The Day Before the Last Day

For the first and probably the last time in Earth’s history, scientists across the globe over agreed on just one thing — life on our fragile blue orb would cease to exist in eight hours, give or take an hour.

The planet itself would not just disappear. Astronomers predicted that with asteroid’s trajectory and estimated impact velocity, only five percent of North America’s land mass would be utterly destroyed. Unfortunately, the apocalyptic aftermath would make life on Earth untenable for all species, even the cockroaches and (as some suggest) Keith Richards.

Dylan flipped through article after article, searching for some glimmer of hope, perhaps a chance that this was all a bad dream. No doubt millions of other humans were doing the exact same thing and also finding nothing to give them solace.

I’m only twenty-four and now my life is ending? Aren’t I entitled to a future?

This thought punctuated his growing depression, a force that swelled in him like a never-ending tsunami. Even the irony of Washington, D.C. being the estimated impact point for the Texas-size space rock gave him little amusement.

What should I do? Wait for the end or go out on my own terms?

Dylan was hardly what one would call a curious fellow. He didn’t actually live life the way many of his of his generation did. No, Dylan merely existed, almost sleepwalking through his daily existence, his thoughts dispersed among a growing sea of distractions.

Work was a distraction. His girlfriend was a distraction. His parents, divorced for years, were separate and collective distractions. God knew social media was a distraction.

But to what end?

If Dylan had passion and curiosity for anything, it was the latest game craze Cat Patrol 3, known by its legion of adherents as “CP3” or sometimes just “Cats.”

CP3 kept the young man planted in front of his giant flat screen for hours as he guided his character, a cross-eyed Cheshire bruiser named Death_Mask, throughout a dystopian hellscape in search of other cats who he could befriend, kill, or mate with to build his army of feral felines in their quest for world domination.

Now even CP3 provided no allure to Dylan, for planning for future conquests was a key part of the game’s allure and there was no future. Besides, few people were playing these days as the concept of real-world priorities finally sunk in. No fun in RPG when you’re the only player for virtual miles.

The decision Dylan had to make was whether to stick out the coming cataclysm to watch it unfold in real-time or instead just take himself out of the game, so to speak.

His buzzing cell interrupted his musings. He checked the caller ID and almost sent it to voice-mail, but then decided he had to face the inevitable — or at least one of them.

“Hey,” he said, dropping into his game chair. “I was just thinking about you.”

If Molly, his long-suffering girlfriend, recognized this for the lie it was, she didn’t acknowledge it.

“Where have you been, babe?” she asked, a touch of panic in her Minnie Mouse voice.

“Oh, you know, here and there,” Dylan said, extended the lie. In fact, he hadn’t left his one-room flat for days.

“Can I come over?”

Dylan turned his head to assess the condition of his living space. Most everything had been put away, though he could see a few strands of cobwebs hanging from the overhead lamp above him.

“I need to clean first,” he finally said. “It’s a mess here.”

“So what do I care? Tomorrow we’ll be dead.”

He smiled. Or maybe sooner.

“Sure, come over if it doesn’t bother you,” he replied. “But don’t spend the first half hour cleaning. It’s a waste of time.”

“Don’t worry. I’m done with all that nonsense. See you soon.”

He clicked off the phone and headed to the kitchen. He needed a beer.

Molly arrived an hour later, two large bags held in her tiny embrace. He led her to the kitchen to drop them off.

“Groceries?” he asked, amused. “You don’t want to cook tonight, do you?”

She ignored him as she unpacked her purchases and laid them out on the table like a collection of cherished trophies.

Twinkies. Ding Dongs. Ho Hos. And that was just the from the Hostess family.

Dylan’s dark eyes scanned the plethora of junk food that now covered every surface of the table.

“What happened to clean eating?” he said, reaching for the bag of Cool Ranch Doritos.

Molly popped open a bag of Skittles and poured a handful into her mouth. She finished chewing, her teeth a mix of rainbow colors, and shook her head.

“Screw that, we’re going nuts tonight,” she said, chomping another splash of candy.

“No alcohol?” he asked, his disappointment obvious.

“Nope. I’d thought we’d go out for that.”

“Out where?” he asked with a laugh. “Who’s going to be open?”

She took his hand and led him to the window overlooking Jones Street two floors down. There they saw hordes of people on foot heading this way and that.

“Where are they going?” Dylan asked.

“Who knows? Anywhere? Everywhere? Parties, bars, restaurants. Wherever others are to celebrate the time we have left,” Molly said, her voice gleeful. “And I know exactly where we’re going to go.”

“A party? I’m not sure I’m in the mood.”

Molly spun him toward her and kissed him full on the lips. They stood locked like that for several seconds before she released him.

“Trust me, it’ll be fun,” she said, her breath ragged.

Dylan looked back at the kitchen table loaded with goodies. “What about all that?”

“We’ll take whatever’s left with us.”

“What time does this shindig start?”

Molly pushed him toward the sofa. “Enough time for fun.”

Two hours later, the remains of their junk food stuffed in the sacks Molly brought with her, they emerged into a parade of pedestrian traffic and headed toward W 4th Street.

“Are we going to the park?” Dylan asked, referring to the nearby Washington Square Park, a popular hangout for people their age.

“You’ll see,” Molly said, grabbing his hand and leading him past some slow movers blocking their way.

They walked for several minutes, both amazed by the party-like atmosphere everywhere they turned. Dylan, in particular, seemed mesmerized by the sights in sounds in the city he had lived in since his first days at NYU.

“Reminds you of college, doesn’t it?” Molly asked, reading his mind.

When he looked at her amazed she had done so, she only shrugged, a soft smile on her face. They met in psych class at the university and had been together ever since.

When Mikey’s Tavern came into view, Molly led him to the front door. There stood a large bouncer, his NY Giants baseball cap topping a huge bald head.

“Hi, Jason,” Molly said to him. “Room for us?”

“Room for everybody tonight, Molls,” he said with a wink, opening the door for them.

As soon as they entered, the sound from the dense crowd hit them, threatening to knock them over with its intensity.

“Why are we here?” Dylan shouted as they dodged and weave on their way to the bar.

“Trust me, okay?” she said.

She pulled him toward a brief opening at the crowded mahogany railing, nearly shoving aside a tall woman in spiked heels trying to do the same thing.

“Sorry,” Molly said, ignored the woman’s unspoken protests.

Dylan gave the woman an apologetic smile and joined his girlfriend on the stool next to where she was already sitting.

“Molly!” Janice the bartender said. She looked over at Dylan. “Is he the one you were telling me about?”

Molly nodded. “Yes, this is Dylan, my main squeeze. You told us to come by, so here we are.”

Janice poured them two tall mugs of Guinness and placed them on the bar in front of them. Dylan reached into his pocket for his wallet, but Janice shook her head.

“Not tonight. Everything’s on the house,” she said with a wink. “Going out of business sale.”

Molly chuckled, but Dylan didn’t react. He still didn’t get why they were there of all places. He wouldn’t have long to wait for the mystery to be solved.

“You’re probably still wondering what’s going on,” Molly said after swallowed a deep gulp from her mug.

“It occurred to me, yes,” Dylan said. “I mean, this is just a bar, right? What about a party where everyone’s going crazy?”

“Be patient, Dylan. You’re so…un-spontaneous.”

“That’s not a word,” he reminded her, but she ignored him.

Moments later, a dozen men and women their age approached them. Dylan’s eyes lit up when he recognized most of them. He greeted them with a wave of his hand, shaking hands and kissing cheeks as they neared him.

“Dylan, me boy,” one of the men said, tall and lanky and barely keeping his balance. “You look better than you ever did back at NYU.”

Donna, the petite blonde holding him up, slapped him on the shoulder. “Cut the boy some slack, Blaine. He always was…interesting looking.”

Dylan rolled his eyes but didn’t reply.

Janice, seeing their party had arrived, poured drinks for all of them and pointed to the rear of the bar.

“Where are we going now?” Dylan whispered as Molly tugged him off his stool.

“You said you wanted a party. So we’re having one. Follow me.”

The group trailed after their leader and her confused boyfriend to the back wall.

“Roadblock,” Dylan muttered. “What’s next?”

Molly rapped twice on the wall, then did it twice more in quick succession. A crack appeared and a hidden door opened enough to allow them access.

“We’re going in there?” Dylan asked, incredulous.

Molly took his hand and pulled him inside. The rest of their friends followed suit, with the last one pushing the false door closed tight.

To Dylan’s amazement, he recognized many of those standing there watching him. His mother. His father. His brother. A few aunts, uncles, cousins. The surviving members of his small family.

He turned to Molly, his eyes wide. “How’d you do it?”

A middle-aged man and his younger wife approached them wide smiles on their faces.

“Molly, dear,” the woman said, giving her a peck on the cheek.

“Hi Mom, glad you could make it,” Molly said. She turned to Dylan. “Dylan, this my father Steven and my stepmother Angela.”

Dylan shook their hands in turn before facing his own parents waiting for his attention.

“Mom. Dad. You’re here,” Dylan said, embracing them. “But how — “

“Molly invited us, dear,” his mother Margaret said. “When she told us, how could we say no?”

“But the asteroid — “

“Don’t worry about that, son, that’s tomorrow’s headache,” his father Winslow told him, a walnut pipe in his teeth. “Today, we celebrate.”

“What are we celebrating?” Dylan asked.

His brother Connor stepped forward and gave Dylan a quick hug. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

Dylan shook his head.

“Dude, your family. Molly’s family. Your closest friends…or the ones who could make it here, anyway. Put two and two together.”

Slowly, an expression of recognition spread across Dylan’s face. Molly watched him, trying to gauge his reaction.

“I know we only talked about getting married a couple of times,” Molly said, linking her arm with his. “And I know you’re the guy and you would want to ask. Forget about the old-fashioned B.S.”

He nodded. “Go on.”

“I brought the families, friends, D.J, and minister,” she continued, pointing to two men standing in the corner, smiles on their faces. She reached into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper.

“Is that the license?” he asked, taking it from her.

“Yep, but it’s not going to get officially recorded. We’re just going to pretend with this part anyway.”

He read it over and handed it back to her. “Looks legit to me.”

“Are we ready?” Steven asked, clearly a man of purpose. “Some of us have had a little too much to drink already and want to stay upright through the ceremony.”

Dylan took Molly by the shoulders. “I’m so happy. Lead on.”

“Does that mean you’re okay with this?” she asked. “I mean, I figured you wouldn’t object, but I would feel really stupid if you left.”

He kissed her on the cheek and smiled. “I’m in, babe. Let’s get hitched.”

She hugged him tonight and led him by the hand to the middle of the room. The minister, a tall African-American man with an infectious smile, stood in front of them.

“Rings?” he asked them.

Dylan’s eyes widened in panic, but Molly put a calming hand on his arm. She reached into her purse and pulled out a ring box, handing it to the minister.

“How long have you been planning this?” Dylan whispered.

“Since they said we were doomed,” she replied.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She only shrugged but said nothing else.

“Okay, everyone, take your places,” the minister called out.

The guests shuffled around, grabbing whatever empty chairs they could find. Those unseated stood silently in the back.

“Everyone settled?” the minister said. “Fine then, let’s begin.”

The ceremony lasted only fifteen minutes. Molly didn’t prepare any vows, and of course Dylan hadn’t, so they improvised. The words they shared were better than any they could’ve written if they had weeks to plan.

After the minister declared them to be husband and wife, the party began in earnest. The DJ, an old friend of Molly’s from her childhood, spun a mix of classic and fresh jams that got everyone on their feet dancing.

From time to time, Janice sent in one of the other bartenders with a tray of drinks and buckets of beer bottles. This pleased everyone, especially their respective pairs of parents since they knew all of it was on the house. The remainder of Molly’s snacks served as the only food for the festivities.

“What about the honeymoon?” Dylan whispered to Molly during one slow dance three hours later. “Do we have time too, you know, celebrate?”

Molly gave him a sly smile. “We already had that earlier, remember?”

Dylan laughed for the first time that night. “How could I forget?”

“We’ll get to that,” Molly said. “But I want to take you somewhere else first.”

“Now?”

She nodded.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she shouted, getting everyone’s attention. “Dylan and I want to thank all of you for coming to our nuptials. All of you here made this the most special day we could’ve imagined.”

She paused as the attendees clapped and whooped their approval.

“But it’s time for Dylan and I to enjoy the rest of our time together as a married couple. Alone.”

“Go get her,” Blaine slurred, earning him a friendly slap by Donna, who by now no longer could hold him up as she had enough on her hands staying on her feet herself.

Slowly, the guests made their way to the newlyweds, offering their best wishes and then moving aside for the rest.

Molly’s and Dylan’s immediate family faced them last. Both mothers had tears in their eyes as they hugged their children. Even the fathers appeared to be on the verge of becoming verklempt but held it together.

“I know we’ll never see each other again,” Margaret said. “So enjoy the time you have together. We’ll meet each other again somewhere, sometime.”

Winslow, always the card, broke into “Happy Trails,” but stopped after one line when Margaret put her hand over his mouth.

“Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad,” Dylan said, hugging them both. “Thanks.”

“Take care of my little girl,” Steven said with no trace of irony and embraced his new son-in-law.

As Molly and Dylan headed to the door, Connor followed them.

“Hey, bro,” he called out to Dylan.

Dylan turned to face his brother. “Hey, man. Are you okay?”

Connor shrugged. “You know how it is. The world ending tomorrow and all.”

“Maybe not,” Molly said hopefully, though she knew the truth.

“I just wanted to tell you that’s you’ve been okay…for a little brother, that is,” Connor continued. “Good luck.”

“You, too, big brother,” Dylan said.

The two men embraced for a long time before letting go.

“Trails,” Connor said, waving to them as they left the hidden room.

The couple stopped to thank Janice before leaving the bar. The pedestrian traffic hadn’t slowed down since they had entered the bar — if anything, it had increased.

“Where to now, wife?” Dylan said. “Back to our apartment?”

Molly shook her head. “Nope. Someplace special.”

“Lead on,” he told her.

They hurried down the sidewalks and across Washington Square Park to the opposite side. From there, Molly headed to a tall nondescript building.

“Whoa, what’s here?’ Dylan asked as she pulled open the door.

“You’ll see,” she said.

They took the elevator to the top floor and got out.

“Down this way,” Molly said.

They walked to the end of the hallway to the closed door. She pushed the crash bar open to the stairwell and they climbed to the door leading to the roof.

“Up here?” Dylan asked. “The cops aren’t going to kick out off, are they?”

“Don’t worry about the cops. They’re probably partying like we were all night.”

They walked across the concrete surface until they reached the far corner. There they found a pair of chaise lounges atop a blue beach blanket. A market umbrella sat in a stand between the two chairs.

“I figured we couldn’t make it to the beach in time, so this would be a good place to hang out,” Molly explained as they sat in the two chaises.

Once settled in, she pulled out a bottle of champagne hidden under the blanket along with two crystal flutes.

“Will you do the honors?” she asked, handing him the bottle.

Dylan popped the cork, sending it over the edge to the sidewalk ten stories below. He filled both their glasses and handed one of them to her.

“To us, now and forever,” he said, touching his glass to hers.

They finished their first glass right away and Dylan poured a second for both of them before they settled back in their lounges.

Both of them stared up at the stars so clear in the night sky, each lost in their own thoughts.

“Happy?” she asked him after a time.

“Very,” he replied. “You?”

She nodded.

“Any regrets?” Dylan asked.

“Just one. I wish we had done this sooner.”

“I agree. I guess we’ll enjoy this as long as it lasts then.”

She raised her glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

As Dylan stared into the eyes of his new bride, he couldn’t help but reflect on the fact that only a few hours before, he had contemplated ending his life before the incoming asteroid took them all out.

“What are you thinking about?” Molly asked after a while.

“Oh, nothing,” he said. “You know, life and all. How funny all of this is.”

“Glad you didn’t kill yourself?”

His eyes opened wide and turned to look at her. “How did you know?”

Molly smiled. “Well, to tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure I wanted to marry you. Even as late as this morning, I was positive it was a stupid idea.”

“What changed your mind?”

“I thought to myself what would happen to me if something ever happened to you. Not even thinking about the asteroid, just any kind of life-ending event. It made me sad. And furious.”

“Furious? Why?” he asked.

“Because at that momentI knew that you were going to check out on me before the universe checked you out. And right then, I knew I had to marry your ass just to keep you alive for a day.”

“At least,” he said with a smile.

“Yes, at least,” she agreed.

She reached out her hand and he took it.

“Ready?” Molly asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

They looked up in the sky and watched as the heavens glowed, dimly at first, then with ever-increasing brilliance. The long-awaited asteroid had made its entry into the lower atmosphere as predicted and was heading for its final destination.

“I love you, Molly,” Dylan said.

“Ditto, kiddo,” she said.

They didn’t have to wait long for the explosion. But they didn’t care. They were happy.

#asteroids #armageddon #happy_endings #NYC #New_York_City