To The Second

Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Faith holds her breath and clenches her little fist—anticipation beads upon her forehead.

The world’s longest second comes to an end with the whisper, “Zero.”

The door to the house swings open to reveal an indiscriminate being covered head to toe with an amalgamated fashion of fabric. Faith launches forward to the intruder, and the pendant swings free on the necklace laced about her neck. The form of a man opens its arms invitingly, and Faith grabs upon every piece of fabric she can manage as if it is a rope above an endless abyss.

She breathes out the endearing phrase that should have lost meaning long ago but only ripens with age, “Welcome home, father.”

The encompassing hands of her father reach around, securing her to him, “Good to be home, sweetheart.”

The two separate the embrace only to place their right hands together. The indents of two hearts line up as soft flesh meets calloused terrain. Her father sighs, “Well named.” Faith retorts, “Well raised.” He chuckles behind the scarf wrapping up his head.

Far across the house, a strained voice sounds, “Charter? Is that you?”

The father, Charter, picks up his daughter with ease, “Yes, my dear. Faith just caught me at the door.”

Faith hugs her father’s neck as they enter the soft, candle-lit kitchen. A glisten comes from every surface. Not a crooked thing can be found. Even utensils placed around find themselves in straight lines. Faith’s mother, Mint, is actively walking about with frustration, eyes scouring the room.

She pauses to greet them as they enter, replacing a grimace with a smile, “Faith ready by the door again? You’d think that after seven years, she’d miss it at least once. Whatever superpower you got when you were five is curious.”

The lighthearted words are met with grins. Charter begins the process of removing the many layers. Faith sits on the floor, patiently looking at the kitchen window. Past the window is a layer of concrete obstructing the view of the beyond. Thinking back to early memories, she can recall once ever seeing something other than the granite lock. A faint recollection of blurred blues and greens and sitting upon her father’s shoulder to enjoy it. Now those colors are only found in the dulled clothing hanging in closets.

Faith scoots over to grab hold of her father’s leg. She giggles as he drags around the polished floor, and Mint complains that she will scratch it. Her father reaches down and picks her up again to carry her to the dinner table.

A few minutes pass, and the family is sitting around the table digging into the much-seasoned meal. The bowls look more edible than the mush within them, but each individual happily engorges themselves on the meal.

Eventually, Charter turns to his daughter. He smiles down at her, “And what have you done today?”

She sits with her mouth agape, and her mother cuts in snarkily, “Yeah, tell him everything.” She looks up to see that the warming grin of her father has remained unchanged.

She builds her courage and says, “I’ve been writing a story.” Her father was the one to teach her writing. Since the Flakes fell, kids can’t go outside for very long, so the schooling her father talks about has never been available to her.

His smile widens, “That sounds like a worthwhile endeavor. I sure hope you’ll let me read it someday.”

Faith shows her smiling teeth, and some food falls into her lap. Mint huffs but continues to eat. After that, The young child is copying her father’s way of partaking in the meal, trying to copy every move. Another drop falls from her mouth to the floor.

Her mouth screeches the chair back, coming to her feet, “Enough! I am sick of your messes! Go to bed.”

As if to push the point, an explosion sounds beyond the walls that tremble under its power. The trembling subsides, and her mother remains standing, pointing down a hall that leads to Faith’s room. Faith looks up to her father, and he is tightly clenching his jaw.

With tears reflecting from the floor, Faith goes to her room with Mint whispering other complaints she is glad she can’t hear.

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After dinner, Faith, all dressed for bed, leans her ear to the crack of the door to hear her parents talking amongst themselves. There are words exchanged about her, but eventually, they mention the explosion. Her father mentions the guild is trying a new technique to lift the Flakes. She hears him say it’s dangerous, and her hand instinctively grabs at the pendant on her necklace.

Finally, steps echo into the hall, and she knows he is coming to say goodnight. When he slips in the door, she is already hiding away in her sheets. He rolls his eyes and sits on the bed.

“Do you want to hear about before the Flakes fell?”

She nods in silence with eyes wide.

“The outside world once tasted alive. A bright light shone down upon us all, with the glow of a million candles—every nook and cranny filled with the shining. Brilliant colors bragged from every corner. The air felt gracious. As if it wanted to share more than you could take. Ecosystems of people roamed from place to place.”

Faith scrunched her nose. Her father grinned knowingly, “Right. An ecosystem is an interconnected system of living organisms. Like us.”

Faith nods.

Charter taps her nose, “Now, where was I? Oh yes! Structures roamed among the sky higher than you could see. From the top of them, your sight would be engulfed with oceans of lights and motion as the world operates on its normal schedule. In the distance are the massive structures of gray that denote the industry of creation. The source of all things man-made in society. That was the greatest gift to the world. It eventually became the greatest weakness. Experiments to find new means of production. Many things were tried over the years, but one man made a fatal error that led to the worst scientific destruction man-kind had ever experienced. A force that shook the earth, lifted the industrial landscape, and littered the sky with a gray haze. Darkness fell upon the earth instantly. Millions left their homes to see the brilliant display. Mothers, fathers, children, and pets. Then the Flakes began landing. People’s curiosity got the best of them. They opened their mouths to the foreign particles. The air began to thicken until the true horror was realized. People began to choke and scream as the Flakes became cement within their bodies.”

Charter feels the covers shivering and pauses. He had gotten caught up in the memories for a moment, but he returns his attention to the impressionable young one.

“But, as time went on, people used water mixed with the Flakes to seal off their homes and protect them from the toxic air. Now we stay here nice and safe. One day when you are older, the air will be clear, and you will build a new world where mine has been buried. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

Faith’s head bounces up and down on her pillow.

“Alright. I will hold you to it.” He leans down and kisses her forehead, “Now get some sleep. I will see you in the morning when I’m leaving. We will set our lockets.”

Faith yawns and shows off the heart-shaped mark on her hand imprinted there through squeezing the locket attached to her necklace, “Nighty night, dad.”

Her eyes flutter, and Charter stands and approaches the door to leave. He glances back and watches with a face of adoration. It falls stoic as he turns to leave.

Faith lies in dark silence as dreams consume her bringing back a delightful memory for once.

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Faith’s eyes are red and puffy as her father kneels down to her, sighing with a grin, “What am I to do to appease my princess?” Faith just wines in response.

Her father raises a finger, “I know!” He reaches forward and grabs the heart-shaped locket she is wearing. Inside is a timepiece ticking away. He pulls out his own and puts them side by side. With the push of a button, both spindles reset and tick in unison.

Faith cocks her head.

Charter points to a tick mark on the watch, “When that spindle meets that point, I will return.”

Wonder fills her countenance, “Right then?”

“To the second.”

The red eyes squint in glee, and little arms wrap around a large torso.

Sweet goodbyes end with the closing of a door and a little girl sitting cross-legged watching the door.

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Faith awakes and hops from her bed. She can already hear the rustling of layers slipping over each other down the hall. She hurries out of the room and finds her dad preparing for the trip outside.

The rest of the house is still sleeping, so the two of them converse in hushed voices. As her father wraps the scarf around his neck, he kneels to make his face level with hers and pulls out the locket. Faith follows suit. They open them and, in synchronized fashion, depress the button and bring the ticking to a single, perfect noise.

“I will return to you, my little author,” he taps her nose, and she nuzzles his hand.

“Be safe, dad. And no playing with those loud, shaky things.”

His laugh this time is deep and true, echoing in the house, “I’ll do my best. And you stay out of trouble with mom.”

Faith rolls her eyes, “Fiiiine. As long as you come home and put me to sleep tonight.”

“Deal.”

Her father transits away, and she watches lethargically. The day goes on as normal, with bickering and complaining and whining. No matter what the day holds, Faith always looks forward to that tick on the locket.

As she is jotting into her page, she glances at the locket to see she only has 30 seconds left. She screeches and jumps to the floor, scurrying to the front of the house. She falls to the floor, watching the locket carefully. Long seconds tick away.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Zero.

She waits. And waits.

She looks at the locket confused, “Zero?”

She looks back at the door, “Zero. Zero? Zero!”

Her cries quickly become hysterical. Mint yells from the kitchen to quiet down in an unpleasant way, but Faith can’t register it. She is screaming at the door that won’t open. So she opens it.

Without consideration, her little arms throw open the first door and then the second that leads outside. Her feet carry her across the scratchy ground and through a windy gray mist. Her sleeve covers her mouth, and her eyes can only squint.

Then she feels them—hundreds of little cuts covering her body. The Flakes swirl violently around her at high speeds, but all she can feel is the warm blood that is streaking her petite arms and drenching her clothing. The faintness comes quickly and sucks away her conscious mind. Her strawberry body slumps down to the ground.

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A rugged hand cradles her head as she slips back to life. Instinctively, her hand rises to find her metal heart. She grabs it with all of her strength.

Her awareness is shaky, but soon she finds the comfort of her bed holding her up. Glassy eyes look up to see a blurry giant above delicately wrapping her arm with a bandage. The image clears, revealing her father, who is smiling softly with a clenched jaw.

An obvious question flutters upon both lips. Her father pulls his locket off and opens it to reveal the ticking device. A second later, his locket indicates the tick she had waited for. Relief swells within her.

He rubs her cheek and whispers, “To the second, my sweet future.”