. Anya, I still have a chance to tell Anya.
But she isn’t at my cot when I return. So I stare at the orb lights wishing I had something like a cigarette to cure my aches.
