Jubilee Year: A Novel (Erelong Trilogy Book I) - An Extended Sample

Chapter 5: DROPOUTS

Stella sat in front of her laptop, rubbing her forehead as she read the text on the screen.

"Hey!" She exclaimed with a frown. "Listen to this, Summer. This report is saying there's been no global economic recovery since the 2008 stock market crash."

"I can't concentrate on my homework if you keep talking to me," Summer replied without lifting her head.

They listened to the sound of Storm's motorbike crunching gravel as he pushed it down the drive. The squeak and rattle of the machine as it settled on its stand. The hollow thunk as he dropped his helmet on the kitchen floor.

He stood in the door of the lounge with a look of slight disappointment on his dust-covered face. He had received no reaction from the two at the table.

"It says here that this recession we are in is really a worldwide depression," Stella said shaking her head. "You know, this means world war three!"

"Mom!" Summer cried out in exasperation. "You're such a downer."

"Sometimes a war is what it takes to have peace," Storm chimed in.

"I don't believe that for a second and neither should you," she said, turning to face her son with a scowl. "That's just utter bullshit if you excuse my French. Anyone with half a brain knows war only results in more war. And pick that helmet up off the floor! Jeez, what's wrong with you? You'd think I raised you two kids in a barn."

"What's wrong with the bike?" Summer asked him.

"I ran out of gas a couple of blocks down the road and didn't have enough money on me to go to the gas station. So, I had to push my bike all the way home!"

"Hard yakka, Storm?" Summer asked, mimicking the slang and lazy nasal sound of many of the locals.

"Wait until you do a day's work in that heat!" He said, staring daggers at his sister.

"She won't have to because she's going to study, pass all of her exams, and work inside a nice air-conditioned office. Isn't that right, Sum?" She put her arm around her daughter's shoulders and squeezed.

"Hey, quit it! You're hugging me too tight."

"I love you," Stella bent over Summer and kissed her on the top of her head.

Then she turned and smiled at Storm.

"You too, sweetheart. You're still thinking of going to university, aren't you? Things are going to come right. You'll see."

"Sure, Mom. Hey, is your phone working?"

"I think so," she said with a look of surprise. Some times the boy could be a little too cryptic. "What makes you ask?"

"Every time I use mine, the signal breaks up. I've made calls to old man Harris, Penny, and Ben, and there were dropouts all the time. I hardly got a complete sentence."

"That's strange," Stella said, wrinkling her brow.

"Ben said he's noticed his phone doing the same thing all afternoon," Storm said. "Yeah, I thought I'd broken mine."

"One of our teachers told everyone in my classroom she needed a new smartphone," summer said.

"Well, I only bought mine a year ago," Storm said.

"Why not get yourself a new one? You can give that old one to me."

"Nice try, Sum," he said, walking over to the television set and switching it on.

"Wonder if the news says anything about phone tower problems. Might even mention the strange stuff Dad mentioned."

"What's he on about now?" Stella asked.

"He thinks sunrise and sunset are happening at the wrong times," Storm told her.

"Was he drinking?"

"No more than usual," Storm said.

"He's a great one for staring at the horizon and missing what's in front of him," Stella said with a chuckle. They fell into silence as they watched the latest reports from Eastern Europe and the Middle East. Behind the anchorwoman rolled a continuous loop of images: Presidents and generals talking from podiums, naval ships sailing the high sea, squadrons of missiles leaving plumes of fiery exhaust vanishing into the sky, multi-story apartments erupting in flames, and dead children carried on bloodied stretchers.

A reporter on the roof of a high-rise hotel spoke in urgent tones. His mic capturing all the background noise from around the hotel swimming pool: The splashes and merry hoots from the happy bathers, and the clink of glass from guests drinking at the poolside bar.

Then, with a brilliant flash filled the screen with white, a fireball erupted into the sky, and the image broke into a scattering of white pixels. A black column rose over the buildings. Flames, dust and charred remains sucked up into the dark swirling funnel above the blast. The column continued to climb higher until it towered over the mountain range where it folded over on itself like the cap of a mushroom, and all the while came screams amid the unfolding chaos. The news station broke away from the live report and went back to the studio and the shaken anchorwoman who stared wide-eyed off-camera.

Stella stood up, her hands placed on her hips, staring at the television screen.

"This is madness! The whole world's gone crazy."

"Take it easy, Mom," Storm said. "It's the same news we've been watching for years."

"All these wars and all the while at home there's unemployment, rioting, and police shooting up homeless camps and raiding homes to find terrorists under our beds. The government wants to close every second factory and mine. The price of rent, electricity, and food has gone through the roof. But most of the news on the telly is all about the latest divorce in Hollywood, or another sporting club scandal!"

"Mom!"

"And you know I like my sport!" Stella said, throwing up her arms. "But honestly, this is ridiculous! The weather report ought to be worth watching, but they can't even get that right!"

"Kind of what Dad's saying," Storm said.

"How am I supposed to do my homework?" Summer hollered, glaring at her mom.

Storm massaged his mom's neck, watching Stella's shoulders slump and her head roll forward.

"Oh, that's what I was wanting," Stella told him softly. "Thanks, love."