Meteor (2 page)

Gary walked out of the warehouse as Troy gave him the finger behind his back.

Wayne laughed at this. “They did the same thing to us,” he said as soon as Gary left the room.

“Over time doesn’t mean catching a nap in the corner of the warehouse, Wayne,” Troy said in a sarcastic tone.

“Won’t happen again, boss!” Wayne reassured him before climbing aboard the forklift to get all of the boxes ready for the morning delivery. Troy clicked off of the database program and began to look around the net for other improvements that he could make to his shelter. It seemed to be one of the only things that gave him any pleasure in his life these days. The hours slowly past until, Bob, the night manager finally walked in, looking a bit pale.

“Whew, almost called in again today. I’ve got a bad case of the flu,” Bob said, as Troy quickly grabbed his case and switched off his computer.

“Sorry to hear it, pal. I’m out of here. I’ve been waiting around for two hours for you to show up, so good luck with everything. The night shipment is all ready to go, see ya later,” Troy said in a whirlwind. His best friend, Ken, was supposed to meet him at his house that afternoon to help him work on the shelter, and he was already an hour late.

His cell phone rang and he answered it.

“Hey Troy, where are you, man?” Ken asked him.

“I’m on the way. Sorry, the boss made me stay late.”

“Okay, I’ll stick around,” Ken said.

As Troy drove up his driveway, he saw Steve walking out of the house. Ken was waiting outside in his truck and he too was surprised to see Steve there. Mary walked out of the house shortly thereafter, looking a bit disheveled as if she had just gotten out of bed.

“Oh hey, what’s going on Troy?” Steve said as he got in his truck to leave.

“What are you doing here, Steve?” Troy asked, not hiding his suspicions.

“I was just coming by to check on the air conditioner for you, like I promised.”

“Funny, I don’t remember you promising such a thing.”

“Sure did, didn’t I, Mary?” he said as he looked nervously in her direction.

“Eh, yeah, you sure did.” Mary sounded a bit awkward. In the old days, she never appeared awkward around Steve. Now, she seemed ill at ease and unable to even look at him for some reason. Troy and Ken gave each other a knowing glance as an uncomfortable silence settled on the group.

“Well, better be going. Air conditioner seems to be working fine. See you soon, Troy. Goodbye Mary, bye Ken!” Steve began to reverse out of the driveway.

“See ya,” said Ken. “What the hell was that all about?” Ken spat some tobacco juice on the ground and adjusted his ponytail.

Troy shook his head. “You don’t even want to know.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea. One thing’s for sure, he’s not getting an invite to my barbeque this weekend if he’s doing that to you. I would kill him if I suspected…”

Troy cut him off. “Well, as soon as I have more proof, I intend to confront them about it.” Troy looked off towards the shelter that he had begun to build.

He had bought two large shipping containers to use for his bunker. For weeks the shipping containers sat stacked on the front yard, much to the neighbors chagrin. Mrs. Jenkins was particularly perturbed at the sight of the containers and would ask Troy about them on an almost daily basis, even though the houses were really spread out in that area.

“When are you going to get those containers out of there?” she would ask him rudely.

“I’m working on it, Mrs. Jenkins,” he would always reply, and wave her off.

The Thompsons that lived on the other side just ignored Troy and his project, although every now and then they would give him a look of disgust as they walked by his property. They clearly wished he would wrap up the construction and cease making so much noise.

At the start, Troy had rented a bulldozer and dug a huge hole in the side of the forested hill, just behind the main house. Now, Troy had gotten to the point that the shipping containers were inside the large hole, stacked on top of one another so that the shelter would have two floors. He had cut a hole out of both of them and put a small staircase in to connect the floors together.

Each of the floors had been partitioned into several rooms, including a large living room-type space on the bottom floor, a kitchen, and a storeroom in the back. The upstairs has been partitioned into two bedrooms, one for Troy and his wife, a bedroom for his two children, and finally one bathroom in the back.

That day, he and Ken began carrying oxygen tanks into the back storeroom on the bottom floor. After they finished carrying in the tanks, Ken helped him install the air filtration system throughout both of the levels of the shelter. Troy had already spent close to thirty thousand dollars, and he still wasn’t nearly finished with the project. He had also begun to store hundred of dollars worth of canned goods and other items in the storeroom. He estimated that he had enough food for at least four to five months by now.

Mary walked outside and watched the two men install the ducts for the air filtration system in the side of the hill. She crossed her arms and shook her head in disapproval. As soon as Troy walked out of the shelter, Mary began to berate him.

“You know we have several unfinished projects in our
actual
house, don’t you?”

“I will get to them, I promise,” Troy said.

“Let’s start with the plumbing issues in the kids’ bathroom. Do you want Cordelia hogging our bathroom for the foreseeable future?” Mary asked.

“Of course, I don’t, Mary. Look, it won’t be long now until the shelter is all but finished. I hope there never comes a day when we will need it, but if that day comes, we will be prepared while others are wishing that they had,” he said.

Mary just rolled her eyes and walked back into the house.

Troy set his sights on the shelter again. Once he and Ken had finished with the air filtration system, he was ready to put in the beds and finish the plumbing so that the kitchen and bathroom would be fully functional. He had ordered all of the necessary parts and they were due to come in the following week, along with the incinerator. As Ken and Troy began to put in the screens on the air purifier, Ken began to speak.

“Man I know lots of people think you’re crazy for building this thing, but I want you to know that I don’t,” Ken said, as he hammered the screen into place.

“Thanks buddy, that really means a lot.”

“I know where I’m going to head when the shit hits the fan.”

“Well, I guess I need to add one addition for your family, too,” Troy joked as the two continued to work.

Finally, as it got to be about eight in the evening, the air filtration system was in place, fully installed. Troy and Ken high-fived each other as they looked around at the work that they had done. They came out of the steel-reinforced door that was the only thing you could see in the side of the hill and sealed up the shelter.

“Dinner is ready!” Mary yelled out of the door curtly as Ken turned to leave.

“Hey buddy, good luck, with everything,” Ken said as he turned to go.

“Thanks, I certainly have my hands full around here, don’t I?”

Ken climbed in his truck. “Hey, sometimes crazy shit happens to good people. I’m sure that you can handle it if anyone can.”

“Thanks man, I don’t know what I’d do without your help.” Troy watched his friend back out of the driveway.

Troy prepared himself for the uncomfortable encounter that he would have almost every night with his family at dinner. As he sat down at the table, he noticed that Brandon was looking at the ground, as if in a deep depression, and Cordelia was nowhere to be seen.

Mary came over to the table and put down a container full of fried chicken, and then went over to get the vegetables and sides to go with it. She didn’t bother to ask Troy how his day was or anything of that nature. Unfortunately, that had begun to be the norm each evening.

“Cordelia!” Mary shouted as she walked back in the kitchen. “Cordelia, you come down here right now and have dinner with your family!” A long silence followed and Cordelia still didn’t come down.

“I’ll go check on her.” Troy got up from the table. “When I get back, I want to know what’s on your mind, son.”

Even though his family wasn’t showing him the love he felt he deserved, he wanted to continue to be the caring person in the family that could hold them all together.

Troy ran up the stairs and pounded on the door. Then he heard Cordelia and another voice, whispering to each other.

“Cordelia, open this door, RIGHT NOW! That boyfriend of yours better not be in there.” He heard more scuffling and decided to go ahead and open the door. As he did so, he noticed that Cordelia was on the bed, fastening her bra. Her bedroom window was open and her clothes were scattered all over.

“Dad, get out of my room!” she screamed as she quickly put on a shirt.

“Where is he?” Troy yelled as he went and looked out of the window. Sure enough, her boyfriend, Henry, was underneath, climbing down the trunk of a large oak tree.

“Henry, do not come back to this house again. You and Cordelia are no longer allowed to see each other!” he shouted out of the window as Cordelia began to cry and run down the stairs.

“Mom, dad barged into my room!” Cordelia announced as she came down the stairs.

“Well, you wouldn’t open the door,” Mary responded.

Troy came back down the stairs and sat down at the table, shaking his head. Cordelia wouldn’t look at him. She just kept sobbing softly to herself.

“What's the matter, dear?” Mary said, again being the parent that would give in to her little girl.

“Dad told me I can’t see Henry anymore,” she said through her tears. Mary looked at Troy and raised her eyebrows at him.

“Yeah, she forgot to mention the part where she was getting dressed just after her boyfriend climbed out of the window,” Troy said.

Cordelia would not look either one of her parents in the eye.

“Is that true?” Mary asked, knowing it was when Cordelia responded the way she did.

“I’m really sorry, guys.” Cordelia put on her soft voice, the way she did when she was determined to get her way.

“It’s alright, Cordelia, just don’t let it happen again,” Mary said, as Troy let out a sigh showing his disapproval of the way his wife handled the situation.

Troy turned to his son, Brandon, who still hadn't bothered to look up from his feet.

“Son, what’s bothering you today?” Troy asked him, prompting Brandon to look up at his father.

“Oh, nothing, just another day of being called faggot and getting thrown against the lockers,” he said.

“What? Who did that to you?” Troy asked with a look of concern.

“This boy, Douglas, and his friends. They came up to me when I was at my locker and said, ‘Hey, we heard that you like it when boys touch you.’ I didn’t respond, but then Douglas said, ‘So I guess, you will like this…’ Then he threw me against the locker until I dropped all of my books. I tried to get them off of me just as the principal came walking up.”

“What did he do?”

“He took me to the office and told me that I didn’t need to send ‘signals’ to the other students that would make them want to pick on me,” Brandon answered.

“He did
what
?” Troy said in an outraged voice.

“What about the other boys, did they get into trouble?” Mary asked her son.

“No, they got a warning. He didn’t even bring them into the office.”

“That is not okay, son. I will go up there as soon as I get a chance and have a nice little chat with that principal of yours,” Troy said with determination. “He can’t go around blaming the victims for incidents like that at the school. You have every right to be who you are, and no one is going to tell a son of mine otherwise.”

Cordelia looked up at her father and gave him a partial smile. Despite her disobedience, she loved her father and always liked it when he stood up for Brandon.

“I agree with your father,” Mary said, making Brandon smile finally.

“I’m going to go right up to Douglas tomorrow and kick him in the nuts!” Cordelia made Brandon laugh.

“No dear, you will do no such thing,” Mary corrected her.

After dinner, Troy helped his wife clean up the dishes. He tried to make small talk with her but she was having none of it. She was clearly still upset about the amount of money that her husband was spending on the bunker. After the kids had gone up to their rooms, she confronted him about it again.

“So how much of our savings are you planning on spending on this shelter?” Mary said as soon as the couple was alone.

“As much as it takes to get it right,” Troy replied. “Don’t worry, I already have money set aside for the kids’ college funds and for retirement.”

“And what about a vacation? We haven’t taken one in the past year or two and the kids and I would really love to go to Florida this summer.”

“We will have to see about that,” Troy said, as his mind went back to the bunker and how much the incinerator was going to cost.

“No, Troy!” she snapped back, angrily. “You need to start making this family your first priority, and not your little survivalist project. Ever since we moved here you have become possessed with that thing,” she said accusingly.

“Well, I have to do something to pass the time now that my wife seems to show very little interest in me,” he tried to turn things around on her.

She went silent for a moment and then finally spoke again,

“Maybe it’s you who first stopped showing an interest in me?” A slight whimper showed up in her voice. He could see that a tear was forming in her eye, but Troy didn’t feel sorry for her. In fact, he grew even more angry.

“Don't give me that crap, Mary. Everything that I have done, I have done for this family and what thanks do I get? I get to watch you act awkward around my friend Steve, who by the way, I’m about to start calling an ex-friend. Why is Steve always around here when I’m gone, and then he wants to leave as soon as I show up?”

Mary grew quiet and focused on cleaning the kitchen.

“So what if you have caught him here a couple of times, that doesn’t prove that we’re having an affair,” she retorted.

“Well, you still aren’t denying it, are you?”

“Don’t try and change the subject on me, Troy. Maybe if you had paid more attention to your family, our sixteen year old daughter wouldn’t be sexually active, and your son wouldn’t be thinking he was gay.”