A-Void by Babak Govan (phonics readers txt) 📕

Willie, M_____’s box, and the mynah bird, I hike to a bluff beneath a row of houses. A horde of houseflies circles a purse lying beside a fermenting grocery bag. I snatch a few dollars from the wallet and a GREATCO employee badge.

Among the broken-down trailers and blown-up cars, there is no sign of human activity. A horse plays in a dry field. We continue.

I select one of the looted houses because there is a Honda-Toyota-Chrysler minivan parked in the driveway. I scan the Organelle v.463.2’s flashlight over the excavated entry that I follow to the backyard, where I find a decaying pool.

I see Kayla again, drunk, swimming over an underwater light that transforms her earrings into stars, the flowers from her hair floating away behind her. She pulls herself halfway over the edge, her dress sticking to her body.

“If I were a mermaid, would you dive in and stay with me forever?” She brushes away her hair and before it returns to her like kelp in slow tide, she motions to me to follow.

In the great room, from beside a mug with a withered teabag inside, I pick up a very old copy of The Expert’s Guide to Leaving the Union and Living in New Jamestown. From within the book’s pages, the school photo of a little girl drops on my boot.

My beard can now catch the tears that squeeze out of my chest as I press the photo and explore the little girl’s room. I turn over the Virtual Family Dinner conferencing unit on her dresser and lay down on the floor beside her bed. I search the clouds painted on her ceiling.

At Ella’s picnic, Jasmine knelt down and introduced Isabella to Kayla’s niece and nephew. I imagined them being Kayla’s children—ours. Her nephew lost his grip on his balloon. His lips quivered. I pointed up, explaining that his balloon would become a star. I wish I had taught Isabella that she must dream of fairy tales.

TIME 2

I pulled and released the slingshot, with Isabella’s fingers perched over mine. My side ached where Dragon had kicked me, but I tried not to let Isabella know.

“Did I shoot it right?”

“You did great! Now go over there and practice shooting into the bushes, but be careful not to aim it at anyone.”

Jasmine grabbed my arm. “We’ll be right back, sweetheart.” She pulled me toward our tent. “Billy, I’m scared about you leaving us.” Tears puddle in her eyes.

I leaned back and peered out of the tent.

TIME 1

OUTSIDE GRANTS, NM

4:11 PM

I turn to grab the picture sliding off my chest and freeze at the silhouette of a horse’s head in the neighboring house. I brush away the sheer curtains and call to Cleveland, who slides in across the wooden floor.

Still no one. I cautiously explore. It is a stick pony with a zebra head, and I secure it between Steamboat Willie and the mynah bird.

“Here we go, Zebra.”

We arrive to observe Albuquerque’s death. I park outside a vacated gas station and let Cleveland out to stretch. I inspect myself for signs of infection in the warped mirror in the bathroom. Everything is clear but my eyes look older.

After he has inspected the perimeter, I throw Cleveland a red apple and he licks off the ash peppering it. I wash down my own apple with vodka and lean back to admire the smoke rising in every direction.

An urge to check my Organelle v463.2 overtakes me. As I reach into the car to check in, the mynah bird startles me, repeating, “Feed me more. Feed me more.” It’s refreshing to hear talking and I hope he continues. I bite into an apple and squeeze chunks of it through the cage.

With no luck locating a signal, and sundown nearing, I park the car in a field of orange grass near town. Cleveland runs through it ahead of me and I assume he knows that I am drunk.

He sniffs about the bottom of a rooted, rusted pitchfork and leaps backward into the grass with a sandy rabbit in his clench, thumping against his muzzle. He drops it abruptly and comes to sit beside me on the grass, from where we watch it move its head for the last time. I think about eating it, but I’m not up to doing that yet. I look up at the first star and wonder its age.

I stop the car beside a sign notifying us that Amarillo is the next town. From there, The Colony is about 400 miles away.

TIME 2

I peered outside again. The others were still being introduced to their tents, and someone was walking toward our tent.

“Hi, I know it’s your little girl’s birthday tomorrow.” She peeked through our tent flap. “This is Sammy,” the woman said as she reached behind her. The boy waved before hiding his face against her knee. “And I’m Rebecca, but you probably knew our names already.”

“These Organelles leave nothing to be discovered, right?” Jasmine said. “Maybe we could turn them off and actually have something to talk about.”

“I agree. We already know what everyone’s been up to,” she said.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m Jasmine and this is Billy. It is almost our daughter’s birthday.” Isabella was standing shyly next to the bushes, and Jasmine motioned her over. “This is Isabella. She’s going to be five.”

“I baked tons of cookies for our trip. I’d love to gather up the kids and have a little celebration.”

“Oh, wonderful, thank you! Wouldn’t that be great, Isabella?”

Isabella nodded.

“Okay! Maybe we can chat at dinner,” Rebecca said.

“Yes, that’s perfect. See you later.”

Jasmine pulled the tent flap shut, and turned into me, crying.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t believe she noticed. Remember last year? Everyone was too busy to come to her birthday, or arrived late and left early. And remember how everyone was disappointed we didn’t have a photographer, videographer, catering, carnival rides, a petting zoo, or character actors?”

“Yeah, but,” I whispered hesitantly, “I forgot it’s her birthday. Why didn’t my Organelle v451.9 remind me?”

TIME 1

AMARILLO, TX

6:46 AM

Rainfall