Many moons ago, when my parents would come and visit me at university the first time around, they would refuse to use the bathroom in my student house citing how unhygienic it was (student bathroom? Dirty? No!) This little story was inspired by their distaste for all things student…

For my Parents

Martha ignored the looks and tuts as she pushed through the crowd to reach her friend Carrie who was near the front.

‘What have they got for us today Carrie?’ She asked trying to peer over the head of Carrie’s husband.

‘Just Brown today I’m afraid although there was a little bit of Green earlier but that went quick as usual’

Martha sighed. As they inched forward to get their rations from the official at the Rim she pondered over what a struggle life was. She mindlessly thought about how futile things were and how repetitive their days seemed. Every day was the same. Wake up, wave off Richard as he went to work at the Steel Bridge and then walk to the Rim to try and pick up some food for the evening; all the while grieving for her lost children and all of this under the constant threat of Chemical Rain.

Chemical Rain – one of the many blights that made life so difficult. Everyone knew the drill; they got taught it from the first day at school – it was mandatory. The Chemical Rain could strike at any moment but there were clues you could look at for that it was going to happen. It was usually heralded by the sound of clattering in the sky and then the world above would turn either yellow, black or blue depending on the strength of the Chemical and then it would arrive: great drops of foul smelling thick liquid that killed everything and anything in its path. All of them knew that at the first sound of clatter they had to disperse and take cover – usually the Steel Bridge was the safest place but on that day Martha had left her kids at home while she went out to get the day’s ration and hadn’t been able to get back in time when the clatter came. It had been a horrible decision to make; risk going back and taking the kids and almost certainly dying with them or leave them to their fate and head to the Bridge. So she had made her mind up and headed to where her husband, friends and neighbours were gathering on the shiny platform that overlooked the Rim. She could always have more kids. She knew it sounded callous but she also knew she wasn’t alone in having had to make that decision – there wasn’t a soul in their community who didn’t know somebody who had not had to make the same decision she had had to and so she wasn’t vilified for it…she just had to deal with her gnawing sense of guilt.

Pushing these thoughts to the back of her mind, Martha arrived at the edge of the Rim. As always she was struck by the sheer size and beauty of it. Even though the official was talking to her as he arranged for her rations to be handed out, she had half an eye on the landscape that engulfed his tiny frame. Hundreds of feet of white dropped down to the cavern below to where the Central Lake lay still. It looked cloudy today and there were marks of grey and black starting to speckle the bottom. The community had long ago worked out that the murkier the water was the more chance there would be of Chemical Rain. Every day there were regular clouds and thunder that deposited food into the lake and this was always followed by the waterfall. The waterfall was spectacular. Thousands of cubic metres of water rushing from the cave just from beneath the Rim. It made a tremendous noise but the spray also gave the children something fun to frolic in whilst young lovers would stop and hold each other admiring the size and ferociousness of the foaming water as it gushed into the Lake. And then as soon as it started it would end and everyone would go back to their normal routines.  Such was the climate that their community was governed by. Martha played with her bottom lip thoughtfully wondering how long it would be until they have to run for cover this time and whether she ought to stay close to the bridge – she had a feeling it would be today. As she picked up her rations she headed over to the Monument of Thankfulness to pay her respects to those in the community who risked their lives daily traversing the Rim in order to glean the riches from the Lake, their only source of nourishment. It was fraught with danger because there was usually only a short period of time between food becoming available and the waterfall starting. Those that chose to do this for a living were looked after extremely well by the officials as of course, if you got caught by the waterfall,  that was the end. The Monument was covered in the names of those who had sacrificed their lives so that the community could live and it was law that once you had collected your rations, you paid your respects before going home.

As Martha headed back she sensed it before it actually began. The clatter. It was quite quiet and in the distance but grew discernibly louder very quickly. As usual it was pandemonium. Children started crying as their mothers swept them up in their arms and began scurrying towards the Steel Bridge. Martha turned on her heel and followed the crowd but as always it was a bottle neck. The officials had to tried to solve the problem by opening up new routes to the bridge but there were thousands of them trying to get to the same place. Normally Martha was able to squeeze her way past and wave at her husband who knew officals who were able to lift her up out the crowd and deposit her safely on the bridge. However, she couldn’t see him and as the seconds ticked by a knot of fear began squeezing her. In a panic she darted farther right hoping that most people would have gone to the main pathway by the Rim but the farthest path was full of schoolchildren being led up by their teachers. She was dithering when the darkness fell. Martha and the rest of her community stopped instinctively and looked up. It was black today – the deadliest of all. Martha watched in horror overcome with the fumes before the liquid fell. In the few moments before she was obliterated Martha surprised herself by smiling. She was going to see her children again.

Above the Rim and the Chemical Rain Mrs. Wainwright twisted the cap back on the black anti-limescale Domestos bottle and placed it back behind the drain.

‘Richard! Your toilet was a disgrace as usual! No wonder your father refuses to use the bathroom when he visits you.’

And with that Mrs. Wainwright bustled out slamming the door behind her.