James Hunt - Broken Lines

“Mike, you don’t have to do that,” Bessie said.

Bessie had her hair done up, fresh makeup caked on her face, and that wide unnaturally forced smile you see people use when they’re pissed about something but want to hide it, and Bessie could get mad about anything.

A few years ago there was a family that moved in down the street. Their kids were in a band together and they were pretty good. They’d practice every chance they could in their garage, but Bessie managed to get a petition signed banning them from practicing because the “noise pollution” was detrimental to the neighborhood’s reputation. The family moved out a month later.

“It’s fine, Bessie,” Mike answered.

“Well, I appreciate you helping out. I think it was a great turnout, don’t you?”

“Yeah, it seems like everyone enjoyed it.”

Mike looked up and saw that she was lingering. Her arms were folded and she was squinting at him.

“Is there something else I can help you with?” Mike asked.

“It’s just that, well, I find it odd that everything isn’t working. I mean, it would be one thing if it were just the power, but our car, phones, laptops; things that aren’t plugged in aren’t working. Do you happen to know what’s going on?”

“Not really.”

“I know that you’re one of those people who… prepare, so I was just curious to hear your thoughts. You must have some idea of what’s happening, right?”

Mike changed the subject.

“We should get all of the garbage cans together, centralize the trash. It’s going to build up fast.”

Bessie flashed another forced smile.

“I’ll get Ted to round them up,” she said.

Bessie trotted off, her heels clacking against the pavement. With her back to Mike the plastic smile faded. She found her husband, Ted, cleaning his grill and holding a beer can.

“Mike knows something,” Bessie said.

“Knows about what?”

“He knows why nothing’s working. I mean they go once a month to that stupid cabin of theirs in Ohio practicing their survival skills. He’s hiding something.”

“Why wouldn’t he tell us if he knew? Maybe he really doesn’t know.”

Bessie’s arms slumped to her sides. She cocked her head to the side looking at her husband, who was putting some serious elbow grease onto one of the blackened spots on the grill. She snapped her fingers and he finally looked up.

“Ted!”

“What?”

“Just get the trash cans together and put them in between Nelson’s and Mike’s houses.”

Mike tossed the last bag in the pile of garbage, and then he felt his hand curl and begin to shake. He grimaced and started messaging the inside of his palm. Anne saw him wince and grabbed his wrist.

“Are they acting up again?” she asked.

“Yeah, a little.”

When Mike looked up he saw Kalen talking to the Sturgis boy, James. They both had their hands in their pockets laughing at everything they were saying to each other.

“What’s all this about?” he asked, motioning over to Kalen.

“Well, from how much time she spends on his Facebook page I had an inkling she might like him.”

Anne put her hand on Mike’s back and then recoiled when she felt the gun tucked in his belt.

“What is that?” she asked.

Before Mike could stop her Anne lifted his shirt, then gasped and yanked it back down.

“Jesus, Mike. You brought your gun to the barbeque?”

“Keep your voice down. Yes, I did, and I want you to start carrying too.”

“Mike… We’ll be fine. Now, let’s go home before you shoot Kalen’s new boyfriend.”

“ Boyfriend ?”

The conversations happening around them stopped and the only thing you could hear was the Beach Boys’ “Little Deuce Coupe” playing in the background. James looked terrified, Kalen looked mortified, and both were flushed red.

“Dad!” Kalen said.

Freddy rolled off the bench of the picnic table he was sitting on, roaring with laughter. Kalen stomped off past Mike and stormed into the house.

Ray Gears, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and white tennis shoes packed up his record player along with the Beach Boys.

“Sorry about that, Mike. Love has been known to increase the hormone levels in teenagers. At least that’s what it did to me at that age,” Ray said.

“Hi, Ray,” Anne said.

“Anne. Mike. How are you guys holding up?” Ray asked.

“We’re all right. How about you?” Mike asked.

“I’m fine, but I don’t think all this was the best idea,” Ray said.

“Why?” Anne asked.

“The cars? Cell phones? They’re all off. This isn’t just a power outage, but you already knew that didn’t you, Mike?” Ray said.

“I know,” Mike said.

“People keep saying somebody’s coming to fix this, but no one’s coming. People are happy now, but come tomorrow things will start to turn. I saw a few people stupid enough to bring some canned goods,” Ray said.

“I saw,” Mike replied.

“Look, I don’t know how much supplies you have, but now might be a good time to start thinking of teaming up.”

“We might be getting ahead of ourselves, Ray.”

“Is that why you decided to carry your 9mm tonight?

“I always carry.”

“Look, Mike, you know just as well as I do that when people start to get hungry they’re going to turn on each other, and unless you have an escape plan or a castle that can protect you you’re not going to make it out of here alive, but I guess that’s what your Jeep’s for.”

“How do you know my Jeep will run?”

“Because you’re a man who carries a gun when he knows when shit’s about to hit the fan.”

Mike and Anne watched Ray grab the rest of his vinyl and head for the dark shape of his house in the distance.

“What are you thinking?” Anne asked.

“I’m thinking Ray might be the only friend we have left when things turn bad.”

Mike dipped the pot into the bathtub and filled it halfway. Before he went to bed last night he filled all of the tubs and sinks in the house, collecting as much of the water left in the pipes as he could. He’d gathered enough water to last them three or four days.

Mike pounded on both of his children’s bedroom doors on his way back to the kitchen.

“Wake up! Everybody downstairs. Family meeting time.”

Mike lit the gas stove and set the water to boil. Freddy trudged into the kitchen with his hair sticking straight up on one side of his head while the other lay completely flat.

Kalen came in next wearing sweat pants, her makeup from the day before, and her hair pulled in a ponytail.

“Dad, I need to take a shower. I feel disgusting,” Kalen said.

“You smell disgusting too,” Freddy said.

“Shut up, Freddy!”

“Okay, that’s enough you two,” Anne said, entering the kitchen and giving Freddy a slight pat on the bum.

“I drained all of the water in the pipes last night. No more showers for a while,” Mike said.

“Yay!” “What?” Freddy and Kalen shouted unanimously.

“Everybody sit down. We all need to talk about a few things,” Mike said.

Kalen folded her arms and dropped into the seat at the opposite end of the table where Mike sat. Anne and Freddy sat on either side of him. Mike reached for Anne’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Everything we talk about here stays with the family. Understand?” Mike said.

Freddy nodded. Kalen rolled her eyes.

“The power’s not coming back on,” Mike said.

Freddy and Kalen looked at each other, making sure they heard their father correctly.

“Why?” Freddy asked.