Ghosts In Garfield

I'd expected the announcement, I hadn't expected the jolly tone. "Annnnnnnd just like that, the world is ending!" The voice resembled that of a perky preschool teacher. "Pack your bags, folks!! We're four hours from freedom!"

I traded looks with my parakeet.

"Or, I guess...don't pack your bags," said the intercom voice. "Doesn't really matter now, does it?" The chirpy laughter that followed was dipped in moral turpitude.

With clumsy judgement, I snapped my laptop closed and loaded my backpack. I grabbed Skittles' birdcage and left my apartment. I considered locking my door. No real point now. I made my way to the elevators.

I pressed the down button.

"Did ya hear the announcement?!"

I responded without turning. "Uh huh."

"End of the world? NOW?"

I snorted. "Really, Margorie? You didn't get the emails, texts, calls...app alerts?"

"I don't believe in the internet."

Ding!

We entered the elevator together. Margorie and her chest-high sweatpants leaned against the back handrail, just beneath a colorful poster housing the words "Welp, this was fun! World ends on 12/14. See ya never!"

Margorie bit her nails between words. "What I don't understand is, why a Tuesday? Seems rather uneventful for such an...event. Right?"

"Right." I checked my watch. About 220 minutes left to live.

"In winter, too," said Margorie. She bit down a bit too far on a finger and yelped. Shaking her wounded hand she said, "They're gonna end things now? In all this gloom?"

Ding!

"Well, gloom rhymes with doom so... there's that." Before she could respond, I dashed out of the elevator. Shouts and sobs whirled about the lobby. A flood of people rushed this way and that, desperate to reach their loved ones.

"Minnie?" wept one man into his phone. "It's Marcus from crochet class. I - I never told you this before but... I've always loved-"

I pushed my way through the revolving door.

The world looked so much like itself, I almost forgot we'd reached the end. Cars still honked through traffic, dogs barked and played. Vendors persisted in selling their wares. I considered buying one last street taco.

Someone tapped my shoulder. I knew who it was immediately. I placed the cage on the concrete and embraced my old friend. I shut my eyes as tightly as our hug.

Emma's pocket beeped. We let go of one another. Fishing for her phone she said, "I won't miss you, you know."

"Oh?" I laughed with a watery smile.

"Yeah, we're going to the same place, so I'll see ya a few hours from now."

"At least we can count on a planned apocalypse." Our fading laughter was consumed by rumbling trucks nearby.

Emma stooped low and steadied the bird cage on a knee. "You'll join us too, Skittles." My parakeet bobbed his head. Emma placed the cage in my hands and held them there a moment. She sighed. "I've gotta walk up the block. Say goodbye to the bf. He's all touchy about the lovey-dovey stuff, you know. I'd rather not hear his grousing for eternity." She pointed upwards as she spoke.

I exhaled through my nose. "Gotta love Tyrone. Tell him I said goodbye, will ya? I'm off to catch the train."

Emma dabbed her lower eyelid. "Yeah. Yes. Um, yeah, I will."

We parted ways in much the same way paper rips when unprepared. It felt messy, unpredictable. Jagged. Frail.

I watched the minutes slip away as I rode the southbound red line. It was far less crowded than expected. Maybe most people preferred to perish downtown.

I knocked twice on my mother's front door. It opened before I'd gotten in my third. A harsh set of features glared at me. She looked me up and down. She shoved my left shoulder.

"You're late. Again," she said.

"But for the last time, right?" I leaned in to kiss her cheek. She pulled away and tutted. She took a step back to allow me entry. I took off my coat, scarf and mittens and passed them to my mother. I slipped off my boots and offered them to her. She waved my salt-stained size 9's away.

Dressing herself in what else I'd given her, she said, "If I miss getting to see the rest of my grandbabies, I'll rob you of Heaven itself."

I checked my watch. "Nyora lives ten minutes from here. You'll be fine." I watched my mother check her mail one last time. Forget and then remember her keys, one last time.

"Adira is in her room," she said, twisting the doorknob.

"Tell my sister I said hi, huh?"

"You and I both know ain't no family of ours wanna hear from you."

"Yeah, well, tell her anyway," I whispered.

My mother lingered by the door, seeming to filter through emotions. After a while she whispered, "Ok." The door clinked shut behind her.

I walked over to the grand piano and grabbed the frame set face down. A picture of me with the rest of the family. Back before I'd made that string of mistakes. Back when we'd all shared the same last name. I rubbed the dust off the frame and set the image face up. I set down my backpack and carried Skittles down the hall.

She smelled me before she saw me. A perfect little voiced exclaimed, "You smell like snickerdoodles!"

I chuckled. "Did a little pre-visit baking is all!" I kissed her forehead and adjusted her heated blanket. When I poked her nose, I fell deeper in love with that reflexive smile. "Just lay tight," I said. "A couple hours from now, it'll all be better."

"What's happening out there?" Adira asked. She turned and coughed a wet and laborious sort of cough. The kind the doctor had warned us about.

I lay down next to her and felt her forehead for fever. "The world is...changing, baby."

Windchimes tinkled just outside. A breeze blew in from the crack in the window. "I'm not dumb, Mom. I know there's more to it than that." I kissed her little fingers and held them close to my heart. I could smell the sugar on her breath. Grandma must've given her cinnamon cake before I'd arrived - hence the cough.

"Ah, honey," I said, "you're the smartest little cookie I know."

"Smarter than Skittles?"

"Smarter than Skittles."

Adira coughed a few more times before turning to face me. I'd expected her to panic about what might be happening in the world, beg for answers and another slice of cinnamon cake. Instead, she said, "Tell me a story."

"What do you want to hear about?"

"Tell me your favorite story! The one about your big trip abroad! I just want to hear your voice, Mama."

I took a deep breath and wrapped my arms around her. I fiddled with a few of her long and perfect curls. "You comfy?" I asked.

"I'm comfy! You comfy?"

"I'm comfy." I cleared my throat. "Once upon a final time..."