What May Be

By Linda Tallent

What May Be is a four part, futuristic tale spanning the years from 2012 to 2222. A story for all ages and about the paradox of time: as much as things change, they remain the same. There will be disasters and tragedies, but also courage, compassion, and hope. Can one person make a difference, can one choice change our lives? Are you more afraid of what you know or what you don't?

Maybe when we understand the consequences of our actions we won't have to learn from our mistakes. Can choosing kindness, honesty, and forgiveness when we're angry and afraid change our fate? Will compassion, reason, and patience ensure everyone will have a place to call home where they are safe and can fulfill their dreams?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Tallent
• Release date: Dec 28, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370122318

Book preview

What May Be

Linda Tallent

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2016 Linda Tallent

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Thanks to Matthew & Minna Wallace for their editing help.

Table of Contents

Story 1 - If Not Now, When?

Story 2 - No Time Like the Present

Story 3 - One of Those Days

Story 4 - Future Memories

IF NOT NOW, WHEN?

In the Beginning

New York City, fall 2012

Oh my God, look at that rain! It’s a sideways wall of water.

The puddling water on the window is seeping through the cracks. Hopefully this towel can absorb it all. At least it will clean off the window.

It’s too frightening to be funny, Nick. What are we going to do? What if the baby comes while the power’s out? I’m so scared. There are so many things that can go wrong.

He’s not due for another week, Eva. It will be all right, hon, we’ve stocked up on bottled water and have plenty of batteries. We can ride out this Frankenstorm. Even if the streets flood, we’re safe up here on the 12th floor. We just have to stay calm. Let’s go back to bed because it’s not doing you any good looking out that window. We’ve done all we could to prepare and there’s nothing left to do but wait. We have to focus on all the things that are going right, not what’s going wrong. We still haven’t decided on a name for the baby yet if he’s born during the hurricane. If he is, maybe we should call him Noah, since this deluge is of biblical proportions.

I like that. Or what about Sandy? This is a storm for the record books. Do you think it’s a bad omen, Nick?

You know, hon, I don’t believe in fate. Our future is determined by the choices we make and how we make the most of the ones we don’t get to choose. Today is just one in the rest of our lives.

I hope, but I can’t take tomorrow for granted. Everything can change in an instant. My parents were alive one moment and dead the next. We assumed it was an ordinary day, they kissed me good-bye that morning when they left to visit my Grandmother in her upstate nursing home. They always got home late, so I went to bed as usual expecting to see them when I woke up, but… my life was never the same. What if our life changes while we sleep tonight?

We just have to hope for the best.

I hope things don’t get worse. Bad stuff happens all the time; it can’t be helped, it’s just a confluence of circumstance. The accident wasn’t any ones fault. The kid behind the wheel of the other car thought they were safe because he hadn’t been drinking. But he didn’t understand that all it takes is a distraction or two to lose control. His parents were calling to find out why he was late while his drunk friend was puking. I would have looked at the back seat, too. It’s not his fault he didn’t have more driving experience or that he didn’t know how easy it is to cross the dividing line and spin out of control. I never blamed him like he blamed himself. He couldn’t apologize enough, I’m sure he still feels guilty when he remembers those horrific images of that fateful night. It wasn’t my parents’ fault that they couldn’t stop in time and broadsided them, killing not only themselves but his two friends in the back. Life is unfair. I wish we knew what’s going on out there.

It wouldn’t make a bit of difference if we did, we couldn’t do a thing about it. Maybe it’s better if we don’t know. As you well know, it’s times like these when all you can do is ride out the storm.

I don’t think I could walk down twelve flights of stairs if the baby comes before the power’s restored.

You’re not having contractions yet so I don’t think we have to worry about that now.

Sometimes I don’t think you worry enough, Nick.

I think you worry enough for the both of us, hon, so I guess we balance each other out. We’re in this together. No matter what you’re not alone. Do you think you’re more of afraid of what you don’t know or what you do?

I hate feeling so helpless, maybe we should move someplace else if we get through this alive.

Now you’re just being silly. Of course we’ll survive.

Disasters happen everywhere, every day, Nick. I know there’s no place to hide but I think it’s better to know what’s going on than not. If you stick your head in the sand trying to avoid the bad stuff then you can’t see where it’s coming from and you can get kicked from behind instead. I think ‘there’s nothing to fear but fear itself’ is bullshit.

Perhaps. But, you know, now that you’ve mentioned moving, I’ve always wanted to get a little farm upstate. I’d like to grow my own food. I’d like our son to be able to pick apples off a tree. I want to till the soil and grow a pumpkin from a seed. I want to smell the earth after it rains, not dingy old concrete.

But you’re an engineer, not a farmer.

I know, but how hard could it be? Let me show you this book I downloaded called The Modern Day Johnny Appleseed.

How long have you had this dream, Nick?

I guess off and on since I was a kid. I remember going to an orchard to pick apples when I was a boy. We’d get cider and doughnuts and I loved it. I want to share that with our son the same way my Dad did with me. I want our son to be able to climb a tree and lay on his back and look up at the sky through dappled leaves. I want to give him a life he can’t get in the city. Did you know that even when all the glass in the towers has broken, the metal has corroded and the wood decayed, there will still be concrete? Future archeologists will look back at our time as the age of concrete. Sometimes I feel like I’m trapped in a concrete box in a concrete jungle. What kind of life is that?

I thought you liked it here.

I like it here because you like it here, Eva, and some of the projects I’ve contributed to have been very satisfying, but if I had a choice I’d rather work where I live. I want my work place and home to be more incorporated. I spend too many hours a day just trying to get from one place to another.

I didn’t realize you were so unhappy, Nick.

I’m not unhappy, Eva, I’m just thinking of what utopia would be for me.

We’ll be needing to find a bigger apartment as soon as our son needs a room of his own. We could get one big enough so you could have a home office.

I like that idea, but my work is a team effort and collaboration is best done onsite. It takes a downtown office and reputation to get the kind of jobs I work on. As long as I do this kind of work I will have to travel there through underground tunnels to get to an office of artificial air and light. I’m just an insignificant crumb in the huge New York pie. I want something more. I feel like time is slipping away. I want to see the light of day. If I can’t dream about the future now, then when?

How come we’ve never talked about this before, Nick?

I don’t know. I guess because we’re always so busy. I don’t have any time left for daydreams at the end of the day. Maybe it takes a cataclysmic event to show us what’s really important. My mom would call this time alone in the dark to share a dream a blessing in disguise. We need to call them as soon as we get reception.

Should we go up and see how Miriam is doing tonight?

She must be asleep, don’t you think it would frighten her more if I barged in?

You’re probably right, Nick. I hope she doesn’t try to come down to see if we’re ok. Navigating that dark stairwell could be deadly.

She didn’t get to be ninety by doing foolish things, hon. As long as she doesn’t leave her apartment she should be all right. I’ll go up first thing in the morning and check on her.

Do you think an ambulance could even get through if we needed one?

I hope so.

Even if we make it through this storm, what about the aftermath? I’ve been thinking, Nick, and I’m more afraid of what I do know than what I do not. I know what a violent death is like I’m afraid of that. If our son was killed I’d be afraid of re-living that awful moment for the rest of my life too.

I can’t even imagine such a thing. I can’t worry about what hasn’t happened yet, then I’d have to worry about everything. So, if this storm right now is a worst case scenario, is what you think it will be worse than what it actually is?

I guess what I’m fearing the most is how bad it could get.

So the real fear is fear itself? I’m beginning to think fear is a part of everyday life here in the city. We’re afraid we’re going to be late, that we’re missing out, that we aren’t making enough money, we’re afraid of our neighbors, maybe we’re even afraid to believe in ourselves.

I wouldn’t go that far.

We have three locks on our door, for Christ’s sake. You carry mace, hon, when we walk down the street or ride on the subway we act like no one else is there. We are alone in a sea of humanity. Sometimes I feel so disconnected. Why do we have to be invisible to get along? There’s got to be more to life than running back and forth like a rat with his head cut off.

Do you really think the country is a Garden of Eden, Nick?

I’m sure it has its problems, but I think there might be less to worry about there. I just don’t want to live being afraid feeling like I’m trapped in a maze with no way out. I feel hopeful laying here in the candlelight with you talking about my dreams. I don’t want to feel like I’m running away from my fears, but toward a sustainable future.

Here, put your hand here.

Hey, buddy, take it easy on your mom.

I think he’s turning around.

It feels more like a somersault.

Do you think he feels my fear, Nick?

He would sense that your heart is beating faster and I’m sure he can feel your body tensing. How does this feel?

I think we both like you rubbing my belly like that and telling us good stories of what the future will be.

Well, first of all, it would have to be a homestead we could afford, something we’d have to fix up. It would be a lot of work, but I’d be free to be my own man. Noah could go outside anytime he wanted. There wouldn’t be any traffic or gangs to worry about. Imagine a place where you actually waved to people on the street instead of avoiding them. I want to slow things down, do one thing at a time, and savor the moment. I want to build something with my own hands from inception to completion. Only designing one small part of a skyscraper feels like I’m building everyone else’s future, not my own.

You’re serious about this ‘Green Acres’ idea?

I guess I am. When I think about it, I can see a rundown place that the old folks who own it can’t take care of any more. The kids have moved on and they’re just waiting for a young couple like us to come along to bring the orchard back to life. I want us to be that family. Do you think you could see yourself living that kind of life?

I’ve never thought about it. It sounds good, you know I love apple pie. But I grew up here. I don’t know anything else. The only time I played outside as a kid was on the playground and even then the only thing I liked to do was draw on the sidewalk with chalk. I have no idea what it would be like to live in the country. How would we support ourselves?

I don’t know exactly, there must be jobs for a structural engineer there. I’m not saying it would be easy and we’d really need to start thinking outside the box, but I think it’s doable. I think it’s time to invest in our future.

You know I love you more than anything, Nick, and I’d follow you to the ends of the earth. Your dreams are my dreams. I trust that you can take care of all three of us.

It’s not like it can happen tomorrow; a dream in its infancy is just a world of unknowns. It will be like learning to walk, one baby step at a time. There will be plenty of nights to collect my thoughts while rocking Noah to sleep.

So, you’ve decided his name is Noah.

I guess so, calling him that just seemed kinda natural.

I hope it’s not an omen.

Do you really believe in stuff like that?

I don’t, but this seems like an ominous moment. Listen to that wind, it’s hard not to believe in forces beyond our control at times like this. Thank God we don’t experience more of Mother Nature’s wrath here in the city. Isn’t that why people move to cities, to get away from pestilence, drought, and famine?

Yeah, but if there are no farmers, there’s no food. If we cut down all the trees there won’t be any more fresh air. We give all the power to those guys that live on the top floors and control the money, but if it weren’t for the guy on ground level that takes care of the land no one would survive. I believe there is a higher power and it’s a delusion to think we’re in control just because we can change the course of rivers, harness electricity and travel into space. I believe in the power of nurturing a seed, making my wife smile, and teaching my son how to be a man. I want to experience simple pleasures like fresh air, clean water, wind in the trees, birds chirping, frogs croaking, and bees buzzing. When I think about trees and how important they are to our survival I feel like I should be doing something about that. I know one man can’t save the planet, but I feel like taking care of an orchard could be a good start.

I think Noah likes your dream too, he’s finally stopped kicking. I think I can get some sleep now.

Sweet dreams, hon.

After the Deluge

New York City, 2012

Thank God my parents are all right. I can’t believe they didn’t even lose power. It’s crazy we have to get the news about New York City from them. They said there were huge gas lines at the stations that are open and the tunnel is flooded so there’s not much traffic going in or out of the city. It’s anyone’s guess how long it will take to drain the subway and clean it out. I’m glad I don’t have any deadlines at work. But, I feel like I should be doing something. I feel trapped in here.

Me too. I’m just glad you’re here, Nick, I need you.

There’s no need to go out. We’re all in the same boat, so to speak. Mom didn’t mention any looting, maybe this will be one of those disasters where people help each other and make it better instead of making it worse. She said there was a gas leak in Breezy Point. The water caught on fire and what was left after the flood was destroyed by the fire. Does it make sense to even try and rebuild? The oceans are going to continue rising and destruction is inevitable. When are we going to start doing something about climate change? How many storms like this can the east coast survive?

Do you think there’s any safe place to live, Nick?

Well, I think higher ground inland would be safer than at sea level. This concrete box has kept us safe so far, but I don’t want it to become a prison. There’s that fine line between when a good thing becomes a bad thing. I want to believe that if you believe everything will work out all right, it will.

That sounds like blind faith to me.

Maybe it is, but I guess what I mean is you have to believe that you can make a difference in your life. That trying to do the right thing even when things go wrong is the most we can do. Look how we were able to build the Freedom Tower after 9/11. This storm won’t keep us down for long, they’ll have this city up and running again in no time. At least this disaster wasn’t man made. To me what terrorists did to this city was worse than anything Mother Nature could throw at us.

I guess what scares me the most is that one moment you’re just living a normal everyday kind of life and the next everything is changed forever and there’s no way to prepare, no going back. What kind of world are we bringing our child into?

The same kind every other child has been brought into. But Noah already has more than most. His parents are healthy, intelligent, and love him, and we have options how to make our lives better. As long as we’re willing to work hard I believe we can bring our dreams to life. What’s that old expression … what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?

I don’t think a choice between a rock and a hard place is really a choice at all. Do you think that’s enough water for Miriam?

It will have to be, hon, because I can’t fit any more bottles in this backpack.

Maybe you should bring up the last of our OJ too, just in case her blood sugar acts up. She didn’t ask me to help fill her prescription before the storm. I hope her insulin doesn’t run out.

We can’t worry about that now. I’m sure no shops or restaurants in walking distance are open now.

Take this box of crackers, jar of peanut butter, and a couple of apples, too.

I don’t want to hoard food, but are you sure there will be enough for us?

After we eat everything that hasn’t gone bad in the refrigerator we have a can of tuna, a can of beans and a can of corn.

I hate living out of a can. I can’t carry anymore. I need my hands to hold the flashlight and railing. I don’t know how long I’ll be. Are you sure you’ll be all right?

I’ll be fine, I’ll read while you’re gone.

How often do we get a vacation to just put our feet up and relax? We should make the most of it.

If I could take a hot shower and drink a hot cup of tea things would almost feel normal. It’s too bad we don’t appreciate the little things until they’re gone.

_ _ _

You were gone so long, is Miriam all right?

"It’s a good thing we have a key because she couldn’t come to the door. She ran into the corner of a table when she got up in the middle of the night and there was a lot of blood to clean up. I bandaged her legs and changed her sheets. Her skin is so thin you can see all her veins through it. She’s so frail, now I understand why you worry about her so much. It’s a good thing you thought to fill the bathtub with water, It took a couple pails full to flush her toilet and I used a couple