2110

Here is just a little part of what I am working on.

2110
Dr. Jimmy Tulley walked toward the cash register. As the door opened to his right, a copper bell on the wall behind it swung, ringing twice. Two men entered the small café and pushed by on their way to an empty table.

Music flowed from a lap top computer lying open on the counter next to the register. Jimmy saw half of its screen and stopped short. He recognized the popular, internet talk show.

The voice of the host, Neo Thorne, filled the air,
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“Madame President, today is November 10, 2110 and you are telling us you are not heading for your underground, fortified bunker?

No, Mr. Thorne –

Neo.

Uh—Yes, Neo. No, I am not.

But there is an under ground bunker; am I correct? – What’s it called? Noah’s Ark?

Yes. Noah’s Ark.

Tell us about it.

Well, um, yes. It’s an international government project -- an underground bunker in desert of the Independent United Americas. It is stockpiled with supplies needed after an Armageddon-like disaster -- agriculture, technology, textiles, information . . . but, Neo, that disaster will not happen today.

You’ll be home today?

I will be at home today. In fact, my family will be having a barbecue this afternoon. It’s my husband George’s birthday today.

Oh, yes. Tell him happy birthday; will you?

Thank you. I will.

So, Madam President, scientist’s warnings that those Armageddon-like events you just mentioned may happen in the next 12 hours, you and your family will be having a birthday barbecue this afternoon.

Well, Mr. Thor -- uh, Neo. My top advisors, and New Oxford’s finest, assure me there will be no disaster to avoid today.

New Oxford University? What do you say about the reports in the IUA Times written by Doctor James Tulley, professor of Global Warming Studies? He is at NOU. He says that in the next few hours, another global earthquake will occur, causing tsunamis, and world wide catastrophes unlike any other. The continents will change in shape once again. What do you say to that?

Neo, I would say, the governments of the biggest conglomerate of democratic countries will not be held captive to the ravings of this madman named Jimmy Tulley.”
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Jimmy winced at the sound of his name. Even though he felt like everyone in the room had their eyes on him, he knew they didn’t. The café sat in the middle of nowhere, no one knew him here; right? He approached the register and looked over at a teenage boy behind the counter.

Standing and watching the broadcast, the boy took his wrist and he pushed a long piece of his curly, black hair out of his eyes. He put down the coffee pot and wiped his hands on his apron as he stepped over to the register. Jimmy handed him cash, the days of credit had long since passed.

The broadcast conversation became heated,
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“Neo, please, at the turn of the century, New Years Eve 1899, the world waited on pins and needles for the world to end. The next century, the year 1999, it brought world-wide panic – a hoax called Y2K.

And, Ms. President, the world we live in today is very different from centuries past. You and I were kids that day in 2080 the day fire filled the sky. We watched in terror as whole continents broke apart and shifted in the sea-- Planes crashing to the earth, whole cities burned or swallowed by the moving ground. Earth lost over half its human population and the globe looks nothing like it's former self. Madame President, if Dr. Tulley is correct, we’ve seen nothing yet.

Yes, but I assure you -- and top advisors assure me -- there is no reason to fear today --
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The boy popped the computer shut rendering the voices silent.

“You believe this? Personally, I refuse to live in fear.” He said, shaking his head, his black hair bouncing.

Wiping one of his hands on his apron, he put Jimmy’s $20 bill into the slot within the register. As he pulled out change, he looked up with his boyish black eyes.

Jimmy’s heart broke at the ignorance of this boy and the fact that he would not know what hit him. The boy had only a few hours of his young life left.

Jimmy looked at his name tag, as he leaned over the counter to speak to the young man.

“Listen, Pedro, I know you don’t know me from Adam, but you need to take cover. I know of a place.”

The boy's hand wiping over his apron pocket slowed to a stop. He looked at Jimmy as if he were looking at a fugitive from a mental hospital.

“You look serious, man.”

“I am serious, Pedro.”

Pedro looked down at the money and laughed.

“Who are you, a preacher?”

“No, I am a scientist.”

Pedro looked up and tilted his head. He handed Jimmy his change and then started to shake his finger. A look of recognition spread over his face.

“A scientist? You’re that guy Tulley!”

This is the conversation Jimmy had been having for years, and by now he could recognize his cue to exit. He took his change and turned towards the door.

Pedro laughed.

“Look, every one, it’s that “end of the world guy”! Uh -- Dr. James Tulley.” He said, his voice filling the small café’s room.

The bell behind the door clang twice as Jimmy pulled open the door; and, as it slammed shut behind him, he could hear the muffled voices of the mockers inside.

He rushed to his motorbike and swung his leg over its seat. Just then, his HAM radiophone gave a shrill ring. He pulled it from a pocket on the thigh of his pants and put the speaker to his ear.

“Dana, where are you?”

The voice on the other end talked frantically.

“You’re there?
. . .I thought we were meeting at the café!
. . .Okay, I’m on my way.”

As he put the radiophone back into his pant’s pocket, he noticed that the mockers had assembled on the front steps of the cafe.

“Hey, Jimmy, where you headed?”

Jimmy put his finger to the start button on the bike. It fired to a hum. He couldn’t tell if they heard him or not, and he didn’t know if he cared anymore if anyone heard him.

Looking out over the IUA desert horizon, he said,
“Noah’s Ark.”