Excerpt: Without a Care in the World

There was quite simply no one there. An explanation of any sort was out of the question as an occurrence such as this was unimaginable. Somehow each and every car, building, park, street, city, state, and nation was devoid of people. Well, that’s what he assumed while frantically running down Birch Street to his mother’s office. It felt a little odd for him, considering the relative quiet of the usually busy morning street. Sam recognized the unusual tranquility because his house, where he had woken up alone, was located on Birch Street. The teenager was embarrassed but he didn’t exactly understand the reason, it just felt strange to be running in a panic while the birds twittered and the sun rose in the sky on a perfect midsummer morning. He would think back to his first few moments of panic at later times with varying emotions.
Initial panic had begun when he searched his house and found no one there. The car was neatly parked in the garage and his sister Rachel’s bed was all made up. For reasons beyond his ability to explain neither the house phone nor his cell phone functioned. Electricity as a whole seemed to have left. In the moments Sam spent contemplating whether the whole morning was a set-up or bizarre dream he heard the chirping of birds. This in and of itself was nothing ordinary, but then, Sam wasn’t used to anything but motors running and cars beeping. Running out of the duplex house he almost fell over as the sight of the morning traffic met his eyes. Everything was exactly as it should have been. The number 21 bus was even picking up Opal on the corner, at least it would have been. Sam even knew the older woman’s name.
At this time he began the panicked run to his mother’s office, although he would admit to himself later that he already knew she would not be there. And so he went on, stopping instinctively at the corners and knowing exactly nothing about what he was to do. The fact was so greatly inconceivable that nothing he could think of could even begin to create an explanation for the sudden disappearance of people. Alien abduction, dreaming, and other non-reality theories came to Sam later as he explored the city.
Despite the adrenaline rushing through his body and the dumbfounded state of his mind, Sam was arguably saner and more mentally-stable than he ever would be. The door to her office was locked and though he pressed the ringer many times, there was no response. Sam pounded against the door until his hands ached before slumping to the ground, defeat apparent. Hot tears welled in his eyes and poured down his chicks. He sat with his back to the shiny black granite and his arms around his knees and his face in his arms.
It wasn’t possible, they couldn’t all be gone; he told himself while sobbing. Sam desperately tried to remember the last words he had spoken to his mom, dad, and sister. That only causes him to shake with anger and silent tears. He remained sitting there until the sun rose to its full height in the sky. A grumble from his resentful stomach protested the lack of food. Not really wanting to leave the spot, he left the shade and walked in between cars to the deli across the street.
In the refrigerated case there were three ham sandwiches that were supposedly prepared freshly that morning. The cheese was somewhat rubbery, but he wasn’t about to walk back home for lunch. All three sandwiches were gone in less than 20 minutes as well as semi-cool bottle of orange juice. The only thing that remained from his meal was a slight stomach ache. With his hunger gone Sam’s thoughts returned to the matter of what to do next. There really wasn’t really anywhere he could think of where people would be, so he decided to go back home. After leaving ten dollars in the register (for no particular reason) he cleaned up the small mess he had made and exited into a sunny afternoon. The heat felt good despite that Sam had always preferred winter to summer.
This time he went on his way walking. If there was no one in his mom’s office, the deli, or any cars, there was surely no one anywhere else. No sense tiring himself out running and the stomach ache prevented any fast movements anyways. Before, as he was crying, the ultimate self-pitying question of ‘why me?’ had been repeated over and over in his mind and as he walked Sam contemplated the question. Sam was 17 years old at the time and a good student in school he respectful to those around him. Of course he often argued with his parents – but what teenager doesn’t? Although he didn’t participate in sports, he liked biking and swimming and playing soccer with his 12 year old sister. Sam, as anyone in his position might consider, thought that maybe his relationship with God was the reason for his solitude. He only ever went to church with his grandparents and then only once or twice a year. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in God or not know what to believe in – He just didn’t care.
Anger, fear, but mostly a bitter sadness bubbled up from his insides. So deeply shaken was Sam from the disappearance of everyone that the emotions were physically affecting him. Each step he took back towards his house caused further quivering of his lips and the gripping of his face by the rampant feelings. When block remained to his house Sam grasped his sides because of the nauseative cramps that seemed to pierce his lungs. He had no key. It had been forgotten in his rush. The door before him was closed and locked, and he had no key.
The obvious answer was to smash the living room window to the right of the door. The same window he had watched the annual Christmas parade through every year since before he could remember… his mother usually sat with his sister on the couch while his father made hot chocolate. The immediate dilemma gave way to a shudder and the feeling of hot tears. Sam mastered himself and went looking for a sizeable rock from the landscaping in front of the house. There it was, and finding it caused further tears to force themselves out of his unwilling eyes. How could he have forgotten? Hidden beneath the stone he had chosen was the spare house key, put there by his father for something like this.
Amidst the tears a chuckle escaped. It was a small thing, but in moments of tremendous emotional pressure Sam would often find himself laughing. It was ironic, he thought, that until now, no one in his house had ever used the key – There was always someone home. He picked up the key but it took him a few moments to get it to fit into the lock. Inside the house he plopped down on the couch and closed his eyes.
What Sam wanted to do was look at each and every picture in the house and lie down on his bed and cook a decent meal and turn on the computer and look for other people who might have been out there but all he could really do was sit and think about doing it. Not surprisingly and not after long did his head begin to throb with a head ache. He swayed as he stood up and slowly went to the kitchen.
He had run through the kitchen before leaving in the morning, but looking around more closely he noticed that there were no signs of any morning activity. This was only odd because it was a Monday morning and usually he was stuck cleaning up the counter and doing the dishes. Sam checked the dishwasher, but last night’s dishes weren’t there. It perturbed him, and only added to the list of head-breaking things to think about and do. So he grabbed a glass, filled it with water from the sink and drank a few cups.
It was about 2:00 p.m. and Sam’s head ache had not gone away. The same dull throbbing that he would later associate with emotional wounding assailed him. Sam didn’t feel able to do anything from his mental agenda and so decided to lie down in his bed. It wasn’t his intention to fall asleep, but the immense normality of lying in his own bed just simply being there, was overwhelming. His eyes slowly closed and his last waking thought was how he wished that everything had just been a dream.
The contrasting coolness of the night air with the previous scorching heat effected an other-worldly clarity that bordered on delirium. Even with his eyes open Sam hardly believed that the mass of flowing white above him was his very own bedroom ceiling. This made believing that he was the last person in the entire world laughable. No. He told himself. He mustn’t jump to such a final conclusion, after all, he had barely seen 15 blocks of an entire city, country, and world, for that matter. He vowed to himself that he would never give up searching for other people – Could they be called survivors. Sam wasn’t sure yet.