THE LONELY HEARTS

The students waited, a little noisy, for the final bell to ring, while their teacher, Miss Lockheart, sat at her desk, grading history papers. The bell rang. She raised her head to dismiss the impatient class, but found herself alone. All of her twenty students had disappeared. She looked at the clock on the wall, showing five-thirty pm. School had long been over.

Being a logical person, she sought a logical answer. Could she have blacked out? Did she all of a sudden begin to suffer from apnea? Did she frighten her students and send one running to the principal’s office for help? If so what was wrong? Did Principal Williams believe that she was intoxicated, dismissed the class, and left her to sleep “it off”? Will she be fired from her job when she is asked to report to the office next morning for an explanation? How could she explain what happened when she does not know?

She has an intense headache. “I must have hit my head on the desk,” she surmised as she stumbled from behind her chair. Getting her purse and car keys, she slowly walked down the isle of empty seats and into the silent hallways that once carried the sounds of laughter and conversations from rowdy children while teachers tried to keep order. Every class was devoid of students and teachers. Also, the principal’s office, the bathrooms, the dining room and even the gymnasium were bare and eerie. Had there been an apocalypse; and was she the only one left?

She hurried across the deserted parking lot to where only her car was parked. As she drove down the quiet street, she realized that there were no houses, cars, people, or even animals to be seen.

“Where did everyone and everything go,” she asked herself, “and why it is so hot?” She turned on the air conditioner. Only hot air blew from its vents. “What am I thinking,” she thought, “there must be some news on the radio,” but the knob would not turn because it had become glued to the dashboard. So, she rolled down her windows, only to smell the burning rubber from the tires scorching on the asphalt. The inside of the car began to heat up like an oven. She feared that she was going to explode into a ball of fire if she did not get out of the car and find shade, but then she realized that there were no trees to protect her. Even the river that she drove across everyday going to work was dry. She reached for the bottle of water that she kept in her car, to quince her thirsty throat, but found it empty and the plastic deflated and very warm, as was her steering wheel. To give herself a boost of encouragement and hope, as it always did, she gently caressed the heart-shaped locket, that held a lock of her mother’s hair, which she wore around her neck. Suddenly, by the light from the intense sunlight, she observed long lines of men, women and children walking slowly down the side of the highway as they held hands.

Over-joyed to see other humans, she slowly drove pass the stoic people, hoping to find her students, and other personnel from her school. She did not recognize any of their faces. They were all strangers. To get a reaction from anyone that would take the time to tell her what had occurred, she honked and honked her horn. No one glanced her way, or changed their gaits, or talked to each other.

For once she was glad that she was an only child, or that she never married nor had children, nor have parents that were alive to experience such an event. It was the ultimate nightmare.

With the motor still running, keys in the ignition and purse sitting on the seat, she parked her car on the other side of the road. Clutching the little heart-shaped locket, she walked across the road and joined the others.