Ketchup Crisps
#7 of How Did It Come to This?
We're back! Sorry for the long pause, I just totally lost motivation over Easter (a large part of that was also me being lazy and eating too much chocolate). Thanks for reading as always, and your support means the (apocalyptical) world to me.
"So, what's your favourite smell?" asked Attica as we walked.
"Really? We've run out of conversation starters already and we're onto smells?" remarked Grey with a little grin.
"You can tell a lot about a person from their favourite smell. Yours is ketchup-flavoured crisps, so I can assume you're annoying. Which is right," she said.
By now, we'd been walking for just over a day. When we left the woods, we made our way to a little corner store and slept there for the night. There were only a few bits of food and water left, let alone potable ones, but anything was better than starving out here. The air was thick and stodgy like an overly humid summer; it tightened in your throat and made you feel sick. I would have downed pure mud if it got bad enough. We were getting closer to the City with every passing hour; what was once a heavenly skyline full of warm lights and dancing cars was now a desolate expanse of grey rubble. Only a few stubbly remains of the taller skyscrapers were left, and that is what we set our sights on.
"I think... freshly mown grass," I replied.
"Really? You mean to say it isn't 24-carat gold or truffles? Have you got frontal lobe damage?" snarked Attica.
"Funnily enough, no. I've never eaten a truffle, they smell gross," I said.
"Me neither, they look like crap. I don't like mushrooms anyway."
"At least we can all agree on that," said Grey, chiming in, "but hey, why mown grass? It's a bit specific."
"It was one of the only things I could smell in the summer and feel happy," I replied with a sombre chuckle, "I didn't get out much."
As I walked alongside them, the memories of a better time flashed through my mind. Despite everything, I missed the little window in the dank cellar that opened just a crack. I missed how the room would soon fill with the sounds of the lawnmower, pitching up and down as it lazily swung around the garden, slicing down the grass and spitting the remains in neat little rows. I missed how the soft scent of the grass would flood the room, and how it would make me smile, no matter how bored or frustrated I was. I loved the way that it would eventually die down but would come back the moment it rained. The mix of grass and concrete was a precious thing. A surreal thing.
"You know, the smell of the trees reminds me of it too," I said with a smile. The piney aroma in the air was sweet and inviting. It was almost like a winter of Christmas trees in this eternal summer.
"But your father was rich, no? You could've gotten anything you wanted?" said Grey.
"If I asked, then yeah. But he wasn't the sort of dad you'd go to for a toy or something," I said, "he was a complete arsehole to me."
"Your story really is funny," sighed Attica, "well, odd. You aren't the spoiled twat I thought you were."
"Yeah! You should write it down or something. That would be cool," replied Grey.
"Yeah, for what audience, dumbass?"
"Touché."
Have you ever spent a whole day somewhere in the pouring rain, only for the sun to finally shine when you left? Well, as we crossed over the train tracks and into the outskirts of the city, the warmth in the air became more and more apparent. I felt annoyed at how it was only hot here in the City until I remembered why.
It was--and this is an understatement--miserable. There was no colour to be found anywhere. Everything was a depressing shade of grey as if the saturation had simply been sucked away. Even the misty orange that hung around the buildings and the pinks that steamed away from burning fires seemed tame in comparison to the lifelessness that was filling the City. We walked past a pile of concrete and metal jerking out at awkward angles, like a death trap waiting to claim its prey.
"Holy shit, is that a..." began Grey, but he soon trailed off. He took a step back behind Attica and turned away, his eyes still wide and brimming with horror. I looked over and felt my mind rush as I saw a dead body. It was a young bobcat, and whoever it was had a striking resemblance to Grey. The same beautiful grey fur, the same wide, loving eyes. It was at that moment the true severity of all that had happened dawned on me. This was no little internal conflict. This was not a case of my own issues. This was not me and my father. This was not me and the wolf. This was a very real, very eminent nuclear Armageddon. And, there was a tiny voice in my head, something that told me that somehow, I had caused it all.
"Are you okay, Grey?" I asked gingerly.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he stammered. He had tears in his eyes brimming slowly out and down his fur. He looked terrible, as though he had just seen a ghost. Well, I suppose he had. There was an eerie silence that hung in the air for a moment. It was crushing. It made me feel sick. It felt like an eternity had passed before Attica spoke up.
"Let's just keep going. The station isn't too far now."
We began walking again. Attica slung her arm around Grey's shoulder and held him close, squeezing him reassuringly, gently whispering calm words into his fuzzy ears. I almost felt jealous at how he had the support, and how he had real love, something I had never truly experienced. I had thought a lot about my father's words before he left. They hammered in my mind, and all I could do is question how he treated me so poorly if he loved me so much. No matter how badly I tried to forget it, the guilt from his leaving stuck in my throat. He had lost my mother, and then he had lost me--who couldn't feel pity for such a man?
It wasn't too long before we got to the station. It stuck out from the other buildings in the vicinity, for it was hardly touched. It looked weathered, sure, but it was still intact. Even the screens showing train times still worked, but something told me they were slightly off. We walked together around the back of the station, and the most hopeful sight stood proudly in front of us.
Life.
There must have been a good 50 people standing around, blankets over their shoulders, drinking hot beverages from little cups with the smoke gently wafting out of the top. They were huddled behind a makeshift tent, and through the plastic windows, you could see the little medical centre inside, beds and sheets everywhere. It was heaven. It was my way out, my way back to reality, back to a normal life. You could see the coaches lined up, ready to take me away, to take me to a happy summer filled with sweet memories of loving days, and most importantly, to take me home to him. I looked over at Grey and Attica, and they had the same wide smiles on their muzzles. We ran over to the group joyfully without a care in the world.
"We made it!" squealed Grey excitedly.
"We're going to be okay, Grey, we're going to make it through this!" said Attica happily. We got to a little otter wearing a hi-vis jacket, sitting at a table full of paperwork. She marched up to him confidently and gave him a little wink. "Hey, we wanna catch the coach outta here!"
"Well, young lady, you came to the right place. Let us get you all ready to go," said the otter. He gave us three each a form to fill out, and as we hastily scribbled down all our information, a fresh wave of serenity filled the air. We could laugh. We could joke. We could rest, knowing that freedom was a breath away, and normality was in arm's reach.
We soon sat together on the coach, Grey occupying the seat by the window and eagerly gazing at the vanishing City. Attica was sound asleep, her head comfortably resting on Grey's shoulder, softly snoring in peaceful slumber. I sat there restlessly, nervously fidgeting with my thumbs and gazing down at the floor, my heart pounding with anticipation.
The time had finally come to see him once again.