The Boy From Two Worlds by Jason Offutt

Author:Jason Offutt [Offutt, Jason]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CamCat Publishing

The scroll on the bottom of the morning newscast listed the area schools closed for the day; Thomas suspected it was all of them. He sipped his coffee and stared at the screen, the bass-voiced talking head turning the show over to one of those perky right-out-of-college reporters with a name like Alexa or Jennifer. She stood outside a redbrick building, a giant white ball atop the radar tower behind it like God was playing golf. The woman, maybe twenty-two and bundled in a KQ2 parka and a furry aviator cap, held the mic close, the wind blowing black snowflakes into her face. A thick layer of dark snow rested on the flat building and the ground behind her; the walkway to the front door, shoveled at one point, had started to fill in again, the jet snow covered in footprints.

The camera operator pulled back to reveal a woman in fogged glasses standing next to the reporter.

“Thanks, Cal,” the reporter said. The text under her name read Makayla Creston. “I’m here with Laura Corrales, senior meteorologist at the NWS Forecast Office in Pleasant Hill, Missouri.”

Laura pulled off her glasses and cleaned them with a mitten before sliding them back on.

“This bizarre phenomenon that has struck the four-state region from Butler, to Topeka, to Omaha and Des Moines, has canceled school, concerts—factories have shut down, and churches are filled with parishioners wondering if this is the end times,” Makayla continued.

Cal chuckled, and the broadcast cut to him. He looked at the camera, his unnaturally white smile assuring viewers everything was fine.

“It surely can’t be that bad,” he said. “We came to work.”

Makayla laughed at Cal’s joke because that’s what she was paid to do.

“Right, Cal,” she said, the video switching back to her. “Laura. The National Weather Service has been on the black snow since it began falling in our area last night. What can you tell us about it?”

Laura cleared her throat. “It’s actually called dark snow, and the scientific community has known about it for a long time,” the meteorologist said, her voice calm, firm—the kind of voice people believe. “Through deforestation, the increasing number of wildfires, pollution from industry and automobiles, dust, and soot, ultra-fine black carbon particles spread through the atmosphere and return to earth in the form of gray or black snow.”

Makayla nodded, her serious face on.

“But is it dangerous?” the reporter asked.

A smile graced the scientist’s face. “Only as dangerous as dust, soot, and pollution can be. I’m out here breathing the air, but if you’re worried, a mask would keep out most unwanted particles.”

A yawn from the hallway told him Marguerite was awake; he picked up the remote control and muted Makayla.

Marguerite stumbled and bumped against a wall, then emerged and went right to the kitchen, her hair like she’d run a hand mixer through it. The coffeemaker carafe tinked against the cup she pulled from the cabinet; she grumbled as she poured it. The coffee Thomas made was always too weak for her; Marguerite’s coffee tasted like it was brewed by J.

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