by Connor Mccoy
“Hey, you son of a bitch, where’s my party invitation?” Tran asked.
Tom licked the inside of his mouth with his tongue. “Must have got lost in the mail.”
“The apocalypse just happened. There is no mail service, you moron!” Tran replied.
Finally, Tom just cracked. He burst out laughing. Tran followed, and then the two men hugged.
“Doc, you’re back! Everything went fine in Middleton?” Tom looked over Tran’s shoulder. “You even brought company.”
Tran stretched out his arm to the crowd behind him. They were all of Asian descent, mostly young, a collection of young adults, teenagers and pre-teens.
“Thomas Criver, this is my family. Nieces, nephews, my brothers and sisters.” He pointed to a few elderly couples behind them. “And their parents as well. Three generations.”
“It’s great to meet you all,” Tom said.
Cheryl pushed Tom aside. “Tom, who’s…hey!” She quickly hugged Tran. “Doctor Tran! And I see you brought your family?”
Tran nodded. “I said I wanted to bring my family here to live. As of today, we’re your new across-the-street neighbors. And other families have arrived as well.”
“I’ll be damned,” Tom said.
“I only brought everybody by so you could meet them. We won’t impose on your party,” Tran said.
“Are you kidding?” Tom pushed the front door all the way open. “Get in here! You’re staying for the party.”
Tran turned to his kin. “See? I told you he was a pushover.”
Cheryl doubled over with laughter, while Tom laughed so hard he started coughing.
Tom Criver lowered his binoculars. “Damn. They’re going up like crazy over there.”
“What?” asked Cheryl.
Standing a few steps from the backyard fence, Tom handed Cheryl the binoculars. “Take a look.”
Humoring him, Cheryl gazed through the eyepieces at the view past the line of houses that ran down their neighborhood. Off in the distance, a set of new wooden house frames were being erected.
Lowering the binoculars, Cheryl counted, “four…five…they’re building five houses over there.”
“And that’s just that street over there. I talked to Obie yesterday. Three more are going up at the end of Elmwood Street, and two more near the fishing shop. Edgar thinks we may have twenty homes going up right now.”
Cheryl handed the binoculars back to Tom. “Amazing.” She glanced back at the house. Nadia was outside with some of the girls, plus Melanie, who once again had come over to play. Sam, Dominick, Fred and Terry were playing football with Rio and Juan.
“I can’t believe how tall they’re all getting,” Cheryl said softly.
Tom nodded. Change in their town wasn’t just of the man-made variety. “By the way, I think you saw Lauren yesterday. Did they give us any news on Junior?”
Cheryl chuckled. “Karen’s little boy is not Junior!”
“Hey, this town is getting so full of kids I can’t remember their names,” Tom replied.
“Arthur,” Cheryl said, “His name is Arthur. Arthur Cooper. Arthur Luis Cooper.”
“Okay, okay, I get it. Trust me, it’s hammered into my skull.” Tom hung the binoculars around his neck. “But what about Jamie? Did he— ”
“He saw him.” Cheryl spoke a little softer. “Jamie can see things mostly close up, but not for long distances…” Shaking her head, she pushed her hand forward. “Lauren isn’t sure how much better he’ll get.”
“If he can watch his boy grow up, that’ll probably be all he ever wanted.” Tom hovered over Cheryl, wondering how it would be if his sight had been taken from him. To never see his children grow up would be horrific. He couldn’t imagine it.
Indeed, the sight of his wife and kids renewed his strength daily. Cheryl had recovered well from the disease that nearly took her life a full year ago. Her once sunken cheeks were full again, and her body had regained the weight it lost from the illness. Still, to his eyes she looked a little older than before. He had seen it with Nadia as well. The disease had not left without consequence.
Cheryl then lifted a finger to Tom’s sideburn and grinned. “Your sideburn is going white.”
Tom’s eyes narrowed. “It’s the sunlight.” He knew she was telling the truth, that a tiny flick of his sideburn hair was now white, but he couldn’t resist teasing her.
The years of survival and fighting had worn on Tom Criver as well. Plus, in a few years he’d reach forty years old. He still was a physically fit man, and the years of work he was sure to put into this new life would keep him that way for a long time to come, but getting older still would be an inevitability.
Assuming I still don’t get killed by some gun-toting psycho, he thought.
“There’s always going to be something else,” Tom said.
Cheryl looked at him. “Say again?”
The former security guard turned father folded his arms. “I just was thinking how it’s never going to be this quiet. Life’s a line of calm, beautiful days, and then you get smacked with a storm. I know the past year’s been great for us, but someday we’re going to get hit with a new one.”
Cheryl nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. I remember back before the nuclear war started. I just knew things were going south and I had to get ready for it. Now, I don’t know what’s to come.” She leaned a little closer. “But I’m not afraid of it.”
Tom pulled in Cheryl for a hug. Then he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “I still wouldn’t mind growing old with you.”
“Even when my boobs get saggy and my butt goes all flabby and my face looks like a dried-up raisin?” Cheryl asked.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be in a wheelchair, drooling and pissing on myself. I won’t be able to escape from you.”
“Sounds perfect,” Cheryl replied with a laugh.
Before Tom could retort, a ball suddenly hit him on the right arm. “Whoa!” Tom and Cheryl broke apart. A soccer ball had bounced off Tom’s arm and rolled back to its thrower.
“You two are getting too mushy,” he said with a grin.
Tom pointed a hand to his chest. “Look buddy, someday you’re going to be asking me for pointers on mushiness if you want a lady.” Tom then realized he was looking further up to meet Amir’s eyes. The boy’s head had been sprouting closer and closer to Tom’s chin.
Amir picked up the ball. “You want to play some football?”
Tom pointed to his boy. “You never are going to get off that kick, are you?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so.” Tom spread his arms. “Okay, I give in. Let’s play some ‘football.’”
Indeed, life would bring storms. But storms never lasted as long as the days of light. Life would be that way, a succession of beautiful days dotted by intervals of intermittent storms.
For the people of Eagleton, it remained so for the rest of the days of all who lived there.
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