I cut ahead in line and went to where there were rolls. I grabbed two and looked around for Soupless Joe. Normally, I would have had qualms about cutting in lines, being impatient, but there was a social contract I felt I should uphold. If Priscilla could sacrifice her life to feed people that couldn’t remember her name, then maybe I could do something nice for a guy who just got jacked out of a bowl of soup and a roll. Unfortunately, the same twelve-year-old kid who I had stopped from stealing my bag the other day spotted me and immediately pointed at my rolls.
“Hey!” he said. “You’re stealing that.”
“Oh?” I asked, bending down to match his line of sight. “Now you’re telling me the right thing to do?”
The kid blanched at my tone. “Why would you tell me not to steal if you were going to do it?”
I took a bite of one of the rolls. “Apparently, everyone’s making up their own rules these days.”
He stared at me. “There’s not going to be enough rolls left,” he said.
“One’s for someone else,” I said. “Seriously.”
He genuinely looked sad, and immediately I felt stabs of guilt.
“Do you want the other?” I asked. “I’m sorry I took a bite.”
The kid took it, turned around and immediately tossed it to the side.
“Now we’re stealing food from children?” Destiny asked, coming up behind me. She was now accompanied by three other women, who stared me down as if I had just spent their retirement fund on nothing but soft shell tacos from Taco Bell.
Destiny put her hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Where’s your mommy?” she asked.
“Get bent!” he yelled, then stormed off.
“You guys,” I said. “I offered him the roll—”
“You took two rolls?” Destiny asked. “You must be really depressed to eat your feelings like that.”
“Ladies, I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding,” said a voice behind me.
I turned around and saw Jake.
“Thank you,” I said. “I was trying—”
“Remember what we talked about during our morning affirmation meeting?” he asked. “There are three sides to every story. Yours, mine and love.”
The women nodded in agreement. “You’re right,” Destiny said. “Girls, Jake is always right. Let’s never forget that.”
Destiny threw her arms around him. “I’m sorry. You’re so wise.”
He took my hand. “Come with me,” he said.
“Baby,” Destiny protested. “But I miss you!”
He turned and touched her lightly on the shoulder. “Give me a second.”
The girls pouted as I gave them a knowing look and took Jake’s hand. He led me outside and up the stairs to the roof.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“Just a little spot I have to get away from the madness of stuff,” he said. “Really gives you perspective to look out at the horizon.”
I looked out where he pointed. In front of me was the decimated cityscape, covered in smoggy, green haze.
“Well, that’s just depressing,” I said and shook my head.
“No,” he said, putting his hand on my shoulder. “That’s just the thing. If you really try, you can see God’s beauty in everything.”
I squinted, but I still looked at the ruins. “Ehh—maybe if there wasn’t such a bad smell. We really need plumbing back. Are there any plumbers left or were they all prone to the virus?”
He led me to a blanket already laid out. In the center was a basket of dinner rolls.
“This is very chivalrous,” I said.
“I’ve got great plans,” he said. “This is just the beginning—the way things used to be. The way they should be.”
“I don’t remember this much bread,” I said, sitting down and smiling. “But thank you. This is really nice.”
He smiled back. “Remember that time we went to the beach and you tried feeding the seagulls? They didn’t leave us alone.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s a good memory.”
That’s not actually how it went. We went to the beach as a fun day out, but he cried most of the day about an illegal cable hookup in his apartment. In hopes of distracting him from his journey into darkness I tried to salvage what was left of the day and tried to attract the birds with pieces of bread. It didn’t work.
“Just like you,” he said. “Always wanting to care for others. I’m going to miss you when you go.”
“No,” I said. “That’s really not what’s happening, but it’s okay.”
“You’re not leaving?” he asked. “Robert’s not taking you, is he?”
“He’d like me to,” I said casually. “But it’s time to work on me. You know the usual things.”
Jake drew back. “You should rethink that. Take whoever will have you and hang on to them like nobody’s business.”
“That working for you?” I asked. “Survival means just being desperate?”
He took my hand again. “This life we live now. It’s changed everything.”
“How insightful of you.”
“There’s bigger things we have to worry about. Let’s make sure people have enough to eat and let our natural human goodness rise to the top.”
“Nope,” I said. “That’s not the world I’ve seen. I watched people turn on each other over a bag of Cheetos and my boyfriend killed by cannibals. You want to save the world, then good luck, but the world doesn’t want to be saved. So there’s no point in trying.”
He withdrew his hands and looked shocked. “Um…” He paused. “Are you okay? You sound like you’ve been through a lot.”
I shook my head, trying to keep up the act. “I’m fine,” I said. “The world is too different for me to react to things the way I normally would.”
He drew back more. “You haven’t changed at all.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He sighed heavily. “You were always so nonchalant about everything,” he said. “Bad news, good news, being unemotional was your priority.”
My windpipe tightened and there was a sickening stab in my stomach.
“I have emotions,” I said. “I just keep them more protected than other people do.”
Jake shook his head.
“I bring them out for special occasions,” I said. “Kind of like fine china. It’s appreciated more.”
I reached for a roll as Jake got up and turned to face the desolate landscape.
“Destiny was right.” He sighed. “You can’t go home again.”
He walked away and left me there on the blanket. A bird flew overhead, and I stared at it, marveling how I hadn’t seen one in at least a month. I went to take a bite of the roll, but he stopped me.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
“We’re having a picnic,” I said. “Didn’t you make me a picnic?”
He shook his head, took the roll from me and put it back with the others. “This is for those poor lost souls out there,” he said. “And maybe if they see what human kindness is again, they’ll be better people and stop scaring the shit out of us.”
* * *
When I went back inside, I saw people gathered around a large bulletin board. I fought my way as close as I could to the front and saw that they were taking turns posting things on the massive board—pictures, letters, objects that were of some meaning or other.
“What are we doing?” I asked no one in particular.
“It’s a Tweet Board,” a woman’s voice snapped. “We’re tweeting! We’re having conversation again, sharing memories, looking for loved ones! Get in line if you want to. No cutting.”
“Oh,” I said. “Sorry.”
I turned to see who the voice belonged to, only to be faced with Destiny. She narrowed her eyes at me and then smirked.
I gave her an awkward smile. “Thank you,” I said. “That was very informative.”
She smirked. “Did you want to put something on the board? Something about snaking other girls’ boyfriends?”