John Karr - Detonation Event

“Mom says she doesn’t know if she wants a crazy man in her house,” Trent said, laughing.

“Ask her what I can b-bring.” Devans closed the trunk, went to the driver’s side, and sat inside. “Cedric, b-blast the heat.”

The door closed, but Devans rolled down the window a little. “Ahhhhh. That’s better. You two must be cold by now.”

Trent shrugged. “A little.”

Gwen laughed. “Mom says bring your sanity. She’s got some hot stew for dinner, so let’s go, I’m starved!”

“What kind of wine goes with stew?” Devans asked.

“We got all that,” Trent said. “The place is just a mile or so away, sound side. Zeke’s Grocery is on the way. They can help if you really feel the need to stop.”

“I’d like to bring a little something. At least tell me what’s in the stew.”

Trent pointed in the direction of the Atlantic. “Seafood.”

“White, then.”

Twenty minutes later he landed in front of a small house on pillars that looked out over the salt marsh. There, snaking water trails lined by cord grass led to the broader channels of the intercostal waterway. On the horizon, the sun had finally broken through the clouds, and its rays illuminated a jagged path of gold up the stairs to the small balcony and front door. The paint on the faded door trim had slender flakes missing. It could use a fresh coat.

Couldn’t we all, Devans mused.

The door swung inward to reveal an attractive middle-aged woman in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Her salt-and-pepper hair was held from her face by a silver band, while the remainder spilled onto her shoulders. He barely recognized her from their holo-conversations during his quarantine on MOS-1. At that time, her face had had a default stern appearance with only glimpses of warmth when she smiled. Her hair had been pulled tightly against her head and braided behind her. The white jumpsuit and lab coat had masked an athletic body as well.

“Are you lost?” she said with a smile.

“Isn’t everyone?”

“Not all those who wander are lost.”

“Ah, Tolkien. The master.”

She inclined her head.

“Word is you allow crazy old guys from space in here. Is that true?”

“Depends on what you’re carrying.”

“Right now it’s white wine and a twelve-pack of beer.” He held the bottle up by the neck by way of demonstration.

Karen Wagner arched a brow. “Nothing else?”

Devans had to clear his throat. She hadn’t exhibited this kind of boldness up on the moon. Granted, it hadn’t been a social setting. “Uh… well, a reduced body temperature thanks to the ocean?”

She laughed at his uncertainty. “The beverages’ll do, though I lean more toward wine than beer.” She opened the storm door and took the wine bottle. “The heat of the house will help with the other. For now.”

With a quick smile at his slack-jawed expression, she turned and walked past the couch and lounge chairs. Three shell lamps provided adequate but subdued light. The ceiling fan rotated counterclockwise to help circulate the heat. Karen spoke over her shoulder as she entered the adjoining kitchen area.

“The children were just finishing cleaning themselves up. You’ve got time to catch a shower if they left you any hot water.”

Devans stood rather dumbfounded in the foyer, then closed the door behind him and followed her path. The warmth enveloped him as he set the twelve-pack on the kitchen counter. The smell of shrimp and scallops and bread made his stomach growl.

Footsteps made the wooden floor creak a bit.

“Hey, iceman! You made it,” Trent Wagner said, coming out of the hallway and seeing Devans at the kitchen bar. He wore a sweatshirt and blue jeans and sand loafers.

They fist-bumped.

Dressed like her brother, Gwen peered over Trent’s shoulder, her hair glistening wet in combed rows. Her fist came out for the same bump. He noticed the painted nails.

“Thanks for the invite, everyone,” Devans said. He looked at Karen in the kitchen as she worked a skillet, then to the younger Wagners. “The guy you two found in the hallway on the moon sends his regrets.”

Gwen smiled. “He didn’t look all that fun anyway.”

Trent took Devans’ bag. “C’mon, I’ll show your room. We did save a few drops of hot water for you.”

Conversation flowed before, during, and after dinner. Devans rose and collected plates.

“Don’t do that,” Karen said.

Trent rose, but Devans held a hand out. “I’m the number one dish-slinger this side of Alpha Centauri, kid. Just a little thanks is all. Besides, I’m due for another brew.”

After dinner, they took their drinks and sat on the back balcony and watched the horizon over the water slowly fade to purple. The stars came out as night filled in like a cosmic tide. The younger Wagners soon departed to go out with friends.

“This is a great place,” Devans said.

“Old, but we like it.” Karen sipped her wine.

“Can’t thank you enough for the hospitality,” Devans said, glancing from the distant lights of houses over on the mainland and the stars above them. A red dot drew his attention. Mars. It was so far away now. The events of the past year could have happened to someone else and he’d just seen the movie.

“Glad you could make it,” Karen Wagner said. “I wanted to thank you again for helping my son survive his idiocy in that tunnel on Mars.”

“No need for thanks. Trent and Gwen saved my ass on Mars, too.”

They sat in silence, gazed upon the night and sipped their drinks.

“Sorry about the town hall, Ry,” Karen said. “Like everyone, I watched it on one of the feeds.”

Devans nodded. “Fres was the best. And I thought Nuro was, too.” He gazed out at the lights, then at the darkness between the stars. “One for two. Fres wouldn’t have thought much about my wallowing in it, though.”

“Human reaction varies,” she said. “Logic is often subservient to feelings. It’s not right or wrong, it’s just the mind coping.”

Devans took a sip of beer. “Agreed.”

“SCONA didn’t help much, I take it?” Karen Wagner asked.

“Kept me on the payroll. Guess that’s something. I almost quit a hundred times.”

“What would you do?”

“Don’t know. Private piloting. Maybe come back here to Earth and take up farming.”

“Maybe it’s difficult to release the tether to space.”

“Yeah, maybe. Though it feels good here now.” He looked over at her. “I don’t want to hold you up if you had plans.” The shivers started from nowhere, and he zipped the jacket up to his chin.

“This is all the plan I have,” she said, pulling a strand of hair from her face and threading it behind her ear. She rose and reached for a bottle of red she had placed on the table. She refilled her glass and grasped a fresh bottle of beer. “Ready for another?”

“Absolutely.” His hand trembled a bit he raised it.

Her brow arched. “Once the body takes on that kind of cold, it’s susceptible. There’s no wind, but no heat, either. We should go inside.”

“Don’t have this kind of v-view inside.” He smiled and wasn’t wholly successful in keeping his teeth from chattering.

His hand trembled on the beer bottle. She stood, pressed her hand against his. The warmth of her flowed into him. He placed his other hand around hers. She bent and her lips were warm on his own. Soon her body banished the cold altogether.

Devans opened his eyes to a narrow line of light falling across a dresser and mirror better suited for the late twentieth century. Not that he minded; he determined it was perfect for the room as he raised his head from the pillow. The glowing line came from the gap where the door had been pulled nearly shut.