by Lex Baker
Heaven in a Matchbox
By Lex Baker
Published by JMS Books LLC
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2018 Lex Baker
ISBN 9781634865456
Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com
Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
All rights reserved.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
* * * *
Heaven in a Matchbox
By Lex Baker
Normally, though not tonight, Regan liked the world. She liked the smell of a cold wind in the air and the black branches of the trees swaying in the breeze. She liked the crispy nights and the foggy mornings that smelled of wet ash. She liked it when she lit a fire and they spent the day inside, talking or playing a board game. The whole world was around the two of them, the whole world was in their flat on the second floor. Yes, the whole world was their flat on the second floor.
It had taken a long time for things to become the way they were. In the beginning, it was just Regan and the Silence. After They came, after the inferno and the hysteria and the chaos, it was silent for a very long time. An eternity, it seemed, because who needed the exact measurement of time when there was no one around to keep in time with? It got dark and it got light again, over and over again. In the beginning, there were words left; tons of words, buckets full of words. But as the dark and the light came and went, the words left Regan’s head until she couldn’t remember anything. Not even who she was, not even what she was. She felt the desire to eat and to drink, and she ate and drank what she could find without knowing what it was. She moved around aimlessly, staying wherever she was when tired, regardless of whether it was pitch black or blazing bright. She moved from cities to towns from hills to valleys until she didn’t know where the buildings came from or who had made the charred trees and the empty subway tunnels
But after years and years of the Silence, there was Emmeline.
Emmeline, who was the most beautiful thing Regan had ever encountered, gave her words again. She showed Regan that life was not silent, not always anyway, and she told her with great patience of what had happened and what was happening to them still. Regan learned everything all over again, and as she did, very slowly and erratically bits of her memory came back. The memories didn’t stay, but they brightened Regan’s world when they arrived and brought with them meaning and order. It made her infinitely happy to remember something and then be able to draw in the ash on the ground and say, This is what coffee looks like in a paper cup with my name on it!
And then she would listen to Emmeline tell her all about coffee and paper cups and why people had thought these things were so important in the past and why they had neither of those items now.
Emmeline explained the world to her.
Emmeline was her world.
* * * *
That was the reason for Regan’s disconcertment tonight: Emmeline wasn’t there. She had gone for a Treasure Walk by herself, something she did when she wanted to think or be alone or just not be with Regan. Of course, not being with one another meant being all alone, for such was the state of the world that there was no other life in it anymore.
It was harmonious enough at supper, except that Regan spat out her spoonful of food.
Ugh!, she declared, I’m bored of this food!
Emmeline pretended not to hear.
Regan reached for the tin can and read the label. Chicken of the Sea Chunky White Tuna In Water. The writing was squidged around a woman with yellow hair and no legs. Regan knew then that it was all made up. There was no such thing as yellow hair.
She announced, We have been eating this for years and years!
Well, we found a pallet of it two days ago, remember? said Emmeline patiently. We eat whatever tinned food we find.
Regan announced that she was fed up with tinned food. Emmeline said, Tough, because tinned was the way food came these days. Regan still refused to go on eating. Emmeline pulled the face she pulled when she was tired, though it was hard to tell sometimes whether Emmeline was tired for lack of sleep or tired of the situation, of life, or, well, of Regan. Then she announced she’d go for a Treasure Walk by herself. Regan didn’t want her to leave, she complained that they had planned to read Lovecraft together, and then Emmeline said Regan didn’t even like Lovecraft, and then Regan asked what Emmeline needed to go on a walk for when there was nothing to see out there except blackness and death and chaos and bloody tinned food, and then Emmeline just stared at her, and then she left, and now Regan was all alone.
So she crouched on the sofa, wrapped up in Emmeline’s night gown, and pouted in silence for exactly two-thousand twenty-seven heartbeats.
I have sat with you for two-thousand twenty-seven heartbeats, she told the sofa.
By way of a reply, the charred piece of furniture left a black smear on the gown.
Then Regan read Lovecraft out loud, but it made her feel more miserable. She missed someone telling her to shut up and get on with it when she stopped to comment on the strangeness of the story. Then she went upstairs, stood on the bed, and played the violin until the sun turned orange.
When she came back down to set fire to the kitchen table, she thought she heard something.
Impossible, she told the coat rack. When They came, They took away all the noises. They made so much sound that it drowned out everything else; consequently, when they went away again, there was no sound left in the world. Consequently, there could only be quiet.
And yet there was a noise.
Regan jumped to the window that overlooked the long, wide street and yanked the planks open that covered the hole in the wall. There was the noise again. It was something shouting in the distance. Or maybe so close by that it only sounded as if it were very distant. There was life out there! She wasn’t alone! There was a woman out there with yellow hair and tinned food and she was shouting for help. Wasn’t she? Regan racked her brain. It must be something else. There was a memory that knocked on her mind, the memory of a kiss she had shared with someone not so long ago. The woman had blazing hair like a sunset and she had fiery eyes and freckles on her nose and her name was Emmeline. Emmeline! The name brought with it a flood of memories.
I don’t live alone, she told the fire pit they had set up in the middle of the room, I almost forgot Emmeline!
She took off the nightgown and ran downstairs. Then she rushed upstairs again to put the nightgown back on. It was cold, and she had forgotten that she was naked.
* * * *
Regan followed the voice through a maze of streets until she found a beautiful woman who sat crouched on the ground because she was stuck to the pavement. The beautiful woman cursed.
Where were you? she shouted.
; Regan realized that Emmeline wasn’t stuck to the pavement but to a hole in it. Her foot had ended up in the gutter for some funny reason. She laughed, because it really was funny.
Help me! Emmeline said, Unstick me!
Regan squatted down in front of her. She wanted to know how long Emmeline had been out here. She dimly remembered an argument over tinned Lovecraft, although she might be mixing things up again. Her mind was not very helpful; information got muddled often.
A bloody long time! Emmeline chided, I’ve been shouting for ages. Didn’t you hear me?
Regan felt a pang of guilt in her chest. If she hadn’t played the violin, she might have heard Emmeline earlier. By way of an apology she began to unstick the foot from the gutter. It took skill and nimble fingers, neither of which she had. The cold made her hands stiff and her fingers didn’t always do what her brain told them to do.
I was playing the violin, she explained.
You always do, Emmeline replied; then she asked why Regan was naked under the nightgown.
I didn’t notice, Regan admitted. That explained why she was feeling so cold.
It’s winter, said Emmeline. You should not go outside without proper clothes.
Emmeline inhaled deeply and then, without warning, she slumped forward until her forehead came to rest on Regan’s shoulder. Regan carefully wrapped her arms around her to hold on to her. When Emmeline was close to her, Regan could focus; she could remember. She recalled the argument now, and how much she loved Emmeline, and she almost almost remembered life before Them. But then the thoughts fluttered away from her again like flakes of ash in a gust of wind. They remained like this for an eternity, then Regan went back to freeing Emmeline’s foot from the gutter. Eventually, it did come loose.
Carefully Regan helped Emmeline to stand and find her balance. Emmeline still held on to her tightly. She turned the injured foot in all directions.
It seems fine, she eventually decided.
It had better, said Regan, There are no doctors.
I know, confessed Emmeline quietly, I was scared I would need one.
What happened? Regan asked.
Emmeline took Regan’s hand and mumbled something about watching the stars instead of the street.
You must not watch the stars! chided Regan, All evil comes from there!
But Emmeline told her that they must watch them, so they would know when it would happen again, and that she was sorry she had missed tonight’s violin concert.
Regan didn’t know what to say to that apart from, I messed up the bed, and I nearly set fire to the kitchen table.
Emmeline straightened up and rubbed her face. She smiled weakly.
I’m glad it wasn’t the other way around, she said.
They looked at each other. It was cold, especially on Regan’s neck since Emmeline had let go of her, but she felt like she could stand there for the rest of the night. Emmeline was orange in the face from the sinking sun.
Go on a Treasure Walk with me! Regan demanded.
Now?
Yes. Now.
Regan, I’ve just been out, and it was pointless.
And I’ve just been in, and it was boring!
Emmeline sighed. She mumbled, Alright, but only if you put some clothes on.
Regan let Emmeline take her home to put on proper outside clothes, but she held on to the thought of the Treasure Walk; she did not want to forget.
* * * *
Once the two of them were outside again, Regan took Emmeline’s arm. The right one, for in her left hand Emmeline carried a torch. Soon it would be dark, everything would turn into black fog. The torch shone their way and kept the fog away from them. Regan did not want to come too close to the fire. Emmeline said fire could be very bad. Her wonderful Emmeline, whose thoughts never got muddled and who was the most precious creature there was. The only creature there was. Had there ever been other creatures? Regan wondered. Had it not always been Emmeline and her? No, she remembered. Before Emmeline there had been Silence.
Tell me about before, Emmeline! she said. It was quiet around them. The buildings were nothing but shadows; they squatted in the night like forgotten Gods.
You know all about before, answered Emmeline, You just have to concentrate and remember.
I know. But it is much nicer when you remember it for me.
So Emmeline told her about life before Them, again. Computers and televisions, and cars and coffee shops, and fresh food and games that weren’t on a board but in a telephone. When people wanted to go from one place to another, Emmeline told her, they didn’t have to walk if they didn’t want to; they got on an aeroplane that would fly them to where they wanted to be. The aeroplane took them up into the air. It was beautiful up there, Regan could imagine it to herself now, it was beautiful up there where the clouds lived. It must have been funny to look down from there, she mused, and see the buildings and other people from very far away; tiny creatures. Creatures, she let Emmeline tell her, like birds, who also flew, and dogs and dinosaurs. Creatures had lived everywhere in abundance. Regan made Emmeline describe those magical beasts to her, but it was hard to concentrate on all the words that had little meaning to her, like fur and tail and wings.
And something else had existed in abundance, something called friends.
Regan remembered her only friend before Emmeline: Silence.
The Silence was not your friend, Emmeline said with a quiet voice, The Silence was bad. It turned you into what you are now.
What am I now? Regan wanted to know.
She stopped to look at Emmeline in the glow of the torch. When their eyes met they held each other’s gaze for a long time. Emmeline had a look on her face that meant she was growing sad.
In a nutshell? Emmeline finally said, You are Regan, and I love you.
Regan was glad when Emmeline found her and rescued her from the Silence so that they could love each other.
And anyway, you rescued me, too, said Emmeline as they continued their walk, The Silence was with me, too.
Regan nodded. We rescued each other, she stated.
Emmeline made a sound that Regan recognized as confirmation. For the rest of the walk they chatted about what they saw in the shadows. There was no fear, for what was there to fear in an empty world? Only emptiness itself. And the Silence, perhaps. Surely it was still there, wanting so desperately to return to them. Regan would never let the Silence return to them. She would guard Emmeline and herself from it.
* * * *
The moon was shining furiously when they came home after their Treasure Walk. They giggled their way upstairs, shushing each other for no reason but the enjoyment of making long shhh sounds. They were both in high spirits from their company and the joy they found in each other.
Holy cow, Regan! It’s freezing in here! Emmeline exclaimed when she entered the living room.
Regan hurried to put the planks back in front of the windows again.
Can you still smell petrol? she asked, sniffing carefully.
Emmeline looked at her.
Petrol? she repeated as if she didn’t believe it. She went into the kitchen to look at the mess in it.
You soaked the kitchen table in petrol?
I wanted to set fire to it, but then I was interrupted by a voice. Didn’t I tell you?
Yes, you did, but I thought some cooking had run out of control! Or you were exaggerating! Regan…why?
Regan took off her coat and flung it on the floor. She walked up to Emmeline to stand beside her. The kitchen did look a mess, what with the petrol puddles on the table and the floor. The liquid had stirred up the ash and together they had formed smelly black ponds. Someone would have to clean it up later.
She didn’t realize that Emmeline was looking at her until Emmeline repeated, Why, Regan?
I was bored.
What if something had happened to you?
Watching Emmeline, Regan noticed that her voice was soft but her eyes were not. Something had hardened in them. Some
thing that made Regan feel like the ground she was standing upon was turning to petrol as well. Careful now, no sparks must fly!
Nothing happened, Regan replied and shrugged it off. She didn’t know how to respond to this version of Emmeline, she wanted the mood to be as it was a few minutes ago. But it was gone. Emmeline’s eyes flared up with anger.
Yeah, but what if? You stupid woman! You could have gotten yourself hurt. Or killed! You could have burned down the entire house!
Emmeline’s voice grew louder with every sentence as a kind of bottled up frustration she had held inside herself gushed out of her.
I don’t believe it! she went on, You’d just kill yourself and incinerate the whole rest of the world all over again without even thinking twice about it!
And with that she turned around and stomped upstairs. The last thing Regan heard was the sound of their bedroom door slamming shut.
Regan remained in the kitchen. She looked at the petrol puddles. She saw the box of matches on the windowsill where she had put it, though she didn’t know why. She didn’t understand Emmeline’s reaction. Regan had made fire in the past, she knew what she was doing. And the worst thing that could have happened, admittedly, was that she might have ended up in hospital with second degree burns.
Oh.
There weren’t any doctors in the hospitals anymore. It was funny, she thought and laughed a little, how she did remember some things clearly and others not without Emmeline’s help. Like doctors, but not coffee shops. Like going to university, but not going to school. Like how to play a violin, but not to wear warm clothes in winter.
* * * *
When Regan crept into their room, Emmeline was sitting on the bed, fully clothed. She was staring at the duvet. It was blue with yellow swirls on it and it was very comfortable. Regan was uncertain of what to do, so she simply stood in the open door and waited for inspiration to strike.
I’m sorry I yelled at you, Emmeline whispered, Which doesn’t mean that you didn’t mess up, just that my reaction was blown out of proportion.
They were silent for twelve heartbeats.
