What Comes After

June 1

There was an earthquake today. We were all lounging in the house: me at the table trying not to die of boredom, May on the couch eating some canned something, Mira sitting in the backyard watching the solar panels and sunbathing.

There was a slight tremor, almost unnoticeable. "Did you feel that?" I asked May.

She rolled her head towards me. "You're hallucinating."

I went outside to Mira. "Did you feel that?"

"No. It was probably the wind or something."

"Okay. Whatever you guys say," I replied and went back to staring at the ceiling from the table. I wasn't really convinced, but I thought that maybe I was imagining things because I was so bored.

But then the ground began to shake real hard. The dishes in the dish rack clattered and some cans we dumped in our recycling bin began rolling around crazily. "Earthquake," I shouted at Mira and May.

After those words left my mouth, it's funny that no one moved— not even me. I know California is supposed to be the center of earthquakes in America, but most of us have never experienced a serious earthquake. Sure, there are a couple of smaller tremors, but never at this scale.

The only thing that brought us out of our paralysis was when a dish clattered to the edge of the counter, falling and shattering into a million little pieces.

"Go under the table!" Mira yelled and we dove under it. Me, Mira, and May cramped under the dining table as the world fell apart around us. I could feel my heart fluttering, rising up to my throat and trying to escape as I hung on to the table leg for my life. Mira placed her hands on the underside of the table to hold it up just in case it collapsed on us while May gazed at the cans rolling across the floor with a small smile, for some reason.

The tremors stopped after a minute, but the house was a mess. Can piles toppled over in the pantry and broken dishes lay scattered across the floor. Luckily, Mira had put all the jars in the back of the pantry, so none of them broke apart. Otherwise, that'd have been a big mess.

"I wonder what caused the earthquake," I said.

"Maybe it's the big one," Mira suggested.

"Or maybe earthquakes just happen," May said.

"I think it might be something to do with the Moon," I said. "You know, like how the tides and everything is getting messed up."

"Neal," Mira said. "You can't blame everything on the Moon."

"Yeah," I said. "I guess."

Mira and May swept up all the glass shards on the floor and piled them into a plastic bag. I re-stacked the cans in the pantry. Mira helped put together a collection of cans, bottled water, and some flashlights and batteries as a small earthquake kit, just in case the big one came. I guess the earthquake gave us something to do on this pretty boring day. I wish I had the internet.

June 4

The tremors continued today, but no one frantically dived underneath tables. The dishes clattered and the house trembled like a train was passing by, but it only lasted a couple of seconds. I guess everyone has gotten used to this new normal. I think I'm getting closer there.

It turns out that my theory about the moon affecting the earthquakes was correct. On the radio, I heard that scientists were talking about how the Moon was pulling on the crust of Earth, so there is going to be heightened tectonic activity. Already, in Hawaii, the volcano on the big island is erupting more often and spewing out tons of lava. It'd be pretty cool to watch.

I left a note for Mira and May to tell them that I was going to the library. I knew that Mira took the first bicycle to the post office. She's worried about her boyfriend in college. I think she's hoping for some letter or note, but with all the oil drilling platforms being destroyed, I don't think the mailing system is working fully because of the gasoline shortages, but I think the government will figure out a solution. May was napping in her room. To give her credit, with nothing to do, summer is a great way to catch up on missed sleep.

Getting some fresh air felt good. Being cramped inside with two other people was pretty crappy. I pedaled towards the library to check out some books. Even though I read a lot, I almost never go to the city's library. My school's library usually had interesting books to read. But with nothing to do at home and school being out, I thought it was a good time to make a change.

Turned out that the city library had power, which was a bit weird since libraries don't seem to be as important as other utilities like mail. But there were tons of people congregating around the entrance, cooling themselves off as the AC blasted every time someone walked through the door. I parked my back in a crowded bike rack and went inside. There was a notice placed on the wall:

Library Losing Power 6/19.

A line of people snaked around the walls of the library, wrapping around some empty bookshelves. I went to check out what everyone was waiting for. There were two computers in the corner of the library, both ancient dinosaurs of a machine. An armed guard stood in the front of the line, directing people forwards, telling them that they've got five minutes at most to use those computers before they have to leave.

I peered over and saw the screens. There were endless blocks of text. Some people were smiling, others were sobbing, some were just tapping their fingers against their thighs, trying to conceal their shaking knees. I think I know what they're looking at. It must be the list of the dead and the missing.

I turned away and checked out some books, a couple of dystopian fiction novels and some coming-of-age stories. The librarians were worried about the online databases breaking due to power shortages, so we wrote down our names and the books we checked out. I realized that I could just lie about my name and get away with it, but I followed the honor system. Plus, it wasn't like anyone else was checking out books.

I left the library quickly. Even with all the AC there, I guess everything felt too sad to stay. I biked the other way home, passing by city hall. There was a long line of people snaking around the main building. I was going to ask some random person about what's going on, but my crippling shyness struck me, so I stood there and watched the people.

Most people were leaving with a medium sized bag of food. I guess this was the summer food giveaway. I reached into my pocket for my phone to call for Mira and May to come and line up with me, but then realized that it wouldn't really be useful. This is why we need the internet.

I raced home, but Mira wasn't there. May was sitting on the couch, laying around. "We're going to the city hall," I said. "There's some food drive there. We have to go quickly before the line gets longer."

"We've already got enough food here to last forever. Plus, I don't want to wait in line for hours."

"Do you want Mom and Dad to get mad at us?" I asked and she didn't respond. "C'mon let's go then."

"Fine. You're so annoying," she said.

"How are we going to tell Mira about it? She isn't even home yet."

"I don't know. Just leave her a note or something on the door."

"How are we even going to get there?"

"We'll bike."

"Hello," she said. "Earth to Neal. We've only got one bike."

"I'll take a scooter."

"Do whatever," she said, leaving the house. "C'mon, you said you wanted to go, so let's go."

We went to the city hall. The line was even longer than before, and the crowd was getting rowdy. The sun was beating down on all of us, scorching the ground. I wished that I could teleport to the air-conditioned library.

"Hey guys," Mira said and both May and I snapped our heads back. "I saw your note."

Mira arrived about twenty minutes after we got in line. "How did you find out about this?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Went to the library and then passed by and noticed this."

"I passed by the library on the way here. There seems to be a lot of people there. Do you know what's happening?"

"Well..." I said, but I was cut off by an announcement.

Someone had gotten a megaphone and was speaking into it. "Sorry, we don't have any more food. Please come back next Saturday for the next food giveaway."

There was a lot of shouting following this announcement. "We'll starve to death... I have two children at home... Surely you can spare some extra."

People broke out of the line, forming a mob in front of the steps to the building. The woman with the megaphone turned towards them. "Again, we are out of food. Please come back next week."

"Disassemble yourselves and go home," she said.

"We have first amendment rights," a man shouted back.

Someone threw a rock at her, and she ducked as it sailed over her head. "First amendment rights do not protect violent assemblies. This is my final warning. Disassemble and leave immediately or I will call the cops."

But no one listened to her. I guess everyone was too scared about starving or too angry about not getting enough food. It's been three weeks since the grocery stores have closed. Some people must've not been as prepared as us. A chant began to form in the crowd. "We want food! We want food! We want food!"

Someone threw some glass and it shattered, and the mob began to surge in all directions.

"C'mon let's get out of here," Mira said.

We snuck through the crowd of people and grabbed our bikes and scooters. We could hear the faint sirens of the police cars in the background as we navigated our way out of the parking lot and onto the main road. I turned back after what felt like a minute.

Police were making some announcements, but it was too hard to hear what they were saying over the cries of the people, who adopted a new chant. "Murderers! Murderers! Murderers!"

But after a couple of minutes, even their shouts faded away to the background, leaving no other sounds but the waves crashing and the soft rustle of the trees.

"Mira?" I said.

"Yeah."

"So about the library..."

"Oh, yeah. What's going on there?"

I paused and took a deep breath. "Nothing much. I guess everyone's too bored without the internet, so they're finally reading."

It was a flimsy lie. I was going to tell Mira about it. But I decided not to. It was better for her not to know. And I guess I don't want everything to change if I make this choice.