This appears in a pre-2010 issue of Down in the Dirt magazine.
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 Order this writing in the 2009 book Crawling Through the Dirt |
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“Should we put the top back on, let the carbon monoxide end things quick... or would you rather us put on our best poker faces and wait it out?”
Jason looked down at his watch and smiled sadly.
“Only five more minutes now.”
They sat in Jason’s red convertible, parked at the edge of a high cliff overlooking Washington D.C. The sun was just beginning to set over the gray skyscrapers, casting a soft pink and orange glow over the dull giants below. It had always been their spot, their observation deck, viewing Heaven, Hell and world in between. Now they sat in silence, knowing that this sunset, so like and unlike any other they’d ever witnessed, would signify the dawn of a frightening new age.
To those that knew them, they were Jason Taylor and Emma Wolfe. To those that didn’t, he was the President’s son and she, being an average citizen, wasn’t significant enough to matter. But now, sitting up on the cliff, they were simply two lost souls out of countless others, overlooking the trial and tribulations of a nation killing themselves to live.
Emma laughed nervously, and laid a shaky hand on Jason’s stiff arm.
“If you think about it, both endings are as simple as pushing a button. Forget the ‘nuclear age’, this is really the age of convenience.”
They were silent once more, each word adding extra weight to the air, making it harder to breathe. Finally, never one to hold her tongue, Emma’s lips quivered.
“I’m scared.”
Jason released his bone-crushing grip on the steering wheel and let his arms fall helplessly to his sides.
“So am I.”
“I love you Jason...”
“I’ve always loved you.... I’m sorry you had to get involved with me.”
“Please don’t say that. There is no where I’d rather be than here in these last few moments of peace with you. The world would still be facing the same crisis in a couple of minutes, if I had met you or not. The only difference is that I would only know about it until everyone else does... and you know I’ve never been one for ignorance.”
She tried to smile at this, but it came out as a grimace.
“Sometimes ignorance is the best thing,” he replied sadly.
“Oh c’mon, you’re sounding just like your father, Mr. President. I know you don’t believe in that mentality.”
Jason grew frustrated with himself.
“Well how do you explain two teenagers, sitting on a cliff and knowing that an atomic bomb will be dropped in approximately,” he glanced down feverishly at his watch, “four minutes in some undisclosed country across the Atlantic, while the rest of the world is eating dinner or watching TV?”
He was shaking now. He inhaled quickly and deeply, almost gasping for breath before he continued.
“I was born into this curse. The curse of knowing the true extent humanity’s thirst for power and control. Do you know how much of a burden it is to grow up knowing that everyone on the planet besides your family and your associates are born into a world of lies? That the history books you read in class and the bibles you read in church have been rewritten by your ancestors to adhere to their deceits? That everyday, by blood association, by a generation of genes, you are carrying on a legacy of power obtained through death and a blindfold that has been tied again and again over a world of blinded eyes. I was born with hands stained by the blood of millions.”
He was breathing heavily now. The weight on his conscious had not lifted, and he knew that he’d eventually have to die with it.
Emma stared distantly towards the skyline, perhaps to somewhere over the North Atlantic ocean, where in a few minutes some country would be reduced to nothing more than an nonexistent colored shape on a map. She had a feeling that it was what would soon become of everything. A pile of ashes, pieces of desolate wasteland labeled with obscure names on pretty colored blobs.
“Wherever the bomb hits... is there any hope that, you know... there will be any survivors?” Emma stammered.
“This bomb is a hundred times worse than Hiroshima. The whole country will be obliterated. The surrounding ones, though not even specifically targeted, will get the worst of it. They’ll be the ones slowly suffering the aftereffects, radiation and whatnot. This is what will cause the chain reaction... nuclear retaliation powerful enough to destroy the world a thousand times over--” Jason stopped short.
“I’m sorry... what am I thinking, I’m scaring you even more.”
“It’s okay. We’re both scared,” she said simply. She grasped his hand.
“You can’t always take everything on your shoulders... I know you didn’t choose this life just because your father did.”
“I know, but I can’t help it. It’s hard enough to live with yourself without knowing all of this.”
Jason sighed, tilted his head back and ran his fingers through his hair.
“What kind of man reveals his plans but not his motives? Like it’s some glorified game of battleship and not the fate of the rest of the world, it’s sick.”
Emma squeezed his hand hard, and he got goosebumps.
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” she said quietly.
The sun had seemingly taken a great plunge in the deepening purple of the sky, and shadows had already begun to creep up around them, shooting out of the ether like doomed flower blossoms. The stillness and silenced crept forward like the passage of time.
Two minutes.
Jason shifted closer to Emma, and when she turned he looked into her eyes.
“What are you thinking about?” He asked.
“That I haven’t done everything I’ve wished to do in life.”
“Neither have I.”
“I’ve always wanted to go backpacking around Europe,” she sighed and put her head on his shoulder.
“I wanted to write a book some day, use some of my influence to do some good...”
“I’ve always wanted to make love on top of the Eiffel Tower.”
He couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Her cheeks flushed.
“What!?”
“Didn’t it used to be on top of the Rockerfeller Center in Time Square?”
“I’ve changed my mind, the Eiffel Tower seems more... romantic. I don’t want much to do with this country anymore, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.”
He looked down at his watch.
“Less than a minute.”
“And to think... we’re the fortunate ones...” she said absently, sounding very far away. “I wonder what my folks are doing right now.”
“Something entirely more innocent that what mine are doing,” Jason laughed bitterly.
She looked at him humorlessly, and ran her hand along his tense face. She brought it to her own and kissed his lips with subtle urgency, like their movement could justify both of their existences. When she moved away, he looked to his watch with a quickening pulse.
“Only a few more seconds now...”
Emma, eye’s squeezed shut, clutched onto Jason as if he would suddenly be ripped away from her.
“When this is all over, I’ll be seeing you in Heaven...” she whispered.
The alarm on his watch began to beep, ringing hollow into the deadweight air, getting lost within the shadows of the last rays of light, like hope, disappearing over the Washington skyline.
“I’m already going to Hell.”
