"When you arise in the morning think of what a privilege it is to be alive, to think, to enjoy, to love."
…Along time ago in our galaxy
“Apocalypse Daddy has been imprisoned in his home on the planet of Earth. He has chosen to home teach his daughter Alice after freeing her from the clutches of the vile disease Coronavirus. Little does Apocalypse Daddy know, but the best scientists, doctors, philosophers and thinkers from around the planet have been working to save the vulnerable and build a new armoured vaccine, even more powerful than the dreaded Covid-19 Death Star. When completed the vaccine will spell certain doom for the virus.
In the meantime, a small band of Apocalypse Daddies and Apocalypse Mommies are struggling to restore calmness to the galaxy, create nurturing environments to continue educating their children, coming up with new and ingenious ways to harness the power of the light side whilst fighting the powers of the dark side; they are building hope, balancing emotions and playing stupid games and listening to terrible music. Day after day after day after goddamn mother-fucking day.”
Episode VI
Alice came into focus like a star destroyer. A colossal space ship moving through hyperspace with a box full of Lego, a Fisher-Price radio blasting out French nursery rhymes about who knows what, a pile of books, a jigsaw puzzle, half a rocking horse, a packet of crayons, two colouring books and a hammer.
“Daddy,” she said, hovering above me, dangling her hammer inches from my left eye. “Wake up. It’s time to play.”
I rolled over.
She dropped a book on my head. One of those hardback covered baby proof versions.
“Daddy,” she said again. “Wake up, it’s time to play.”
She was covered in chocolate.
We had the neighbours to thank for that. In the Old World they had no idea who we were. We reciprocated their ignorance. In the New World we’re all friends, like a big band of rebels with a common enemy, fighting for sanity, for laughs, for something bigger than ourselves. Perhaps for the beauty of the universe, or a deeper understanding of humanity. Perhaps because there was sod all else to do.
They had given Alice chocolate. They thought it would calm her down, sedate her a little. Fools.
“What time is it?” I said.
“Your thoughts betray you Daddy,” she said. “When I left you I was but the learner, now I am the monster.” And she raised her hammer high above her head. “If you will not play, then you will meet thy doom.”
“For god’s sake Darth Vader,” I said, jinking like a tie-fighter. “I’ll play. What do you want to play?”
I got up. It was still dark outside, even though we had put the clocks forward. We lived in a casino, time an illusion.
“I want to play drawing,” she said as we crawled into the kitchen, trying to let Apocalypse Mommy sleep, at least until the sun came up.
“Draw me the curve.”
“What curve?”
“You know, the curve.”
“I don’t want to play drawing, can we play a puzzle?”
I said yes. In an instant there were 5000 puzzle pieces scattered around the living room.
“Not Mommy puzzle,” she said. “Alice puzzle.”
Twenty-four large pieces. They were easier to tidy up.
“I don’t want to play puzzle any more, can we play Lego?”
My favourite game. Just tip the pieces over my head, I’ll pierce the skin on my feet later.
“I don’t want to play Lego any more, can we play cooking?”
“Sure, what do you want to cook?”
“I don’t want to play cooking any more,” she said, throwing a sieve, a
whisk, a mixing bowl and a spoon flying across the floor.
I could still see Venus, high in the northern sky. It was early.
“Can we play reading?”
And she threw books everywhere.
“Can we play football?”
And she kicked a ball and knocked three photos off the wall.
“I don’t want to play football, can we play doll house now?”
I was about to lay down the law when she said. “Can we play doctors and nurses? I don’t like the microbes. They make people sick and that makes me sad and, Daddy, when can I go back to the park? When can I go back to school? When can I see my friends? When can I see my Grandad?”
And my heart collapsed through hyperspace. “Let’s ring Grandad on the big screen. We don’t have to be the only ones up at this hour. Share the love.”
I connected the projector to the phone using what appeared to be that cable that goes under the Atlantic ocean, and dialled.
Nobody answered.
“He’s asleep” Alice said.
“Keep trying,” I said. “Call everyone, wake them all up.”
Static.
A fuzzy image appeared.
Alice winced.
“That face you make,” said Apocalypse Grandad, through the binary code travelling at the speed of light across an ocean bed. “Look I so old to young eyes?”
Alice laughed.
“When nine hundred years old you reach, look as good, you will not, hmmm?”
“Grandad,” Alice said, wiping chocolate on the wall. “Can we play hide-and-seek?”
“Strong in the force am I, but not that strong.”
And the line cut. More static.
Organic food shops re-opened in Spain and Iran. People queued up for organic rhubarb.
The image flickered back into existence. I asked Grandad if he had any advice on home teaching, on being an Apocalypse Daddy.
“No more training do you require,” Apocalypse Grandad said. “One more thing remains. Frozen, you must confront Frozen. Only then will you really be Apocalypse Daddy, only then will you feel the real force of the Dad. And confront it you will. Confront it you must.”
“Grandad,” Alice said, ignoring the life lessons. “I’m a princess.”
“Yes Alice, you are a princess. But…”
Apocalypse Grandad became a blue haze. His voice distorted.
He clicked back into focus, then out again.
“Are you in a tunnel?” I asked.
“Ye…ye….”
“Hello?”
“…Driving to… shop, I want to be… there early to beat the queues. I have a… mask, don’t… worry about…me.”
“I’ve got a mask too Grandad, look.” And Alice put her mask on. “It protects others from my microbes mostly, rather than me, did you know that?”
“Take your mask off so I can look upon you with my own eyes.”
Alice did a head stand. “Look.”
“I’m running out of ideas Apocalypse Grandad. Let alone patience.”
“The strength of a dad flows from the force. Alice, the force runs strong in your family.”
“Just me and Mommy and Daddy.”
“There…”
And he cut out.
“Is…”
He was speaking with great effort, lead down a bad line as Orange and Vodafone channelled bandwidth around the world.
“Another…”
TV shows buffered and buffered and buffered. Megabits were chased around an invisible lattice of man-made miracles. You could watch Game of Thrones on the Moon, but you couldn’t get WhatsApp to fucking work on a Tuesday in Basingstoke.
Attention only lasts twenty-four seconds.
You can get into space but you can’t get to the office for nine o’clock in the morning.
“Apocalypse Grandad?”
A million satellite navigation systems communicated with malfunctioning Chinese space ships orbiting the globe like some kind of intergalactic tracking network bouncing signals round the universe, trying to keep up with the time zones, stay ahead of the surge for bandwidth.
Netflix released another season of Tiger King and the
whole internet drowned.
And through the crackle, the fuzz and the early morning commotion we listened.
“There is another…Apocalypse…Child.”
“Luca,” Princess Alice said. “My brother.”
And Luca crawled into the living room.
“I see dead people,” he said.
“That’s the wrong film,” I said. “But where are they?”
He dribbled all over the floor, screamed like some kind of banshee.
“Everywhere.”