“Closer”

By: Justin Montgomery

1,205 Words

The sky was clear. The air was cool. The wind blew a faint breeze, the kind that caresses your skin and sends goosebumps up your arms. The grass shone with dew droplets and the birds fluttered about the air, chirping happily. Braxton and Melissa drove down the road in their new wheels, windows down, radio blasting. It was a perfect spring day.

“I can’t believe how much things have changed,” Melissa said as Braxton swung into the run down parking lot of town’s new What-A-Burger, “Who would have thought that it would have brought everyone together?”

“There’s no telling. I’m more surprised by the inflation, really. I get it, things will be over in a year’s time, but a thousand dollars for a cheeseburger?”

“Yet they gave you this car for free. If things weren’t about to end, this baby would be almost fifty grand! Weird world we live in now.”

“Amen, honey. Amen.” Braxton said and stopped the Challenger at the drive up box. The Hemi purred and Braxton smiled; he’d wanted one of these babies since he’d seen the ad in Motor Trend a few years back. All black, red trim, tinted windows, leather seats. And old style glass pack exhaust for maximum effect. It was a mean machine.

“Hi!” a crackly voice proclaimed, “Welcome to What-A-Burger. Care to try our new Doomsday special? Only twelve hundred dollars for two meals!”

Melissa giggled. “Now there’s a deal we can’t pass up!”

Her smile made Braxton’s heart warm, made his insides flutter. There was nothing he’d miss more than seeing that smile. The thought of it made him tear up.

“Yeah…sounds great,” he said to the speaker and pulled forward without caring to hear the total. His wallet bulged with hundred dollar bills, and, well, were just paper. On March 27th, 2017, they wouldn’t mean a thing. Nothing would.

They got their food and drove across town. People drove slow and leisurely. They had nowhere to be, as there was nowhere to go. When the news came last month, things had been insane. Violence. Riots. Mass Shootings. But now? Everyone relaxed. People helped others. People gave, acted selfless.

Braxton felt a smile creep onto his lips. He stomped on the gas while turning onto Jungermann Road. The Hemi roared vicious and the tires shrieked wicked. Melissa squealed and held on, a smile on her face. She looked over and bit her lip, and Braxton felt on top of the world.

Hell, that smile made him feel like he could punch that Asteroid right back into space.

“Now that’s something my shitty Altima would never do,” Braxton said, hands white-knuckle on the wheel, “Goddamn this thing is sweet.” Melissa giggled in agreement. She too had a shitty little gas sipper from yesteryear and relished their new car. Braxton saw her smile out of the corner of his eye and his heart swelled. As did something in his jeans.

They made their way to the top of Jungermann, a steep hill of a road, and pulled into an abandoned parking lot facing west to eat their food.

It all seemed so trite. Yeah, he had gotten a new car. Yeah, Melissa and he were banging three times per day, all day, and any way. He had more zeroes than he could count in his bank account, courtesy of Uncle Sam himself. He had everything that every American dreams of, and yet…

He felt so empty. Yes, there was momentary joy, but underneath lay a morbid finality that he couldn’t seem to shake. His mother, bless her heart, had tasted the barrel of her handgun when the news had come. His grandmother had killed his grandfather and then herself in a double suicide, as he was sure other kids parents and grandparents had done.

Christ, how could anyone be truly happy?

“Brax?” He was pulled back by Melissa. “Brax, are you alright?” She stuffed her mouth with fries.

“Yeah…I was just thinking.” He felt tears coming but he pushed them away. Not here, not now.

“About?” she probed, and Braxton huffed. She knew damn well what.

“How much things have changed. How much things will change. I just…” he gestured to the piece of rock in the sky, now twice as big as the sun. “How the fuck are we supposed to cope? Jesus Christ, Mel, we are practically watching the clock count down to zero.”

Scientists had calculated its size and trajectory. In the initial fervor, scientists all around the globe had joined up in an attempt to find solutions. There were none; impact inevitable.

In ten months the moon would be hit. And after that? Rocks would rain down from the sky. “God’s turn to do the stoning,” tv preachers were saying.

“Hey, hey hey hey, it’s all right. Hey.” She turned his face toward her and wiped his tear, and gave him the smile that he loved so much. “It’s hard, I know. But this might be just what we needed. Look at all of the good we are doing now! Blacks and whites get along. Murder dropped to zero percent after the initial shock. Zero percent! That’s the lowest it’s been in human history! Everyone has the necessities. People aren’t greedy, they don’t hoard. They take less than what they need, just to make sure everyone has enough.”

“It’s just not fair. Why now? Why couldn’t it have happened after we got to do everything that we’ve wanted to? Marriage, a house, a couple of kids, a dog. I wanted to write books, Mel, and I’ll never get to do that now.”

“I don’t know, but all I know is that I hope you’re the first person I meet when I get to wherever I’m going. I don’t know what happens, but I don’t want to know an existence without you.” She kissed him, and at that moment, time stood still.

When she drew back she was crying. Braxton began to speak, but she held up a finger. When she finished, she said: “I think the finality of it all just hit me. I mean, we won’t even get to see Star Wars Episode Nine.”

And that’s when Braxton really felt it. She was right. The money, the suicides, hell, even death itself were all intangible to the living. But, for some reason, the fact that Braxton would never be able to experience the ending to Star Wars hit home. All of our art, all of our literature, everything that we valued in day to day life? Poof. Gone. And no one would ever know.

“How minuscule, human life. How trite our existence, slaving away for pieces of paper, slaving for whatever distractions we try to find, and all for what? A fiery end at the hands of a stray rock?” Braxton quoted his mother, and Melissa grabbed his hand.

“We do it for this,” she said, and kissed him again.

They pulled apart and laughed, laughed harder than they had in months. Braxton scooted closer and put his arm around her, and together they watched the Asteroid, looming in the sky like it was hung on a stage set, as it came close.

Closer.

And closer still.