Shaded

“That’s all anybody can do right now. Live. Hold out. Survive. I don’t know whether good times are coming back again. But I know that won’t matter if we don’t survive these times.”

― Octavia E. Butler, Parable of the Sower

“Why do you always wear that girly necklace, Dad?” Marshay poked at the silver, heart-shaped locket that swung back and forth in front of her dad’s chest.

“It was your mom’s, Peanut. It’s all we have left to remember her by.” Her dad poked her back and smiled gently. “That was pretty sassy. How can that much sassiness fit into one six-year old?”

“Runs in the family.”

“True. Your big sister throws more shade than anyone I know.” Her dad opened up the locket. There were two tiny portraits inside. “Except maybe for your mother. She could just glance at someone and they would wither.”

Marshay inspected the photographs. The woman in the portraits had short curly hair that framed her face in tight ringlets. Her skin was light-brown and her smiling lips a deep maroon. Marshay looked at one photograph then the other. Her large, dark eyes tick tocked back and forth like a metronome. “She looks just like Deja.”

“Yep,” he agreed. “And they act the same, too.” Marshay’s dad closed the locket and started hefting supply boxes from one side of the room to the other. “Been lookin’ like her since she first came outta the womb. Same cheekbones and chin.” He grabbed the handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his glistening face. “And she has the same angry crease.”

“What’s an angry crease?”

“Have you noticed when your sister gets upset, a small crease appears on her forehead right between her eyebrows?” He put his pinky finger between his eyebrows and spoke in a high twittering voice. “Dad, stop being so annoying!” Marshay chuckled. She walked over to her dad who was taking yet another rest break and opened up the locket.

“Do I look like Mom?” Marshay asked.

“No, Peanut. You get your good looks from me.” He smiled goofily and winked.

“Yuck! Dads aren’t supposed to have good looks!”

“I beg to differ.” He stood up and strutted around the bunker like a rooster in a hen house. “You weren’t around during my younger, leaner days, but I was somethin’ to behold.” He put his hands on his hips and winked at a large bag of flour. He picked it up and pretended to dance with it.

“Dad, you’re so weird.” Marshay made her two dolls dance together. “Is this how you and mom danced when you were young?”

“Nah. Too slow.”

“So you guys did fast dancing?” She bounced her dolls on her knee. “Like this.”

“Not quite. More like this.” Her dad kicked his right leg out and swung his head back and forth, then he put his hands on his hips and shook his backside. Marshay giggled uncontrollably. Her dad called this the gut giggle, because it was so heavy you could feel it in your gut.

Just then Deja walked in. She looked at her dad with a frown that reached the far corners of her cheeks. She sighed. “What are you doing, Dad?”

He shimmed over to Deja and bumped her with his left hip. “Just takin’ a dance break. You wanna join us, Sunshine?”

“No thanks. Mr. Roberts said to give this to you.” She handed him a small, light blue piece of paper that was folded in half. “Also, I must insist that you never dance again. For the sake of humanity.”

He opened the note as he talked. “You know, Sunshine, it’s getting more difficult to call you by your nickname when you’re always carryin’ around that attitude.”

“Feel free to call me Deja.”

“I gotta go to the threshold for a bit, Sunshine. Watch your sister.”

Marshay hated the threshold. It was what they called the entrance to the bunker. There were always strangers trying to break in. Her dad was constantly being called to fix the hatch. Both of the girls whined and protested.

He put his hand up to quiet them. “I know you both hate it when I have to work on the hatch, but this shouldn’t take long.” He blew dramatic kisses at them. Marshay pretended to catch them and Deja ignored them. Before he turned the corner he declared, “I wouldn’t be mad if you moved some of those boxes for me while I was out.”

Deja pulled her book out of her tote and sat down in the corner of the room. Marshay waved a bunch of tiny waves at her dad as he left. He smiled and put his pinky between his eyebrows. For the first time Marshay noticed the teeny crease that cut through the middle of Deja’s eyebrows. Marshay positioned herself directly behind her older sister’s book. Her large eyes peered over the top as she tried to read upside down.

She clumsily sounded out the first words she saw. “All that...you to-, tooch...you ch-angs.”

Her sister interrupted. “All that you touch you change.”

“What does that mean?”

“We are the future and we are the ones who will change the world, for good or bad.”

“Oh.” Marshay let those words marinate for a few seconds, trying to figure out what she would change if she had the power. “If I could change the world, I would make it so we could play outside, have more toys and have an endless amount of ice cream.” She thought she spied a faint glimmer of a smile on her sister’s face.

It disappeared quickly as Deja said, “What about the apocalypse? Wouldn’t you change that?”

“That’s a good point. Okay do-over. I wish the apocalypse never happened and it was back to normal.”

Deja tousled her sister’s hair and went back to her book.

Marshay wasn’t quite sure what ‘normal’ was to other people. She’d lived her whole life in the bunker. A month after she was born a series of unfortunately cosmic events endangered all life on the planet. She could never remember the technical term, but she’d heard this event called many things: the solar flare up, the burning planet, Hell on Earth. The last one scared her the most.

“Deja. Do the story please.”

“Not now, Marshay.”

“Please! The story always makes me feel better.”

Her sister closed her eyes. Her angry crease was prominently on display. “What’s your second choice? What else would make you feel better?”

“Can we go to the fan room, Sunshine? I wanna play robot zoo.”

“Don’t say that word.”

“What? Robot or zoo?”

“Don’t call me Sunshine. I don’t like it anymore.”

“But didn’t Mom give you that nickname?”

“That was before all this happened. Sunlight is the reason we can’t leave this bunker.”

“What should I call you then?”

“Deja is fine.”

“So can we?” Marshay jumped up and down. “Go to the fan room?”

“I guess so,” Deja shrugged. They walked out of the storage room and into the tunnel. Marshay had a bounce to her step. Deja kept reading her book and occasionally glancing up to check on Marshay who was a couple steps ahead.

A few minutes later they entered the fan room. This room was closest to the bunker exit and therefore was always the hottest room in the underground bunker. Fans were placed around the room to help keep it cool. However, this idea was quickly abandoned as people soon realized that they would be in the bunker a lot longer than they originally intended. They needed to save energy where they could.

“How many can I turn on?” Marshay asked.

“Just one.” Deja turned on a small fan. Marshay yelled into the fan. “I’m a rhinoceros robot. I’m a zebra robot. I’m a… Deja what other animals are at the zoo?”

“You could only think of two?”

“I’ve never been to a zoo before. Just heard about it from dad and he mostly talks about the churros.”

“He does like sweets.” Deja closed her book and stood next to Marshay. She put her mouth near the fan blades. “I’m a koala robot. I’m an elephant robot. I’m a crocodile robot.” Deja clapped her hands together in front of her body like a snapping crocodile. Marshay screamed and ran as Deja chased her.

After a few minutes Deja said, “Phew! Being a crocodile is hard work.” As she sat down, she heard a shriek. “Marshay I’m not chasing you anymore, you can stop screaming.”

“That wasn’t me. It came from the threshold.”

Both girls froze. Marshay felt her body tighten like a knot. They heard a commotion and then a struggle. Marshay felt Deja grab her by the shoulders and pull her behind the largest fan. They hid and listened. The ruckus seemed to be moving away from them.

Deja whispered, “Follow me. Quiet like a mouse.”

They slid out of the room. Marshay tugged on Deja’s shirt. “Where are we going?”

“Dad always told me if there’s ever trouble we need to go to the safe room.”

“I thought this entire bunker was a safe room?”

“The safe room is safer.”

“So it’s a bunker inside a bunker?”

“Yea. Basically.”

Marshay tripped over something. She gasped and pointed to the ground. “It’s the locket!” She picked it up and held it carefully. “The clasp is broken.” She put it in her pocket.

“We’ve gotta keep moving.” Deja took her by the hand. “It’s right around the corner.” They tiptoed into the safe room and pushed the metal door closed. “The lock is broken. Why is everything in this bunker broken?” The sisters hid in the far corner.

“Tell me the story, Deja.”

Deja relented. “There once was a princess who lived in a dark forest. She kept her kingdom safe in the shaded woodlands away from the dangers that lurked outside in the light. But they couldn’t hide from trouble forever. One day a fierce dragon stood at the edge of the forest and threatened to burn it all down. The brave princess fought him off with her army of elves and forest animals. They won the battle, but the princess knew the war between the light and dark had just begun. They would have to leave the safety of their kingdom in search of a new and secure darkness.”

Suddenly the metal door creaked open and their dad entered. He was limping slightly and seemed exhausted. The girls ran to him. “Dad! Are you okay?”

“Yes. Just twisted my leg a bit when I was helping to capture the intruder.”

“So there was a break in?”

He nodded. “This bunker is getting too dangerous.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself. “So what have you two been up to?”

Marshay held out the locket. “I found this.”

“Oh Marshay! What a hero.” He took it from her hand. “This clasp is always breaking.” He made some adjustments and then hung it around Marshay’s neck. “I think it’ll be safer with you, Peanut.”

Marshay hugged him. He turned to Deja. “You actually listened to me and came to the safe room. I’m proud of you, Sunshine.”

“No Dad,” said Marshay. “We have to figure out a new nickname for Deja. She doesn’t like Sunshine anymore.”

“That makes sense, under the circumstances. How about Buttercup? Sugar Pie?”

“Robot Crocodile!” Marshay shouted.

“Deja is fine for now,” she insisted. Marshay noticed the crease on her sister’s forehead settled and disappeared as she helped their dad into a chair.

“Thank you, Deja,” he said as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. “I guess my dancin’ days are over.” He opened the locket that was hung around Marshay’s neck and admired the portraits.

“Thank goodness,” said Deja. “For the sake of humanity.”