“Team by team reporters baffled, trumped, tethered, cropped … Look at that low playing! Fine, then … Uh oh, overflow, population, common food … But it'll do”

- from “Its the End of the World” performed by R.E.M.

Chapter 1

“Hey, Hun? Did you see this?” I heard Lorie shout from the living room. I was in the middle of brushing my teeth, so I didn’t reply right away. It didn’t take long for a follow up.

“Hun?”

After spitting a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink, I returned a resounding and a little annoyed, “I’m here! What’s up?”

What followed was a notable pause in the air. It wasn’t long before a reply came, though.

“Did you see this … on the news?”

“I’m in the middle of brushing my teeth! Can it wait?” I called back.

I listened for some sort of reply – a rebuttal, calling me a name or some such – but nothing came. So, after wiping my mouth, I headed downstairs. Lorie was in the kitchen packing her lunch. I went in to join her and also to make my morning coffee. She didn’t meet my eyes at first. I knew I needed to say something.

“I’m sorry … I was full of toothpaste. What’s up?” I asked, trying to sound apologetic.

She ignored me while she walked over to the fridge. Opening it, she leaned in then answered, “I was asking if you saw the news?”

Still trying to sound remorseful, I asked, “No, why? What’s going on?”

After righting herself, she turned towards me and gave me a curious look. I knew why.

As part of my normal morning routine, I usually had the TV running in the bedroom. That morning was an exception. I’d been listening to an audiobook. You know how it is. You get close to the end and you just don’t want to set it down. Stop playing it, in this case. I was about fifteen minutes from the end. Those I killed while exercising and readying my work clothes for the day.

“No, the TV was off. Why? What’s up?” I repeated, that time without guilt. Her eyebrows raised and she let out a huff.

“They’re saying that, for the first time in … well … ever, there’s been a decline in human births.”

I narrowed my eyes, not knowing why this was a big deal … especially to her, or us. It wasn’t like we were trying to have a kid. We’d both decided early on in our marriage that we didn’t want any. Call us selfish or whatever. It just didn’t seem to make sense. At least not at that time.

It took a moment, but I got what she was on about. We were both educated people. We’d both taken history, and – more importantly – science. And, of course, we both watched the news. You’d practically have to live under a rock or be raised by wolves not to realize the planet was exploding with people. I didn’t know exact numbers, but I knew the population was well over eight billion, and a billion of that had been born in the last decade or so. I think I read somewhere that the population would be over ten billion before the middle of the century. Crazy growth … like a plague. My quick guess was it was probably just a fluke.

“Don’t you think that’s weird?” she asked, eyebrows re-raised. “The guys on the news seem all concerned about it.”

Mine raised to match hers as I thought, then I offered a smirk. “Are the Christians on Faux News freaking again?”

She scowled. She hated when I referred to Fox News as Faux. Her dad was a die-hard Republican that exclusively watched one channel and one channel only.

Keeping it out of the mainstream, he said.

Burying your head in the sand, was always my retort. Although I’d never say that to him, or to any of the other Fox Folks I knew.

Lorie’s hands went to her hips. “No! I was watching CNN, asshole. I flipped on the local news and they said the same thing.”

Before I could say anything else, or even offer an apology, she turned and strode towards the bedroom.

“Sorry! I was only kidding!” I shouted. I swore I heard a huff in return.

But that was our way, really. Going back and forth like that. We were both sarcastic mother fuckers. Me especially. Not a day went by that we didn’t throw shots over the wall to each other. It made for an interesting banter – and a very interesting marriage.

Knowing I wouldn’t hear more from her until she was ready to leave for work, I turned, walked to the front door, grabbed my shoes, then sat down in front of the TV while I put them on.

Sure as shit, the TV was turned to Faux. I knew she’d probably just switched the stations to gaslight me. It was something she’d done before, which was no big deal, and kind of funny. I glanced towards the bedroom, hoping she was standing in the doorway so I could flip her off. Unfortunately, she wasn’t.

Stopping mid shod, I reached for the controller and typed in 1202, the four digits that took me to the other side of the coin – CNN. As always, I waited until the screen displayed their logo before I set down the controller. Hey, I’ve been known to fat finger a digit or three in my time.

After a moment, the reporters on screen started discussing what Lorie had been going on about.

“Yes Ken, Scientists are baffled, for sure,” some lady named Karen – or at least she looked like a Karen – said before the screen switched. Her face was replaced with a timeline, showing the world’s population rise over the last twenty years. As expected, the line shot up like a Navy fighter jet. That is, until it hit the last two years. The first of those showed a leveling off, the second marked a slight decline.

“Does this have anything to do with the Coronavirus, Karen?” Ken asked. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, a smaller picture of Karen appeared in the lower right-hand corner.

“I’m told there are some contributing factors, Ken. But not enough to explain the severe drop in births seen in the last six months,” she replied. His head bobbed as if hanging on every word.

“Maybe it’s from all the social distancing?” he laughed, hoping for some response from her. She only hinted a smile.

Ken turned back to us, his viewers. “Well, thank you Karen.”

She gave her thanks and her little window disappeared.

“See what I mean?” Lorie blurted from behind. Her sudden appearance made me lurch.

“That births are down?” I asked, turning towards her. She was shaking her head.

“It’s more than that. It’s that people have been dying at a higher rate. Higher rate of suicides too.”

I narrowed my eyes again. “Where did ya get that?”

“It’s all over the news, Hun. Every news agency is reporting the same.”

Part of me wanted to doubt her, but most of me knew she kept her nose to the grindstone that was the news outlets. Morning and night – when I wasn’t watching one of my sci-fi shows – she watched the ‘relevant’ news. This included listening to PBS on the way to and from work. I really didn’t know how she did it. That much ‘reality’ would drive me nuts. That’s why I constantly had my head buried in a novel or eyes affixed to a sci-fi or fantasy. After all, reality was really depressing. All the shootings and stabbings and general anger between humans really got me down. I seriously didn’t need all that negativity that in my life. But that’s one of the places where we differed.

“I’m telling you, life is really changing out there. People are just …” she paused, then said. “Just … weird.”

I gave her a shrug. I knew what she’d meant though. Over the last few years society had changed. The social distancing wasn’t just in the spaces between people. It was in their attitudes towards one another. More than just between the rich and poor, white or black. People’s friendships and relationships had been distancing. You could see it in … well … everything.

“Oh shit! I’m going to be late!” Lorie announced, double checking her watch. I barely had time to put on my other shoe and get off the couch before she enveloped me, stealing her morning hug and kiss. In a heartbeat she was out the door. And as soon as her car was out of the drive, I shut off the TV, finished cleaning up the morning dishes, then hit the door myself.

Driving to work that day I avoided the news. I always did. It was just too damn depressing. Instead, I listened to a mix of Slipknot, Avenged Sevenfold, and New Found Glory. My normal getting ready for work music. Listening to angry tunes in the morning before having to sit at my desk all day always seemed to help alleviate the pain – even if it was only a little bit.

I didn’t think about the morning conversation at all that day. I’d like to blame it on the heavy workload. But, to be honest, that wasn’t it. In fact, if anything, the workload was light for a Wednesday – usually my busiest day.

No, to be honest, the reason I didn’t think about the conversation was because it was becoming increasingly hard to believe in the news. There was so much fake news out there making things like that morning’s report seem blown out of proportion. I figured that, in a week’s time, there’d be a new news report that would contradict it. That the population figures were taken from a hot spot in Northeast Bumfuck where people had moved out, causing the change.

So, like most things, I ignored it and concentrated on the work in front of me. The work that kept our bills paid. The work that, although tedious, helped the days and weeks go by.

When I got home that night, I did my usual thing. That is, I changed, sent Lorie a text telling her I was heading out, then hit the road for a pre-dinner run.

As I ran and listened to some 90’s and 2000’s music, the thoughts of the day – those of spreadsheets, PowerPoints, and the like, slowly drained from my head. All thoughts of morning news and society were also kept at bay as Slipknot and Mudvayne screamed at me, cleansing my mind like water run through a Purell filter.

By the time I rounded the last corner on my return home, my mind was void of all negativity. The only thoughts that remained were that of the spaghetti I planned on having for dinner and how great the shower would feel when I got back.

My mind was so clear, in fact, that I almost missed it – almost stepped on it, I should say. There, on the sidewalk almost in the middle of the path, was a bird. It was lying on its side. Featherless. Unmoving. Dead as a doornail.

“Shit!” I exclaimed as I jumped to avoid crushing it. And I was successful but, as I landed, I came down weird on my ankle. Wincing in pain, I bounced awkwardly to a stop.

I walked around for a minute, as one does, feeling out the pain – making sure my ankle was still good to go if you know what I mean. My feeling-it-out course inevitably took me back to the dead bird several times.

On my last route, having verified my joint was up to snuff, I couldn’t help but stop and look down at the poor creature. As you can guess, probably having seen one yourself, what I saw was a grotesque oddity. Without feathers, the wings seemed malformed. And the head – a head that was sprawled sideways at an unusual angle – looked too large for the body beneath it. The beak was cracked open slightly, leaving the impression that something had crawled into it. Or, if I dared to stay, something might just crawl out.

The worst part about this disturbing sight, if I was made to choose one, were its eyes – the protruding lidless eyes. Drawn wide and covered with a milky white sheen, they looked upon nothing, and yet maybe saw everything. Once though, those eyes had seen nothing but the world as new. Now though … now they were only bleak reminders of a creature that used to be.

Curiously haunting arrows pointing toward something that’d gone terribly wrong.

I’m not sure how long I stared at it, or how long I would’ve, actually. Thankfully my smart watch buzzed, telling me that dinner was nearly ready and that I should get my ass home on the double.

Those were Lorie’s words, obviously.

Turning, I started walking away from the scene. As I did, I tried putting this unwanted image out of my mind. My walk eventually turned into a jog, then ultimately into a run. I arrived at home a few minutes later … although I knew a portion of me would never again leave that unforgettable spot.

After showering I joined Lorie in the kitchen. Dinner was ninety percent finished. All that was left to do was to plate the food and move to the living room.

We watched TV while we ate, and by TV, I mean Netflix. It was our preferred option over the depressing news or late afternoon repeating sitcoms most networks showed.

It wasn’t until later, after the plates were cleared – and Lorie and I had adult beverages in hand – that we shared the highlights of our days.

“So, it looks like I may not have a job soon,” Lorie announced, making me stop mid-swig. Before I could ask, she continued.

“Sales are down network wide, and they’re looking at closing half our stores.”

I tried to look stunned about the store closings, but I wasn’t. I’d heard the scuttlebutt – the entire nation had. Retail stores like Sears and JC Penny’s had been on the decline for years. It was the way of the world, it seemed. Why go to a store when you could just as easily buy stuff online.

I pursed my lips as I thought, then asked the obvious question. “But why would that affect your job? You’re IT.”

She let out a sigh. “We were told today that profits are down. Less people are buying, even online. Long story short, they basically told us that they don’t need to keep an entire IT staff if online keeps declining.”

“But what about new product lines? Someone has to configure that shit!” I barked, perturbed, as a million thoughts about paying bills and her looking for a new job ran through my head.

Lorie only shrugged. I could tell by her look she was as perplexed as me. These same thoughts were running through her head as well. I instantly felt like a bad husband.

Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I waited a few seconds before I asked, “When do you think you’ll get the news?”

“I’m not sure. I heard a rumor. They’re saying two weeks. Maybe a month.”

I slowly nodded. It was all I could do.

“I heard they’re laying off half,” she said.

“Half? Half of what?” I asked. She again shrugged.

“Maybe half of the company?”

My eyes widened, and I wanted to say something – scream something. But I thought better of it. Instead I leaned over and put my hand on her knee.

“Well, that sucks, Babe. I’m so, so sorry.”

She nodded and patted my hand as she tried to smile. After a moment she turned towards the TV. I did the same.

We both sat there for a minute, silent, as we considered our options. With my paycheck alone, we could get by. If I cut out my 401k contribution, that is. I figured she’d get some sort of severance. And there was always unemployment. Sure, we could get by. Maybe we’d have to cut back a little here or there, but we could get by easily.

Turning towards her, I smiled and matched her shrug. “Well, it is what it is. We’ll make do.”

Lorie gave me a smile, and I knew she believed me. Hell, my tone almost made me believe myself. Almost. Then, as if touched by a muse, a sudden thought popped into my head.

“Hey, I was just thinking,” I smiled. “Our anniversary is in two weeks. What do you say we make it an earlier one this year?”

She gave me a confused look.

“You know, instead of waiting, why don’t we move it up. Celebrate it this coming weekend instead?”

Her eyes darted around for a moment as she thought. “But … I haven’t had a chance to get you a present. I planned on going Saturday …”

I held up my hand cutting her off. “Instead of spending money on each other, why don’t we maybe spend the weekend at that winery on the east side … you know, the one in Geneva?”

Her eyes widened and a smile – an actual smile this time – suddenly alit her face.

“You mean The Kilderkin?” she said. I nodded.

“This weekend?” she said. I nodded again. Her smile grew tenfold. “It’s supposed to be beautiful this weekend!”

“That’s if I can get a reservation,” I replied. Lorie started nodding enthusiastically.

Seeing her delight, I let out a chuckle, then reached for my phone. “Okay, I’ll go online and see what I get.”

Putting her arm in mine – which made it a little difficult to search – Lorie watched on as I pulled up the site and perused the rooms. Sure enough, they had one King room available. And there was a “special offer” on the table. So, I nabbed it.

As soon as I booked it and placed the phone down, Lorie pulled me into a huge kiss. And, well, it didn’t stop there.

It only goes to prove the time-tested wisdom, a motto I’ve quoted at least a hundred times, “Happy wife, happy life.”

Well, at least most of the time, anyway.