Time Out

Day One: My cell phone chimed. The television turned on. Alexa screamed "Bad Moon Rising". It's day one. My heart is beating so loud and fast that I can hear it through my chest. I'm sweating and need to calm down. I take a deep breath, put my feet on the floor, and stand. Overtaken by extreme fatigue and the need to vomit, I drop to the ground, and crawl to the bathroom. Grabbing the commode, I release last night's dinner of spicy chicken noodle soup. My throat is burning. It's 8 am and I'm exhausted. I know I have 7 days left. I know we all have 7 days left. I'm sick as a dog, but I get online and buy a first-class plane ticket to Richmond, Virginia. I need to see my family.

Day Two: I touch down at Richmond International and catch an Uber to my parent's place on the West End. The street looks the same as it did all those years ago. I don't say anything about our approaching end. My mom's happy to see me. It's been two years. Dad's as quiet as ever. My brother and sister could care less that I've arrived out of nowhere. We play cards and talk about the old days until midnight. I go to my old room and look out of the bedroom window. The moon is bright and beautiful.

Day Two: Mom wanted me to go grocery shopping and run errands with her today. That's what we do. Around eleven, I pick Grandma up from her house. We go to the art museum. She loves art. We visit the botanical gardens, see the butterfly exhibit, and eat lunch there. She tells me all about her recent doctor visits. Her kidneys are so bad she needs to attach herself to a dialysis machine at night. The good thing is she won't be so swollen after a few days on the machine. She was glad to get out of the house. I stay with her that night. We watch the late news together. There was a small prison uprising. Two people were fatally injured. The warden blamed it on the full moon.

Day Three: I call up my boyfriend from college. I still know his number by heart. He's the only man I ever really loved. I think he's my soulmate. He's married, but I don't care. I don't want to ruin anything he has going on. I only want to tell him how he's touched me. I want to tell him that he holds a special place in my heart. We only have a few days left to live, so I ask him to meet me at the park. When I see him, my smile could light this side of the planet. We hadn't spoken in ages, but I don't hesitate to tell him how I feel about him. He's surprised or at least he pretends to be surprised. He says he has always loved me and that he compares every woman he's ever been with to me. Right before we say our goodbyes, he asks if we can see each other again. I say yes, but I know we won't.

Day Four: Today I go fishing with my dad. We wake up really early. We sit quietly and don't catch any fish. My daddy once told me my presence soothed him. We didn't need words. So, we sat in silence for hours. Since we didn't catch anything, we went to the fish stand and bought some fried catfish with toast and coleslaw. It was good. I remember that time when I was little, I got a bone caught in my throat. Daddy beat on my back until I coughed it up. I was curious about what was on the news that night but decided not to watch. I wanted to forget we only had three more days.

Day Five: It looks like it’s going to storm, but I want to go swimming. The neighborhood has a nice pool. So, I put on my swimsuit and walk over. The water's cold, but it feels good. I feel free, but in control. I stay in the water for hours. When I finally get out, it's really dark outside even though it's only lunchtime. The walk home is peaceful and scary. When I opened the door, I knew mom was cooking. She made my favorite meal... meatloaf with tomato sauce, mashed potatoes, and peas. She didn't forget the Hawaiian rolls and sweet tea either. That made it extra special. My brother and sister wanted to play cards again. I said, "Why not."

Day Six: I didn't know how it would end, but I wasn't scared or stressed about it. I guess everything has an end. Individual lives have an end. Relationships have an end. I guess planets have an end too. I thought about what I wanted to do before my end. I wanted to see those big tall trees. You know the sequoias. I visited grandma one last time. I kissed my mom, my brothers, and my sisters. I asked my dad to drive me to the airport and I kissed him there too before waving goodbye forever. I took the next flight to Northern California.

Day Seven: I took a shuttle as far as it would carry me and ended up at a cafe in the middle of nowhere. I just needed to find a way to Sequoia National Park. I couldn't get an Uber and asked the waitress about the best way to get to my destination. I guess the guy eating a burger at the counter overheard me. He offered me a ride to the Park. He seemed nice enough, so I accepted. I didn't see the Sequoia trees. I didn't see the end of the world.