No One Is Coming to Save Us

Sylvia held the phone. She would not hang up, that felt cruel.

“Mrs. Sylvia, are you there.”

Sylvia said nothing. She hoped her silence was less hurtful than hanging up the phone. If she hurt along with him, maybe he wouldn’t judge her so harshly. Maybe one day he would understand. Nobody ever understands.

“Mrs. Sylvia? Sylvia?” Marcus held the phone and waited for Sylvia’s reply. “I just need you to answer, Sylvia. Please.”

Sylvia listened to his breathing on the line. She used to listen to Don this way when they loved each other. Both of them hanging on to the phone, content to know the other was alive. Not when they loved each other, that was wrong. When she believed that he loved her.

“Okay, Sylvia. I’m sorry about Devon. I’m really sorry. Sylvia? Okay. I get it. I get it. I’ll call you some other time. I can wait. I’ll call you. Is that okay?”

Sylvia did not answer.

“Sylvia, please,” Marcus said, but Sylvia could hear the resignation in his voice.

“You did good by me, Sylvia when nobody else did. I appreciate you. You’ll never know how much. Okay? Okay? I mean that.”





34


Ava had been sitting on the sand for too long, her behind and legs stiff with inaction. “Help me up, Jay,” she said and reached her arm out to him. In all the books Ava had loved as a girl the plucky heroine and her friends had a special, secret place, known only to them. Ava had decided back then that theirs would be the fourth exit at the reservoir. Jay pulled Ava to him and tried to envelop her in his arms. She gently moved out of his grip.

It was unbelievably still the month of May, and the light though fading still shone too brightly on them. There were no other people on the man-made beach area yet in the middle of the week. But soon when the real heat arrived families would line the shore with sand toys and buckets of Kentucky Fried Chicken. Big and small boats would float or buzz through the muddy water creating the shallow waves that lapped up on the shore. The reservoir wasn’t an ocean and didn’t give you the feeling of the infinite, the miraculous sight of water that could rise up like a wall and swallow you up without compunction or remorse. But who needed the brine of the ocean, the constant reminder that whatever the end was you would never see it for yourself, when the bathwater of the reservoir was a few minutes from your door? Ava listened for the violent, recurrent snap of the flag she kept hearing but had not spotted to reset her thoughts.

“We used to think about having a house up here. Remember that? We were going to live on the water,” Jay said.

“Yours is better than all the ones we picked. Isn’t that amazing?”

“I never really liked it here,” he said and looked around at the landscape as if he were confirming his original idea.

Ava stared at Jay, not sure what to think, “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I knew you liked it. It’s pretty, baby. I just never got it like you do. I want to take you to a desert. Have you been?” Jay had crossed into California for the first time years ago into the town of Needles and the Mojave Desert. He was not prepared for the rush of feeling he experienced seeing the starkness of the moonscape, the many shades of red and brown in the rocks and mountains. Generations of travelers looking for a new start or just a chance had passed through that town. That idea gave him hope. Years ago he’d gone there to get a message from his mother. He knew it couldn’t be true, he was not insane, but he couldn’t shake the idea that with the arrival of Hale-Bopp he would see her too. He did not know where to look in the sky for the comet to appear, but he waited for as long as he could. An idea can come to you with such force that it can stick, get stuck, get you stuck. That night standing outside his truck, he searched the sky, leaned against his truck, then behind the wheel, until he thought he would be too worn-out to drive to his rented room, if he didn’t get going. A few times he thought he saw a smear of a star in his periphery, but he couldn’t be sure. You can see in the natural movement of the universe a sign, a message, maybe even salvation. He did not see the comet that night, and months later when it was in its glory and millions of people watched for it nightly he looked along with them, but the message from his mother did not come.

Ava felt like laughing and crying at the same time. “Did I ever ask you if you wanted to be here? I probably didn’t. I’m sorry. I thought this was our place.”

“It is, Ava. It is.” Jay spoke too quickly to try to reassure her, but he knew he did just the opposite.

“You were too nice for a teenage boy, Jay.”

“I was just too stupid.”

Ava had thought he was probably just too sad.

“Do you feel lucky?” Ava said.

Jay shook his head.

“Lana told me I was lucky. Do you feel it, Jay? I mean for the most part.”

“No, Ava, I really don’t.” Jay shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Probably not. Luckier than some. I’m still here.”

“You know why you feel that way?” Ava said as she stared at him. “Because you had too much hurt too early. That’s the reason. I don’t feel lucky either, but I should. I’ve had a lot go right.” Ava pressed her toe into the spongy sand and watched the water rush to fill the hole.

“We should go, Ava. Let’s get away from here.”

“Not yet, Jay.” Ava smiled and tipped her head up at him. The sight of her false cheer made Jay nervous. If he had not been sure that she was close to screaming he would have thought she was flirting with him.

“Ava, baby,” Jay began. “I don’t feel right here. We’ve got to get out of memory lane sometime.”

“Do you even listen to yourself? Memory lane is all we’ve got. Isn’t that why you’re even here?”

Stephanie Powell Watts's books