by Vi Grim
'Nel,' I add. 'Thanks for saving me.'
She doesn't say anything but squeezes my hand and gives me a cuddle.
33
I start worrying about Earth. I'm sposed to be looking after it. Zeus said to do nothing but I do feel a bit responsible. Like, I didn't even look at it or spare it a thought for over a year. I make a cup of tea; get myself comfortable on the sofa and with a click of my fingers the worm appears on the front lawn. It's about time I checked up on the people I care about.
Dad is sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. He's greyer and balder, looks thin and drawn and has worry lines.
He looks up at me, as if he knows I'm there, then shrugs his shoulders and goes back to his paper.
The headline on the front page reads, Killer Storm breeches Dutch Dykes 100,000 Dead, not very cheery. I walk round behind Dad and sit on the kitchen stool and read the paper over his shoulder. After lingering a long moment on page 3, he turns the page, Famine in Africa. As the pages turn I realise just how bad things are; Reactor Meltdown, Nuclear War in Korea, European Union Disintegrating, Civil War in America, UK Economy Collapse, Virus Knocks out Power Grid, and Supertanker Aground in Cornwall.
'Anything in the paper today, Dear?' asks Mum, coming into the room.
'Not really,' says Dad, 'Just the usual. It says there's a nasty bug going around.'
Mum has greyed and looks terribly thin, 'It might be what Toby's got; he's got a temperature and has been throwing up all morning.'
Mum shakes as she pours herself a cup of tea, spilling some on the bench.
I hear Toby sobbing, so go to see him. He's really sick. Even I can tell that. His breath is short, he has a temperature and he's bleeding from his nose. I rest my hand on his forehead and he looks up. I'm sure he can see me because he smiles weakly.
'I'll look after you Toby,' I say.
He closes his eyes.
'I'll go looking for food,' says Dad.
'Good luck,' says Mum, and I hear her giving him a kiss and the door clicks shut.
Vinny's face appears in front of me.
'Mummy! Vinny's climbed up the thingy,' shouts Lilly.
I jump up and catch Vinny's leg just as he topples into the worm. I don't want to be losing him into another dimension, not today.
I click my fingers to get rid of the worm and teleport up to see Pollux.
'Toby's dying,' I say, trying not to panic.
'No problem,' says Pollux, 'He'll be up here soon. He'll be in quarantine in the hospital for a couple of weeks.'
What a relief. 'Thank you, Pollux.' I give him a big kiss and get back down to sort my kids out.
I can't wait to see Toby. The two weeks takes forever. Time, which has been on fast-forward the last few years, suddenly goes in slow motion. I visit the slugs whenever I can and look down on Earth. Things are bad, really bad, like all the good that has been happening since Petra defeated Ariella has been undone and there are evil forces at work. There's got to be more than a bit of global warming and a weak dollar causing all this. But how? Has Petra turned evil?
I have the zinodes build another cottage next to mine, looking out to sea. I think we might be needing it.
When Pollux calls to say Toby's better, I go in alone. He's never seen me; Mum and Dad probably don't even talk about me much.
I'm almost scared to open the door to his room. When I get up courage, I go in and stand at the foot of his bed and we look at each other. He has the same blond hair and sparkling blue eyes as I had when I was eight. We look at each other for a long time, then he simply says, 'Emily.'
He knows.
I borrow a wheelchair and push him back over the hill to my place. We don't speak. I'm sure he's still weak and there must be a lot to take in without me yabbering. When we arrive home I sit him on the sofa on the veranda where he can see the view.
Vinny comes out and says, 'Who dat?'
'Uncle Toby.'
Jesus doesn't have his birthday this year and new Christmas is a very subdued affair. The Camilleans don't know what is happening on Earth but we don't feel like celebrating.
I spend long hours up with the slugs watching. On top of the droughts and floods that are hitting everywhere, a killer computer virus has knocked out the Internet and computer systems around the world. People are starving
The only people who seem to be virtually unaffected are the Kalahari Bushmen and other remote tribes. Castor pulls up an image of a bushman. He wears nothing but a pair of battered old shorts and has a spear and bow and arrow slung over his shoulder.
'I saved this last week,' says Castor. 'I love it.'
We follow the bushman as he pussyfoots through the dry grassland. He's silent as a cat as he stalks some gazelle. He shoots one with his bow and arrow then sprints after it and finishes it off with his spear. He pulls out his cell phone and taps out a text, Gazelle. Put the pot on. Back soon XX. He pushes send and when the phone shows a No Signal message, he climbs up on top of a rock and tries again, holding the phone above his head to try and pick up the signal.
'Stupid thing,' he says, and throws it away, slings the gazelle around his shoulders and trots off across the dry grassland.
'Nice to see not everyone is suffering,' I say. 'How's Ijju?'
'She's doing fine,' says Castor, zooming in on Algeria. 'Things aren't easy, but they're surviving.'
As the screen zooms in I see a heavily fortified compound with houses and fields inside. Soldiers patrol along the top of a rough wall that protects it and there's bunkers with rockets and antiaircraft guns.
'Saleem is looking after his people. He has plenty of water, camels and supplies and has shut himself off from the outside world. Here's Azulay,' he says looking inside a machine gun nest. He’s sitting with Yuba and Zam playing cards. They’re dressed in army fatigues and look healthy and happy.
'What about Ijju?' I ask.
'She's fine.' Castor pans across to a mud poo house. It's got a bit of plaster missing and a few recent bullet holes, but with the laundry flapping cheerfully in the breeze and a couple of kids playing outside, it looks a happy little home. Ijju is lying on the sofa having a siesta. As always, she looks beautiful. Azulay is such a lucky man having the two of us.
Next time I visit, Castor has a new screen.
'There were six and a half billion of you guys six months ago,' says Castor, flashing up his census screen, 'Now there's one and a quarter billion and counting down.'
'What!' I scream, 'You mean to say that five billion people have died?'
'Yes,' says Castor, 'It's not all bad, look at these figures.'
As the number next to Teroids counts down alarmingly quickly, most of the other numbers are going up. 'There's a bit of a delay before populations expand,' says Castor, 'but you can get the general idea that while people are dying off, just about everything else is flourishing. Dolphins were at twenty two million and are now up to twenty five; rabbits have gone from one billion to three, they're quick breeders; tuna from eight hundred million to a billion; locusts from one hundred billion to two hundred billion; and last but certainly not least, look at the slug population. We've gone from ninety nine million to one hundred and fifty million. Aren't we doing well?'
'So what you are saying is that the people dying off might be a good thing. It could even be the power of The Book working for good.'
'Yes, exactly. Look at the slug population, we're on a roll, we might take over your planet soon.'
'Ooh yuck!' I say without thinking.
'Careful what you say. We're got sensitive feelings, you know.'
34
I'm worried about Mum and Dad. I'm not going to wait for them to die.
Toby keeps asking about them, 'When can they come to heaven?'
'Toby, this is not heaven.'
'But when can they come?'
'Soon,' I say, not wanting to commit to anything.
When the kids are asleep, I get the worm and have a look. Things are bad in Sheffield. It's like one of th
ose movies when everything has gone to pot. There's cars and trucks stopped randomly on the roads and those that are moving have steel plates protecting the sides and a massive bumpers at the front. They drive slowly dodging burnt out cars and corpses. Packs of dogs roaming the streets, eating anything they can find, and armed men run from shadow to shadow. The only sounds are sporadic bursts of gunfire and the birds singing. The birds are really happy. At least someone is.
Our house is gone, just a burnt out shell remains
I find Mum and Dad, Danny and Julie in a basement. They're skinny and Dad looks gaunt, but they are alive and reasonably heath. They have a good supply of tinned food and water and Dad has a pistol. Annie's mum and a couple of our neighbours are with them too. They're playing gin runny by candlelight. The flickering light makes their gaunt faces look ghostlike and casts dark shadows against the walls, which jiggle about like demons waiting to strike.
They’re okay but they're not going to live for long. I should wait for them to die or get killed, but the rules have changed now, nobody is counting bodies anymore.
I watch the cards. Danny thinks he's going to win; he has most of his cards down and just needs a two to win. He picks up a king and throws it back out, not wanting to carry any high cards in his hand. Annie's mum picks it up. 'Gin rummy,' she shouts.
I click my fingers.
Click!
They tumble out of the darkness into my living room. I flick on the light. Dad points his revolver at me, firing a shot that skims my shoulder and shatters the window behind me. Danny crouches low holding a carving knife. I spin across the room, knocking the knife out of Danny's hand then back flip over the sofa kung fuing the gun clear of Dad's hand. It fires a shot knocking a big chunk down from the ceiling and filling the room with dust and plaster.
Toby comes running in, stops for a second to take in what's happening then shouts, 'Mum!' and gives Mum the biggest hug.
Everyone else stands immobile. The dust settles and people arrive, Annie and Janice and all the kids. Annie screams and embraces her mum.
Dad catches my eye and a big smile grows across his face. 'Emily!' he says opening his arms wide to welcome me.
'Heaven?' he asks.
'Hell no!' I say.
I've been waiting so long to say that!
35
I forget completely about Earth for a few weeks. Mum and Dad are here, that's all that matters. They're delighted with their new house and somewhat surprised by the number of grandchildren I've produced.
'Who's the dad and when are we going to meet him,' demands Mum.
'Not telling and you're probably never going to meet him. He's a survivor.'
'So he's on Earth then?'
'Maybe. Not telling.'
'He is, he is,' says Mum gleefully, slowly working her way towards the truth.
We walk the kids to school and have fluffy cappuccinos in the Italian's cafe. Then I walk them around Kastela's magnificent walls and we have lunch in a fish restaurant down by the port.
I'm not quite sure what to tell them. Do I give them the same disinformation and half-truths that we tell everyone else or do I tell them the truth about God and Jesus? Do I tell them about me looking after Earth? I better not, everyone's dead. It's probably my fault.
I say as little as possible and try not to teleport in front of them. I threaten Nelly that I'll cancel her birthday if she does. She wriggles her cute little nose and smiles at me, then clicks her fingers and is gone. If she's ended up on Kojiki, I hope she gets eaten!
Jesus has softened to popular demand and now there's a bus service around the asteroid. It runs Monday to Saturday then on Sundays there's no traffic, it's a day for biking. The cycle clubs get out early and travel in great packs, taking over cafes as they make a tour of the island. Families head out later, usually for a ride to the beach or the next town.
Zwingly’s Sunday afternoon jam session has moved to Azziz’s and there's a shuttle service that brings the Zwinglians across and gets then back again at the end of the evening. Posters appear around the island on Fridays to say who'll be playing. Surprisingly it's Beethoven and his composer mates who pull the biggest crowds.
The great thing with the buses is that the kids can get to the other villages to play soccer. Mum goes with Lilly and River to cheer them on in Kastela and Dad and me go on the bus with Nelly and her team. Danny, Julie and Toby stay home playing computer games; old habits die hard!
As we wind our way along the narrow roads and climb the hill to Deia, I point things out to Dad and tell him about some of my adventures around Camillo, of climbing to the top of Mt Ijju and sailing across the ocean with Zeus in our boat.
'Who's Zeus?' he asks.
'Zeus is God,' I say. 'I haven't seen him in a while.'
'Young lady,' says Dad smiling, 'you've got some explaining to do.'
'I spoze I do, but I'm not telling you now,' I say, poking him in the ribs to head the conversation into less tricky waters.
The match is wonderful, we scream and yell and cheer Nelly's team on.
There's a nasty moment just before half time when a slimeball crashes to ground in the middle of the pitch. The kids are well drilled and run their fastest in different directions weaving and ducking as they go, then dive into bunkers and drain pipes. The slimeball comes straight at Dad and me. The look of horror on his face is priceless. I grab his hand and take a deep breath ready to teleport out.
Plumph! Blam!
A laser roasts the slimeball, quickly followed by a small torpedo that blasts it apart. Bits of smouldering slimeball go in all directions, plastering all over us. It gives me the creeps and an involuntary shudder goes through my body.
Dad picks a still flaming piece off my jacket, blows out the flames and takes a bite. 'Delicious!' he says.
I'm glad he likes them. I don't want to start reliving my encounters with slimeballs, so just say. 'They're good aren't they?'
Play stops while everyone feasts on slimeball, then the players get back on the field and with a peep on the referee's whistle the match starts again. Nelly's team get absolutely trashed by the sporty Africans but it's such fun they don't mind losing, not too much anyway.
Mum's complaining. It didn't take her long to start.
'The tea, it just doesn't taste right. We need a decent teapot.'
'I've got one,' I say. 'We just have to find it.'
It's a bit far for the little ones, so Annie and her mum look after Vinny and Izzy. Nelly and Lilly take the day off school and come with us. I call Trigger and he arrives dragging his feet and grumbling, thinking it's for more pony rides. Mum jumps up onto him and off he goes at a canter up the beach. I don't think Mum has ever ridden a horse before and bounces around and screams a lot. Trigger is kind to her and somehow manages to keep her on board, despite her best attempts to fall off. Tat and Negrita come along as well. Negrita chases ahead then lies in wait and tries to ambush him by surprise. She's quick and gets the better of him most of the time. I'd love to let Enzo out too.
We stop at Azziz's for an organic bacon and egg breakfast. I see Jesus out surfing and realise that they haven't met him yet. I give him a cat whistle and he rides the next wave into the beach. They haven't met any anodes before and back away from the lizard like alien.
'It's Jesus,' I say. 'Don't be scared. He's my friend.'
Mum looks like she's going to pee herself. I give Jesus a wink and he turns into human form, flowing robe, halo and all.
Mum and Dad fall to their knees, Danny, Julie and Toby sneer, pretending not to be impressed. They do it so well that I make a note that I must take them to Kojiki, just to see their expressions when we meet some raptors.
'Mum, Dad,' I shout. 'It's only Jesus. Show a bit of respect and give him a hug.'
They get up and nervously embrace him. His good vibes rub off immediately and soon they're having a brandy in the bar. Jesus comes with us, fascinated to meet my parents and treating them with a reverence that's almost emb
arrassing.
As we splash up the stream, Mum pulls Trigger to a halt and whispers, 'Is he the Dad?'
'Is he black?'
'No.'
'Their dad is someone really special,' I say, as my heart gives a bit of a pang. 'Well to me anyway.'
'He'd better come out of hiding soon,' says Mum.
There's a national park that covers the mountains and the prairie then follows the stream down to the ocean. Its luminous water is kept pure and clear and lives up to its reputation as the best water in the Galaxy.
'It's like drinking pure velvet,' says Mum. 'You ought to bottle it.'
'We do,' I say proudly.
'Where did this asteroid come from?' asks Dad.
'God created it,' I say. 'He did a good job, didn't he? He says it's his best.'
'When will we meet him? asks Mum, peering down from Trigger.
'He's off his...er...um-' I stammer. 'I mean, he's off the asteroid at the moment. You'll have to wait.'
We follow the stream up through the lemon and orange groves and the forest until we reach the prairie then head off through the long grass. Trigger can't help himself and gallops off ahead with Mum, who for all the screeches she makes, appears to be getting the hang of it. We walk for about half an hour until we're in the middle of the prairie.
'Whoa,' I shout. 'This is the spot.'
We stop.
'The teapot is here,' I declare. Not quite as sure of myself as I sound.
'Where?' asks Toby.
'It’s buried in the grass. Look around.'
We look, we rummage through the grass, we stomp around with our bare feet and close our eyes and think teapot.
If anyone can find it, it's Tat. 'Any ideas, Tat,' I ask.
'No, I'm beaten,' he says.
'Do you give up?' asks Pollux using God's voice.
My family start and look to the heavens.
'We give up,' I say. 'Where is it?'
There's a rustling in the grass at my feet and a teapot rises up slowly. I catch it, and give it to Mum, 'There's your teapot Mum.'
She lifts the lid and looks in. 'Yuck,' she screams dropping it. 'It's full of slugs.'
