The stupid dog would not stop barking. There are only two houses down the street, since we are in the middle of the plains connected only by the dirt road. The freeway, (being the only connection to the outside), had to be at least 12 miles away. There were not really any trees, just dry plains, and the occasional cactus. The wind howled loud, crashing into the house. These small sounds like the dog or the wind never made it to my ears. All I could think about was what the man said on the radio before it went to static. "Don't go outside, don't listen to the humming, don't stare at the sun." What did that really mean?
Uncle Pete was frustrated. He was sitting by the back door on the kitchen table. His dark skin glimmered with sweat. His rough eyebrows dropped along with his back, staining his white shirt held down by his twenty-year-old overalls. Uncle's arms were sat across his chest, strong from the many years of military service. He stared at the blackout curtains covering the back door.
I stopped twiddling my thumb's thinking Uncle was going to say something to me. Uncle Pete just stood there. His presence could sometimes be this lingering, unsettling feeling.
"Jr, what's left in the fridge?"
I was confused. I got up and walked over to the fridge.
"Well, we got some cheese and deli meat."
I looked over to Uncle Pete, now lingering over my shoulder as if he had teleported.
"A whole lotta nothing huh Jr."
Uncle Pete looked exhausted. We both were tired of this shit. I just wanted to go to get a cinnamon roll from the "Wheat Montana" down past the dirt road. They were always gooey and the smell, do not get me started on the smell! If a fine woman came and sat right on your lap, that is what one of these rolls smelled like. That would sure be fine right now. But we have not left the house since the radio alert four days ago.
"All of Gallatin Valley is under lock down. Do not go outside. Cover all your windows and lock your doors until further notice."
I remember the face Uncle Pete made when he heard it. He paced around in a hurry to cover the windows. He mumbled something like "This is ridiculous." He believed most of the stuff since it was the station his old job used. Uncle Pete always told stories about how "that was the only radio station that played sailing the sea." When Uncle Pete would fix up the big planes that would land on the big boat sure enough that station played. He would say, "you could fit every house around here on one of them big boats." Or something like that.
"Jr! We don't have enough food in the cabinet to last 4 more days."
We always went grocery shopping in town on Sundays. Town was far away so we could not just go whenever. The lockdown started on a Friday; I was not too sure though; I have had lost track of the days.
"What about the storm shelter? Uncle there's tons of cans and MRE's* down there."
Uncle Pete sat back down on the table.
"But the man said we can't go outside Jr."
"Uncle what is out there though? Why can't we go outside?"
Uncle Pete sat up and recrossed his arms. He was thinking. I sat there, mimicking his arm movements without thinking about it. It had been quiet for too long.
"Do you think a bomb went off or zombies?"
Uncle smirked at my joke.
"Jr, you know no zombies are going to eat us, not if we don't shower for a week!"
I chuckled.
Uncle Pete and I sat down on the couch and watched some old movie. He claimed "it was the greatest thing he had ever seen" being "a movie of his time," blah blah blah. Every old person says that about movies or music from their time. "Back in my day we didn't have this rap mumbo jumbo." That is often something Uncle Pete would say.
I do not remember too much from the movie. I was quite distracted. Over in the hallway was a red light. It seemed to loom around the front door window.
"Uncle, hey what's making that light"
I tapped his shoulder and pointed. Uncle Pete squinted at the light.
"Well maybe it's the sun, maybe it's smokey out there"
He had gotten up and walked toward the hallway.
I got up after him and followed. Uncle Pete walked toward the door which had a black out curtain covering the top window. The red light had glared out the bottom crack of the curtain. Uncle Pete without hesitation, lifted the curtain and peered out.
I had stared at Uncle; I could not see what was out there. It had been silent for a solid minute. It had felt like an hour. An hour of silence in the hallway. Uncle sat still, staring outside. The red light had hit the wrinkles of his neck and highlighted his face. Some sort of liquid has started running down his shirt. He was drooling.
A fly could have landed on Uncle, he had stood so still. I was becoming uncomfortable, uneasy. I wanted to say something but something came over me. I could not move.
I wanted to break the silence, we could sit back down and finish the movie. Everything could go back to normal. Wasn't that a reasonable wish?
I lifted my hand behind my neck. I pinched my neck and spoke.
"Uncle what do you see- "
"Hahahaha. HAHAHAHAHA!"
Uncle Pete had started laughing. His head still sat in the curtain. More drool fell off his face onto his shirt, some even onto the floor. It was starting to freak me out, so I chuckled too. The curtain shook with his head. Uncle Pete then had at once gone silent. Now it was really freaking me out.
"Uncle Pete, what is going on?"
That was the thing, it was not a funny laugh coming from Uncle. There was a lot of spit behind it. Something you would hear if someone were forcing themselves to laugh. It was something that would come out the mouth of a kid dressed as a clown for Halloween. It was not the Uncle Pete I knew. Uncle Pete stepped back from the curtain to look back at me.
The stupid dog would not stop barking. There are only two houses down the street, since we are in the middle of the plains connected only by the dirt road. The freeway, (being the only connection to the outside), had to be at least 12 miles away. There were not really any trees, just dry plains, and the occasional cactus. The wind howled loud, crashing into the house. These small sounds like the dog or the wind never made it to my ears. All I could think about was what the man said on the radio before it went to static. "Don't go outside, don't listen to the humming, don't stare at the sun." What did that really mean?
Uncle Pete was frustrated. He was sitting by the back door on the kitchen table. His dark skin glimmered with sweat. His rough eyebrows dropped along with his back, staining his white shirt held down by his twenty-year-old overalls. Uncle's arms were sat across his chest, strong from the many years of military service. He stared at the blackout curtains covering the back door.
I stopped twiddling my thumb's thinking Uncle was going to say something to me. Uncle Pete just stood there. His presence could sometimes be this lingering, unsettling feeling.
"Jr, what's left in the fridge?"
I was confused. I got up and walked over to the fridge.
"Well, we got some cheese and deli meat."
I looked over to Uncle Pete, now lingering over my shoulder as if he had teleported.
"A whole lotta nothing huh Jr."
Uncle Pete looked exhausted. We both were tired of this shit. I just wanted to go to get a cinnamon roll from the "Wheat Montana" down past the dirt road. They were always gooey and the smell, do not get me started on the smell! If a fine woman came and sat right on your lap, that is what one of these rolls smelled like. That would sure be fine right now. But we have not left the house since the radio alert four days ago.
"All of Gallatin Valley is under lock down. Do not go outside. Cover all your windows and lock your doors until further notice."
I remember the face Uncle Pete made when he heard it. He paced around in a hurry to cover the windows. He mumbled something like "This is ridiculous." He believed most of the stuff since it was the station his old job used. Uncle Pete always told stories about how "that was the only radio station that played sailing the sea." When Uncle Pete would fix up the big planes that would land on the big boat sure enough that station played. He would say, "you could fit every house around here on one of them big boats." Or something like that.
"Jr! We don't have enough food in the cabinet to last 4 more days."
We always went grocery shopping in town on Sundays. Town was far away so we could not just go whenever. The lockdown started on a Friday; I was not too sure though; I have had lost track of the days.
"What about the storm shelter? Uncle there's tons of cans and MRE's* down there."
Uncle Pete sat back down on the table.
"But the man said we can't go outside Jr."
"Uncle what is out there though? Why can't we go outside?"
Uncle Pete sat up and recrossed his arms. He was thinking. I sat there, mimicking his arm movements without thinking about it. It had been quiet for too long.
"Do you think a bomb went off or zombies?"
Uncle smirked at my joke.
"Jr, you know no zombies are going to eat us, not if we don't shower for a week!"
I chuckled.
Uncle Pete and I sat down on the couch and watched some old movie. He claimed "it was the greatest thing he had ever seen" being "a movie of his time," blah blah blah. Every old person says that about movies or music from their time. "Back in my day we didn't have this rap mumbo jumbo." That is often something Uncle Pete would say.
I do not remember too much from the movie. I was quite distracted. Over in the hallway was a red light. It seemed to loom around the front door window.
"Uncle, hey what's making that light"
I tapped his shoulder and pointed. Uncle Pete squinted at the light.
"Well maybe it's the sun, maybe it's smokey out there"
He had gotten up and walked toward the hallway.
I got up after him and followed. Uncle Pete walked toward the door which had a black out curtain covering the top window. The red light had glared out the bottom crack of the curtain. Uncle Pete without hesitation, lifted the curtain and peered out.
I had stared at Uncle; I could not see what was out there. It had been silent for a solid minute. It had felt like an hour. An hour of silence in the hallway. Uncle sat still, staring outside. The red light had hit the wrinkles of his neck and highlighted his face. Some sort of liquid has started running down his shirt. He was drooling.
A fly could have landed on Uncle, he had stood so still. I was becoming uncomfortable, uneasy. I wanted to say something but something came over me. I could not move.
I wanted to break the silence, we could sit back down and finish the movie. Everything could go back to normal. Wasn't that a reasonable wish?
I lifted my hand behind my neck. I pinched my neck and spoke.
"Uncle what do you see- "
"Hahahaha. HAHAHAHAHA!"
Uncle Pete had started laughing. His head still sat in the curtain. More drool fell off his face onto his shirt, some even onto the floor. It was starting to freak me out, so I chuckled too. The curtain shook with his head. Uncle Pete then had at once gone silent. Now it was really freaking me out.
"Uncle Pete, what is going on?"
That was the thing, it was not a funny laugh coming from Uncle. There was a lot of spit behind it. Something you would hear if someone were forcing themselves to laugh. It was something that would come out the mouth of a kid dressed as a clown for Halloween. It was not the Uncle Pete I knew. Uncle Pete stepped back from the curtain to look back at me.