The Secret in the Pollen

"Hey Ma! I'm making eggs on toast, you want some?"

"Sure thing sweetie! I'll get a pot of coffee on the brew. Can you grab the paper for me?"

I wandered out to the porch, picked up today's rolled up paper and brushed off the pollen absentmindedly. The air was warm and close, the air almost suffocating in its stillness. The world was jaundiced, sickened on this damned pollen. I retreated to the blessed air conditioned space of the kitchen and tossed the paper across the table to Ma. I started the water boiling.

"What's the news Ma?"

"Nothing of note sweetie, same as usual."

The last few weeks had been such a relief. By the middle of 2032, it had seemed like nothing could go right in the world anymore. So many terrorist attacks that we'd reached sympathy saturation. The far right on every side pushed the bounds of decency further and further; fresh horrors filled the headlines every day. Then came the threat of another great war between nations, and they were bombarded with messages of potential annihilation every day, until nobody even paid attention anymore. It became a way of life, to live under a cloak of fear.

People only left their homes to work or go to school. The world had achieved a state of fearful apathy, for lack of a better term. People too afraid to engage in anything other than essential activities, while being so tired of living in fear that they no longer actually felt the fear.

Everyone woke up on 21/06/2032 expecting news of some new horror. But there was nothing. Only calm quiet. Nothing of note had happened for weeks now. Come to think of it, I couldn’t even really remember any individual days. It had been so peaceful, the days had blurred together without some new terror marking each day.

Ma dropped the newspaper in the recycling box when she finished with it and started working on the dishes. I brought over my dish and pecked her on the cheek. We shared a smile.

"You working today sweetie?" Ma called over her shoulder as I turned to leave the room.

"Nah I'm on my hols remember? Few weeks before I'm back to the grind."

"Of course you are sweetie. Silly old brain forgets these things. You enjoy your time to relax."

"Cheers Ma," I smiled and left the room, returning to my bedroom.

*

"Hey Ma! Want some eggs on toast? I'm making some."

"Yes please sweetie and I'll knock on the coffee. Mind getting the paper?"

I pushed open the porch door and bent to grab the paper, brushing off the pollen. Seems never ending, this pollen season.

I tossed it to Ma and boiled the water for the eggs.

"How's the news Ma?"

"Quiet as usual sweetie. Nothing to note. You working today?"

"Nah I'm off for a few weeks remember?"

"Oh of course, yes. Forget my own head if it wasn't screwed on!"

Ma dropped the newspaper on the growing pile. I'd have to remember to load those in the car soon and recycle them. I didn't feel like leaving the house today, but I'd do it soon. I grabbed a cup and retired to my room.

*

"Eggs on toast Ma?" I felt less enthusiastic today. Not down or unhappy, just a little...off. Like I’d eaten something bad, or was anticipating a stressful event.

"Yes please sweetheart. I suppose I'll put on some coffee for us too."

I glanced at my usually cheerful mother. Seemed she was feeling a little off too.

"Want me to get the paper?"

"Yes please my dear."

Opened the door, bent to get the paper, brushed off the pollen. Movements so rote now as to be automatic. My eyes slid over the date and the headlines, but didn't focus on them. I placed the paper in front of Ma and took a good look at her.

"Ma you're not looking your best. Are you feeling ok?"

Her skin was shining and flushed, her lips almost bright red. She looked feverish. Come to think of it, I felt a little feverish myself.

"Yes dear, just a little under the weather, don't fret. No news today." She tossed the paper onto the pile without even looking at it.

Some part of my mind was shouting at me to look at that paper but I felt a strange reticence. My limbs felt sluggish and slow as I walked to the box, as though weighted by iron chains.

"What are you doing sweetie? I said there was no news today."

I kept going, reached into the box, picked up a paper. Looked at the date.

June 21st.

Next paper.

June 21st.

Next paper.

June 21st.

The whole damned box was filled with identical papers, dated June 21st.

I felt Ma's presence behind me.

"Ma? I don't understand. How can this be?" I looked over my shoulder at her, noting now how lifeless her hair is, her eyes yellowed and almost filmed over. There are sores visible around her mouth. Her cheekbones looked like they could cut glass.

"Can you read the headline sweetie? I'm not sure if you're ready yet."

"Of course I can read the head..." I trailed off, turning my head back to look at the paper in my hand. My eyes just slid over it. I could see the words but I couldn't make sense out of them.

"Ma! I'm scared. Please tell me what's going on!"

"When you're ready sweetie," she said sadly. A drop of blood leaked from the corner of her eye as she turned her back to me, clearing the dishes from the table. I don't remember either of us eating, but the food had gone. I can't recall eating for a while actually. I remember boiling water, setting down plates. Ma cleaning up. Smells. No eating. No food. I stared at the back of her head. Clumps of hair were missing.

"Why don't you sit on the porch for a little while sweetie? Have a look at the pollen. That might help."

"Pollen? What does the pollen have to do with anything?"

"You'll understand when you see it sweetie."

Perturbed and increasingly unnerved, I pushed open the porch door. When did I last step off this porch? Pollen everywhere, of course. A yellow sheen that coats everything, no matter how much you sweep and mop. I brushed my hand over the rail surrounding the porch and held my hand in front of my face. Funny, it looked like pollen but it felt...thicker somehow. It crumbled between my fingers. It smelled odd. I brought my hand to my mouth and tentatively licked one of my fingers. The taste was infinitely familiar and yet intensely different to how I knew it.

It wasn’t pollen. It was ash.

I returned to the kitchen, where my mother waited for me. She had the saddest smile I've ever seen as she held out the paper to me. I don't take it from her but my eyes finally take in the headline.

"America will push the red button if Russia does not give up its nuclear arsenal."

I closed my eyes, afraid to see more. Afraid to see the light darken out of the window, which is no longer filled with glass. Afraid to see the ash blackening every remaining surface. Afraid to see how little surface was even left. I could feel the ash drifting past my skin. I could feel the intense heat of the air.

I felt my mother take my hand.

"We can go now, if you're ready."

"Ready?”

"Yes my dear. You had to be ready to accept our fate to be able to move on."

I opened my eyes. The world was fire, soot, ash and boiling flame. But distant somehow. I could no longer feel the ash swirling.

I looked at Ma.

"How are you still here, when you already know?"

"I've been waiting for you, sweetheart."