Remnants — Episode 9

On the living room sofa, Sara and her mother turned the pages in one of Sara’s favorite books.

Demolition Danny was filled with vivid images of wannabe superhero Danny in colorful caped costumes. Everywhere he flew, he left behind a bizarre mess of broken dishes, busted lamps, and blasted garbage bags. Danny’s tired mother followed closely behind, dutifully cleaning up the aftermath of his careless capers.

Even five-year-old Sara thought the moral of the story was much too obvious: For Her Sake, Give Mom A Break. Still, the flying garbage was so funny.

Sara was being home-schooled. She’d been diagnosed with an awful disease she still couldn’t pronounce. “One year, two maybe,” she’d heard the doctor tell Mommy.

They looked up at the sound of the key in the front door.

Daddy had been working late again. He did that a lot lately. Sara recognized her mother’s dubious expression whenever he called to tell her that. It was the same look she had when Sara said she felt fine, when both knew she didn’t feel fine at all.

Her mother made no move to rise to greet him. Her face resembled that of Danny’s tired mom.

Coat and tie draped over one arm, Sara’s father stumbled into the living room, leaving the front door wide open. Sara looked uneasily at the dark space. You don’t leave doors open where strangers can come in uninvited.

“The comet blew up.” Daddy threw his hands in the air and they gyrated in a circle as his coat and tie dropped to the floor.

“What did you say?” Her mother sat forward on the couch, letting the book slide onto Sara’s lap.

“I heard it on the car radio and got out to look.” He coughed and lifted a cupped hand to cover his mouth. “It’s like the Fourth of July.” He coughed again then lowered his arm. “I think we got lucky. I didn’t see any houses on fire in our neighborhood. Sure as hell’s a lot of dust in the air, though.”

Sara waited for Mommy to correct his bad language, but she just brushed off her lap and stood.

“What should we do?”

He shrugged.

“Nothing, I guess. Stay inside, we should be safe enough.” He coughed again.

“Close the door.”

He looked behind him.

“Oh.” He shut it then turned back to face them.

Sara watched her mother pace first toward Daddy then turn and walk away.

“I’ll fill the tub with water,” she said over her shoulder. “We have food.” Her voice faded as she went down the hallway.

“Hi, Sara,” her father said. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

She nodded but remained sitting.

“Okay, it’s running.” Her mother’s voice came to them first, then she re-entered the room. “At least we won’t be without water.”

Sara watched her step forward and raise on her tiptoes to kiss Daddy.

He coughed into her face and she turned her head.

“Sorry,” he said.

She walked away.

“I need to turn off the water.” She left the room.

Daddy vomited onto the floor.

Sara didn’t move.

They stared at each other.

Her mother walked back in, looked down, saw the monstrous stew.

“I don’t feel good,” he said and wiped drool from his chin.

Her mother coughed.

Sara looked at the book in her lap then at her parents. Things were going to get real messy, she thought, real soon.

Too messy, even, for her mother to clean up after.

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