A Land of Ash by David Dalglish & David Mcafee & John Fitch V & Daniel Arenson & Robert Duperre & Mike Crane

Author:David Dalglish & David Mcafee & John Fitch V & Daniel Arenson & Robert Duperre & Mike Crane
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction, Short Stories, Short Stories (Single Author), Fiction
ISBN: 9781456376789
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2010-11-20T05:00:00+00:00

Last Words

by Michael Crane

As Harold waited for his son, he looked out his window and stared at the ash covering the ground. Florida might’ve been better off than other parts of the country, but the ash was still there. A constant, grim reminder of what had just transpired only a few weeks ago. The sky appeared forever gray and showed no signs of changing whatsoever. It looked like winter in the Midwest.

A damn shame, he thought. Still, he was alive. That was what really mattered. Many had died and lost loved ones. There were parts of the country that wouldn’t recover for years to come. A tragic situation, yes, but he was still alive.

He just wished that his son Gary felt the same way.

It wasn’t because Gary was acting coldhearted. Quite the opposite. His son was devastated, but the truth was people said horrible things after a nasty breakup. You never meant the things you said in the heat of an argument. He tried to tell him that many times, but Gary seemed to think it was the end of everything as he knew it.

At least he agreed to come over and talk. He was thankful for that much.

He heard a knock at the door. It startled him, but he collected himself and he went to the door with a smile on his face.

“Glad you could make it,” he said.

His son only gave him a simple nod. He looked terrible. He hadn’t shaved in days. His face was smeared gray with ash. Even though he was wearing a long jacket, Harold noticed that his clothes were terribly wrinkled. He also smelled the scent of booze.

Not the best state to see your own son in, but it could’ve been worse. Far worse.

He let him inside and told him to make himself comfortable.

“Got any scotch?” Gary asked.

Harold held in his frown. “Um, afraid I don’t,” he lied. “Please, just have a seat.”

Gary rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. He sat on the couch while Harold chose the recliner next to it.

“I can’t stay long.”

“Fine. Plans?”

“No. Just can’t stay long.”

Harold was at a loss for words. He didn’t even know where or how to begin. The fact that his son didn’t want any part of it didn’t make things easy, either, but he had to be strong. Focus, he thought. He feared for his son’s life. Dammit, he had to try something. Anything.

“Gary, you know I love you. Right?”

Again, his son rolled his eyes. “Dad, I’m not twelve.”

“That don’t mean anything. I’m just trying to tell you that I love you… and I’m worried about you, to be honest.”

“Worried about what, exactly?” Gary asked, without looking at his father.

How could he possibly explain to his son everything he was feeling without coming off as one of those dreadful TV dads that everybody made fun of? That was his biggest fear. To come off as insincere or rehearsed. If he did, he’d lose him. Gary wouldn’t listen to a damn word he had to say.

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