He lay in bed and he watched the sun
Beam in through the double glaze,
The leafless treetops, withered and bent
In an unforgiving haze,
His wife lay sleeping, innocent
In a dream of former times,
As the clock downstairs in the hallway gave
The last of thirteen chimes.
He slipped on down to the basement, tried
To leave his wife in grace,
Took heart, looked over his shoulder just
To see her peaceful face,
Then carefully donned the gamma suit
That they’d issued with the hood,
And slipped on out through the airlock to
Assess the neighbourhood.
The visibility through the haze
Was down to fifty feet,
The yards were blackened and burned of
Every house along the street,
He checked each one with an open door
Where the occupants had fled,
But every now and again he’d find
They’d not be gone, but dead.
He’d make a note of the time of day
Of the house, its street address,
And note if any had decomposed
So the squad could clean the mess,
His friends peered out from their windows
Watched and mouthed their mute dismay,
While he would hold up a sign to them,
‘You can’t go out today!’
It took him an hour to check each block
That he’d got from Air Defence,
He’d watch the flickering LED
And would note the roentgens,
The cloud had covered the neighbourhood
But would move along, they said,
The dust-storm muted the morning sun
And at night, the sky was red.
The Homeland Squad would deliver food
To the ones without supplies,
Would drop their cases of powdered milk
To stem the babies cries,
While Gordon Hay would complete his day,
Rush back to his lady, Sky,
Wash off the hood and the gamma suit
And hang it on up to dry.
She’d dressed and put on her make-up
Added a touch of rouge to her cheeks,
And said, ‘I’m going to pop right out,
I haven’t been out for weeks.
I need to go to the supermart,
And visit the folks on the way,’
Then waited for Gordon to shake his head,
‘You can’t go out today!’
‘I’m sick of hearing you saying that,’
She stamped, and she burst in tears,
‘How long do you think you can keep me in,
This might go on for years!
You go out there in your funny suit
And there’s nothing wrong with you,
While I’m stuck here with our baby girl,
I want to go walking, too.’
She waited until he was fast asleep
And the baby fed and dried,
Then quietly opened the airlock, took
A breath, and she walked outside,
The dust was thick and the air was hot
And her skin began to burn,
She thought she’d better buy sunscreen
At the shop, on her return.
The supermarket was boarded up,
And so were the local shops,
She didn’t see anyone on the street
Not even the local cops,
Her folks refused to answer the door
Her friends had waved her away,
And Gordon’s words had hung in the air,
‘You can’t go out today!’
She turned, went back to her home, and found
The airlock had been barred,
She beat in vain on the window pane
But her husband’s words were hard,
He saw the blisters, over her face
And the pustules on her skin,
His tears were based on her lack of grace
As he said, ‘You can’t come in!’
‘I have to protect our baby girl
And I’ll do whatever it takes,
I love you Sky, but you’re going to die,
We pay for our own mistakes.
You always were too stubborn for me
And you had to have your way.’
She cried in dread at the words he’d said:
‘You can’t go out today!’
David Lewis Paget
