A can of beans. That's all there ever is. A can of beans.
"It looks great honey." lied Tobby through his teeth. He knew it wasn’t the fault of his wife that this was all she could prepare, there was literally nothing else. Although beans have become the stuff of nightmares to him, he still ate. He couldn’t leave his darling wife alone.
"I.AM.GLAD." she said, moving to the kitchen to wash the dishes. She methodically picked up a plate after plate, washing them with soap and putting them to dry. She was a darling of a woman.
Their place was clean, she made sure of that. Whenever Tobby spent the energy to look about from his sofa, she was always diligently cleaning. He told her to and she was very diligent.
Tobby, on the other hand, had not taken a shower for at least two months. His sofa was always wet and his clothes were sticking to him like a band-aid. He smelt of sweat and piss, but the scent of lemon from cleaning products made it bearable. He paid no mind to his hygiene, thankfully, neither did she. There were worse things than being a little smelly.
"CLEAN?" pointed his wife to the pristine glass vases collection. For some reason, she loved those especially. She took her sweet time cleaning them.
"I won't stop you, but it'll be great if you wait until I am asleep if you don’t mind." Then he just put his favorite sports game on.
"SURE.THING." she exclaimed as she hurried to another of her chores. Her white apron swaying behind her.
The room was dimly lit, with no natural light, that much would be expected from a bunker obviously, but he thought, he'd miss it. Surprisingly he did not miss anything, all he cared about was here.
He stood up from the sofa, with a squelch the leather detached from his thigh. He walked over to the kitchen, where his lovely wife was just cleaning the walls. He came up behind her and gave her a gentle hug. His thick arms connected around her cold angular body. Her long blonde hair smelt off lemon too.
"OH.YOU.SUPRISED.ME.HA.HA.HA." she laughed. He remembered that he married his wife for her laugh. Oh, how it brightens the room.
"That’s me, ever the prankster." He said and as he retracted his hands, his wife's hair fell to the floor. She was nervous about her having to wear wigs, as she had no hair on her own. So, he quietly grabbed the wig and placed it back on his wife, so she wouldn’t notice.
"You know I love you, right?" he whispered quietly, his voice quivering.
"OF.COURSE.I.DO.TOO." she said. Although her words were reassuring, Tobby felt none the better.
"I am thinking of going to the garden…" he let his words hang. It was a big decision and he pondered what course of action he should take, but he finally arrived to this one. He got to the safedoors and started opening one of the many locks.
"DO.NOT!YOU.WILL.NOT.BE.SAFE.I.DONT.WANT.TO.YOU.TO.BE.HURT."
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She was right, how could he leave her? She was his wife after all. He could never do something to his family, to the people…to the one he loved most. He turned back around moved away from the door. She made a happy sound and got back to work.
"I.WILL.MAKE.YOU.YOUR.FAVORITE." she said.
"Thank you, I will eat it tomorrow." He had been too tired from the day. Honestly, he had been tired ever since locking himself inside the bunker. It was so long ago that he forgot what was outside. He knew that grass was green and sky was blue of course. He knew what trees were, he knew birds and puppies and all kinds of different animals. But what it felt like…what did a gust of wind feel like on the skin? What was it like to bury your toes in soil? What was it like to run?
He did not want to leave her, but looking outside was something he must do. He needs to do. So he can live merrily on. Not a worry in his mind.
As his wife was making something out of the beans, Tobby slowly creeped behind her and got to the door.
He opened the other locks, activating the lever mechanism that slid the door to his side.
He steadied his breath, prepared for anything that might come. He looked outside and…was looking onto a street. A street? He had his ranch here, he was sure of that. Before the bloody war, he had a ranch. His children…some children were playing on swings close to the bunker.
But here there was just grime and gray. Some liquid was dropping from the stone walls and green lights lit the narrow street. This wasn’t the world he hid from, this was something different altogether. He still walked out onto the street, looking in different directions. In his surprised stupor, he didn’t notice the pack of teens walking his way.
"What are you goggling at?" the boy out of the group asked. Now that he noticed them, he was even more surprised. They wore half-torn clothes, big heavy iron-laden boots and many colors probably sprayed on their bodies. One of the two girls had long neon blue hair and the other was bald, only little iron spikes replacing any hair. The boy in front had a fairly normal haircut, but parts of his face were replaced with metal, with lights and other parts.
"You lost again old man?" the boy mocked. The girls laughing at his jokes.
This was all too much, Tobby couldn’t muster a single word. His one hope that the world was alright. That if he just waited long enough before he opened those doors, the world would be making sense again. This hope was crushed and it destroyed all that Tobby still had with-in him.
"Ay! Still deaf? You enjoy a little beating, huh?" shouted the boy. But Tobby paid him no mind. His inner turmoil consumed all his thoughts, numbing him to all of his senses.
He did not feel the group pushing him to the ground, nor the weight of their boots as they kicked him. He did not notice as they tried to rob him, finding nothing. The wet splashed of the boy spitting at him. He did not stand up when they left, did not realize how long he was lying there.
"HONEY.WHAT.HAPPENED." his wife called from behind him, moving to his rescue. "ARE.YOU.ALRIGHT?"
His wife…no. The robot that he made to remind him of her. That was all that it was. An unfeeling machine, that was there for him to forget that he left his one true love outside, when he feared the bombs would come. A machine for his sanity. A machine that was taking him back to his bunker. The place he'd built to save his family. The place where he locked himself alone. Leaving his family outside. The place where he spent a god knows how long, lamenting.
"I.AM.DOING.THIS.FOR.YOU.HONEY." The machine put something in his mouth. He wanted to spit it out, he fought, but the machine overpowered him. Making him swallow.
The machine…no, not a machine. His wife. His wife came to rescue him. She will take him back to the bunker, where they will live together happily. She will cook and clean as a wife ought to do. What was he thinking about?
She closed the doors. Seated him to his wet sofa and put on his favorite game. Then she made him beans.