Mark Falkin - The Late Bloomer

The tub was busted. The porcelain edge of the tub exposed to the room had been demolished. Big white chunks of tub lay on the floor in an inch of roaming water.

Kodie and Bass came in behind and said iterations of what the hell. “Let’s check the others,” I said. Kodie and Bass gave each other this big-eyed knowing look I couldn’t decipher then and I was so freaked by the water issue that I didn’t ask what their deal was.

We ran to the next house in the rain. I led. A dog up the street barked. Kodie and Bass lagged behind, whispering.

That’s right, you guessed it, dear reader, same thing at the next one, though this time we saw the water on the porch having seeped under the front door. We checked the next several and each tub bore the same violent marks, each house a small flood.

The pattern was obvious. Panicked now, we jogged home and our thirst grew. A click formed in my throat.

I was the first one back to the house, dashing inside, hand on the kitchen faucet handle. Kodie and Bass came up behind me as I turned the knob. Air sighed through.

We still had a few cases of bottled water, but now the dynamics had shifted. They had made a direct, emphatic statement.

We don’t want you to have water.

We don’t want you here anymore.

I’m pissed now. Illogical. I’m loading up, scrambling around the house, packing more heat than made sense, striding out to the Hummer. “C’mon, Bass. Let’s go be that beast they’re so afraid of.”

Kodie and Bass stood the porch. “Kevin, no. We agreed.”

I stopped midway down the walk and turned to her holding an umbrella and a graphite crossbow. “Agreed to what? They’re saying they want us dead. It’s a formal unambiguous declaration.”

“But this isn’t what you do, Kevin,” said Bastian.

“The hell you talking about?”

“There’s something going on with you, Kev. I feel it, and I know Kodie does too.” Those two looked at each other with conspiracy in their mien, exhaling and nodding like well, we may as well tell him . “And you do too.”

“What?” I shifted my weight. “This isn’t funny.” My throat dry, voice cracking. But I knew what.

“I know you thought that we…” Bass checked back with Kodie. Her face said go on , but he stalled so she continued.

“We didn’t get together that night when you fell asleep. We found ourselves talking about you. How best to keep you going and positive.”

“You saved me, Kevin. You say you got lucky.” He shook his head. There was that word luck again.

I looked at Kodie and she just nodded, sniffing her red nose. Though evening was hours away, the November air grew cold with the rain. The air soaked, the colors of the afternoon shades of gray. She shivered in her T-shirt. “I know it freaks you out, but, Kevin, whatever all this is that’s happened… all I can say is, I,” she glanced at Bass, “we know that there’s something special in store for you.”

I eyed them incredulously, one then the other. “What exactly do you mean?”

“If I knew exactly, I’d tell you. It’s like… dreams, but it’s a feeling. It’s… You’re the leader now. Not by default, but by choice. You’ve been chosen.” Her body quivering, her face grave. “You think we come upon Jespers’s discovery otherwise? But that’s just part of it, it’s more than that. It’s—”

“Chosen.” I tried to get them to fall apart laughing by staring off into the middle distance with a rigid jaw, chest thrust out, crossbow fist on my hip like a superhero atop a mountain. Their faces stayed rigid. “We’ve got things to do. The water’s out, the grid’s probably—”

“Not kidding,” said Bass. “Do we look like we’re kidding?” I looked long and hard at each of them. They didn’t look like they were kidding.

Kodie shivered, from cold or illness or fear.

“Well, we need to pack up for Utopia if we’re going to go.”

She shook her head at me. “We can’t leave here,” she deadpanned. “They’ll kill us out there. Now that we’ve killed one of them.”

“Goddamned gremlins,” Bass said under his breath. “At some point we are going to have to get more water.”

“They’re kids,” I said.

“They’re more than that and you know it. They’re a swarm,” said Kodie.

“Kevin,” Bass said. “You’re not getting it. Me and Kodie… we have to protect you now. We are both alive because of you. It’s our duty.”

“What?! Duty ?” The weird feelings and dreams of doom and some important inscrutable role I was to have in it all I’d had since summer were coming true. Still, I wanted to delay, pretend it was, is, all a dream. So, backed into this corner, I got surly. “Assuming I saved you, Bass, which I do not, how did I save you, Kodie?”

Her retort came quick like she was ready to give it, a debating politician jumping on a question about a topic she’s been dying to discuss. “I think I’ve had the white stuff, Kevin.”

I stood immobilized. My jaw fell open.

“Now I don’t. I’ve spent two nights with you at my side caring for me. It went away.”

“Well, this is just horseshit,” I said. “You were sick sick. What? You felt the white stuff?”

Kodie paused, then nodded. “You were gone, chasing the train. I was in bed and it… bubbled up my windpipe. Burpy. A slow creep, but it came. I was dreaming of drowning in green mossy dead water. Something swam, lurked in that water and was there with me.” A roll of thunder with the rain now. “I felt it coming up. You drove up in the driveway. It receded.”

“Psychosomatic. You are both full of it.”

They both shook their heads with their eyes closed, solemn faces. Bass said, “Why would we make this up? What’s to gain? We don’t have time for games. You need to know , man. I mean, you think I’m particularly jazzed about it? In the parlance of our times: it is what it is.” He lifted his arms and dropped them to his sides, exasperated. “I don’t love it.”

Good. A little levity at least. “You mean the parlance of those times a few days ago,” I said.

Kodie continued. “I ran outside to the swings to collect myself. You saw the blood in the grass.”

I stammer-asked, “Was it… from the… stomach or… lungs?”

“Lungs. Definitely.”

“A trombone player in the high school band who just got busted with a baggie of weed in my locker. A leader of many.”

Lifted eyebrows, nodding and shrugging.

“Leaders emerge from all sorts of backgrounds. They evolve into the role. One way or the other, they do rise. Gandhi was thrown off a train and got pissed.” I don’t remember which one said that. Something Kodie would say, though. I was so flummoxed with them standing there confirming my belief that I was meant for something that my memory isn’t so good on who said what.

“You’re crazy, both of you.” Even though I knew they weren’t. “Why’d you wait until now to tell me?”

Bass said, “We didn’t think you’d believe us and—”

“I don’t.”

“—and now that they’ve backed us into this arid corner, now that we have to start taking chances, we had to tell you.”

Kodie sighed. “I’m not saying you have all the answers. At some point, you’re going to be important. To them and to us, too. In how we continue on. Right now you need to stay safe.”

“We’re going to run out of water fast. We can’t just stay here,” I said. “We have to risk to survive.”

Bass said, “We have enough for now. In this rain, it’ll be dark by seven. Too late, again. I’ll get the power going with the generators, keep pinging Utopia.”

“We’re okay. Tomorrow.” Kodie was cool. They’d formed a united front. Staying on message.