The End Is Now

Eileen turned to look at Helen. “I’m happy for you. I was afraid you were going through this all alone. The thought of it just about killed me.”

“I appreciate that.” Ray was glad to be leaving things on good terms with Eileen, but offered nothing more. Helen was right there in the room, and she was in hell right now.

“Thank you for coming to check on me. You’re a good man.” She nodded. “You deserved better than me. And you found her, in the end.”

Ray nodded. He felt uncomfortable talking about this with Eileen; he cast about the room, looking for a way to change the subject.

A wonderful idea came to him. He went to Helen, lifted her. “I want to show you something.”

He carried her into his collectibles room, turned three hundred sixty degrees so she could see everything, then set her in the recliner. It was the only seat in the room, so Ray stood.

“I know you’re ambivalent about Batgirl. I wish you weren’t. I wish you could feel proud of what you did.”

Ray surveyed the objects in the room, seeing children’s toys. Brightly-colored junk.

“This makes me look pretty obsessive, doesn’t it?” He rested a hand on Helen’s shoulder, hoping it was reassuring to feel someone’s touch, hoping she wasn’t cringing inside. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shown you this.”

“Let me get you some water.” He went to the kitchen to get some ice water, gave Eileen, who was sitting on the couch beside Justin, what he hoped was a comforting smile as he passed.

He found straws in the back of the pantry. Then he remembered: Xanax. It was the one thing Helen had asked him to do for her. Her purse was on the front stoop, where she must have dropped it.

“Here you go.” He slid a Xanax tablet onto her tongue, put the straw in her mouth. Her lips closed on it, her mouth suddenly coming alive. She drank three hard pulls, then went still again. It was a frightening reminder that she was still completely alert, able to respond, even though her nervous system wasn’t allowing her to initiate any movements of her own.

What must it be like? How did it feel? A sour dread ran through Ray as he realized he might find out for himself. With every hour that ticked by, it grew a little more likely that he was one of the very lucky few, but there was no guarantee.

“Ray,” Eileen screamed from the living room.

Ray flinched at the urgency in her voice. “I’ll be right back.”

Eileen’s head was bobbing, her tight red curls bouncing. Ray hurried over, knelt and took her hand.

“My poor Eileen. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He kissed her hand. Justin watched him, probably jealous as Ray comforted his estranged wife.

“I’ll be right back.” He set Eileen’s hand in her lap, and went to get Helen. It would be simpler if they were all in the same room. Ray had read about caring for victims of the nodding virus; soon he’d be changing wet and soiled clothes—even Justin’s.

From her position in the recliner, the only way to lift Helen was to take her wrists and draw her forward until she fell into his arms. With her face pressed into his shoulder he carried her back to his TV chair, cradled the back of her head as he set her into it.

When she was settled, he kissed her cheek.

Straightening, he surveyed his silent charges. All of their eyes were on him. As he took a few steps, their eyes followed.

He wanted to say something, but found himself at a loss. What could he say to an audience of his ex-wife, her lover, and his newfound love? There were things he’d like to say to each of them individually, but nothing he wanted to say to all of them together.

Eileen had asked to be outside. In the week he’d spent at Helen’s house, she’d spent a good deal of time in her backyard, so he guessed she would like that as well. He couldn’t care less what Justin liked.

One by one, he carried them out to the padded lawn chairs on the back patio.

Justin had wet himself, so first Ray had to change him. He did his best to mask his disgust as he tugged off Justin’s wet underpants.

It was a nice day, with a light breeze, the sun occasionally eclipsed by clouds. Ray sat beside Helen, trying to ignore his pounding heart, his sweaty palms. If he developed the virus there would be no one to take care of them.

“I’m not much of a cook,” he said aloud, mostly because the silence made him feel terribly alone, reminded him that most everyone on Earth was either dead or dying. “I guess since all we have to eat is canned food, that doesn’t matter.”

He’d positioned Helen with her hands and elbows resting on the arms of her chair, as if she was about to spring into action.

For a moment, against all logic, it looked as if Helen was springing into action. Then Ray realized she wasn’t moving—he was. His neck was.

As his heart pounded wildly, he willed himself to face this bravely. “I have it. I guess we all knew it was only a matter of time.” He lifted his gaze to Eileen, struggling to keep his eyes on her as his head bobbed violently. “Eileen, we had twenty-two good years. I’m grateful for those.”