When the Sky Burned

Tom’s teeth squeezed into the slimy sausage. He slowly chewed the bit before swallowing it. In these times you had to savor every little moment of joy. The canned sausages weren’t that good, but they were better than the baked beans that they had been living off for the last two months. He had been euphoric when he and the old man had found the storage room, although Uncle Adam had had a grim expression on his face.
Tom missed Fuzzy, his pet rabbit, which Uncle had caught two years in the woods Tom had begged Uncle Adam not to kill it, and in the end he had given up and let the rabbit live. Tom had voluntarily given up a share of his rations to feed the rabbit. But, a few days ago, the day they found the storage, Uncle Adam had been carrying Fuzzy while Tom had been off with the old man, and when they returned to tell of the good news, Uncle Adam had told him that Fuzzy had leapt away and run off towards the coast. Tom had wanted to pursue it, but Uncle Adam tried to talk him out of it, as it would be requiring too much energy and time to catch a rabbit which couldn’t survive on its own. Tom had run down to the creek, where there was still sparse vegetation, and cried out Fuzzy’s name. After hours of searching, Tom had finally given up, and returned to their “camp”, eyes red from crying. Uncle Adam had tried to lighten the mood by preparing a meal of wildcat carrion, which he had found shortly after Tom had run off. It was prepared as stew in their only pot, and smelled of some spice that Tom couldn’t identify. Uncle Adam said that he had been saving this particular spice for years, waiting for the right occasion to use it. Uncle Adam told him that it was Tom’s father’s birthday today. Tom knew he was lying, and that it wasn’t wildcat they were eating. In the last six months they hadn’t seen a single living creature, except themselves and Fuzzy.
The old man was drinking the water from the can of sausages, tiny drops of water sticking in his thick, grey beard. The old man never said much. Tom wasn’t sure whether he had actually ever spoken to him about other subjects than the weather and the quality of the food, which, in both cases, the old man usually shrugged off with neutral mumble. Who he was Tom had never figured out, and Uncle Adam hadn’t been cooperative either.
Uncle Adam sat by the edge of the fireplace, holding an empty can in his left hand. He was staring intensely at the flickering flames, most likely thinking of something long gone.
“Tell us story, Uncle,” Tom said.
“Huh,” Uncle Adam replied.
“A story,” Tom said, “from before the sky burned and the seas boiled.”
“Bah,” Uncle Adam said, “there’s no point in wallowing in the past.” Uncle Adams said and began coughing. His coughing seizures usually lasted for some seconds, but this one lasted over a minute.
“But what are we going to then? We can’t just sit around here doing nothing.”
“Then what do you suggest we do?” Tom hesitated for while.
“I don’t know.” He said.
“Well,” Uncle Adam said, “then go to sleep.” He said and lay down on the stiff blanket, pulling another blanket over himself as he was lying down. Tom followed his Uncle’s example and lay down on his blanket. The old man always took the first watch, Uncle Adam the second and Tom the third. Uncle Adam used to tell that it was to keep the predators at bay, but Tom quickly found out that there were none. Tom tried to empty his, and quickly fell asleep.

Tom woke, unsure of what time it was. He could hear the voices of Uncle Adam and the old man engaged in a quiet discussion, but even though they almost whispered, Tom could hear every word.
“He’s almost twenty years old; you have to give him some more responsibility!” The old man said.
“You know he isn’t like a twenty year old! He’s never met anyone his own age! How could you expect him to develop normally!?” Uncle Adam replied. They suddenly became quiet, as if they had noticed he had awoken, and spoke with even lower voices.
“Alright,” the old man said. “I give up, but you know that he has to learn how to survive on his own at some point.”
“I know,” Uncle Adam said, “but let’s just let him enjoy his childhood a little bit longer.” Tom couldn’t hear their voices any longer, and he reckoned that one of them had gone back to sleep. He tried to return to sleep, but only with great difficulty. What was they had said? That he was twenty years old? From what few magazines he had gotten his hands on, he saw that twenty year olds drove around in fancy cars and laughed all the time. Were there any working cars left? Perhaps they could find one. And then he thought about cars until falling asleep.

Tom opened one eye. Seeing that it was morning, he rose swiftly. Why hadn’t anyone told him that it was his turn to watch the camp? Uncle Adams was sitting next to the old man’s blanket. Tom held his distance.
“He’s gone Tom,” Uncle Adam said, “must’ve passed away while I was on watch. Didn’t notice it until I was about to wake you up.” Tom was at loss for words. He wanted to feel sadden at the old man’s departure, after all, they had been together for as long as Tom could remember, but he had never really known him.
“We should probably bury him then.” Tom suggested.
“Yeah,” Uncle Adam said, “we should.” Tom looked through the equipment sack and found the old shovel tied to the side of it. He walked down to the foot of the hill and found a suitable spot by a large boulder, and began digging. He looked up at the camp and saw that Uncle Adam had removed the blanket covering the corpse, and began dragging the blanket the corpse was laying on down the smooth hillside. Tom continued digging and had gotten underway when Uncle Adam arrived at the site. They took turns digging, and within a couple of hours they had finished it. Tom grabbed on to the old man’s hands, while Uncle Adam took care of the feet. They quickly dumped the body into the grave and began covering it with dirt again. When they had finished, they both stood facing the boulder looking at the little bump in the ground that had appeared.
“You want to say something?” Uncle Adam asked Tom.
“Nah.” Tom replied.
“Alright,” Uncle Adam said, “then I’ll try. Here lies a loyal companion…may he finally find the peace and safety he so long wanted…wherever he may be.”
“Good speech.” Tom said. Uncle Adam ignored him, and instead began coughing. This time even longer.
“It’s getting worse, I think.” Uncle Adam said, and began walking back to the top of the hill.

Most days passed slowly, and now that they had found a large amount of food, they didn’t have to go foraging very often, and so it was quite boring. Tom read the same magazines over and over again. One was a car magazine, where he got all his knowledge on cars from, one a science magazine, which he rarely understood anything of, since there were all sorts of fancy words that he didn’t know, but at least there were plenty of pictures. The final one was a news magazine, dealing with a multitude of subjects, including the invention of the first car to drive on human remains, increasing hostility between India and Pakistan and the oil crisis. Uncle Adam had begun to teach Tom to read when he was but a few years old, and Tom was quick learner and it quickly came in handy as one of the few things to do.
“You think we could find some new magazines?” Tom asked. “If we go back to the city?” Uncle Adam sighed.
“There aren’t magazines in the city.” Uncle Adam said. And so the matter was closed. Tom instead turned his towards the grey sky. It never changed, the grey sky. Always the same. Tom had often wondered what lay behind the grey clouds. He remembered Uncle Adam saying once, when he was in a relatively good mood, that someday the clouds would lift and a blue sky revealed. Tom had never taken his Uncle’s words that serious, and reckoned that it was probably another lie. The sky would never change. Of course not.

The next morning a stack of magazines lay by his side. Uncle Adam was tending the fire. Tom quickly flipped through the stack. There were over a dozen different ones!
“Where did you get these?” Tom asked. Uncle Adam pointed towards the mountains.
“I found an old lodge earlier this morning,” Uncle Adam explained, “among the things I found were those magazines.”
“This is amazing!” Tom said, trying his best to withhold his glee. “Could we go there? Maybe there is more stuff?” Uncle Adam barely seemed to notice Tom’s joy and merely sat, poking at the fire with a withered stick.
“No, I searched it all.” Uncle Adam said. “There wasn’t anything else.” Why did he always do that, Tom thought, until he realized that he should probably just be grateful that he had gotten so many new magazines. Tom spent the rest of the day reading magazines.
In the evening when they were eating canned sausages once more, Tom was already getting a tiny bit tired of them, Tom finally had the courage needed to ask Uncle Adam when they were leaving the hill.
“When we have to.” Uncle Adam replied. “For now, there’s no reason. We’ve got plenty of water, food and firewood at the moment. Let’s enjoy it while we can.”
“But,” Tom began, “I’ve been seeing these pictures in one of the magazines of all kinds of food. Not just canned sausages, and maybe there is some place where we can find that kind of food.”
“I knew it was a bad idea to give you those magazines.” Uncle Adam said. “Give it to me!” he said with a stern voice. Tom hesitated, but knew that he would lose it anyway, and handed it over. Uncle Adam grabbed onto it, looked at the front-page, flipped through it quickly and threw it on the fire.
“Never yearn for the things you can have!” Uncle Adam said. “Now eat your sausages! It’s better than nothing.” Tom finished his meal quickly, and went to bed, knowing that the mood around the fireplace wouldn’t be very pleasant.

The next day passed swiftly, with Tom reading the magazines over again and again. Uncle Adam had left him early in the morning, but returned sometime in the afternoon with some more firewood. Tom took a look out across the landscape. The hill itself was smooth and barren. To the west the mountains rose high, and to the east the vast brown plains stretched to infinity. In small, secluded areas withered trees would stand tall, trying to keep a frail grip on the world. It was a brutal and eerie place.
“Uncle?” Tom began.
“Yes?” he replied.
“Is there still beauty left in the world?” Uncle Adam looked with sad eyes at Tom. He had a pale and tired expression on his face. For a few seconds it seemed as if he wasn’t going to reply.
“No,” Uncle Adam said, “no there isn’t.” For hours none of them spoke. It was as if they had finally realized the harsh reality. Uncle Adam lay still on his blanket, only occasionally adding more wood to the fire. It was needed though, as a cold wind began flowing from the west. Tom tugged himself tightly in his blanket to shield himself from the cold. Uncle Adam’s coughing seizures were even more common now. Soon nighttime came, and Tom tried his best to fall asleep. Could it really be true? That there was no beauty left in the world? No, there had to be. And he was going to find it! Sleeping always becomes much easier when you have nothing to worry about, and so it did for Tom.

Tom woke up the next morning feeling well-rested. He sat up and looked at Uncle Adam’s blanket. He could hear him wheezing and coughing, and knew that there was something very wrong. He moved in a mix of a jump and run to Uncle Adam’s blanket, where he found him in a terrible state. A strange brown fluid was oozing out of his mouth, and his eyes were almost blank.
“Uncle!” Tom cried. “What’s going on!?”
“Tom.” Uncle Adam managed to cough. “I don’t think I’m gonna make it.” He began coughing more of the brown fluid up, and wailed softly in pain. “You’re going to be alright, Tom. Don’t let me down. But don’t worry about me, I’m gonna be okay. I’ll say hello to your dad, right. Just promise me that you’ll stay alive.” Uncle Adam’s ramblings barely made any sense to Tom. But suddenly they came to a stop.
“Uncle?” Tom said. “Uncle!” he cried. “Uncle!” Tears were streaming down his face. He was now all alone in a desolate world. He sat down beside his Uncle’s body and looked at sky while he was wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. And at that exact moment, for only a brief space of time, a tiny hole in the sky revealed a light blue color behind it. And then Tom knew he would be alright.