Rift
Someone just walked over your grave…
Yeah, that’s it.
Well, that’s
how I feel…
Have you ever considered that maybe, just maybe…
That someone…
Is you?
Maybe
there’s this rift in space/time, and you are walking over the spot that will
someday be your grave.
Or…
Maybe it isn’t you at all…
Maybe it’s someone else…
Someone in the
future.
And you can feel
it…
That chill down your spine…
That tingle that spreads all over you.
Cutting through
space and time.
What if you
could look through that rift in space time…
What would you see?
Maybe…
Just maybe…
You’d see something…
like this...
Dark
clouds fill the sky. Like a storm
is coming. Only storms rarely
come, and it’s always overcast, forever gloomy.
The wind whips through the trees, howling mournfully.
A lone teen trudges through the dry leaves, traveling across the
cemetery. A spark of life in an
otherwise dead place. He trips on
a grave Lana Donelly it reads, 2015. The rest of the words
are impossible to read: worn from the winds and rains and wars of over a
century. The teen picks himself
up, brushing dry leaves from his coat. He
continues his trek across the enormous cemetery. He hangs his head, there is no need to look up, he knows
where he is going… he has been there many times before.
He stops at the familiar marker, Nathaniel
O’Conner 2109-2130. That is
it. Nothing more…
“Hey
Nate-” he stops and gazes into
the clouds. “Oh man, I can’t
believe you’ve been gone for two years. I need you Nate.”
He looks down and shakes his head.
“It’s
not easy being seventeen, you know. Nothings
easy anymore.” He shudders,
more from the memories than from the cold.
“I’m
lost Nate. I need my big brother.
If you could just point me in the right direction.
I don’t know what to do anymore, maybe I never did.”
A tear drops to the ground and he wipes his eyes with his sleeve.
“I
still remember it all Nate. What-”
his voice chokes up. He swallows
and clears his throat.
“What
we were doing. What time it was.
Even what month it was. I
can see it all so clearly, so why can’t I see the future at all?
“I’m
confused, I’m scared, and…I miss you.
All of you. If only…” he can’t continue. If only the war had not taken his family.
His brother had only been 21. At
least his brother had a grave… his parents had not been so lucky.
Only four short years ago everything had been fine, the sun shone and
children laughed. Today clouds
ruled the sky and the young were aged beyond their years. He closes his eyes
against the memory but he can’t stop it from surfacing…
The
sun was shining and he was in the backyard with Nate. He was going to try out for the freshmen football team this
coming school year and he had to practice.
He groaned as Nate tackled him to the ground.
“Hey
sport! Keep your eye on the ball
will ya. That one was right to ya.
How do you expect to get on the team if you are always daydreaming?”
Nate had said. And he had
laughed as they wrestled on the ground. His
parents laughed too, they had all been so happy.
Suddenly they heard a rumble, like a heard of angry elephants growing
closer and closer. And then there
had been a crash that shook them to their bones.
The first bomb had fallen.
And
that was the end of life as he had known it.
The end of normal life for the O’Conners and countless others. It
had only gotten worse from that point on.
It seemed that everyday more and more bombs fell.
Ash was continually falling to the ground- the snows of death and
devastation. And then, as
suddenly and mysteriously as it had begun, the war stopped.
No one knew what had happened. From
the first all communication with the outside world had been cut off.
And now it had ended, but not before his parents and brother had died.
His parents had died first. They
had been helping at the central hospital when it was hit.
There were no survivors, not even any debris. Everything was gone. Nate had died a few weeks later, bringing food home from the
market for his “little brother”. Some
drunk had pulled a knife on him. But
at least Nate had a grave. The
teen shuddered and pulled his coat tighter around him. Everything had changed in the two years after that first
shell dropped. Most of the once
prosperous city was dead, lying in ruins.
“I
passed by the center today Nate.
“I
wanted to help out, but I couldn’t. It
was just too painful to see all those people.
It’s wrong Nate, and there’s no way to make it right.
You wouldn’t recognize the place.
5th is a huge homeless shelter, and Wall St. is still in
ruins. They’re talking about
rebuilding some of the smaller apartments downtown.
And there’s a big debate over the Statue of Liberty.
Some say we need to rebuild it; it’s a symbol of our spirit and
Liberty. But others say that we
don’t have any hope or liberty to symbolize.
At times I almost agree with them.
Nothing will ever be the same again.
We can never get back our innocence of a decade ago.
“And
then I think: what are you doing? How
can any seventeen-year old be so cynical?
And then I know why. Ten
years ago, even five years ago, a boy my age would be going to parties, and
playing football. His biggest
concern would be that paper he has due in English next week.
But, Nate… I don’t even go to school.
And I’m not always sure where my next meal is coming from, let alone
what I’m going to be doing a week from today.
I’m seventeen going on forty Nate.
And there is nothing I can do about it.” He starts to speak again, then stops, debating with himself.
He turns to go but finally musters the courage to continue.
“Nate,”
he whispers, “I’ve got a date Nate. A
blind date. That’s really what
I came here to talk to you about. How
do you act on a blind date? Is it
like a regular date? Not that I
would know anything about that either. Oh
Nate, what right do I have to go on a date when people are starving, when life
is so messed up? How can I just
pick up my life and go on when so many people will never have that chance?
I feel so guilty Nate. And
what do I say to her? What does
one talk about? The weather would
be so superficial it would be rude, and anything else is too deep for a first
date. But Nate, I want to be open
and honest with her, because all we’ve got left is each other now. People in New York City were never very good at depending on
each other. But now, we have to.
And I don’t want to scare her away.
“I
don’t even know how this happened. I
got a note from Mr. Reynolds, at the general store. And it said to meet this girl at Bennellie’s- yeah, it’s
still standing. It’s about the
only café still standing. And it’s
not really a café anymore, it’s just a place to come in out of the wind.
People don’t even talk much.
“So,
anyway, I am going to go meet this girl whom I don’t know, who somehow knows
me. And I guess I’ll just hope
for the best.” He glances at
his watch. “Well, I guess I’d better go or I’ll be late.”
He turns and trudges down the path toward the rest of town, he passes
the worn sign- Central Park- some
park huh? He walks slowly through town, looking at the skyline.
It is a jagged mess. He
passes through streets that look as though they will never be clean as he
heads toward the center of town. The
clean region. A haven of sorts, the eye of the storm. He sees Bennellie’s up ahead and pauses, uncertain.
Should he go through with this? But he must, he cannot turn back now.
He opens the door and enters the café.
A lone girl sits in the back against the wall.
She stands and comes over to him, a tentative smile on her lips.
“Hello
Sabin. I’m Angela, and I sent that note to you.” He stutters and her smile widens.
“It’s
okay ya know,” she says gently. “I
don’t expect this to be easy, we’ve seen some rough times.
But I’d like to get to know you.”
She holds out a hand and leads him to a table.
And they talk. A little
slowly at first, but gradually it gets easier, and Sabin smiles just a bit.
A tinkle of light laughter bubbles out the door of the café and into
the streets. People passing by
hear the sound and smile… just a little.
And maybe they stop and talk. Just
a word or two. But it’s a
start. A sign that the pain is
ending and now a new beginning has been made.
With that little bit of laughter and a smile a whole new world opens up
and anything is possible…
Maybe…
Just maybe life will get better…
Day by day, a little at a time…
Maybe that is
how it will happen…
Maybe when you look
through the rift that is what you’ll see…
Or maybe…
You’d see a rich world of sunshine and laughter…
Or a world of
distrust and arrogance…
Maybe, you would…
Then again…
Maybe you wouldn’t.
The future is, after all, unwritten…
…Anything is
possible.