You’re Next

The mother

     Max changed out of the wet hurricane clothes. Walking on stage, microphone in hand, he screwed on a smile. “Welcome back folks.” 

     Travis was still lying in his glass box. The mother had been given a chair.

     Max hung his head. “As a result of yesterday’s heat, two people have died.” 

     The mother placed her hands over her face.

Max flinched as the smell hit him. Becky walked on stage wearing a white nurses uniform. The glass prison was gone. As she bent over to examine Travis, a muffled gag escaped her. Through pursed lips, she reported that he was still alive. 

     “Mother,” Max called to her. “You must spin again.”

     She stood as straight as she could, took a firm grip on the wheel, spinning with all her might. Again, she fell backwards. Max rush to her, cradling her in his arms as the wheel crawled to a stop. 

Click, hurricane. 

Click, heat wave. 

Click, partly cloudy and mild.

     “Partly cloudy and mild,” Max smiled, patting her arm as he helped her to stand. 

Camera 3: If you weren’t present at this moment, you were one of the oldies that couldn’t get out of your house. 

     Travis was standing in a circle. He seemed to have recovered some of his strength. People had gathered all around him. A whistle blew, citizens started hurling rocks at him. He stood tall, for about ten rocks. He covered his head screaming, “the old lady spun the heat wave. She did it.” He screamed.

      Max was standing in the back of the group. Rolling the smooth stone over and over in his right hand. ‘How many people had this stone killed’? Max thought. Something hit him so hard on the left shoulder, that he stumbled forward a step and dropped his rock. 

     Upon turning, he found a woman with dark circles under her eyes, she was a mess; holding a baby. Mockingly she said, “no one died.” She went back to her normal voice. “No. But plenty of us hard working honest folks lost everything we had thanks to Hurricane Max. You bastard!”

     In a breathless whisper he pleaded, “it wasn’t my fault.”