Prep the Unexpected

Prep the Unexpected

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

They were calling it the storm of the century, a once in a hundred year event. Nigel was pretty sure he had heard many storms called that before, this century and last. Still though, he was sure he could always stand to do a little more shopping.

Nigel was no prepper, but he did enjoy the occasional prepper video on YouTube. He had done some shopping. It only made sense. He had probably bought too much – the outdoor gear he’d never use, the tools he wasn’t trained to use, seeds he couldn’t plant, but there were also the other things that made him feel safe, the flashlights and candles, the bottles of water, the stacks of MRE rations. He would never need to survive on his own for a month, but maybe he could. In reality, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to last long in some sort of Mad Max dystopia, but why let reality stop him from buying too much? Plus he could always use more canned goods and a snack or two.

So off to the stores he went. There was a camping goods store next door to a bulk food wholesaler. If he needed water purification or a tent or a solar panel cellphone charger they’d have it. Never mind that dark rain clouds were supposedly on their way.

Nigel could smell the rain when he got out of his car. God damn he loved that smell; those lovely minerals and compounds and whatever else it was that shifted with the coming rain to make that smell. It was one of the best aromas on earth, perhaps followed closely by leaves in autumn and the crisp scent of a nearby bonfire. That meant the rain was real, or at least the moisture in the air. But a storm? The storm? Of that, he wasn’t so sure. Yes, there were a few new clouds in the sky, but it was mostly clear. There had been light drizzling over the past several days. His sinuses confirmed that the barometric pressure had indeed changed. All the signs were there, just not the rain clouds. And without those clouds, then what was all the fuss about?

And then Nigel noticed the change in the sky. The colors were off. He had never seen such colors. Beyond paintings. Beyond his imagination. The sky was wrong. Light came from nowhere, swirled and bent. Clouds would shimmer and transform. He couldn’t keep up with it. His mind couldn’t focus.

In an instant his body felt wrong, light, elevated. He couldn’t feel his foot on the ground. He was almost bouncing instead of walking. The closest thing he could compare it to was floating in water. But Nigel couldn’t relax. He couldn’t get his bearings. Everything was off.

His body rose higher. He was no longer bouncing, he was floating. He looked down and could see his feet were off the ground. An inch. Maybe more. But there was no gravitational pull to bring him back down.

Nigel feared for his life. Would he float higher? Away? His car was out of reach. There was nothing for him to grab onto to pull himself back down. He looked around the parking lot but didn’t see anyone. He stared into the sky and only saw the abyss. He didn’t want to die, but he had no control, no means to implement even if he could conceive of a plan. Nothing, there was nothing he could do. Nothing that could be done. Nothing that he could have prepared for. Rain and a once in a year storm meant nothing anymore. How could he foresee this once in an impossible situation?

Nigel closed his eyes, resigned, ready to float away. He would die. He made his peace with it.

Then he felt the splatter of raindrops on his eyelids. The storm had begun.

Nigel opened his eyes. Feet on the ground. Rain pouring. He was soaking wet. Nigel didn’t know what to make of what happened. He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t sure he’d ever know what to do again. How could he? How could he prepare when he couldn’t predict. There was no such thing as cause or reason. He head hurt. He wanted to cry. He had to get out of the rain, but he wanted to stay just a little bit longer, to feel reality and to feel as if something were real and reasonable. Nigel wept, unsure how to move forward and live again.