 |  |
The president and politics—oh, how I dread those two topics. Could you tell I’ve avoided those subjects since you entered my mind? I don’t like going there. Yes, there’s turmoil in America, with the far right and the far left and the hatred between the two parties and our president. I get that, and I try to stay neutral. But with other countries like Russia, China, Iran, and Israel having ongoing issues, it makes me question why we can’t get along. Are you a stubborn Trump conspirator or a virtue-signaling liberal progressive? I won’t judge you; I won’t even tell you which party I prefer. I only wish we would stop all the bickering and learn to live together.
We both could give our perspectives on America’s economy, sky-rocketing inflation, the wavering stock market, gas prices, power-grid breakdowns, broken food chains, and environmental catastrophes that could be due to any number of factors, but why bother? Enough already.
What we need is someone strong who can quickly and effortlessly draw both sides to the center and implement sensible policies, not only for here in the States but also for the entire planet. Someone who could stop these nonsensical wars and invasions of countries. Someone. Please. No more fighting. I’m weary of it. Please admit it, so are you. We need a savior, someone who can turn this all around. Make everything acceptable for everyone. Right now.
After disconnecting the call, I tap my phone to life again. I have an idea: Maybe Mark has heard from Denny. I don’t have him on autodial, but I remember calling him a couple of weeks ago; I search in my phone’s database for a 602 Arizona area code. Pressing the recall number, I wait to hear Mark’s ebullient voice. His machine answers with a perky greeting, saying he’d love to take my call, but he’s out of the office, and that I should please text or email him my order. That’s the Mark we know and love, always the happy, helpful salesman, even if he has found a new religion.
I wait for the beep and start my message. “Hey, Mark. Have you heard from Denny? Thought he may have talked to you recently. Please let me know. Hugs to Melissa. Oh, this is Sarah.”
After swiping the “Disconnect” button, I recheck my calls. Since I already talked to Mom, I erase her message without listening to what’s undoubtedly a disheartening report.
I review Zoey’s terse text about having been stood up and reply: Where R U now? All OK? Call me! I must ask her about our finances, especially if the economy might collapse. And yes, she’ll need to tell me about her latest dating disaster.
Within seconds, I get a return text from her: I’m fair. Idiots everywhere. Stuck in traffic. Will stop by when home.
Looking forward to it is my reply.
I send Silvia a quick text that I hope she doesn’t get until morning, mentioning how sorry I am to hear about the kids being missing.
I don’t know how you feel right now, but I’m not in the mood to speak to any other human being for the rest of the day unless it’s Denny.
What a crazy day.
I’m drained both physically and mentally. Could the meds be wearing off already, and fatigue is starting to envelop me? I turn my phone’s screen off and stick it in my pants pocket in case my husband happens to call.
After heading for the couch in our living area, I pick up the remote control for the flat-screen television hanging above the fireplace and click it on. Even though Alexa’s remains are strewn on the hearth, at this second, I’m too tired to clean her up—I need a shut-down-and-regroup break. My energy is spent. But at least I’m not in any physical pain. Emotional pain is another matter. This day can’t get any worse. Although I tell myself I’m still in control, I feel like a train wreck.
What do you think is going on here?
At least I know you’re not missing, too.
Got any answers or theories for me? How do you interpret all this?
I prop the heels of both my bare feet on the glass coffee table’s wrought iron legs in front of me.
Let’s get our president’s viewpoint.
The news station appears with the background of the same flashing photos I saw on the Internet. A newscaster says they’re interrupting their coverage for a statement by the president of the United States.
The television revives my almost-spent attention.
“Good evening, fellow Americans. I have a brief statement to make.”
Do you think our leader looks pensive with those steely blue eyes staring at the camera? I’m sure he is trying not to falter or break down. It must be a hard speech to give so quickly after what’s happened.
When he starts speaking, it’s obvious he’s reading a teleprompter, as his eyes slowly move back and forth, barely blinking:
Due to the unusual events of less than two hours ago, it’s my duty to inform you, the citizens of the United States and the world, of the status of our country, our earth. As many of you know from watching the news, searching on the Internet, and listening to the radio, across the nation and throughout the world, many of our family members and friends recently inexplicably vanished. Like each one of you, my wife and I mourn our loved ones who have disappeared. We all hope and wish they will somehow be in touch or show up on our doorsteps momentarily.
His words are said in a monotone, lacking excitement and tranquility.
Right now, all of us feel deep pain. We already are grieving for our missing young children and babies, innocent and with little understanding. We lament the twelve hundred plus who may have lost their lives in three major airline accidents which occurred within minutes of each other, and we mourn the lives of our loved ones tragically claimed in auto, boat, bus, plane, or train accidents around the globe.
We don’t know yet how many are missing, only that the numbers may be chillingly high. My family and I have close relatives counted among them, including our precious grandchildren; we know the pain, loss, fear, and heartbreak that you are, no doubt, feeling as well.
You can see by his rigid demeanor how hard he is trying to stay stoic and calm. I bet if I had to make this speech, I would be weeping right now, would you?
I regret to say that so far, with quick research, every country, state, city, town, community, and family everywhere may have somehow been affected by this phenomenon. European, Asian, African, North and South American, and Australian countries have been reporting these tragedies. It seems that there’s not one human on earth, our blessed planet, untouched by this catastrophe.
He pulls out a handkerchief and dabs his eyes. Then he takes a sip of water and continues.
As of this minute, top scientists and all national security agencies, as well as state, county, and local government personnel from across the U.S. and other countries, will be concentrating their collective resources around the clock to find out why this has happened, what can be done to prevent it from happening again, and how we can go about bringing back those who are missing. Clothing, articles, and personal belongings they’ve left behind will be examined and scrutinized.
Already we tend to believe that a deadly virus or type of biological, chemical, or organic compound or even weapon is the culprit. We are considering that the unique sound heard at the same time around the world might have triggered a chain reaction, causing many to disappear. Unlike our lengthy battle against COVID and its variants, we’re hopeful this could be a one-time occurrence. We’re also praying that there’s a scientific solution to bring all missing persons back from wherever they went.
The camera zooms in for a close-up as the president pauses and looks directly into its lens.
Don’t fear; the mystery can and will be solved as soon as possible. It’s my—it’s our—top priority.
During this international crisis, we should take every opportunity to step forward with the other nations of the world and join in peace—a peace like no other, bonded by the loss of our loved ones who could be missing. We now must learn to live, love, and rebuild together through our grief.
In two weeks, the Omnilateral Commission and the European Council have been planning to meet in Rome to discuss mankind’s economic and ecologic future. It’s my understanding that, instead, they will be focusing solely on this current aberration, seeking answers and helping us deal with its immediate and long-term problems. We’ve dealt with disasters of this type before, from deadly hurricanes, tornadoes, flooding, and forest fires to Zika and Swine flu, SARS, Ebola, COVID, and monkeypox; we know we can overcome such catastrophes. At this important meeting, we will work together to figure out the next steps for guiding us and our world through these trying times.
His voice is getting hoarse; he stops to take another sip of water.
Also, I was just informed there have been two high-magnitude earthquakes in downtown Seattle, Washington, minutes apart. Our thoughts are with those involved as we hope the damage to life and land is minimal. It’s my understanding that communication in this region is completely offline as they deal with the crisis and its aftermath. So far, there are no indications that the quakes have caused any tsunamis like the collapsed glacier did last week, destroying a small Alaskan town. Scientists are also tracking the Pacific Northwest’s twenty major volcanoes in the Cascade Arc, as there has been a substantial increase in recent activity at several of them.
We have a lot of work cut out ahead of us regarding the why and how of this problem and are committed to finding answers. But as of right now, we do not know—it is too soon; we simply do not have enough information.
In closing, I encourage you to share your grief openly with one another, deal with the pain respectfully, and help and give comfort to those around you. Be positive and pray that our loved ones will return shortly. Remember the wise saying that “There is a season for everything.” Put any sorrow and frustration away, especially toward your brothers and sisters here and everywhere. Use this incident as a pivotal point to unify us as a genuine one-world order. Face the new dawn with promise. Our thoughts and blessings are with you and yours, and I’ll keep you, the people, informed of our progress. Thank you and good night.
With his brief speech ended and no opportunity for questions and answers, the commentaries begin: Reporters and talking heads search each phrase and nuance for hidden meanings, possible scenarios, and the promotion of personal and political ideology. Of course, I expect both political parties to volley the rights and wrongs of words spoken, arguing about whose agendas are being followed and whose are ignored. This is standard; this is how it always happens in the news. And I’m sure you know how it works, too. This is only one of the reasons I don’t do politics.
I click off the television and watch the screen fade to black. Wondering if my parents felt the second quake, I send them a quick text, hoping for an instant reply, but I know communication services could be jammed or down in their area. I push my fears of them being injured or dead to the back of my mind, reminding myself that they’re hundreds of miles south of Seattle.
Good, something productive will come out of all that has happened. I know it, and I feel it. The president is right: The world may reach peace over such a strange occurrence. I only hope that what’s happened isn’t repeated, causing more people to disappear. We will remember our loss, pick up the pieces, and promote peace. We must make a better world for our children and ourselves. Families will be together again; we will grow and become one people. Whatever has happened or will happen, we can make here, where we live, a better place. Someone will explain it to us; someone will have all the answers and guide us through recovery from this apparent disaster.
Do you feel the same way about it?
And I bet you a hundred dollars that, years from now, scientists will find it was, indeed, the strange sound that triggered it all—a sound like an audio superbug that launched some once-in-a-lifetime virus or chemical reaction infecting only specific, especially weak, individuals. The young and old were affected, and we strong ones were left to change and improve where and how we live. There’s a reason that all of this has happened.
Mark my words, we are the champions of the world. The strong survived this cataclysmic event, and we who didn’t succumb to the sound have the duty, the obligation, to make this world, our world, a better place.
What a perfect opportunity to turn a nightmare into a utopia!
Don’t you get it?
I—you—we are in control.
Two chirps on my smartphone snap me out of my pragmatic thoughts. The first is Mom dual texting Silvia and me, stating We’re OK! I immediately text back, thanking her for the report and saying I’m relieved her message went through. The second one is from Silvia, asking me if it’s okay to call.
Within seconds, my sister’s number is pushed on my speed dialer. Knowing it will probably be a trying conversation, I keep myself occupied by seeing if Alexa can be reassembled.
“Sil? How are you doing?” I ask as I assess her voice for her emotional status.
“I’m a total wreck, Sar. I don’t know—what to do—right—now.” My poor sister gags through her sobs and cries. “I’m not sure if I should go someplace or talk to someone about filing a report. Should I sit here on the floor of our family room amongst all the toys and wait for my babies to reappear? And did you hear about the two quakes near Mom and Dad? I hope they’re alright.”
Isn’t it heartbreaking to hear the sorrow in her voice?
“Yes, did you see the text they just sent? They’re okay. I’m sorry about Jack and Jasmine, Silvia. How heartbreaking. We’ll get answers soon, I hope. How is Tom doing? Is he okay?”
“He left about fifteen minutes ago, right after we heard what sounded like a nearby explosion. Apparently, the warehouse alarm went off, so he went to check it out.”
Tom and Silvia live near Orlando, and his construction business is in a commercial area less than a mile from Disney World in Lake Buena Vista.
“Hold a sec. He’s texting me on the company phone.”
I wait, hoping it’s nothing more than a false alarm of some sort. Don’t you hate it when your day is atrocious and ruined, one that you’ll never forget for the rest of your life, and then a minor incident adds to the pile of problems? I notice my anxiety is going up again; is yours? Please, Sarah, keep calm for your sister’s sake.
Silvia comes back to the phone, gasping, “What’s going on today? A bomb exploded at Disney World. Tom heard it on the news driving to the warehouse—that was the explosion we heard! Why now? Why here? Why after everything else has happened?”
“Yikes, Sil. That’s crazy! Was anyone injured or killed?”
Silence.
I try another angle, “Sis, was this explosion the only strange sound you heard today?”
“No, we heard a different sound right before the kids vanished.”
For several minutes, I try to calm both of us down by theorizing that the disappearance and explosion are entirely separate and unrelated incidents. She hadn’t heard the president’s speech or considered the strange sound to be related to people disappearing. As I collect the shattered pieces of Alexa, I suggest the blast may have been an accident when a driverless car crashed into something, or maybe it was a freak of nature.
“I just turned the television on to a local station,” Silvia reacts, “and authorities are already calling it another terrorist bombing. Great. This world is hopeless. People are pure evil. Why are people so sick? I hate what we’ve become. Are we headed for a civil war? Where are love, peace, and humanity that balance and center our universe? Oh, Mother Earth, rescue us.” She mumbles something about karma and how her inner spiritualism is the only basis for existence, but her voice quavers with uncertainty. She cries again when she mentions her babies. I don’t know how to comfort her, do you?
“Tom texted me again,” she continues, harnessing her emotions once more. “Looks like a gang is growing out on the street in front of the warehouse, starting to burn trash in the big dumpsters. He says it may escalate to a riot, so will hunker down inside the office until things calm down. To top it off, another huge hurricane is headed toward us tomorrow night. But who knows, maybe it’ll keep these wacko people from causing problems.”
Can you believe this? No one is safe; no one is in control. It’s disgusting, isn’t it?
Do you feel my stress ramping up again? How much more can I take—can you take?
I do my best to say the right things to comfort my sister and her growing problems, but my words seem meaningless. With little left to talk about, we say our love yous and goodbyes, both wishing for a safer and better tomorrow.
After tossing the broken pieces of the smashed Alexa into the trash compactor, I press a button on the refrigerator and request a digital assistant replacement to be shipped to our address. I engage the unit again, “Alexa, what’s the hurricane update in Florida?” When she responds that voluntary evacuation orders are in place and recommends being careful, my fear for Silvia and her family escalates.
I must regroup. I must be cool and collected. I must. You should too.
If only the bad parts and tragic memories of our lives could be tossed in the garbage and replaced like new.