“Go check on Mama,” I said calmly. Calmly. Because I was calm. “If she has a fever, come get me.”
He sniffled, but didn’t argue.
I gave him five minutes while I carefully and meticulously (and calmly) put on lipstick Dark Cherry No4. At the time, it seemed vital that I do.
When his tiny voice confirmed she was awake and didn’t have a fever, I pulled on my boots and, without a word, went out the door.
The staircase was thick with shadows without the lights and small windows only installed on every other landing. Every bone in my body ached as the cold penetrated even my boots (I had to reduce my sock numbers to two). It only got worse outside. At least it wasn’t windy.
There was no part of me that didn’t hurt, aside from the soul I left somewhere far behind me, for safekeeping, because I might need it later so I didn’t get damned to hell. This was the worst day of my life, and it wasn’t even ten o’clock, and I only knewthat because my watch was wind-up.
The first payphone I tried wasn’t working, and I should have known that, but by this point, there was no intelligible plan; just keep walking and mind the ice patches (they weren’t patches, they were the entire road and sidewalk and sides of buildings… dark… dark buildings).
The next phone hung knocked off the receiver, and softly swayed because the window plastic in the booth had broken out and the breeze was picking up.
So, I kept walking. There were people on the streets, a lot of them. Not unusual, but I was still within the district and all of us were simply grim, gray figures moving like ghosts through a graveyard. And, that’s what it was. A graveyard. Every street, apartment complex, kiosk, and small grocery store with bars over the windows—all dark and dead like headstones.
I walked for an hour and a half before I reached a payphone that worked. I knew it worked because a line thirty people long formed around it, and every voice was angry and indiscriminant of age or gender. There were teenagers, elderly, and young mothers with bound bundles in their arms.
A man finished his call and slammed the receiver, swearing. The man in line behind him shouted and there was almost a brawl.
I waited for an hour, and the line grew. The elderly man behind me bowed his head, leaning heavily on his trembling cane. For just a moment, I wondered how far he had walked to get there. When I took a step forward, he did the same, but so mindfully it took twice as long. If I were a better person, I would have let him go ahead of me, but at that moment I was not a good person, I was a desperate person, and it took a disaster to show the line between the two is paper thin.
No one gave up their place in line.
When the woman ahead of me finished her call, I stepped up, reciting Misha’s number in my head so I wouldn’t suddenly forget it. I patted my pocket for the call token.
And realized I’d left without it.
I gulped, trying to keep my composure. My breath had soaked the inside of the scarf wrapped all the way to my eyes, and I took another, and another. Someone behind me swore and shouted for me to hurry up.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned, the receiver still in my trembling hand. The elderly man held out a token. He wasn’t looking at me, and he didn’t say anything. I couldn’t even say‘thank you’when I took it because my throat was too tight.
The phone rang, and my eyes shut in the deepest prayer I had ever prayed, begging God that Misha would pick up.
“Allo.”
“Misha,” I rasped. “It’s Katya…”
“Ah. Hello.”
“I need help…”
* * *
About Russia
kasha– traditional porridge
mors– a thick fruit drink made with berries
About Blackouts:As the economy collapsed, it was impossible to maintain plants, and if a component failed,importing one could take years. These were both accidental and scheduled, but the people were warned about the scheduled ones and they lasted from a few hours to several days, and in some cases, weeks.
16
ThePast
The phone conversation with Misha wasn’t a long one. I barely got anything out aside from‘they shut it all off’and the name of the street I was on. He didn’t give me a hard time, and I was grateful, because I had nothing left in me to beg.
