These days, its hard not to have the Corona Virus not only on our minds, but imprinted upon our consciousness. Saturday afternoon, while feeling particularly morose, I came up with a story idea and managed to get it completed within a couple of hours; a most unusual feat.
Even though this piece will appear in my next book, I thought I would share it; especially, since so many of us are inside and unable to go about our normal activities. So, I hope you'll enjoy this short piece.
The old man looked toward the western sky. Sure enough, he
thought to himself, there's a storm coming in. Might have known
with all this wind.
He moved slowly toward his destination; the place where his favorite
tree stood. It was an old oak, an ancient one just like himself. The
tree made him comfortable. He had long ago begun considering it a
companion; his only companion. Now, he wanted to commit to his final
act in the presence of his best friend, the oak.
The old one pressed on toward his goal, leaning upon a walking stick
he had fashioned many years ago. From time to time he paused to catch
his breath, or to push some of the tangled underbrush aside. The sky
continued to darken, growing more ominous by the minute. The wind
howled an almost ghostly warning through the treetops and across the
grassy prairie up ahead. He walked and walked, in spite of the
approaching tempest.
Finally, he saw it. His voice was barely audible under the howl of
the wind when he spoke. “Hello there, old friend! It's been a few
years, hasn't it?”
He knew the tree needed no human ears to hear his greeting. It simply
knew, and waved its branches during a wind gust in acknowledgment. He
slid down toward the Earth upon reaching the tree, both hands
clinging on the walking stick for support. Touching the ground
safely, he moved backward until his back rested against the tree
trunk.
A contented expression came over him as he gazed westward toward the
approaching storm. A bolt of lightning flashed and the sound of
thunder reverberated across the landscape. “Yep, it's gonna be a
powerful one,” he muttered to himself.
He let his mind drift, and his thoughts went back--back to the source
of his pain, his longing, and his despair. He remembered that day as
clearly as if it had been yesterday. Yes, even at 104 years of age,
it can still seem just like yesterday.
He was only a young man in his early twenties when he first saw her.
It had been a horrible time to be isolated, forced to stay indoors;
away from others; and yes, those of the opposite gender. The plague
had been relentless in its killing, and its ability to put fear in
the hearts of most. He'd been doing what he was supposed to do by
remaining home. Still, he had needs. On that most memorable day, he'd
decided to join an online dating site. It hadn't taken very long
before she'd caught his attention.
She was a dark beauty. Her hair was black as the wings of a raven;
her eyes a deep, captivating brown, which, even in a photo, seemed to
pierce to the very soul. Her sulky lips were painted black. Her name
was Mary, Mary Malevolent. At least, that's what she called herself,
and he'd never known her by any other name. She claimed to be a
vampire. He'd known all along that she wasn't a real one; not in the
preternatural sense, but he was intrigued, and she kept him that way.
Once contact had been made, the two couldn't seem to get enough of
one another. They texted, Skyped, sent one another emails—anything
to stay in contact while waiting for the time that they could safely
meet face to face. He'd loved it when she would tell him all of the
things she would like to do with him as a vampire. Neither could wait
for the plague to abate, and the world return to normal.
A day came, however, that would seal both of their fates, and that of
the entire human race. “Medical researchers have discovered,” the
news report said, “that the virus continues to exist inside the
body of survivors, and becomes active again when similar viruses from
the body of one person are introduced or otherwise, transferred to
another.”
What does that mean? He'd asked himself. What are they
talking about?
Deep down he knew. He'd known from the moment the report had been
given what it really meant; to touch, to embrace, to kiss, to make
love...all of these things could be lethal. “Continue to stay in,”
they said, “to prevent the spread of the virus.” He stayed in.
Mary Malevolent stayed in. They continued their online relationship,
but both knew, both understood that this was all it ever could be. To
do otherwise could mean dying a ghastly death. Both had now been
doomed to a life of desire without any hope of fulfillment or
intimacy.
During the months and years that followed, the plague never loosened
its grip. Human beings remained apart. He and Mary remained apart,
and civilization slowly crumbled around them. The day that the
internet died, the day that those weaving their electronic magic
ceased all operations, had been the worst day of his life. She'd
lived in another state. He and the vampire woman had been cut off.
They would never communicate again.
Vividly aware of their fate, he had run to the front door, shouting
into the neighborhood. “No, no, no!” His cries of despair
assaulted the entire neighborhood; yet, they went unheeded. Death,
misery and desperation were sweeping the country; worse, the entire
world. His verbal pang of distress was just one of many.
Now, as the old man sat under the tree, a tear welled up in his eye.
He thought of what could have been—should have been, but could
never be. For all he knew, he could be the very last human being on
Earth. The human race, unable to love, unable to reproduce, and
facing such dire circumstances, had slowly died off. I don't
believe that many have made it to my old age. And I don't know how I
managed it either. Can't say I've exactly been lucky though.
Another bolt of lightning flashed downward from the heavens, striking
the ground just ahead of him. The powerful, resounding clap of
thunder startled him back to the present, and that which he must do.
The ancient one looked straight ahead and saw a funnel cloud heading
in his direction with a clutter of debris swirling around it.
“It's time,” he announced to only himself. It's time for me to
rid myself of all this sorrow and despair once and for all. Yep, all
eighty years of it. I will not die without trying to reach out one
more time. I will rid myself of this dreadful sorrow.”
Setting his walking stick firmly upon the ground, he slowly pulled
himself up to a standing position. He walked just beyond the reach
of the tree's branches and cried out as a heavy rain began to fall.
“No, no no! I do not accept what you've done to us. Damn you, you
hideous little monster!Damn you for ruining my life, damn you for
taking away my love—our pleasure!”
His voice could no longer be heard over the train-like roar of the
approaching tornado. Still, he continued. “Mary...Mary Malevolent!
Do you hear me, Mary?”
There was the snapping of tree branches overhead. The wind picked up
his frail body, slamming it against the trunk of the tree. “Mary,
Mary Malevolent! Why didn't we? Why didn't we love in spite of our
fears? Death at the hands of love would certainly have been better
than bearing this hellish existence.”
Suddenly, the trunk of the tree snapped, and he was caught up in the
maelstrom, somehow clinging to its trunk. “It looks like we'll go
out together, old friend.”
He screamed one more time. “Mary! Mary Malevolent! I love...”
And there was only the wind and the rain, swirling around the tornado
as it ran along its destructive path as the final curtain fell for
the human race.
Artist unknown
