Not On An Empty Stomach

“Hey ma,” Tom shouted in to the kitchen from outside. “How long till supper’s up ma? We’s getting awful hungry.”

“Oh, a few hours yet Tom,” a voice returned. A large woman appeared from behind the kitchen door wearing a stained apron and dripping sweat in to a pot she was stirring. “Tells ya what we needs though Tom, we needs some sugar. Grocery’s out of it this morning. To tell ya the truth its bin out of it for a while. No shipment comin’ in from the city, they reckon, hasn’t bin none a few months now.”

“Them cat’s jes plain lazy,” Tom said, resting against a spade, wiping his own sweating brow. “I’ll get Jesse to see if them Petersons’ got any sugar.”

“Quicker he gets me some quicker we be eating. Where’s your pa?”

“He’s in back tryin’ to fix the radio. Kickin’ off some awful static. We think she’s done for.”

Ma shrugged and returned to the kitchen. She couldn’t care less about the dang radio. Tom could hear bubbling and frying sounds from outside, and licked his lips, reminded by his hunger. He dropped his shovel and ran to the barn out back, where he found Pa, doubled over a radio with a screwdriver and flashlight. Sitting atop a hay bale, looking on and swinging his legs was young Jesse, face full of freckles, straw hat on his head.

“Hey Jesse, ma ses if you wanna eat today you gotta go on over to the Petersons and get’s some sugar,” Tom said.

“Ah heck, can’t you do it?” Jesse said, jumping down.

“Nah, ma asked you. I gotta finish manurin’.”

“Ah heck, fine. But don’t go playin’ any more a that there radio tills I get back,” he said, running out the barn as quick as he could.

“S’matter with her?” Tom said.

Pa looked out the corner of his eye, not wanting to stand up straight till the job was done. “Nottin’s the matter with her. Had this radio for damn near 20 years. She’s just pickin’ up static is all, but av jes opened her up and everythin’ workin’ as it should be.”

“Well, crank her up and less hear her.”

Standing up straight, stretching his crooked back, Pa popped the batteries back in and switched it on, adjusting the aerial as he twisted the knob looking for a station. The static between stations was normal at first, but as he twisted, it turned in to something strange… something, other worldly almost.

“I jes can’t make sense of her. She was workin’ fine lass week, now alls a sudden she’s got nottin’ but static for us.”

“Keep tryin’ ”, Tom said, “we might fin’ somethin’ that works.”

Pa kept twisting the knob and bending the aerial. A few moments later a voice came on the radio clear as day, penetrating the strange static:

…they are here… it’s all over, everything… everyone is dead… oh the humanity… we are not alone people, we are not alone!

Then it cut off in to static once again. Tom looked up at his pa. “D’ya think it means?”

“Hell, could mean anythin’ ”, Pa said.

“Aliens,” Jesse shouted, running back in to the barn. “Petersons tol’ me aliens has attacked. Big spaceships, came down and shot up the cities real good.”

There was a silence. Pa sat down on a hay bale with a puzzled look on his face, while Tom just stood, frowning and rubbing his belly.

“Who tol’ you that?” he said.

“The Petersons themselves. Ses their son Jimmy’s in the city. Hadn’t called for ‘bout two weeks and he always calls, so they packed up their car and went to visit. Everythin’s gone. Big ships are parked up in the cities, real alien ships from space, and everythin’s gone.”

Tom stood, still frowning, looking at Jesse closely. “And did the Petersons pick up any sugar when they was there?”

“Heck, no. Jimmy’s probly dead, no shops was standing, let alone sellin’ sugar. They’s packin’ up and headin’ out West now. Safer there they reckon. They’s fleein’. Do you hear what I’m saying Tom?”

“Well, go run roun’ the Millers, see if they’s got any sugar.”

“You hearin’ what am sayin’ Tom?”

“Yes am hearin’ what you’s sayin’ Jesse, and am respondin’ sayin’ go roun’ the Millers. Supper’s cookin’ and ma’ll be awful angry if you dun bring none back. Isn’t that right Pa?”

There was no response from the old man, but Jesse still nodded and ran back out the barn towards the Miller’s farm. Tom turned back to his Pa, who was still sat on the hay bale in silence, looking at the radio.

“I’ll be damned if am doin’ anything on an empty stomach!”

He swung the aerial in the opposite direction, out West where everyone was fleeing, like Jesse said. Surely they had some stations still playing. Tom liked a little tune at dinner time…