No Blue Butterfly

I saw a beautiful blue butterfly fluttering outside my window. I laughed, then cried.

So the scientists were wrong, the worst scenario was wrong. The world was still intact. I lived on the 22nd floor and my building hadn't been destroyed; the ground hadn't even shaken from the impact they had predicted with such certainty. We did not experience what the dinosaurs had undergone.

I lay on my bed relieved. I looked over at my clock on the nightstand. Nothing. Blank.

I made myself sit up, fumbled for my remote. No TV. Reached over to retrieve my cell. Nothing.

Fear suddenly overwhelmed me. A butterfly at a 22nd floor window?

That wasn't possible. I rose and ran to the window, closed my eyes for a minute and then opened them to see rubble not far below me.

All at once, I remembered the heavy dose of sleeping pills I'd taken, hoping not to see or feel the end of all that was familiar.

Oh, now it made sense, I was having a nightmare. That had to be it.

I'll just wait to really wake up. I must have dozed, but all too soon, was shaking my head and rubbing my eyes--no butterfly, just cold, but it was June, wasn't it?

So once again, still logy from the pills, I made myself get up, however, this time I pulled on the jeans I'd thrown over the chair near my desk and the sweatshirt I'd thrown on the corner of my desk, then realized I really had to pee. I went to the bathroom and before sitting noticed there was no water in the bowl.

Once I'd relieved myself, I tried to flush. Nothing.

I ran back to my bedroom, found socks and my winter books, a heavy jacket, then ran to the kitchen, wolfed down a slice of raisin bread, reached into the fridge and grabbed the carton of orange juice, gulped down some and realized it was not cold. And the fridge had no light--okay fridge wasn't working either. Stuffed the two bottles of water I found and the rest of the raisin bread into my backpack, along with a couple of knives, ran back to the bathroom, added all the meds I could find, and left.

Somehow, my motto, stolen from the boy scouts, Be Prepared, had kicked in. But not completely. My father's voice came back to me saying, "Samantha, stop, think, you are a whirling dervish. Why hurry all the time?"

I thought of my family and wondered what had occurred in the Midwest, the home I'd left for the big city some ten years ago. They begged me to come home when the news of the asteroid had broken, to be together. I couldn't face that. I wanted to be where I was, in the city that had let me grow and learn and succeed. More, I couldn't face the memories and perhaps seeing the love I'd lost to my ambition, with his wife and kids.

Stop dithering I warned myself. Go or stay. Deciding, I turned back and went into my apartment again, grabbed my purse, my reporter's notebook, some pens and a pencil, took my keys, locked the door as I left, and ran for the elevator. Nothing.

Went for the stairs and saw I was only a few stories from the bottom, but the bottom was nothing but rubble. So after hesitating for a few minutes, I realized it was go down or stay in my apartment knowing nothing.

That I couldn't do. I was too curious a cat, a quality necessary for a good reporter.

Down I went. Once down, I saw no real lobby, just a sort of crumbled space to climb through to get out into--more rubble.

There were lots of huge, deep holes in the rubble where there once had been buildings and a few building tops that I recognized from looking out my windows to break writer's blocks. Thank god they all been short, allowing deadlines to be met.

Once again aware of my surroundings, I knew everything had changed. No sounds. No people. Nothing.

I kept going on, for what felt like hours. Nothing.

Exhausted by all the climbing around, I sat on some big rocks, drank some water, and waited. For what?

Suddenly, in the distance I spotted a small group of people and shouted, "Hello."

One of them looked me over and waved, motioning me to come. Did I have a choice? Not really. So I trudged over to them.

I was greeted with the same questions I wanted to ask: Do you know what happened? What should we do? Where should we go?

Shaking my head to indicate I had no idea, I joined them walking to where, I did not know, but then none of us knew what else to do.

As night fell and it got colder, we made our way into a building still standing--at least it was the top of what clearly had been, like mine, a tall building. Exhausted, we found a door, pushed it open, and saw it was an office of some kind. Too tired to talk, we lay in a huddle hoping to warm up by shared body heat, and slept or dozed till a bit, letting our bodies recover.

After what must have been a couple of hours, some of us went exploring. Not that there was much to explore, but we did find what must have been a snack room, and one of the men smashed open the front of a vending machine with a chair, and we grabbed everything we could. Then there was a water cooler with a large bottle on top. I helped him lift it off the base, and together we turned it over without losing much.

We returned and woke the others and ate and drank--thank god for people who had mugs on their desks.

We decided to stay because night was falling, and soon there were no lights anywhere. In the dark, I managed to go over to a window and looked up. No Moon to see, but there should have been given the time of the month. A few stars were there though, and I thought of the butterfly.

When morning came, the group decided to continue moving forward. I thought about it and decided to stay behind.

The world was a vast nothing, and I didn't want to be a wanderer. After they left, I sat and ate another slice of raisin bread, took a bunch of pills, and curled up. I was dozing on the floor, the very cold floor, when the rumbling began. I thought of the blue butterfly and closed my eyes.

Nothing.