The Julia He Never Met
If Science to Thou Is Ignorance, Step Down From Power!
This piece was inspired by a prompt for The Top Ten Stories by Timothy J. Sabo and is part of a series of fictional pieces which aims to explore some current social issues. This one focuses on the prompt: “Mad Scientists.”
Heavy clouds carrying rain from the East came together in unison to block the Sun from doing its duty. Contrary to the weather forecast, it was going to rain at any moment. Passers-by in skimpy clothes rubbed their hands and scurried back towards their homes.
But Tom was at the front door, with his coat on, anxiously leaning against the railing.
He learned the hard way not to trust anyone who said they knew about the weather. He always did the opposite- and it strangely worked for him.
As the wind ruffled his hair, Tom found himself shivering in the middle of summer. He tightened the belt of his trench coat and slid his hand inside its pocket to take his car keys out. He stared at the heart-shaped key ring with the name ‘Lydia’ engraved on it. Gently rubbing it in a nostalgic fashion, he took a deep breath and exhaled.
“Fancy some doughnuts? You can munch on it when..” a rather high-pitched voice from inside shook him off his nostalgia.
“No Mom! We gotta go NOW!” Tom yelled.
In less than a minute, a short, elderly figure popped out from the darkness in a purple coat and matching hat. She glanced at Tom’s hand while locking the door and shook her head in dismay.
Tom quickly hid the keyring from her sight and hurried down the stairs to the car.
“When are you inviting Stephanie for dinner?” Grandma Gibson asked as she hastened her steps towards him. But Tom was already inside the car turning the key in the ignition.
“Where are we going in such a rush?” Grandma Gibson asked him after she finally reached the car and shoved herself in the front seat. “Look! I haven’t even got my smartwatch on.” She pulled her sleeves up to expose her thin wrist wrinkled with age.
“Can you stop talking about that stupid watch?” Tom barked as his face turned red.
Even though half his face was covered by a surgical mask, Grandma Gibson could clearly see Tom was embarrassed. But that didn’t stop her from asking the same question for the umpteenth time “Hasn’t Stephanie talked to you yet?”
“Shut up Mom.” Tom yelled. “And wear a mask. It’s in the glove box.”
He stared at the road ahead as he drove south from Liberty City. Even Stephanie’s mention would not lighten his mood UP this time.
“I ain’t wearing ‘em” Grandma Gibson scowled as she turned her face away from him.
Grandma Gibson was a patriot blinded by the love of her country. She belonged to the rapidly growing community of nationalist blockheads who would die for their country for all the wrong reasons in the world. One day she heard someone talking about making America great again. She believed him. Now, she was strongly convinced that COVID-19 was just another flu with a different name.
“The more you wear masks the more you are..”
“..making some other country rich.” Tom ended his mom’s sentence.
“All I care about is your health Mom so just put that mask on will you?” Tom pleaded.
Grandma Gibson turned a deaf ear towards Tom’s plea as she crossed her arms and stared at the road.
As they drove past Charles Hadley Park, Tom accelerated and almost hit a kid crossing the road before he swerved to the left and sped on.
“SLOW DOWN Tom!” Grandma Gibson shrieked. “You almost killed that poor soul!”
“Sorry Mom. Sorry.” Tom apologised with his eyes still glued to the road.
Tom was anything but inconsiderate. This raised Grandma Gibson’s concern as she adjusted her glasses while giving Tom a long look, “Are you okay love?”
Tom took a deep breath and blurted out “Joshua.”
“What?” Grandma Gibson snapped. “Can you give that kid a break? You embarrassed him once already. Now don’t do it the second time Tom. I know Michael looks a bit weird but that kid ain’t doing drugs. You barged into their sleepover party for no reason last time.”
“Joshua shouldn’t be there.” Tom whispered to himself audible enough to penetrate into her sharp ears.
“You’re telling me he shouldn’t meet his idol?” Grandma Gibson questioned Tom. “For Christ’s sake, the kid’s loved skateboarding since he was four! He’s got posters of Tony Hawk all over his bedroom wall! All that mowing he did last year and I thought he’d put in the deposit for his first car but No, the lad goes and buys a Tony Hawk skateboard! That’s how much he loves skateboarding.” Grandma Gibson was losing her temper now.
“He shouldn’t be there.” Tom whispered again, nervously shaking his left leg as he sped on.
“So what’ll you do? Embarrass him in front of his favourite skateboarder? He’s gone for ten days and today’s the seventh already. Can’t you just wait for three more days Tom? He’ll be fine. Just let him..”
“He should’ve stayed at home and minted those NFTs instead!”
Grandma Gibson turned to Tom with a perplexing look. “Those what?”
“Bored apes! Ok ok, forget it.” Tom snapped as he breathed heavily through the surgical mask.
“Don’t try to be his MOM, Tom! You can’t..”
The speaker crackled and a reporter on the other end spoke in a frantic tone, “Reporting live from Mana Wynwood Convention Centre. Something’s happening here. Something very wrong..”
Grandma Gibson raised her eyebrows and turned to Tom. “Isn’t that where Tom..?”
“I knew it. I knew something was wrong,” Tom said as he moved his shaking hand to the volume control and twisted it to the right.
“Thousands of crypto enthusiasts who travelled from different parts of the world to attend the ten-day Bitcoin Conference in Miami are now stuck inside the convention centre. Seven days have passed but no one knows what is happening inside. Supporters of financial freedom are no longer free. The Government must answer.”
Tom swerved the car to the curb and came to a jerking stop. He flung the door open and dashed towards the crowd leaving Grandma Gibson struggling to catch up with him.
As he pierced his way through the crowd, Tom saw police patrolling the entrance as reporters from CNN, Fox News and a couple of other news channels were trying to elicit a response from the law enforcement officers.
“You can NOT oppress the general public. We speak for the innocent ones. You MUST answer us!” a reporter from CNN demanded.
An agonised voice shouted from the crowd, “I’ll give you a free Bitcoin. Just let me in. I wanna see my wife!”
A blonde reporter turned emotional as she pointed to that voice and spoke in a scornful tone, “Did you just hear that? People are DYING to see their loved ones! You can NOT keep us inside. Was this why the President opened international borders?”
Another reporter yelled, “The President lied to us! COVID is not under control. Is there a COVID outbreak inside that you are so desperate to hide? ANSWER US! You have to..”
‘THUD!’
Someone hurled a stone from the crowd. It was meant for the policeman but he ducked, and it landed straight on the blonde reporter’s head.
The crowd erupted in shouts and boos as blood gushed from her head leaving a red puddle right in front of her.
Riot police jumped out of black vans parked near the entrance and advanced towards the crowd. Waving their batons in the air, they tried to disperse the crowd.
But the crowd stayed on their ground demanding to enter the convention centre.
In the same direction of the black vans, eight white vans were parked. The barn doors opened, and a flood of people covered in white costumes swiftly moved towards the entrance. They were wearing COVID protective gear.
“COVID?”
A voice boomed from the megaphone, “If you want to meet someone inside, come to the entrance and give their name along with your name and relation to them. If their name is on our list, we will let you meet them.”
“What list? Why are they on the list?” the crowd jabbered.
Without wasting a second, Tom clawed his way through the crowd, reaching the entrance gate.
“Joshua. He’s my son. He’s in there. Please let me meet him.” Tom spat out.
The health worker with a clipboard raced his eyes down the list of names. He turned the page, and a few more, and then stopped.
He turned behind and signaled to a shorter guy who ran inside. Two minutes later, he came out and nodded to the health worker. The health worker gestured to the police who let him in.
“Let us inside too” the crowd angrily marched towards Tom’s direction, but the police immediately blocked the way.
Tom followed the health worker inside the centre. The place looked pretty dark with not much lights on. Tom was taken aback to see so many health workers in flashy white costumes swarming the centre. Some were running upstairs, others downstairs, and the remaining scattered all over the place.
The health worker whispered something in a nurse’s ear and turned towards Tom. “Please follow her. She will take you to your son.” With these words, the health worker walked outside.
Before the nurse could show him the way, Tom had already run towards the nearest hall to his left.
“Joshua! Joshua!!” He screamed.
The nurse pulled him out from there. “Sir, this is the general ward. Your son is not here.
“Then WHERE is HE?” Joshua shrieked as he could no longer hold his patience.
“He’s in the ICU ward at the very end of this hall. But please..”
Tom ran at top speed and threw himself into the door almost banging his head onto the metal bed frame. A nurse helped him regain his composure and asked him gently, “Are you the patient’s father?”
Tom had almost no breath left in his tank as he took gulps of breath and nodded.
The nurse, who was blocking Tom’s view, moved away. Tom couldn’t believe what he saw.
His beloved son Joshua was lying motionless inside an isolation tent on ventilatory support.
He looked at the nurse helplessly and stammered, “ My son..my son..”
The nurse squeezed his shoulders and said, “He needs you now more than ever.”
Then she left.
Tom came close to Joshua and fell on the floor. He had never seen his beloved son in such a pitiful condition. He was the only living memory of his dead wife Lydia.
Lydia.
His head began to spin as he felt a sense of déjà vu. His eyes rolled back into his head as he fell unconscious.
Memories danced in front of him. Lydia was lying on a hospital bed. She was smiling at him as he held her hand tightly.
“I told you to abort it Lydie. You.. (sob).. you’re too old to carry a baby. I .. I (sob) told you.”
Tom sniffled as tears dripped down his cheeks, mixing with the mucus running out of his nose.
“Hey silly. You’re making the bed sheet wet.” Lydia made an unsuccessful attempt to make Tom laugh.
“We’re going to adopt the second one. I’m not letting you have her.” Tom whimpered and hugged his wife’s thighs as if a baby would do so to his mother.
Lydia looked up at the ceiling trying to let her tears sink inside her eyes.
“Do you remember what we were going to call her?” she took a deep breath and asked.
“Julia.” Tom sobbed. “You, me, Joshua and Julia. A happy family.”
Even with tears in his eyes Tom could not stop smiling at the thought when the monitor suddenly started to beep. Two nurses rushed to the scene. One of them started to check on Lydia while the other one pulled Tom out of the room. “Sir you have to go NOW.”
As he was being pushed to the waiting chair, Tom screamed from outside, “Lydie! Lydie! You’re gonna be okay baby. We’re gonna adopt Julia. We’re gonna be a happy family together.”
The nurse locked the door from inside leaving Tom alone with himself. He buried his head in his hands and cried.
Tom cursed the government, especially the Florida Governor.
From 24 weeks to 15 weeks? How could he sign that new abortion bill? Who gave him the right to ban abortion after 15 weeks?
“She just turned 16 weeks when we went to get an abortion. We didn’t know you see..” Tom was muttering to himself now.
Tom had begged every doctor in the state and even spent a whole night outside the Governor’s house for that last chance. That last chance to save his wife.
He knew his wife would die if she gave birth to a child at that age. He wanted his wife to abort the child, but everyone said that it was illegal now. Illegal now? Wasn’t it legal till last week? What happened all of a sudden? Will he just let his loving wife die now?
How he wished he were wrong.” He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t even bear the thought of Lydia leaving him.
But it was already too late. Lydia was due to deliver now. Nothing could save her except God or Science?
A hand squeezed his shoulder. Tom looked up.
“Sorry Tom.” The nurse from inside said, looking down. “We could not save your wife.”
“NO!!!” Tom shrieked.
He suddenly woke up to a loud beeping sound. He wiped his nose and looked around. He saw his son in front of him, still laying motionless as two nurses rushed to his son’s side.
A nurse checked Joshua’s pulse, looked at the other nurse and shook her head. The other nurse pulled the white sheet over Joshua’s face.
Tom froze.
“Sorry Sir.” The nurse said, looking down. “We could not save your son.”
Tom tried to stand up with the support of the metal bed frame, but his legs went numb and he fell down.
Two guards came from nowhere and hustled him down the corridor towards the exit.
A doctor was overhead giving instructions. “Dump the corpse next to the rest. Quick. We need this bed empty for another patient.”
Protestors had already burnt two vans outside the centre. Tear gas was not dispersing the crowd. So, the riot police had opened fire. Blood was everywhere. Terrifying shrieks from the crowd could deafen any normal person’s ear.
But, Tom was already deaf. Deaf to every other sound except the weeping of his own heart.
He fell to the ground overwhelmed by grief.
Suddenly, lightning flashed as thunder rumbled across the sky, and it rained.
Tom cried like never before. But as the rain battered his face, his tears got washed away in an instant as if they never mattered.
Why would they matter?
He was nothing but a mere peasant in the lands of powerful ignorants.
But he would still mourn for his beloved ones. For Lydia who he couldn’t save, for Joshua who he couldn’t protect and for poor Julia who he never met.
Tom looked up and wildly flashed his finger around as death danced in his eyes.
If Science to Thou Is Ignorance, Step Down From Power!
A big round of applause to Timothy J. Sabo for his brilliant idea of weaving fictional stories out of ten top social issues that are currently affecting our society, and to eight other marvellous writers who have done, and will do, pure justice to their respective prompts: PJ Jackelman, Sherry McGuinn, Geoffrey Gevalt, Helen Hensell, Logan Silkwood, Annie Trevaskis, Uwem Daniels, and JF Danskin
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