Dreamland

Leaving With The Indians

We live in an older house on the outskirts of town, south of the major metro area. I'm outside, doing yard work with my wife and son. I hear a the sound of a nearby jet. Something about it sounds wrong, though, so I look over towards the airport, a few miles away. I see a FedEx cargo plane has just taken off, but the nose is way too high, like the pilot is trying to pull a loop. I call out to Viv to look; I can tell what will happen next.

The jet stalls and crashes tail-first into the buildings just west of the airport. There is a huge explosion, way more than is justified by the fuel on the plane. I can see a huge wave of debris radiating from the center of the blast; it's obviously going to reach us, even at this distance. The realization hits me that there must have been bomb on the plane, maybe even a small nuclear one.

I yell out to Viv to run, and grab Nick's hand to drag him along. I want to get in the shadow of a nearby building, to be out of the path of the flying debris. We manage to make it before the shock wave hits. Chunks of concrete and other objects are flying overhead and raining down just past where we are standing. The building shelters us, but our house is getting pelted with debris, breaking windows and smashing holes in the walls.

After the dust settles, a civil defense truck drives through the neighborhood, announcing that we have been contaminated with radiation. We are to take only what is absolutely necessary from our homes and to evacuate the area. We are to drive to the next town, where we will be treated and given shelter.

Our neighbors, an Indian family, are outside. The husband approaches me, begging me to give his family a ride, as they have no car. I agree, since I have an older full-sized Pontiac station wagon. I tell him have his family pack up a few things and meet us at the car. I head into the house with Viv & Nick to get our stuff.

We pack a couple small suitcases and walk out to the driveway. The Indian family is already in the car, and they have totally filled it with all of their stuff. There are boxes of old Hindu religious books, Persian rugs, bags full of clothing, and their three crying kids. They have left no room for us, or our bags.

I'm angry, I start arguing with them to get all their junk out of my car. I start pulling bags and boxes of their stuff out, and as I do huge roaches come crawling out at me. I'm totally disgusted, but I have to laugh. That old story about cockroaches being able to survive a nuclear war, I guess it's true. And these little guys are trying to hitch a ride out of the danger zone, too. Pretty intelligent insects.

I hand the man the car keys: "Here, just take it, get out of here! I'll go find another car."

The people who live in the next house never came home after the blast, but one of their cars is still in the driveway. I'm sure they won't miss it. I'll see if I can break in and find the keys.