Fine, I’ll just let myself die next time, Kyle replied. You have like three minutes to respond to a stroke before the brain starts losing oxygen. I’ll be a vegetable. You can pull the plug on me. He slammed the door to his bedroom.
Is this a gay boy thing? Kym looked to Michelle. The drama?
Maybe, Michelle admitted. She thought having been raised by a Scorpio nurse who talked constantly about infection and malaise and also a Libra stricken with an endless illness might also have exacerbated her brother’s condition. The grisly medical books that filled Michelle with a detached fascination gave her brother anxiety attacks. He didn’t like hearing about falling rectums or South American parasites that swim up men’s penises or junkies accidentally injecting a flesh-eating bacteria into their bodies.
You don’t do that, do you? Kyle had once focused his nerves on his sister.
Inject Flesh-Eating Bacteria Into My Body? Michelle tried to joke herself out of the conversation. Nope.
No, you know, you don’t do, um. . Kyle ransacked his brain for its scant drug file. Michelle held her breath. Morphine? You don’t do morphine, do you?
Morphine! Her brother was such an innocent. Who did morphine? Civil War amputees? All the doctors at Ma’s work have secret morphine addictions, Kyle said. You and your girlfriends don’t do that, do you?
No, Michelle was happy to tell him. I Don’t Do Morphine.
You don’t shoot drugs?
No, she was pleased to assure him. I Don’t Shoot Drugs.
Swear to god?
Swear To God.
You don’t believe in god, though.
It’s True, I Don’t. Not A Fearsome And Punishing Christian God Who Would Strike Me Down For Lying To You. What Do You Want Me To Do?
Swear on something you love.
I Swear On You.
That morning Kyle’s anxiety was insistent. Michelle, you’ve got to get up. You’re still in bed? Get up, please. There’s a state of emergency. They’re grounding planes.
What, Why? Michelle said. She stood up. The blood drained from her head, dizzying her, then filled her back up. On a recent morning Michelle had passed out on the toilet bowl shortly after waking up. She’d been hunched over, in her normal amount of hangover pain, clutching a glass of water, and when she sat upright it was like her blood swirled down some drain in her body and her vision got sprinkled with black confetti. The glass slipped from her hand and for a moment she was not there. It had scared her.
People are jumping from the buildings in New York City. People are jumping from the World Trade Center, the Empire State, the Chrysler Building. I can’t get through to anywhere, I’ve been calling New York, I’ve been calling Boston, calling the moms, everything is a mess. I’m so glad I got through to you.
What Is Happening?
The world is ending. It’s such a mess. Scientists can’t reverse anything. The problems, the oceans, we’ve passed some point where it’s going to accelerate and become like some sort of horrible like sci-fi movie where we all start eating each other and bands of crazed rapists roam around murdering each other and no one will be able to go into the sun or they’ll explode like vampires, it’s going to get so hot. The levees in all the cities are cracking under the sea, they can’t keep up with how fast it’s rising and all the shit in it, it’s going to be like that crazy molasses factory in New England that Wendy likes to talk about, the one that exploded and everyone in the town drowned in molasses. There is some tsunami that is big enough to take out the entire West Coast of North America. They’re tracking it. It’s just a baby now, a baby wave, but it’s going to grow big enough to do that, and once it does all the waves will be like that, like all waves just become tsunamis and the ocean eats the land.
Really? Michelle said. Are You Serious? Do You Have Xanax For Yourself Right Now? Kyle’s words were so fast and crazed, they sickened Michelle like a carnival ride.
I’m fine, Kyle snapped. Stop projecting. I think I’m having a normal reaction to learning I’m going to be dead at twenty-six. But yes, I took a Xanax.
Can I Have Some Xanax?
I don’t know, Kyle said. I’ll have to see how many I have. I don’t know what’s going to happen to the pharmaceutical industry. I don’t want to be without antianxieties if the world is ending.
I Don’t Understand, Michelle wrestled with the information. Can’t Someone Do. . Something? What If They’re Wrong? What If They Kill The Planet And They’re Fucking Wrong And The Tsunamis Never Come And We’re All Dead?
How do I know? I’m not a scientist. I cast movies and stroke the ego of a crazy person. Do you want to know what I’m casting right now?
What? Michelle asked.
This movie about a Nordic boy who is lost on the coast of North America and raised by Native Americans and then grows up to save their tribe.
That’s So Racist! Michelle exclaimed. Why All These Movies About White People Saving Brown People?
I know, Kyle said. I’m casting that, plus a film about a really mean mother-in-law.
Oh, Kyle.
And now the world is ending. I wonder if I’ll have a job?
People Will Want To Go To The Movies, Michelle predicted.
But what if everyone loses their minds? Kyle worried. My boss is already so unstable. Things might just fall apart. People are killing themselves in New York City.
People Aren’t Killing Themselves Everywhere?
Not like there. They got the news first. And they’ll be one of the epicenters of the waves, one of the impact sites. It’s just hitting people there harder.
Michelle looked out her window, peeking through the shades. The rottweiler’s panting breath hit her in the face. Michelle was experiencing a disconnect, or perhaps her environment was. If the world were really ending, would the rottweiler remain at the window? Would cars keep cruising the freeway behind her building? Michelle could hear the smooth sweep of them, like rain.
Promise You’re Not Fucking With Me? Michelle demanded. Your Psychobitch Boss Didn’t Ask You To Try Out A Premise On Me? This Isn’t A Treatment For A Film You’re Casting?
No, I wish. Bruce Willis is not coming to save us. Turn on the TV, see for yourself.
Michelle knew once she turned on her television it would remain on for a very long time. She considered people leaping from buildings. She didn’t want to see that. Michelle just wanted to get back into her futon for the slightest bit longer. Just drink some water, let her headache subside.
I want you to know that I love you, Kyle said. I love you and I’m glad you’re in Los Angeles and that we can be close. You should come to my house today. Kyle lived out in North Hollywood, in a suburban neighborhood ten degrees hotter than any other part of the sprawl.
I Have Work, Michelle said.