One Shots of the Starkid Sort

The Melting (Jaime and Andrew)

I passed buildings covered in colorful artwork on my bike ride to the weekly climate debriefing. A large crowd gathered in Millennium Park as an image of the President of the United Nations appeared on the screen in front of us:
    “Good afternoon, citizens of Simulterris. As we enter into the third quarter of the year, we are pleased to say our CO2 emissions are below our annual goal of 6%. This past week, over 500,000 trees have been planted, with Canada in the lead having planted 200,000 new maple trees. Prices of avocados have risen from 6 to 7 labor points - some might even say it’s avo-control *chuckles*. Additionally, we have opened a new eco-plant in Venezuela where you can earn a bonus of 1000 labor points if you are one of the first 500 workers. As we approach Thanksgiving, we would like to remind you all of our newest Turkey substitute, не индейка, developed by Igor Reznikov, a winner of the Nobel Prize in conservation. We encourage all of our dear citizens to continue to live your lives with conservation in mind and remember the consequences of not doing so! Happy planting!”
    The screen went black, cutting off the president’s laugh. I still can’t believe he got elected last year. Being president of the entire world was a big job and John Iberston wasn’t nearly qualified. But that was the way it worked in Simulterris, you ‘elected’ who the president suggested and you didn’t question it. John was the son of our former president, Samuel, who wasn’t too great himself. Years ago, when my grandpa was young, we actually had semi-decent leaders, but each one recommended a colleague just a little bit worse than themselves and suddenly we were stuck with Iberston number 2. The guy was a lunatic. He was raised by left wing extremists and truly didn’t see that we were basically entering another ice age. To him, all that mattered was that nothing got warmer. He didn’t realize there was such a thing as too cold, and he very much had us on track to ruin the planet by conserving too much.
    I walked my bike back to my apartment, figuring it would kill some time until we were allowed to use the electricity. We still had about 3 hours, but any distraction was welcome. I decided to take the long way home down Halsted so that I could check out any new art on the buildings.
    Since paper had been outlawed in Simulterris for years, people were forced to be creative elsewhere. It was actually encouraged that we decorate the walls with our art and express ourselves, so long as we didn’t contradict the government.
    Halsted was my favorite street to view graffiti because it was far enough out of the city that it didn’t get monitored as often and there was more opportunity to see radical art before it got spotted by a drone and painted over.
    Unfortunately, nothing really grabbed my attention and I aimlessly wandered past the buildings to my apartment. The electricity wouldn’t kick on for a while, but my grid was in their allotted water usage window. I hopped into the shower, turning it on and off multiple times to conserve my weekly 100 gallons. The water was barely luke-warm, but I’d take what I could get compared to the outside temperature.
    As I was getting dressed, my stomach grumbled and I realized I hadn’t eaten yet. I went to the kitchen and opened the fridge to find it full of nothing. I was too lazy to do any real cooking, but a meal bubble wasn’t exactly calling my name. I opted for oatmeal because it was the least amount of work and the cheapest to replace. I hadn’t been working much lately because I’d been busy in the garage.
    I went back to the fridge to grab some milk and noticed a note I had stuck up earlier in the week. Date Night. I guess it was a good thing I showered. Date Night in Simulterris was a monthly speed dating event put on by the government. I think they thought that finding people with shared interests would make us even happier and more willing to conserve. Maybe they were right. Maybe if I wasn’t so bitter I wouldn’t have such a hard time not eating my favorite foods, not driving, not reading the paper books I so dearly missed.  
    As 7 o’clock rolled around, the same feeling of nausea and dread filled me. Date Night brought me endless stress. I was painfully introverted and the thought of having to converse with someone I could end up falling in love with churned my insides to no end. But it was my only chance to meet people considering I spent what little free time I had after working in the garage trying to get labor points or sleeping to make up from spending the night on the lake.
    I donned a blue flannel and dark grey pants paired with my favorite leather shoes and winter coat. After one last look in the mirror and a smoothing of my hair, I grabbed my keys and headed out the door. The whole walk, my mind raced with thoughts of meeting the perfect woman, immediately followed by fucking the whole thing up. I tried not to be so hard on myself, but after you’ve done something so many times, it gets hard to think of a different outcome.
I had met 12 women so far and was nearing the end of the night. I definitely hadn’t met my other half, but surprisingly, nothing had gone catastrophically wrong.
Woman number 13 approached my table and sat down.
“Hi, I’m Jaime,” she said, offering me a warm smile.
“Hi,” I began, but it was almost completely inaudible. Her smile faltered a little and my palms began to dampen with sweat. I took a shaky breath and continued. “I’m Andrew,” I said, quickly wiping my hand on my pant leg before extending it to greet her. Thankfully, I don’t think she noticed the sweat because there was no look of disgust on her face like there had been with some of the previous girls. As she let go though, I saw her wipe her own hand on her sweater. Maybe she just didn’t care.
“So, Andrew,” she said, probably sensing that this whole talking thing wasn’t my forte,  “How are you today?”
“Umm. Pretty good, you know.” I laughed nervously. She smiled.
“That’s good. I’m doing pretty well myself. After the debriefing this morning, I went out to the lake to draw before heading in for a few hours at the ecoplant.” I was glad to see she didn’t mind carrying the conversation. Then again, maybe she did mind, because an awkward silence had started. Come on Andrew. Just say something. Anything. I cleared my throat.
“So, uh, you draw?” I asked. Yeah, that’s good. Ask about her hobbies.
“Yeah! As much as I can. I really miss drawing on paper, but my tablet isn’t too bad. Drawing really just calms me down and centers me,” she said.
“I miss reading paper books so I know the feeling” I said. This was getting easier. She even did that thing that girls do where they giggle a little and tuck their hair behind their ear. I loved that. “What do you like to draw?” I asked. There was a shift in the mood. Shit, what did I do now.
“Oh, you know, just whatever,” she said, avoiding making eye contact with me.
“Aw come on, I want to know,” I said. I was still so shocked at how easy it was for me to talk to her, despite her sudden distance.
“Well,” she bagan. I looked at her with eager eyes. “It’s a little weird.” I looked at her still, my eyes widening and eyebrows raising. “Okay,” she said, suddenly back to her engaging self. She leaned on her elbows and got her face closer to mine. “It’s really weird, but I love drawing cars. Now I’ve never seen one in real life - well, besides in museums - but I have a bunch of pictures from my great grandpa and the cars in the movies and stuff to base them off of.”
Holy shit, I found her. Yep, she was the one.
“Have you ever broken any conservation laws?” I asked her.
“Well that was one hell of a subject change,” she said, clearly confused.
“Come on. Just answer. Have you?” I asked again.
“Well if you must know,” she said, “I do have some boxes of paper under my bed that I use to draw really special pieces,” she whispered. I smiled.
“Do you wanna get out of here?” I asked. “I want to show you something I think you’ll really like.” Her face contorted slightly as she sat back, straightening her posture.
“This isn’t some ploy to get me to some dark basement so you can murder me is it?” she asked.
“Well… I’m definitely not going to murder you, but I make no promises on the basement situation,” I said. Afterall, my garage technically was underground.
She sat for a moment with a look of skepticism and consideration on her face, her eyes almost closed and he mouth slightly scrunched. I can almost guarantee she was wondering whether she should trust me, a stranger she met 8 minutes ago, and she was right to. I was about to show her something a little more illegal that some old boxes of paper. Of course, she didn’t know that.
“Okay,” she said quickly and excitedly. I grinned at her eagerness.
As we walked further away from the center of the city, I could feel her reluctance growing. She really thought I was going to murder her. I spoke up to try to diffuse the tension.
“We’re almost there, promise,” I said. I’m not sure it eased her nerves all that much, but she nodded.
Two and a half blocks later we were approaching the abandoned apartment building that stood guard over my garage. She looked terrified and she was trying to discretely rummage through her purse for something, probably pepper spray or a taser.
“Okay, I know how this looks,” I said. “What you have in front of you is an abandoned building that you’re about to enter into with a strange man. I’m sensing a little apprehension here so if you don’t want to come in I totally get it. I can call you a cab or something. But I promise that you’re going to be totally safe and in for something you won’t see anywhere else.
Oddly enough, she didn’t hesitate in saying, “Okay, let’s go!” a complete 180 from her state of mind just a minute prior.
I went through the tedious process of undoing the ridiculous number of locks and finally opened the door. It was almost completely pitch black inside, so I turned on my phone flashlight. Were I by myself, I would’ve used the walls to guide me down to the garage, but I thought Jaime would appreciate the assistance of the dull light.
Every last hint of nerve was gone from Jaime’s face and I could see pure excitement in her eyes as they shone in the glow. It was going to be so exciting to see her reaction.
We reached the bottom of the stairwell that would lead into the garage. I opened the door and counted to three before flicking on the light switch - it had cost me a couple thousand labor points to get a battery powered generator to keep this place off grid.
“Holy. Shit,” she said. Her eyes widened in awe and pure joy. She walked to the nearest car and ran her fingers along the hood, feeling the intense smoothness that only a fresh paint job had. She was dumbfounded.
Suddenly, her smile vanished. “Does anyone know about this?” she asked quickly, sounding concerned.
“Not a soul but me and my late grandfather,” I said. “And you.”
Her smile returned. I grabbed her hand and practically dragged her, running from car to car, showing her my favorite parts about each one. I think I talked more in those next two hours than I had in the past year. I was rambling uncontrollably and although I could tell she didn’t understand most of the car jargon, she was listening intently.
The night had ended with a bite to eat and walking Jaime back to her apartment. I wanted so badly to take her out on the lake, but I figured I would save that until I knew her a little better. I’d have to drive by myself in the meantime.
My car tires screeched, and I could feel the adrenaline pulsing through me as I drifted across the ice. I could see the glow of the sun beginning to appear on the horizon. Just a few more miles… I had to get back to the garage before the city was drowned in light, before anyone could see me. But just a few more miles…
The car really was driving better since I’d replaced the shock absorber. Grandpa would have been so proud. He had owned one of the last cars in the city and it took them ages to find his body shop to take it from him. Little did they know he had a whole garage full under an old apartment complex on the edges of the city. Those cars were mine now and I loved them as if they were my children. It’s not like I was avenging his death by being out there driving - he died of old age - but I couldn’t help but feel like I needed to be out there driving for him, regardless of the dangers.  
    Okay, just once more around the end of the planetarium and then I had to take it back. The sun was rising fast.
    I ripped the handbrake as I approached the end of the peninsula, beginning my drift around the edge. I heard a crunch and felt something shift below me. Before I knew what was going on, my car wasn’t moving anymore. I looked to my left. I… I was sinking? That wasn’t possible, the lake had been frozen for years.
I was sure that’s what was happening though. I opened the door and felt a rush of cold water hit my feet. Shit. I plunged myself into the icy water beside my car and quickly scrambled onto the pier of the planetarium. I stood in disbelief as I watched my car become immersed in the waters of Lake Michigan. Well, fuck. There goes that car.
Oh my god, who cares about my car?! The lake! Shit the lake is melting. Oh my god it's all my fault they’re going to catch me and send me to be a conservation laborer for the rest of my life. I mean I don’t actually know how many emissions a car puts off, but it can’t be enough to melt the fucking lake, right? God damnit why don’t they teach this shit in school anymore. It has to be my fault though. I don’t see anyone else driving around in their grandpa’s illegal cars. Yep. Had to be me. My carbon footprint has melted the fucking lake.
If I leave now though, there’s no way they could trace the car back to me, right? Yeah. I’ll just go home, get back in bed, and wake up just like I do every morning. No one has to know it was me.
I pulled out of my frantic state and felt my wet clothes beginning to stiffen. My whole body shivered and thought I might die of hypothermia if I didn’t get home.
------
*insert scene(s) here* Andrew is worried about getting caught. He feels very guilty. He and Jaime have one more date, but he avoids the lake at all costs and tries not to talk too much about cars. At the next climate debriefing, there is no mention of the melting lake, much to Andrew’s surprise. The government is either completely blind to the climate changes, or they think they can fix them on the down low before they get out of hand. Andrew leaves the climate debriefing to walk home and… ˇˇˇ
------
    As I approached Fullerton Ave, I saw a wall painted entirely black, just past the corner. I knew it couldn’t have been painted over by any government laborers, because they always used white in order to give us a blank canvas. I quickened my pace and felt my heart beat faster as my excitement built. I neared the wall and saw that it wasn’t actually all black. There was a small white arrow in the center pointing down. My eyes followed the direction of the arrow down to the sidewalk. There was a small note painted at the base of the wall that read, “Lay down. Look up. 2pm.”
    It was already 1:15 and I had time to kill anyway. I anxiously walked the streets of Lincoln park, looking at the art and absorbing nothing. My mind was too focused on what would happen at 2pm. Would there be something in the sky? Was it a one time thing? Was there anything at all? Maybe the artist lives in a nearby apartment and just wanted to see how many people he could get to lie down on the gross Chicago sidewalk. But my curiosity was too strong.
    It was 1:51 and I could’ve sworn time stopped. Not only did my watch seem to freeze, but nothing around me was happening. The wind stopped blowing and I heard no people out in the streets. It was like everyone knew that something big was about to happen and they left me alone to experience it.
    I walked back to the corner of Halsted and Fullerton and hung out about 10 feet away from the wall until it was time. My watch worked down to the second and at 1:59:50 I double checked to make sure there was no one nearby. I walked up to the white arrow on the wall so I was looking it in its nonexistent eye. My eyes followed the same path down to the note on the sidewalk and I did exactly as it said.
    With my heels against the wall, my body spanned the sidewalk, head nearing the curb. I looked up and… nothing. Not a single thing. I sat up and looked around, my eyes darting in every possible direction expecting to see some kids snickering around the corner about how they had gotten a grown man lie down on the sidewalk that was probably covered in remnants of piss and puke. But I didn’t hear or see anything. The sun came out from behind the clouds, and I laid down again in disappointment. That’s when I saw it.
    The sun had revealed some irridescent writing on the wall. I stood up to get a better look, but it disappeared before I got the chance. NO! What did it say? Why was it so important that it be kept secret. But then I remembered. Lay down. Look up. 2pm. So I laid back down and there it was. A full paragraph of sparkling letters that revealed this person’s message to me, to whoever would read it. I quickly copied down every word, not wanting to miss my window. I got caught up on a few words; melt, dying, destruction, revolt. But there was no time to question. It was getting cloudy again and I scrambled to type the last words before the entire message disappeared.
    I practically sprinted back to my apartment. My chest was constricting and I couldn’t tell the difference between my asthma and the anticipation to read the message fully. How genius, though. The drone wouldn’t be able to pick up what was on the sidewalk and wouldn’t be able to see the words painted from the angle at which it flew by. This message would stay up until some asshole decided the wall would be better utilized to display their own idiotic work, until some impatient, ignorant prick painted over the unseen letters without taking the time to see what would happen if they laid down and looked up at 2pm.
    I rounded to corner onto Diversy, my feet nearly slipping out from under me. I faintly heard a neighbor call my name, but I couldn’t be bothered to see who it was. The note that contained the words from the wall was burning a hole in my pocket. I slammed through my front door and pounded up the stairs, taking them two or three at a time. Once I was finally behind the locked door of my apartment, my breathing, or lack thereof, caught up with me. I was wheezing uncontrollably and rooted around my bedside table in search of an inhaler. I breathed in the sweet tasting albuterol and held my breath. Upon exhale, there was a notable difference in the circumference of my airways and I fell into the chair next to my bed, taking another deep breath.
    Once I didn’t feel quite so much like I was going to black out, I pulled my phone from my pocket. I had made an endless amount of typos in the rush to finish, but it was legible, nonetheless. My eyes again darted to those same, intense words, but I forced myself to start from the beginning.
    “To whoever sees this message, I beg you to take it in stride. Our world as we know it is in an utter state of destruction. Iberston and his father have pushed our planet and its citizens past their breaking point. The level of conservation we have sustained, increasing annually, has been sufficient enough to launch us into the early stages of our next ice age, but in case you haven’t noticed, the results of conservation efforts have plateaued. Our sustainability numbers have not positively changed in years. Trees are dying left and right and the frozen waters have begun to melt, the opposite effect Iberston desires, regardless of how outlandish his sought after effect may be. People have been breaking conservation laws that have gone unnoticed by the government and their drones. These illegal actions are increasing our world’s carbon footprint and steering us away from the next ice age. Iberston would like to think that he can save it before anyone has the time to notice, but our footprint has grown too large to reverse, and it’s for the better. We must revolt against the government and return our earth to a reasonable state of inhabitance.”