Jet Pack Blues - A LyricalStory Novella

Part 2: Baby...

I weep.

If only she knew.

Thud, splash, thud thud.

If only...

I stare up - high above me, cracked plastic and glass lines the walls of buildings, like a big window with nothing on the other side. Cars and trucks are either abandoned or house many people, no longer among the living. Perhaps, I'm not among the living either. Maybe my fate has decided me to come here. Stay here, eternally. Eternal torture.

"Oh I got those jet pack blues," I sing, louder this time. I look up and notice something burning, but glittering like silver. A... crystal ball?

I'm in Times Square. Times Square, when there are no people, no life or colors. Nothing.

I only wear a jacket, shirt, jeans, boots and socks, and I shiver, although it is far from cold. Rather I feel like all of these poor people are looking at me with lifeless eyes. Staring endlessly. I turn away and head towards 1st Street.

Back to her. Maybe what remains of her.

My feet tread the ground carefully, stepping over any unsavoury things with tears streaking my dirty lying face.

I brush my blonde curls out of my face.

I close my eyes as I near the door, my hand on the doorknob. I remember baby...

"Jack, come home!" I read in big bold letters. Judy had sent another letter. Another day... another excuse. Curses.

"Harris, report to Higgins, immediately!" General Tollen shouted at me. I wiped off my lab coat that bore the lab's insignia and shot off like an arrow down the hall to the lab where Higgins worked. Him being the head scientist, of COURSE he had to have the room farthest from the Mess Hall.

I barged into the room, and Higgins smiled quickly at me.

"Good evening, Harris! Got a letter from Judy I see!" Higgins said in a fake way. He leaned in to me and hissed, "hope you haven't been letting any secrets loose, I presume...?" I nodded, then shook my head.

"No sir, I mean... no sir, I have not."

"Splendid then! I have something to tell you... something, I - I fear is very important and dangerous."

No, I should have said to myself. No. Don't.

"What is it, Higgins, sir?" I asked.

She's in a long black coat tonight, waiting for me in the downpour outside...

"The Russians, we fear, are planning on..."

Stop. Stop this.

"-making a bomb. An ATOMIC bomb, to be precise."

STOP IT. SHUT UP. PAST LEAVE ME ALONE.

"I. I see sir. What do you propose we do about it?"

"What would you do if I told you..."