Zion

Tad used to be here every day, keeping all of the building's foliage dancingly alive. His lunchtime rocking chair was in my hallway within steps of my front door, just so, to catch the light which shone down through the basement window bars. Every day he rocked in that same chair whilst eating his triangle sandwiches and telling me stories of his travels. He spoke fondly of leaving for Zion. I remember the last time I saw him, he passed me casually in the laundry room and told me he was finally taking off for good tomorrow and that he hoped I got outta here soon too.

I live on the bottom floor of an old motel, built circa 1913, turned into highly overpriced “apartments”. My entire unit used to be where the laundry chute led to. I’ve survived my years here as a local musician. Most everyone in this smallest big city knows it. Still, I was taken aback when told that my new upstairs neighbor was a declared fan, flattered, albeit nervous at whom it could be.

Not certain how many days it took me to tape my traditional note, “please tread lightly” to his door, but it happened. Ryan was the first, of my past four upstairs neighbors, to articulate the most chivalrous, poetic, and thoughtfully handwritten response along with a gorgeously sketched pair of boots. I was charmed that he taped his letter to my door re-using my same tape and smitten by his obvious talent. His is the only letter I’ve kept from when we were still allowed to write.

You know the adage about love, “when you know you just know”. I felt that with my '72 Volvo, Betsy. The most loyal and consistent love I’ve had. The moment I saw her in a used car lot, front passenger wheel peeking out from underneath a dusty old car cover, I just knew.

The global pandemic of 2020 hit on month three. Back then I had just entered into a relationship that lasted until April fools day 2021. It proved to be for sheer pandemic purposes. We, the people, had no idea how insane things would become. A beginning to the unraveling of this matrix called life, as we’d known it. Nevertheless, love persists. I've fallen into a new and satisfying unrequited love, unbeknownst to Ryan. I had a vision about him last night. He was gentle and overflowing with firefly electricity. Pouring of himself throughout my being. I bloomed white love from my ears.

Humans have failed this world. Fought against and for what matters simultaneously. Blindsided by the corrupt. There has always been some sort of control, segregation, and punishment. A planned-out achievement for mass power over and slow extermination of humans. When this realization hits, I try to think of something else.

Some days hours flew by, lost deep in thought. Some nights the only semblance of real-life was emanating from small pink silk flowers, arranged on a white wooden trellis. I pet the petals like skin, longing for human touch.

Everyone has the same standard newspaper window coverings. Yellowed and dog-eared in the corners for peeking. We look out to see what day it is. Signs say it’s Friday. Friday is deemed "cleaning day”. Accompanied in small groups, people go on walks, get their shots, body sanitization, and fingerprints re-texturized. Orwell has got nothing on us.

I keep Ryan’s letter in an empty 80’s caboodle box with a mirror. Sometimes I watch myself while I re-read it and imagine he's saying other things. Even if he, they, them, is gay, asexual, whatever may be, his letter makes me happy. I don't think he's straight. Possibly bisexual. I honestly have no idea. My feminine senses his deep masculinity though, that or it ignites mine and a carnal urge, I dunno. What a lovely thing regardless, to have a crush. Much better than a relationship, most crumble under the weight of a catastrophe. Some flourish and I guess that's how you know it’s true.

Freedom, long since passed, we exist within Demagnun 2026. An attempt to re-structure humanity by returning to Cro-Magnon life and moving up from there. This phase is condensed into two years, give or take based on successful devolution. It's currently month fifteen. We’re on quasi house arrest, no electronic devices, no letters, no talking to anyone or venturing out unless accompanied by or of Ation. I am of Ation by random lottery order of ALO-Governmental Certification. Whatever that truly means. Nothing makes sense these days.

On cleaning day we are allowed thirty minutes outside. Non-Ation or Quars, as they’re called, are accompanied in small groups by the Ation. Today I am in charge of escorting four Quars from my building. Ryan isn’t in my group. It’s dusty in the air, a dirty evening marine layer, you cannot see much in the distance. Five minutes to the end, my group returns home, rounding the building entrance steps as Ryan emerges to leave. “Bonne journée mademoiselle Davies". He touches three fingers to his right shoulder and nods his head. Locking eyes, I give him a look to pierce his soul. Overcome with electricity, I sizzle. What has this man done to me?!

Scampering back to my room for the rest of the night like a schoolgirl, I cozy into my bed. Awaiting his footsteps, I drift to sleep. Roused, I open my eyes to pitch-black vision, alarming combat boots pacing hastily from the unit above me, he is come!

Upstairs I can hear Ryan rustling about as if through drawers, something heavy drops, then a grinding, scraping archaic crank sorta noise, metal? Yes, it sounds like drilling, a handheld drill, one of those old-fashioned ones. It lasts for a few minutes and then drywall chips and wood shavings fall from my ceiling onto the bed. I see the long metal drill bit probing through, bobbing up and down. Widening the hole with each plunge.

Dizziness passes over me as my mind stagnates to extreme slow motion. Staring in disbelief as down through the drilled hole comes a silvery sheen. My eyes lock onto it, gleaming, floating midair and then landing with a sudden thump onto my bed. A heart-shaped locket. As I gaze back up to the new hole in my ceiling, I can see Ryan’s eye staring back at me. He watches as I open the heart. Its left side is empty with room for a picture and the right side is engraved with four letters, Zion.