New Beginning 974

The world didn't end on Mayan year zero but it tried real hard. The Yellowstone, Long Valley, and Valles calderas in the northern hemisphere, Lake Toba in Sumatra, Taupo in New Zealand, and Aira in Japan blew and activated the Pacific Rim volcanoes. Ashy ejecta blotted out the sun.

We called it the Dark Time and I was ten. Mom and Pop didn't survive the Resource War and plagues that followed. I stayed alive by being a privateer and bushwacker for decades. Recently, I've been guardian of surviving youths. My caves hold a dozen young men. We grow mushrooms, vegetables, berries, and raise rabbits, goats, and sheep.

I walked into the waterfall where we bathed and came behind Angel Wings, my youngest charge who we thought was eighteen years old. The wings tattooed on his back hid the scars and permanent welts. Tonight, they moved up and down with his efforts. These boys need relief and privacy. I didn't breathe as his body stiffened for a silent finish. I tried to back away.

"Please don't. I want to talk about the time before? Will we ever have towns, suburbs, wives, and children?" Angel asked, tears in his eyes.

Maybe not, but we sure still have burgers."

Angel and I turned to see who'd spoken: a squat guy on a unicycle. Slung round his neck was a portable mini-barbecue, the sizzle of its burgers complementing the volcanic boom like a suffocating snake buried under a dump truck.

"Fifty cents for regular, a dollar fifty for jumbo, mustard and ketchup fifteen cents a squirt."

"Sure beats eating sheep," said Angel. "And the fractal patterns swirling in that cooking oil are easier on the eye than any ejecta. Or any ejacula, for that matter."

"One problem," I said. "Since the Resource War, we've had no resources. Like coins."

"I'll take your pants," said the squat guy. "It's a fair exchange in a nightmare world where the only relief from contemplating a fractured and dystopian future comes from raising rabbits in caves with young men."

Angel slipped off his moose hide chaps. "I'm in."

"Me too." I unhitched my customised brassiere thong. "Do we get napkins with these? I'm a messy eater."

The squat guy flipped a burger with his foot long tongue which up till now we had mistaken for a lurid cravatte. "Napkins — why, yeah. And a toy. You want Disney, Britney Spears or a bizarre alien dildo?"
 

Opening: Dave F......Continuation: Whirlochre