“Seth, let’s call one of them to find out what they’re offering.”
Seth moved to the garbage and dropped all the mail in the trash. “Bug off,” he said to her with a smile.
***
The examination room was cold. “Come on, Lara. As far as I’m concerned, there’s only one way for this to conclude, and that’s the birth of our bouncy baby boy, Ronald.”
“You mean Sven.” The camera swung around to a pregnant Lara in a blue paper gown, legs splayed on the examination table. “Do you have to point the camera there, Seth? I mean, really? Maybe I’m going to have to do some filming myself. ‘Mr. Drools when he sleeps. ’ Oh, by the way, since you have that job interview, Marni would like to take your place at that Lamaze class. I mentioned it to you last week, but you didn’t answer me.”
“We were speaking about that this week?”
“Last week I was. You weren’t listening.”
“I don’t recall that.”
“Exactly.” Lara pleated her paper gown, trying to fold over a tiny tear.
“Oh yeah, right. Marni.” Seth suddenly remembered.
“You sure you still want Marni as Godmama for Tyrone?”
“She’s my oldest friend.”
“Older than dirt,” said Seth, a little too harshly. “Do you think her herpes adds to her value as the guardian of Uriah’s soul?”
“Stop.”
“I mean do you think Father Felix is going to be overjoyed with your choice?” Seth continued to push.
“Don’t go there.”
“If she touches the baptism water, do you think it’ll boil?”
“You are not funny.”
“Did you know that the character of Al Pacino in the Devil’s Advocate was based on Marni?”
“She’s good...”
“In bed.”
“How would you know?” Lara asked with tightened lips.
“I’ve heard.”
“From whom?” Lara was getting more serious.
“From Lance, Ethan, Nick, Josh, Robert, Max, Eric, Matthew, Jason, Cooper, Brody, Kevin…”
“OK, I get it.”
“Paul, Billy, Alexander, David, Carl, Vinnie, Stu, Frank…”
“Oh…kay!”
“Want me to continue? I think I got about a third of the way through,” said Seth. “I believe there’s a list somewhere in the men’s bathroom in Riggs Hall.”
“I was saying she’s a good soul and a dear friend. We all should think how we’d appear under scrutiny.” This was said with a knowing look that would have shamed most men. But most men were not Seth.
“Speak for yourself, madam. I am as pure as the driven snow.” Seth placed his hand over his heart earnestly.
Lara couldn’t help the snort that escaped her nostrils, along with the uncontrollable gas that came with pregnancy. Seth lost it, and Lara couldn’t help herself either.
The hysterical laughter caused the camcorder to shake with the advent of more gas.
“Eewww! Quit it!” exclaimed Seth.
“Stop, you’re making me fart,” Lara said with uncontrollable giggles, her face bright red. Seth knew how to up the ante even more.
“Any husband would have left you if he heard someone fart like that.”
She started taking a breath to calm down.
Seth started riling her up more. “I would love to see you fart like that in front of the doc.”
Lara continued to fart and laugh simultaneously. Two knocks at the door interrupted their play.
“OK, stop,” Lara said, trying to gain her composure.
Dr. Roman, a dapper man in his late sixties, wearing a blue button down tucked into khakis, entered the room and closed the door behind him. He had a cap of white hair and a suspicious looking tan in the deep winter. “Having fun, kids?” said Dr. Roman.
“Is gas more common during pregnancy, Doc?” Seth inquired seriously.
Lara burst into laughter with a couple more farts popping and mumbled an apology, her face a lovely shade of pink.
Seth and Lara seemed to really enjoy this. The doctor simply smirked and then answered, “Everyone, pregnant or not, has some gas. You may be surprised to learn that the average person produces between one and four pints of gas each day and passes gas about fourteen to twenty-three times a day.”
“I think she just did that in about thirty seconds,” Seth remarked.
“Once a woman becomes pregnant,” continued the doctor, “she may find herself belching or passing gas a lot more than usual or having to unbutton her pants to relieve bloating.”
“Ugh,” said Lara as she shook her head.
“How are you feeling?” He looked at her compassionately.
Although he directed his question to Lara, Seth answered, “I’m all right now, Doc. Did my part, which was rather easy,” he confided. “Ball’s in Lara’s court.”
“Right.” The doctor rolled his eyes. “As you move into the second trimester, you’ll have to urinate more frequently.”
“Buy wee-wee pads,” Seth said aloud, making imaginary notes.
“Drink plenty of water. Don’t dehydrate. Your ankles may swell up. If they get too big, call me.”
“Tell me some good news,” Lara quipped.
“Baby boy in six months, is that good enough?” Seth asked.
“Let’s take a look. It may be early, but I might see something. Do you want to know the sex?” Dr. Roman readied the ultrasound wand.
Lara took a long, considering look at Seth as she lay down on the exam table. “No, I don’t think so.” She giggled as he squeezed jelly on her belly. “Is this going to hurt?”
Dr. Roman gave the camera a smirk, “In a few months.”
“Everyone’s a comedian,” Lara remarked.
“So where are you, little one? Where... are…ah, there you are!”
A black, gray, and white image of a fetus bounced onto the screen. Lara cupped her hands over her mouth with joy. For once, Seth was speechless.
“Vitals. Good. Yup, huh, yup... looking good, Daddy and Mommy, are you ready for parenthood?” He gave a long look at Seth holding the camera over his shoulder. “Well, I mean are you getting ready for the infestation?”
“Doc, our boy may look like a termite, but c’mon. I saw pictures of your kids too,” Seth replied laconically.
Dr. Roman’s eyes never left the monitor as he retorted, “I don’t see a termite here. Beautiful little…well, let’s just say baby. I am, however, concerned about the cicada infestation.”
“Is there a vaccination for that?”
“Seth!” Lara admonished. “Be serious.” To the doctor she said, “Do you think it’s a problem?”
The doctor removed the wand from Lara’s belly. “Yes. Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. I’ll admit that I am getting nervous with all the hype.”
“You won’t leave town?” Lara questioned. She was getting anxious herself.
“Lara, I delivered you. I’d never leave until I know our little one here is safe.” He patted her tummy.
“Thank you, Dr. Roman.” Lara sat up and put her arms out for a hug. “That’s why I insisted on you for my delivery.”
“Look, Seth. I don’t want to cross hairs with you, but Lara’s due around the emergence time. You should have a prep list.”
“Do you?” Seth asked rudely to the doctor.
“No, not really, but I don’t have a pregnant wife.” He slapped Lara’s knee. “Enjoy your last few months of freedom.”
***
Seth was speeding home. He was seething behind the wheel. This time, Lara filmed him.
“So... what do you think?” she asked tentatively.
“About what?”
“The cicadas, Seth. What are you going to do?”
“Do? Are you nuts? It’s just a way to generate income for the stores. How long are we really ever snowed in? Yet people strip the stores of all the processed food they can eat.”
Lara knew he was right, bu
t the cicada warning came from two credible sources: the news and her doctor. This didn’t seem like a standard northeastern snowstorm.
“Oh, hurricane’s coming,” Seth dripped with sarcasm. “It’s just a three-hour storm. It’s over before it starts.”
“Tell that to...”
“Aren’t you breastfeeding anyway? They don’t sell that in any store I know.”
“You’re still not convinced?”
“Nope. They are whipping people into a psycho frenzy. I laugh at the whole situation. Only an imbecile would take it seriously.”
“But the news said...”
“Jeez, Lara, you are so gullible. I’ve got this really nice bridge I’d like you to look at.”
Even in his condescending tone, Lara still didn’t know what to think. Stay with her husband’s ideology and not prepare, or let this so-called emergency create a panic that may never even come. The air was as frigid in the car as in the winter landscape outside.
There was silence in the car while they drove back home. Seth was ruminating. Lara never had to work for anything in her life. Everything came easy to her. Her mom was at her beck and call growing up. Her older brothers were perfect princes. One became a doctor, the other a lawyer. She got good grades, was head of the cheerleading squad in high school, and was president of Alpha Epsilon Phi in college. All Lara ever had to do was show up, and everything else fell neatly into place for her. Seth was the first person she ever had to work for.
Seth took his eyes off the road and pointed to her. “You know what’s going to happen when the ‘cee-ca-das’ arrive? Nothing! They’ve been here for millions of years and will be coming back a million more.”
Lara was still trying to come up with any excuse she could in hopes of convincing Seth to join the masses in preparing.
“We can at least stock up on some extra food,” said Lara.
“So you’re going from eating for two to eating for three?”
Whoops, the minute the words left his mouth, Seth regretted them.
“What?” Lara asked incredulously.
“Nothing,” said Seth as he slowly pulled into their driveway.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing. It was a joke gone bad.” His green eyes caressed her while he put the car in park. “You know I love you and think you’re the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I would never dream of having anyone else as my baby’s mama.”
She was annoyed with the food comment, but Lara couldn’t hold a grudge. Seth had made snide remarks so many times in the past that she was seriously immune to them. But there was no way she was letting him off that easy. She liked to torture him a little. It was her duty, especially when he was being an asshole.
He started rubbing her knee as a peace offering. “Look.” He nodded to their neighbor’s house as he pulled into their driveway. “Crazy Jimmy’s been prepping for years for the end of the world. I’ll ask him for some pointers.”
Lara turned toward him, unsure if he was just screwing with her.
“Happy?” asked Seth.
Lara knew the tone Seth used when he was serious. This time he wasn’t joking.
“All I wanted you to do is to take some responsibility,” she said softly.
“I know.” He waggled his eyebrows. “That’s why we made Valentino together.”
“I love you, Seth,” Lara added with a sigh. She did, she really did.
Seth leaned in and pecked her on the lips. Their fights never lasted for more than ten minutes. It was always better for her when he was on the defensive.
“We’re getting close to Z again. Do we really have to start the alphabet over?”
“We do until we find a name we agree on. Look at that paddleboat. That Jimmy.” They both eyed the paddleboat parked in the long driveway of their neighbor’s home. “You know he bought that in case Long Island sinks.”
“Just see if he has any news about Brood Ten. He must know something from all his prepping.”
“Fine. Give me the camera, and I’ll document what that nut job knows about the cicada doomsday. We'll see if he's been notified from the aliens that visit him.”
***
Seth stomped over to the junkyard next door. There was a crude sign that said, “Keep Out—I’m Locked and Loaded.” Seth noted the sign and sighed, “In more ways than one.”
Even though they lived in a very affluent neighborhood, this was the one public eyesore, a rundown ranch with overgrown weeds and trees. A broken lamppost with twinkling Christmas lights interspersed with barbed wire was the only decoration on the outside of the house.
No one knew if Jimmy was sacrificing cats. But the fact remained his father was a large landowner in Muttontown, the neighboring affluent village, and the unofficial mayor of the surrounding towns. If you wanted something done, he knew whom to hire. Jimmy had clout, and he didn’t give a rat’s ass what people thought about him.
It didn’t matter the season, there were always piles of decaying pine needles and brown leaves covering the lawn. The grass was overgrown. It was a jungle, by far the creepiest house in the neighborhood. The irony was that Jimmy was a landscaper by trade and a good one at that. He made damn sure whoever hired his services was going to get a beautiful, manicured lawn. However, when it came time to taking care of his own turf, Jimmy wasn’t interested.
Ever the conspiracy theorist, he believed in all the kooky news that had plagued the human existence for centuries. The Bermuda Triangle, the grassy knoll, Area 51…Jimmy knew it all and he believed it too.
His most well known conspiracy was the flu shot. He thought the CDC was injecting transmitters into each subject so they would be able to track them everywhere.
He hated the “TV government.” He knew deep down in his heart that there was a ruling elite run by Black Ops controlling everything. And of course he knew someone who worked for this “secret” government.
There were several cars of indeterminate colors parked in the gravel driveway, really in a state of sad disrepair. Bushes were neglected and snagged at Seth’s fleece. He heard a litter of kittens meowing pitifully and muttered, “I should call Hoarders and put this guy out of his misery.”
Seth moseyed to the open garage where he heard clanging. There were carcasses of broken electronics visibly cannibalized for their many parts. The place stank, of what Seth could only guess. He noticed a nice patch of marijuana growing in a pot in a small corner of the garage and chuckled, “Maybe not such a bad neighbor after all. Have to think up some sort of trade. Let’s see, Travis Bickle over here could sure use some of Lara’s homemade artichoke dip. A fair and reasonable trade.”
“What are you doing here?” Jimmy said louder than he should, bent over on one knee. Jimmy's unsightly ass crack filled Seth's vision. “You really should get a belt, Jim.”
“What? What did you say?” Without turning around, Jimmy held out a smoking joint, ever the amicable host.
“Don't mind if I do.” Seth took a toke and wondered when Lara kissed him later, would she know he and Jimmy shared more than a story about prepping?
Jimmy stood up and turned around holding a very large shotgun. He was a tall guy with cold slate eyes and a thick auburn beard that rested on his chest. His spindly legs looked too frail to hold his heavy upper torso. However thin his legs were, his arms were tree trunks with ham-fisted hands. He had thick sausage-like fingers that had a certain delicacy that belied their large size.
“You gotta be kidding me.” Seth backed away unnerved. He briefly wondered if he stepped out of Oyster Bay and onto the set of Deliverance. “Is that real?”
“Damn straight.”
“Do we need the gun, Jimmy?”
“Not for you. One of my guys threatened me after I fired his lazy ass. Gotta make sure good ole Bess is cleaned.” He rested the gun against a light blue fender. “How’s Lucy?”
Seth didn’t know who he was talking about. He wasn’t sure if Lucy was a client of Jimmy’s that Seth was supposed
to know. Racking his brain, he came up with nothing, until it finally clicked.
“You mean Lara?”
“What?” Jimmy scratched his head.
“Lucy’s fine.”
Jimmy moved to his filthy workbench. His gut was round and swollen. Guess Jimmy missed the memo about fatty liver disease, considering the fact he hadn’t been to a doctor since high school.
“I am so getting ready for this,” Jimmy explained.
“For what?”
“What’s the matter with you?” Jimmy said over his shoulder. “Haven’t you heard? They’re coming! We have to be ready.”
“What? The in-laws?”
“The infestation! You live under a rock?”
Jimmy swung around with a machete that was bigger than his arm. “You want something to eat?”
Seth thought he was going to hack off a kitten’s head and offer it to him. As he would politely decline, Jimmy would probably drink the kitten’s blood.
Jimmy yanked a piece of jerky from his pocket. “It’s delicious. Try it.”
Seth zoomed in on the linty piece of dry meat. “Jimmy, it’s full of shit from your pocket.”
“So,” he wagged the meat in front of the lens. “Let me tell you something, Seth. When you’re hungry, anything will be good enough. I should shoot you just for filming in here, but you know what, it’ll be good to have our stories documented.”
He picked at the meat between his teeth with a dirty fingernail. “Those scientists have it all wrong.”
“I knew it!” said a relieved Seth. “I absolutely knew it! I had a feeling all of this was hype.”
“It’s not millions of bugs.”
“Of course not! What idiot came up with that bullshit?”
“It’s gonna be trillions,” Jimmy said slowly.
Seth didn’t believe it.
“Trillions?” asked Seth, waiting for the punch line. He was hoping a camera crew would jump from Jimmy’s side door and say, “Surprise!”
“Trillions of those parasites messing with our infrastructure.”
Brood X: A Firsthand Account of the Great Cicada Invasion Page 4
