Walking on Thin Ice

More from my project:

THE REPUBLICANS

“Why did you fight with Grandpa?” I asked Dad.

“Because he’s a Republican.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, there are Republicans, and they try to get all the money from people like us and give it to rich people. And then there are the good guys on our side, the Democrats.”

My opinion of Grandpa immediately plummeted. How could this good man like Republicans? Didn’t he know what they do?

“Nixon was the worst Republican. He was a real bad man. He broke the law. He spied on Americans.”

“I don’t understand. Why do people like the Republicans?”

“Because they don’t know any better. President Reagan is a Republican. He’s one of the worst. But the absolute worst was Nixon.”

“President Reagan likes jellybeans.” That’s pretty much all I knew about him ‘cept that he was old like Grandpa and had a big smile. We learned about the jellybeans in our weekly reader in school. We also learned about Sam Walton, who made Walmart. But I’ve never seen a Walmart.

“Did you know Reagan thinks ketchup is a vegetable? He’s trying to stop them from putting vegetables in your school lunches. He doesn’t care about kids.”

The rich kids at school got tator tots and pizza. Some of the really poor kids got that too. They had free lunches. But I’d never seen a vegetable in a school lunch. And we couldn’t afford to buy lunches, so I packed mine.

“But I’m really mad because Reagan is crazy. He sends money to bad people in other countries as long as they’re against the communists. He talks real tough to the Russians and they’re afraid he’s going to start a nuclear war.”

“Oh my God! What can we do to stop this? Why are people so stupid?”

“We can’t do anything about it, Kath. But we’re probably OK here. If there’s a nuclear war, the Russians will bomb the big cities, the military bases.”

“Will they bomb Cleveland?”

“Hard to say.”

“I’m scared, Dad!”

“Well, I’m thinking about storing up some food, putting it in barrels in the basement. We can store food, water, some basic things we might need until it’s safe to look around. If they bomb Cleveland, we have to wait in the basement until the main fallout is done.”

“Reagan sounds like Ray-Gun.”

“You’re my little hippie girl.”

“Good night, Dad. I love you.”

“Good night, Kath.”

He leant down and gave me a bristly kiss. Turned out the lights. I saw his profile blocked out in yellow light from the hall.

“Wait!”

“What? Good night, you.”

“No, tell me your favorite thing. What was your favorite thing today?”

“Oh, talking to you.”

“Do you want to know what my favorite thing is?”

“OK, what?”

“Talking to you!”

“OK. Sleep tight.”

He closed the door and left me in the subdued lighting from the fish tank. I couldn’t see the fish from the bed, but I saw the green cast by plants, the beige and black rocks at the bottom. The hum of the aerator was comforting. I had my own little controllable world in a fish bowl.

My thoughts flowed with the hum of water. What could be done about Reagan? How could I be safe, and how would my family be safe?

The basement wouldn’t be good. I just knew it. Mold grew down there. I decided I would try to dig a shelter in the backyard. We could live in the shelter for years if we could store enough food. I’d make it really big, so Mary could come, too.

I didn’t think our cats and dog would be good down there. I’d have to ask Dad.

I’d get Dad to give me some money, and we could tile the walls and floor. We could make it really nice. And I’d bring a lot of books. Dad could figure out how to make it work as long as I dug the hole. He could make electricity and plumbing.

I fell asleep into heavy dream. In the dream, we lived near a volcano. The volcano was going to erupt and I was trying to shake everyone. I shook my Mom, my Dad, but they seemed to be sleeping. The volcano erupted, and I ran down our street towards our house. I flapped my arms, and I clumsily floated a few feet off the ground. The harder I flapped, the more difficult it was to float. Then the lava came, engulfed the street, and I was way up, in the clouds, dizzy. Some type of weird miscalibration. I aimed myself down at the street, towards the rooftop of our house. My family was on the roof. I grabbed my Mom, but she was too heavy, I started sinking towards the ground. I grabbed my brother and I was able to fly away, over the spurting volcano and into a dizzy height where I again lacked control.