Life, Debunked

My mother says my life is charmed. When I was born, my father gifted me with a charm necklace. It has a locket heart with a star symbol engraved on the front. Inside are pictures of my family.

Shortly before I was born, a massive meteor was discovered to be on a collision course with earth. Scientists predicted a “massive impact, followed by devastating climactic events.” With only a month to this potential extinction event, the U.S. military hit it with a nuclear bomb, but that just split it in two. The new projection was that the bigger piece (still over a kilometer in length) would hit Argentina, and the smaller piece (nearly as big) would hit southeastern U.S. Many smaller pieces were also expected to strike the western hemisphere. A cloud of dust was expected to encompass the earth, blocking the sun, and leading to an ice age.

I was born five days after my family entered my grandfather's bunker. My mother wasn’t sure I would make it. That’s why she calls me charmed. I live with my parents, Reginald (Reggie) and Ronda Porter, and my sisters, Lillian, 14, and Cynthia, 11. Father rules our home with his five laws, which is one reason five-pointed stars are found in every room of the bunker, and on my necklace. The five laws are:

1. Love

2. Peace

3. Family

4. Loyalty

5. Duty.

When any of us fight, father reminds us of these laws, and then we face whatever punishment he deems appropriate. The worst was when Lillian was supposed to braid Cynthia’s hair. Instead, she took Father’s fillet knife and chopped her hair short. Lillian had to do an extra hour on the stationary bike that day, Cynthia was allowed to cut Lillian's hair as short, and then Lillian was sent to our bunkroom during game time.

I just turned nine. My newest star was cut from a tin can and sanded smooth. Father even carved a “J” on it for my name, Janine.

You may be wondering how we’ve managed to survive nine years in a bunker. My grandfather spent most of his life’s savings building the massive facility in Montana. He was mostly concerned about global nuclear war. He died of a heart attack just after finding out about the meteors. Luckily, he taught my father how to run the place as it was being built.

We are always dressed for winter because it is always cold. Sometimes, when it's particularly cold, we snuggle together by connecting our sleeping bags and climbing in as a family. Mother and Father pretend it's a game, but we know that it's for survival.

We have a generator, which we use mostly to power the full spectrum lights for our aquaponic ecosystem. We ran out of fuel three years ago. Father, who got a degree in electrical engineering from the University of Montana, is amazingly handy. He rigged our elliptical machine and stationary bike to charge the generator. Everyone in my family takes turns riding. We all get exercise and observe the five laws. Yes, even peace, because no one is allowed to bother us while we’re “powering.”

Mother and Father are responsible for our schooling. We don’t take tests or get grades like my sisters said schools used to, but I’m proud of what we learn. I’m also glad Grandfather had the foresight to include lots of interesting books in the bunker. My favorite so far is The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.

Our aquaponic room has trout to furnish nutrients to the plants, and in turn, the plants clean the water for the trout. We get to eat the fish and plants. We had three chickens which ate our scraps, including fish guts, but when they stopped producing eggs, father butchered them. Now, our scraps go into the septic tank, which father says may be full soon. We ran out of dried and canned food two years ago, and our huge water tank is nearly empty. We are about to find out if there’s any hope left for us on the outside.

My father tests for viable air while it is dark. He reports that we are a "go" for tomorrow. I will see the real earth soon, and not descriptions, photos, or drawings.

Father tells us to pack a backpack. The one he hands me was my grandfather’s – the one who built the bunker. I take it with respect, knowing Grandfather used the olive-green bag after his service in the Army. My father joined the Reserves, so we are a proud Army family, yet another reason we like stars.

My mother warns us not to pack more than we can easily carry. We’re not sure how long we’ll be gone, or how far we’ll walk.

*

“Be careful now. Watch your step,” Father warns as he leads us up the metal ladder, with his 12-gauge shotgun draped over his shoulder. My sisters, above me, start squealing and giggling.

“What’s so funny?” I ask, but they ignore me.

Father yells down and asks us to pass up some buckets. Mother hands me two five-gallon buckets, which I hand up to Cynthia.

When my sisters finally move away from the opening, I discover the excitement – it’s raining! I have never felt anything like it. It tickles my face as I hasten up the final rungs.

Lillian and Cynthia are spinning in circles with their faces skyward, and their arms out wide. I shed my outer clothing and mimic them, catching droplets in my mouth. Mother and Father hug each other, watching us twirl. The sky is gray, but it’s beautiful, and bigger than I imagined.

All too soon, Father says, “Fall in!” We line up behind him, with Mother guarding the rear.

The land around us is nothing like the photos of a lush Montana which I saw pictured in the bunker. Most of the trees are gray, empty, and dead-looking. The ground is a mix of slippery, wet ash and rock, with some tiny plants peeking through. Life! We walk slowly, looking for any signs of animals. We see precious little. After about an hour, the rain lets up, which is good, because I’m ready to be dry again. That’s when we hear rushing water. Finally, Father stops at the edge of a canyon. To the right is a waterfall, feeding down into a canyon.

Father yells, “Hello!” His voice echoes through the canyon. I never understood what an echo sounds like until now. Soon, we’re all yelling, “Hello!” and listening to the reverberations.

Mother puts her hand out as if to signal stop, and says, “Wait! I think I heard something else.”

We stop and listen. We hear, “I’m over here. Help!” It sounds like a female voice, coming from down in the canyon.

Father leans over and asks, “Are you alone?”

The lady says, “Yes, I was going down for water, and my foot is stuck. Help!” She sounds scared out of her mind.

Father takes a rope out of his backpack and walks to the edge. “I think I see her,” he says. He ties the rope around a boulder and yanks several times to test the strength of his knot as well as the security of the boulder. He rappels down the side. Looking up at me with a grin, he says, "I learned this from your Grandfather." I’m so proud of him for putting his skill to good use.

Once he is out of sight, things get ugly. A very messy-looking man rushes over and points a .22 at us. He says, “Hand me your backpacks now.”

We all look to Mother. She nods, and we start taking our backpacks off. While the man is looking Lillian up and down, Mother pretends to reach for Father’s backpack but grabs the shotgun instead. With a strong, wide stance, she aims it at the man and says, “Now I don’t know if you have any ammunition, but I know that I do, and I used to be a state champion at 50 meters, and I was a biathlete in college.” Without looking away from the man, she tells us, “Girls, get behind me. Don’t you give him a thing.”

We rush to comply. She furls her brow and says, “Drop that gun.”

He says, “Listen, Lady, I’m just trying to survive. Don’t leave me unarmed. Here, I’ll show you it’s empty. You guessed right.” He pulls out the backup clip and throws it to the ground. Then, he pulls the trigger twice while aiming skyward. Click, click. Nothing more happens.

Mother says, “You just stay right there until my husband gets back.”

It doesn’t take long. First, the young lady appears over the cliff, breathing deeply. She collapses as Father jumps lithely to his feet. “Who’s your friend, Rhonda?” he asks Mother with a smirk. He doesn’t seem to think that we’re in danger at this point.

“Just some tired, hungry survivor. Should we let him go? His weapon is empty.”

Father’s eyes narrow, “I don’t know. If he was going to rob us, he might even murder someone. Maybe you should just shoot him.”

Mother takes her eyes off the man for the first time, looking at Father, shocked. The man yells, “No!” holding his hands up as if to block a spray of shot.

Father looks over at the young lady he rescued and asks, “Do you know this man? This wasn’t an ambush, was it?”

The young lady sits up, wincing, and grabs her ankle. She shakes her head adamantly and says, “I’ve never seen him before. He might have heard me yelling. You saved my life from the cliff, and perhaps from him. Thank you.”

Mother says to the man, “Go on. Run fast or I’ll shoot you in the backside, and don’t you go preying on innocents any longer.”

The man runs, yelling, “Yes, ma’am,” over his shoulder.

As Mother hands the gun to Father, Lillian asks with awe, “Mother were you really a state champion?”

Father’s eyebrows shoot up.

Mother says, “I’ve shot a gun or two in my time, but I could barely hit a target. I made that whole thing up. I don’t even know if there's a 50-meter shooting contest. Family is an important part of our five laws. If that means telling white lies to protect you, so be it.” She kneels by the young lady and asks, “What’s your name?”

“Sue-Ellen. I’ve got to get back to my brother. We’re the only ones left in our family.” Her eyes rolling down her cheeks.

Mother says, “Oh dear, you’re a Robinson, aren’t you? I recognize those eyes. You must be about 18 years old.” She looks at Father, tears welling in her eyes. She whispers, “That boy was born just two years before the meteor shower.”

Father says to Sue-Ellen, “Take us to him. We’ll help if we can.” It’s clear Sue-Ellen is in pain, so Father instructs her to climb on his back. She’s so thin, so she probably weighs next to nothing. She directs us to a pile of lumber, which may have been a house at some point. She makes a strange sound twice, perhaps a bird call. A wooden door opens from the ground and for the first time in my life – I see a boy! He walks up some steps. His brown hair is short and sticks up. His eyes scan all of us, but settle on Father, who still has his sister on his back.

Sue-Ellen squirms until Father lets her down and says with pride, “This is my brother, Tom.”

That’s how I met my future husband. Well, a girl can dream, can't she?