Eclipse

The Great Eclipse

I walked along the cold, stone pavement as I tried to balance a basket of pineapples upon my head. My clothes drenched in sweat and rain. I plucked at the thin, soaked fabric that was sticking to my chest. “Only a few more minutes,” I tried to remind myself.

I was the descendant of a long lineage of fruit pickers in Charleston Town that lived in a small community with only a population of 1,227 called Andro.

It had been my job for the past decade to gather fruit from the local farmers and distribute it among the small shops that lined the vibrant town.

I loved living here. The scenery was breathtaking. Plants grew from cracks in the sidewalks, vines that climbed to the roof of the most vintage buildings. Birds, and chimes that sang throughout the day. Surrounded by mother nature; it was hard not to get lost in the beauty of it all.

I stood, spinning on my heels, looking around the town that was glistening with morning dew. A sigh left me as I pulled my gaze away from the town and rested it on the building ahead, and a thought crossed my mind.

While Charleston Town was beautiful, the people within its walls were most deceitful. Recently more and more people were rebelling against the government. No longer wanting to work when there was no payment guaranteed.

You see, Charleston Town’s government is like no other. While democratic, money was absent, it held no value. Instead, we shared and traded with each other, that was until five months ago. A man by the name of Jim Ferdock broke this order. Too greedy for his own good. Even the teachings every child receives through their developmental years couldn’t sway him from his inevitable future... his inevitable evil. His decision to not work broke our order.

The community is dependent on one another. When one person falls out of line everyone suffers. This is exactly what occurred, and others followed. The reason why they would want to was unbeknownst to me.

One person refusing to work led to another, and our economy began to crash like dominoes.

One headline at a time.

I thought for a split second, “what if?” What if I refused to work? It was a crude thought. My mother would scowl me for even thinking it, but the question still stands. Was the beauty of Charleston Town distracting us from its unstable government that would crumble like the dominoes it was built upon? Yes, and we were now paying the price. “How unlucky am I to be born in this period?” I said out loud. Was I that unlucky though? Has there always been a rebellion? It would make sense why the government would cover it up. Those types of behaviors were forbidden and thereby never spoken of.

“Huh,” I remarked, dazzled as I approached the entrance to one of many Charleston Town’s shops. It looked newer than the surrounding buildings, out of place.

The shop was crafted from wood and old brick. The name of the shop carved into a huge piece of driftwood that hinted at what lye inside. As I opened the door a bell chimed, and a slim man looked up from a desk. His eyes resting on mine. “Hello there,” he beamed, a friendly smile spreading across his tan face. “Sorry I’m late, I had to take a different route to avoid the mud, wouldn’t want to drop these,” I said looking up to gesture towards the basket of pineapples on my head.

“Ah, yes, let me help you with those,” the man said. He walked around the counter dodging through a series of stringed beads that hung from the ceiling. The shop appeared to sell “beachy” things. The walls were lined with surfboards and swim trunks. Racks of name tags engraved on sea turtles and other ocean animals filled the store.

As the man approached I lifted the basket off of my head and placed it in his hands. The man swiftly took the basket and headed towards a door labeled, “Employees Only Please!” I stood awkwardly waiting for the man to arrive, and once he did I shook his hand and we exchanged names.

“I’m Mike,” I said, releasing my grip.

“And I’m Dan, pleasure to meet you,” he retorted. Placing his hands in his pockets as he shifted his weight back comfortably.

“Well I best be going,” I announced reaching up routinely to tip my hat, but then awkwardly placing it by my side after finding nothing there. I turned around to leave, but before I did I grabbed a sunhat from the wall, and a leather satchel I thought suited me.

Walking out of the door I squinted my eyes as they adjusted to the sunlight that wasn’t there when I first entered the shop. I reached into my pocket, producing a notepad and a pen. I flipped past a few pages before landing on May 11, 1927. I looked down the list of tasks and ticked off the checkbox next to Salt and Sand.

Taking a deep breath I placed the strap of the satchel around my shoulder, taking note of its new leathery smell.

Now being able to move freely without being weighed down by a basket of pineapples I briskly moved through the empty streets. Strange I thought, squinting my eyebrows in curiosity, usually, it’s quite busy, but I tried not to think too hard about it.

Once I passed through an alleyway, dodging under vines, and rusty pipes, my sandals becoming soaked in water and grime. I saw an old, familiar, yellow bike. My face beamed happily as I hopped on, running my thumb over the torn leather on the handlebars, before shifting my weight onto one side, and I began pedaling down the wet streets. Spraying water in all directions.

My euphoria soon came to a stop though as I passed by a young man holding up a sign stating, “They are coming, do not fret, we will soon be saved!” I pressed on my brakes, staring at the man for a moment longer before regaining focus on the road ahead.

Is that why everyone’s staying inside? Is someone coming?

I whirled through my memory trying to gather any information that could cure my ever-growing discomfort. My thoughts though were answered as everything around me turned ten shades darker. I nearly crashed into a streetlamp as my scenery suddenly changed. Everything was chillingly dark.

I unfastened the string on my sunhat and looked up to find a massive saucer blocking out the sun. My bike tipped over as I began to lose focus on everything around me.

I hit my head on the stone pavement with tremendous force. My hands wrapped around my ears trying to mask the screaming sound the was now thundering in the walls of my eardrum. I opened my mouth trying to scream in agony, but soon everything turned black, my last memory was of the poor man with the sign. His eyes rolling into the back of his tilted head as he seemingly let out a dying breath...

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Wrote this for an English essay, and I will probably continue it. I'm not sure what else to write, so if anyone has any story suggestions below with a plot and everything I will write it... if I like it that is. PLEASE if I make any grammar mistakes TELL Me. It's something I really want to improve upon.

Thanks, and have a wonderful Thanksgiving!