Eight

The eighth chapter of ongoing fiction

To believe everything had gone as best as it could would be a concept that truly settled the family into admission and total comprehension of the situation at hand, so it would be better to say it was handled to our advantage. Outside of constant paranoia we adapted to the conditions that we had been exposed to, if only for the sake of the children under our wings. The days that had cycled by had led us to one week’s time. It was impossible to not spectate the other group that had been in the vicinity as well, and the amount of passersby, that could have made our new-found life much worse than it had been, and, for once, I was scared of those that go bump in the night. Invisible lines had been drawn after the first minute we had stepped foot on the stoop before the door; within the week that had passed neither side had decided to cross those lines for even one second. Children played inside for the greater half of the day, there was very little reason for anyone of us to go outdoors, but if we did it was as a group, never just one. Supplies had started to run low, though, so time was near for a run, and where we would have to go for necessities.

Provisional gold was not struck when we found ourselves here; after we searched every cabinet and corner all that became ours was several handfuls of dust and an empty can of pineapple slices. Whether any of the other houses had been a ransacked or not such as this one was far beyond us, as that was knowledge that would need to be earned, and it was knowledge we could not risk. Not with wolves across the street that, I imagined, waited, day in and out, for my flock to make an irreversible step. As the days passed it was an inevitably for the young children to mold and adapt to the shape the world had taken; sure it was not flat and there was still gravity, but the ability to remain fully grounded was an effort we all had to make. We could not fully settle, could not fully commit, as any second could bring everything down.

In days’ past, events such as these would have been turned into a television series for the masses to guffaw over as people were put through one trial after another to prove their worth; these days, though, that reality was one for us all to suffer through with a more definitive method of actions. The way my wife had taken to this lifestyle was almost a shock, she had remained mellow at the loss of the house we had worked drained ourselves for; her demeanor had also gone unaltered over the past week with her decision to take in the family from the cellar, we all made it work under one roof. What water remained on was cold, and despite the lack of a position for someone to monitor the water it had stayed clear. Several empty cans littered the floor by the backdoor, and as the smell grew to an intolerable level it became apparent one door in had to be happened, or a window, and it would have to remain that way for some time after the garbage was rid of.

Dusk had begun as the moon overtook the dimmed sky. Every evening this was an event the household had all gathered for, as appreciation for the beauty was something that could go undisturbed by vibrations or rings of telephones and televisions. We would gather by the biggest window in the house, which was in the farthest corner in the smallest room on the second floor, and we would just watch as the stars filled the sky and glistened. Constellations were found, not based upon what had already been labelled, based upon the finger traces of my children; this was the usual time for my oldest daughter’s imagination to run wild, and it was a time that induced a smile each time.

I took this opportunity to gather up all of the trash throughout the house; the children, my little assistants, scoured the house, better than any detective could, in search of tin cans and wrappers. Ahead of me the children raced back up the stairs, and in their youthful clumsiness, had let slip a garbage filled hail storm down upon me. At the top of the stairs the constant patters of feet echoed through the top floor as each of them continued their dash into the room, and, thankfully, they were able to keep a grip on what they had left.

Underneath the window the pile of refuse had turned mountainous and stacked halfway from the ground to the window sill. The regrettable notion had passed over me, and, in that moment, I knew it was the only thing to do, and best done at this moment, with everyone here at my side; this stench we had thrived through this house and destroyed our sense of smell for too long. As everyone had taken a seat on the floor before the window I slipped my hands under the plastic latch and slid the door upwards on its track. With each inch it gained it wailed an unpleasant tone of decay and age.

For the first time in several days a breeze had been welcomed into the house, and the gust touched everyone, what seemed to be, individually in one way or another. My wife’s hair was swept back and waved around as my children’s faces glistened with a smile as they frantically shook their heads as the wind blew passed. The mother and child duo fixed bundled together as she held onto her child, as if she were to protect him from the outside forces; the final conclusion on that, though, was, in her joy, she wanted to clutch onto her favorite thing, her most important thing in this life. As life had done in an instant, all of this glee was put to a halt as, along with the breeze, a glass bottle had flown through the window and shattered on the floor before us.

Amidst the shards of glass the carpeted floor had become stained from the liquid that filled the inside, and a piece of cloth soaked up the content it had been caught in. Terror had filled my wife’s eyes and her maternal instinct slammed into overdrive as she scooped up our youngest child and shepherded the other two out of the room. Behind her went the young family. Before I could cross the threshold and slam the door behind me another bottle had soared in, this time it broke through the glass that made up the window.

Flames had ruptured from the impact and engulfed the room in its magnificent heat.