What We See

I didn’t think the instability would come this far north. The rebellion seemed isolated to Washington and Wall Street. Many believed the American military would quickly get things under control. Those responsible for disrupting the American way of life would then be put in jail and life would go on. Nobody predicted the extent to which the armed men and women had been radicalized. Ideologues had infiltrated the military and police. Silently, without anyone outside being aware, individuals joined tribes which included neo-liberal corporatists who wanted to maintain the status quo, environmental activists frustrated at the world's slow response to the climate crises, and the usual extreme groups inspired by religious fanaticism. And moving among all these groups were instigators from foreign goverments who wanted to see America crumble. And so on March 2024 America stopped working and started fighting.

Initially the protests and isolated battles that erupted were cause for celebration among the many Americans who had grown fed up with suffering while fat-cats ran the country. Extreme weather had caused food shortages and an excessive number of homeless families. The health care system which was strained due to various pandemics had turned health care into a luxury item. There were so many people who had little to loose they took to fighting believing it would save the country. Everyone wanted media attention and so events became more extreme every week. At first it was just looting and protests but then things escalated. Warehouses were exploded. Going to a gas station became a dangerous activity as climate activitists eager for clicks saw how effective one loan citizen's homemade bomb was at drawing attention to their cause. The power grid and cellular network became unstable. Soon regional hospitals were being attacked although nobody was sure who was behind these attacks.

I tried to continue with my life. Living in upstate New York we were at least able to grow and hunt our own food. I wanted to believe everything would return to the way it was and the babies I delivered would go to school, learn to drive, cause their parents grief, go to college and get a job. After the entire east coast was destroyed by a series of mega-storms I realized this was a fantasy. The UN was letting the US self destruct. The cities that formed the back bone of our country laid in ruins looking exactly like their imagined digital post-apocalyptic selves.

Time marched on and the life we knew fell apart. I gave up being a midwife. To bring life into this world one needed to believe there was a future for mankind on this planet and my optimism had been knocked out of me the day I watched a new mother’s joy turn on a dime as an infant in its last moments on this earth flew past me. Moments later we dusted off the rubble and stood up only to realize we were dead but still alive. I stared at the mother’s heart shape locket she was clutching rather than look her at her grieving eyes.

With the town destroyed, I had no desire to migrate with the remaining souls to Shuino a pop-up city up north. Instead I found comfort in an abandoned victorian near Hu Huazi, previously known as Lake Cayuga, with a small community of similar minded survivors who collectively scavenged for food and left each other alone to heal. We were a community of zombies; alive but dead emotionally and intellectually. One day while looking for supplies we found some old canvases and cans of house paint tucked away in the back of a barn. Joanie went outside and found some sticks and made some brushes from the hay and string we found lying around. Painting she figured would help distract us from rumbling stomachs and frozen fingers. I started to paint the hospital perched on a cliff above the lake. Joanie saw it and was reminded of the the child she had given birth to in happier times. She dipped a broom in the paint and made a sweeping gesture as she voiced her baby’s final cry. Once that happened I realized what I had to do. I grabbed one of the brushes she had made and dipped it in the black, mushing it with the wet white paint to create smoke. We both started to work at pushing the paint around and building it up recreating the feelings and emotions we had on that snowy spring day. Green and blue soft washes among the smoke and snow mixed with explosive marks and the remnants of the hospital where we together had spent our last happy seconds. The two of us worked together one responding to the other. We were making visual Jazz. Eventually, the two of us fell back onto some hay and looked at our creation and started laughing. It was the first time either one of us had laughed in a long time and it felt wonderful. Joanie’s heart locket glistened in the sun streaming in through the cracks. Then Joanie stood up and took her pocket knife out and cut a small piece of the painted canvas with drips of bright color on it and put it in the locket. I knew after that, life and humanity would go on.