The Global Idea of ‘The Commons’. Отсутствует

It’s bound to straighten itself out. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened.”

      “The ocean on fire is not out of the ordinary?” Hedy’s level of hysteria was rising. “That’s so like you, Robert. You prefer to think nothing is happening!”

      * * * *

      The next morning things were no better. The children resigned themselves to remaining inside with their paper and crayons. The phone was ringing off the hook. Marsh flies were impervious to Deet, and cottage owners imprisoned on well-screened porches were desperate for information.

      Robert called Boston and talked to his father. “He says they are okay, except the electricity has been going on and off. Something about sporadic outages due to increasing demand. He says it is dreadfully hot, and we should stay where we are. You know, with the ocean breezes.”

      Hedy frowned, knowing that sarcasm would not make a dent in her husband’s ironclad optimism. “The thermometer is already at ninety-six, and it’s not yet ten o’clock. It must be awful for them in that apartment with no air conditioning.”

      “Don’t worry. The federal government is aware of the situation. Dad says they’ve been assured that everything will be back to normal in—the morning.”

      * * * *

      Leona Mercie came barreling up the path. She was a sweet, sincere woman, but often overzealous.

      “Why, Leona,” Robert said with false cheerfulness. “Come in quickly. Mind the plague of flies. Well now, maybe you can tell us what’s going on.”

      “A plague is right,” Leona said. “And what is going on is the end of the world. The world will end in tribulation and fire. That’s what the Bible says. And look around you.”

      “That’s what you think, huh?”

      “That’s what I know. I’ve got to get around to as many islanders as I can, and beg them to repent. Yes, the Second Coming is at hand, my friends, and the Lord is coming. It is not too late to be counted along with the sheep, and I warn you, the fate of the goats will not be pretty.”

      “Excuse me for asking, Leona, but just where is the Lord coming to? I mean where is he going to land?” Robert was not aware of his bemused expression. Crazy as he thought she was, he did not wish to offend her.

      “Land? Land? What do you think? He’s coming in a rocket ship or something?”

      “No, but where is He going to come to? It’s a big world, you know.”

      “That’s no consequence, Mr. Brewer. He’s coming in all His glory, that’s how. Our human minds cannot comprehend the scope of it. But believers will recognize it right away. Look! There’s no sun. The Lord is coming and I’ve got to get over to warn those two young men living in Ben’s place. What’s their names, Lennie and Jack? Well, now, as far as you’re concerned, I’ve done my part, the rest is up to you. And I beg you, Mr. Brewer, think of your two beautiful children.” And she hurried up the path as briskly as she came down it.

      “It is true,” Hedy said.

      “You must be joking.”

      “No, no, I mean about there being no sun.”

      And it was true that one could not actually see the sun. The world seemed stalled in a dim twilight. The only glimmer of light rose from the horizon, a pale and fading eerie glow.

      “Well, we’re not going to let it ruin our day, Hedy. At least we won’t have to worry about all that gloppy sunscreen. We’ll take a nice walk up to Look Out Point, and maybe stop over at Clem’s for Popsicles and a cold drink. And rest assured, the sun’s up there somewhere. I’m getting annoyed by all this pessimism. Where’s the bug spray? Chop, chop, kids, get on your sandals.”

      “But Daddy,” Alicia protested, tormented by a welt on her elbow, “it’s too hot to walk anywhere.”

      Robbie grimaced. “I have a terrible pain,” he wailed, clutching his stomach. “I don’t think I can walk at all.”

      They did not go outside. The heat was unmerciful and a sulfury pall was enclosing the world in its vise. Robert got out all the fans they never used, and plugged them in. Thankfully, they began to whir. Hedy pumped up an old plastic wadding pool that renters had thrown under the bungalow. She set it up on the screened porch for the children to play in. Robert plopped himself in front of one of the fans and opened his novel. Hedy retreated to the bedroom and switched on the portable radio.

      “They say the phenomenon is worldwide and the cities are in crisis,” she called out to him. “They say electric grids are failing all across the country, and oh my God, the elderly are dying like flies. The water supply is dwindling, and grocery shelves in most areas are empty. They’re telling people to stay in their homes. Oh God, Robert, do we have enough water?”

      “Yes, of course. The guy left three big bottles last delivery. Enough for a month.”

      “And food?”

      “You know very well we’ve got our emergency box, canned fruit and beans and such. Stop worrying.”

      “I’m not worried,” Hedy insisted, short of breath as she turned back to the radio. “They say the scientists believe it could be something to do with recent inexplicable sun flares, some kind of cosmic radiation high up in the stratosphere. Possibly explosions from a hyper nova. What does that mean?”

      “How the hell should I know, I’m a lawyer, not a scientist. They’re probably making a big deal over nothing, like they always do.”

      “Oh, my God, Robert! They’re saying a giant meteor may have fallen in some remote part of the world, disturbing the earth’s plates, and possibly causing widespread volcanic eruptions deep in the ocean. Isn’t that what killed the dinosaurs?”

      “Maybe the sun fell into the ocean,” Robbie gaily called from the porch.

      “Stop!” Robert said. “Turn off that damn radio. You’re upsetting the children.”

      Alicia peeked out from behind the sofa. She ran to her mother in tears. “I want everything to be like it was. I want the seaweed and the flies to go away, I want the sun to come out, Mommy. I want to go back to my room and my toys in the city.”

      Hedy took her in her arms and tried to soothe her. “Everything is going to be all right,” she cooed. “Just like it’s always been. Just like we like it, my sweet little Pumpkin.”

      Robbie called from the porch. “Maybe the sun fell into the ocean.”

      Robert jumped up, and went to him. He grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to his feet.

      “I do not want you to say that again. Ever. Do you understand me?”

      Robbie stood, stunned, in a puddle of water. “Ow, you’re hurting my arm.” He was not used to such rough treatment, and his eyes filled with tears.

      “Do you hear me?” Robert said, almost screaming.

      “Oh dear God,” Hedy said. She went to the porch, stretched out on a deck chair and looked at her long tan limbs. The legs she had always been so fond of. She stared at her manicured hands, and gathered up her hair into a ponytail to lift it off her neck. She sighed, a long weary sigh, and gazed out at an ocean that was no longer there. Nothing but hot dry sand, covered with bleached white shells and bones. And oh, yes, she could see them clearly: multitudes of soda cans and plastic bottles.

      The afternoon turned out to be unbearably long. The children were restless and irritable, and increasingly thirsty. The fans stood idle; the freezer had thawed. They ate canned baked beans for their supper. After the children were finally asleep in their stifling room, their parents listened to an address by The President, now in the hills of Camp David. The address was played over and over. He spoke in a soothing and self-assured voice. He advised people, above all, to stay calm.

      “The only thing we have to fear is fear,”