by Jack Swenson
Jake is at the ballgame when the shaking starts. It takes him two hours to get home. He listens to the reports on the radio as he sits in traffic. A freeway overpass has collapsed; they don't know how many people are dead.
When Jake gets back to his townhouse, he checks for a gas leak. He sniffs the air. Nothing. The dog is happy to see him. His tail thumps on the carpet. The cat is asleep on the couch.
He goes outside and talks to a neighbor. "Everything all right at your house?" Jake asks. The other man nods. He looks disappointed.
Jake goes back inside, turns on the TV, and sits down. It is the end of the world! A lane of the Bay Bridge has fallen into the bay. A building downtown has lost its skin. Cars in the street below are covered with dust and bricks. Out on the avenues there is a fire, and an apartment that used to be three stories is now two. The ground floor is in the basement.
He calls a friend and asks him if he is all right. His friend says more or less.
Jake makes himself a salami sandwich for supper. He watches the show on TV. The dog parks himself at his feet and licks his lips.
The phone rings. It's Jake's wife. She asks him if he is okay. He tells her he is fine. "And you?" he asks. Okay, she says. "How's Prince Charming?" he asks. Don't start, she says.
Jake goes to bed that night and dreams that he is a baseball player. It's game one of the World Series, and he goes oh for five. He strikes out the first four times he comes to bat, and the last time he hits into a double play.
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More true lies. It was a doozy of an earthquake.
Nice one, Jack. I like the mimicking of reality in his dream.
Very fine story. Did you realize that the title is identical to one of Lee Child's novels? I must say, I don't know how this guy can make tons of money writing bad novels.
You are such a better writer than Lee Child. He should pay you to be his ghost writer.
Nicely framed. I like the paranoid/OCD-nature of this dude. Peace...
So nicely written. I loved "Everything all right at your house?" Jake asks. The other man nods. He looks disappointed." How weirdly, wildly true it is, when disaster hits, everyone wants to be okay, but they all want to have that one little thing that will make them part of the big story!
One comment. I didn't understand the "Prince Charming" remark. Is the wife off with another man?
Good story, Jack. Especially like the closing - but it makes me think of the Giants in the Bay series where they were demolished. I think everybody went 0 for 5.
Enjoyed the read even if it did bring back that bad memory - I'm a Giants fan so I should learn to live with pain, right - but hey, we've got the best pitching in baseball.
Enjoyed this. The part about watching the disaster on TV really resonated with me. I can see the 'breaking news' headlines and the breathless excitement of the perfect-teeth people. Anyway, it's all so relaxed until the wife calls, and then it has immediate tension. Well done.
It's almost like this guy wishes something went wrong among people he knew so that he'd have something to say. Strange piece. And yet it captures very well how communities react in a quake--all the calls, the looking for trouble, and the usual degree of nonevent for most.
I love the various ironies here. "It's the end of the world," but one can still make a sandwich and a snide comment about "Prince Charming." I wish I'd been that cool. Didn't know where the spouse was for hours and hours with the bridge down, sister came over from Oakland, we watched TV, started laughing more and more hysterically with each bit of bad news: there's just something about being ok when nothing's ok. Earthquakes. And other things.
I like this a lot, Jack. The calm sandwich making when the world is falling apart. The neighbor looking disappointed because he's okay. Wish I knew more about baseball so I could get more out of that part, which is so symmetrically crafted.
I enjoyed where this ended up. Everything building up to it had me thinking of his wife, kids, etc. How were they? Then you gave me the answer, and much more.
"A building downtown has lost its skin." Great sentence.