Tashmo Episode 2 — Empty
‘Country is the Heart of America’ read the back of the faded Cracker Barrel mug in Tashmo’s hands. The coffee burned her throat as she took too big of a sip. She imagined herself swallowing the exact droplet that had fallen into the void earlier.
The heavy steel door to the station shook as Tashmo pulled on it. She balanced the coffee in her right hand as she put her entire body weight into opening it. The smell of rain and woody plant matter filled her nose as she kicked the dented wooden stopper into place.
Through the open door at the bottom of the hill sat the tower’s emergency generator. It was about the size of a car and puttered as it worked. The rain had picked up considerably and spattered the hot metal, darkening the paint for a moment before it sizzled away and returned to its regular hi-vis yellow.
“I have to be running low on fuel…” Tashmo paused watching the rain. She hated storms. “Maybe I can check tomorrow?” She tried to convince herself. “Maybe i’ll run out of power overnight and freeze.”
There was a beat up locker to the right of the open door labeled ‘Rain Gear’.
“Oh, well that’s nice.” Tashmo said. She didn’t like how much she’d begun talking to herself. Tashmo opened the locker with excitement. It was empty, except for a thick layer of dust, cobwebs, and a late 90s magazine about muscle cars tucked on top.
“Of course… That would be too easy.” Tashmo said sarcastically. She paused in her frustration for a moment letting her eyes walk the trail from the door, down the hill, and to the generator, trying to avoid looking at her obsidian prison.
Tashmo took another big sip of her coffee. Reached the bottom of the cup, sighed, and walked back to the kitchen. The lights on the radio tower console continued to dance as she passed by. She thought they looked pensive. Like they had a bottled up voice eager to yell out. She could relate.
The generator had been going since the first night she’d been trapped here. As she thought about it, she realized the generator probably kicked on moments after the void showed up. She remembered her childhood again. Her father kneeling down to her, his large hand on her head. Her small hands clenched around his jacket sleeve.
“Don’t worry Tash, I know it’s storming, but it’s still my shift.” She could see past his smiling face, out the front door to their home, a dark purple thunderstorm crawled across the black sky. It terrified her. “Look, I’ll tell you a secret, ok.” He said, touching her cheek, pulling her attention away from the storm.
His face turned serious and he looked back and forth over his shoulders to make sure no one was spying on them. “The tower has this big old yellow generator. He’s huge. And if anything goes wrong or I lose power, he’s gonna kick on instantly and charge the place back up!”
Suddenly her father rose to his feet and snatched her up in a great big hug shaking her back and forth pretending to be the generator roaring to life. Tashmo laughed and screamed, as he ran through the living room until he reached their floral print couch and plopped her down on it.
“Now” He said, tapping the top of the radio on the end table. “You know the station.”
“KA95!” Young Tashmo shouted with a smile, hopping up to turn it on.
“And, if I’m still talking?” He asked while grabbing his bag to leave.
“Then you’re all right!” she responded.
Lost in thought Tashmo had overfilled the coffee cup. She shook off the memory and slammed the pot back onto the hot plate and stormed out of the kitchen. The console lights watched her race by. She sprinted out the door into the rain and down the hill. She was soaked within moments.
The generator looked smaller up close. It featured a striking lack of information, just a small metal plate half written in chinese, a cap for the fuel tank, and a gauge with a little hand dancing right above a red bar labeled E.
“Shit. I am not alright.”
