There was a lot of speculation about who would go and who would stay. With more going than staying, it was going to have to come down to something, race or class, but rightfully, no one thought random. It wasn’t random. It was never going to be random. The people who moan about why it wasn’t random, must’ve been born yesterday.
I’m staying and she’s going. How could she stay? How could she not go? I told her, Go. I said, just go. You never know, maybe there is a heaven, and if so, maybe I’ll see you again. Hey, maybe you’ll die getting there and I’ll live out my entire life, by myself, but with books and gardens. I can live in California if I want to. She always shrugs when I’m dramatic. Now, that I have time to think about, it was sort of jerky of her to go. Yeah, it would have been exciting to see space, to see mars, but you can die slipping on a bar of soap in the shower, bumping your head the wrong way trying to find something in the attic. Nothing is certain, and really, is anything more practical than doing nothing? Sometimes I scream to her, and sometimes I think she has already slipped in some shower. I’ve always been lucky. When I found out it wasn’t random, I thought I’d be going with.
It’s a shame the people who wanted the process to be random didn’t know sooner that most of them would be going. They might not have burnt the streets, stole all those stereos, killed my dog, killed the president, poisoned the water. Now, they’re going and I’m scrubbing day and night. I found some wood cleaner that smells like pine trees. I keep it by my bed and night and if I wake up shaking and sweating, terrified. I grab the wood cleaner. I smell it and think of a time when forests were special, when they weren’t everywhere, and taking over.
I thought I’d get a deal on a mansion in Beverly Hills, but the Japanese got there first. I thought I’d go to Japan, but the Chinese have moved in. Some days I think, maybe right here is fine for now. It gets a little cold sometimes; it gets a little hot sometimes, but its all mine. There are ten grocery stores in this town and all of them are stocked. I could never grow anything here, but maybe I won’t have to. I got all of those grocery stores.
I wish my dog hadn’t died. I wish they would have lied to us…just a little. I wish they would have made big lying declarative statements like, “The planet is warming, sea levels are rising, if we don’t clean up this Earth—we’re all going to die.” Then, at least, I’d have less work to do now, and there would be more hands. But, they didn’t do that. They tore down skyscrapers and factories, used every remaining piece of steel to build rocket ships, and loaded everybody up. Took off. I waved until they couldn’t see me anymore. I couldn’t see them anymore.
The government, the friends, and the families, they don’t talk to us. You’d think they would have shown us how to use one of those “satellite feeds” or like a powerful walkie-talkie. They didn’t do that. They did shake my hand. It was someone important, he wore a hat and his wife, wore a fancy sash. I thought it suited her. I wear a sash all the time now. No one sees me, no one thinks I’m putting on airs or trying to be someone who I’m not. I am though. I went to school for a long time and they said, when you get out of here you’re going to be important.
I use to go see movies about the end of the world, civilization. They always showed the remaining survivors grouped together, waging war against other groups, but at least hanging out in hamlets. I never saw a movie about the remaining folks on earth claiming whole cities for themselves. Living in solitude. A guy came by the other day and he said, you living in this town? I said, yeah, I’m living in this town, but hey man, you can have the other half. I’ll give you the good half. The one with three whole foods and a costco. Just come by every once in a while. We’ll play cards. He looked at me, chewing his gum, taking his time as his eyes rolled over the cityscape. Nah, he said, I’ll just keep on walking. Gots to find me my own town, dontcha know, there’re unclaimed states out there. I’m thinking about making Alaska mine all mine. I shook my head. A death sentence for sure, for both of us.
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