The Seagull

The next time he saw a seagull was when he was walking alone ahead of everyone else. His mother had told him that he should never walk alone in case something happened. It didn’t take him long to decide to go off on his own. As he was walking through a clearing, a bird flew just over his head and landed about thirty feet from where he was standing. There was nothing unordinary about it except that it limped when it hopped. His eyes focused as though he was looking through a sight of a gun. He was initially confused by it. His mother told him that once everything changed all the animals had died. The boy didn’t believe that. He once believed that his father was the strongest man in the world, but that changed too.

He remembered the day the sun turned. It became dark, hidden behind a veil of shadowy fog. Its dark maroon color changed the way everything looked. He asked his mom about the sun and when it would get better. She told him that when it was yellow again, everything would be okay again. He believed her. He woke up to a world covered in darkness. His family had left early in the morning and by the afternoon; the boy had become an only child. The sounds of confusion and distress kept him from shutting his eyes that night. Terrorists, monsters, aliens, they didn’t know what has happening. The boy was scared of monsters. He thought there was one under his bed when he was littler. At least then he could hide from it under his covers. He wished he had brought them with him. He woke the next morning to the sky exploding in a blast of color and light. The bright orange color was hypnotic. No one could resist sending their eyes to the sky. To the boy, it looked like a soul on its way to heaven. It wasn’t just one soul; it was millions. He wondered if there were there any little boys like him.

His father was hurt by the time they started walking out of the city. The boy couldn’t tell what hurt him. He just seemed hurt. They carried him as long as they could. It only took a couple of hours before they had to stop, the father losing every ounce of energy he had. They spent a day on the side of the road trying to keep him awake. The next morning, the boy and his mother woke up, but the father didn’t. The boy cried for days; he thought fathers were supposed to protect their sons. His never got around to it. By the afternoon, they had found another group of travelers. The boy started to miss home. He missed his bed, his room, and every little trinket inside it. He often wondered if he would see it again. He wished he could hide under his covers.

They spent the next few days wandering around looking for food. They made their way through a town on the east side of a mountain range. It wasn’t a big town, one of those former small American communities cherished in the past. They walked down Main Street but didn’t find anyone. They stumbled into a general store by midday. A few started to eat anything that was in their path. The boy and his mother only ate canned goods. A few people followed their example; it was apparent that they all had seen the same movies

For the next few weeks they made their way through the mountains. By now there were only eight. Four didn’t wake up the morning after they left the farming town. The boy’s mother told him that he food made them sick. He didn’t know why food would make people sick. At night they would set up tents that they borrowed from the general store. They all agreed to make their way through the mountains. On the other side was the ocean. At least, they hoped it was the ocean.

It took two days to make it out of the mountains and by the time they did, there were only five of them left. There was a man and his wife and their young daughter. They didn’t speak much English so they often just followed the boy and his mother without question. They found another group a few days later. The boy was glad to find other people because he found another little boy who he could play with. There were fifty or sixty people huddled together near the side of the river. They were diverse: the old, the young, even a newborn baby girl. The woman of the baby would sometimes let the boy watch the baby girl when she had to help the group. He liked the baby girl and she liked him.

The boy would often get firewood for the group and when one time he found his mother holding a gun down her throat. His hands trembled uncontrollably as he pictured his mother aiming the gun at a flying bird. She would pull the trigger and the bird would spiral to the ground. The sound of the gun being loaded shook him. When he finally wrestled the weapon from her, he ran out of the tent and threw the gun into a nearby river. It’s silver color reflection caught his eyes as it struck the bottom. No one would find it there. He didn’t know where she got the gun from, but it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t see it again. He returned to the tent to find his mother curled up in the corner. She didn’t acknowledge him so walked over to her and nestled up next to her shivering body. He felt the soft drip of tear fall on his face. He put his arms around her and they both drifted off to sleep.

It was near a grassy hill that the group found a wandering old man. He had a long beard and narrow, piercing eyes. He smelled of ash and rotten food. It was clear that he had been alone for a very long time. He said he was preacher that had come from God to rescue everyone. The boy would watch from far off, as the rest of the group would listen like little sheep. Afterwards, they would praise him with food and drink. The boy never offered his meals.

The man would preach of sinning and repentance. The boy would listen, barely able to understand the words that the old man was using. His voice would boom from the top of the hill, his words echoing far beyond the ears of the weary listeners. A few people turned away from the man and his preaching. The rest would take everything he said as if it was sent down from heaven.

It was after the fifth night of listening to the preacher that the boy went to his mother. “Mom, the man says that God did this and that he is punishing us,” he said, his mother listening.