Foreword: I don't own the scenarios presented in On the Beach by Nevil Shute. I actually didn't like the book, surprisingly, even though I am usually a fan of dystopia, end of the world novels. Nonetheless, I was encouraged to write a separate chapter of the book. The only connections my two characters share with the book are the common fate in Australia and the time during which John Osborne drives his Ferrari to Harkaway and honks at children in the street on the way there. Enjoy.
Forgetting Why
"Life must go on; I forget just why."--Edna St. Vincent, Lament
The sun rose bright on the first day of summer. The birds chirped happily, clinging to branches of lush trees not yet wilting from the nearing heat. As the first radio broadcast of the day began recording, most of Melbourne tuned in to the usually scheduled talk show. Today's topic had been anticipated for a fair week now, and a special guest from the American NASA had even been invited. Instead of the normal broadcast, however, the first news of summer was of war.
The entire northern hemisphere had seemed to erupt in nuclear war overnight. Superpowers tested their weapons with deadly accuracy, and the war was over as soon as it had started, leaving the population of the northern hemisphere dead. The radiation was spreading as well, and although the reporter repeatedly announced that the harmful radiation would never reach Australia because of some odd theory, the citizens of Melbourne had already realized that they were soon to die.
Rhyla Jordan could almost sense her future sapping away with each setting sun. Like the cities they demolished, the nuclear missiles had crushed her dreams of attending college in America. All she had now was her books, books that nobody would read once she was gone. Mr. and Mrs. Jordan rarely read or engaged in any type of intelligent conversation; as a result, Rhyla spent as much time out of doors as possible, observing from under the shade of a tree the neighborhood children as they frolicked in the streets.
School let out the day of the war as the superintendents decided that there were things to do that were more worth everybody's time. Rhyla didn't mind very much; most of her friends had gone on and end-of-the-year trip to England and never returned. All save for one. Ayden Colster was her closest friend in terms of actual understanding, and although most of her classmates did not group them as associates, she found that it was with him that she had the most interesting conversations. He rang her on an afternoon in late December, two days before Christmas.
"Do you want to go swimming with me? It's only three right now." There was no way she could refuse; the heat was overwhelming and she had planned to cool down somehow.
"Sure, just let me grab my suit in a moment. Would you like to come in?" Ayden nodded, smiling gratefully as he stepped into the cool darkness of the entrance hall. "My parents are out until five, so I'll have to leave them a note," she explained, pouring him a glass of water and ice that he accepted and gulped. Rhyla scrambled upstairs, rather pleased that Ayden had taken initiative and biked to her house.
After searching for her bikini for what seemed like an eternity amongst the chaos of her walk-in closet, she emerged and made her way down to the dining room, teal two-piece and towel in hand. Ayden was sitting at the table, gazing out the window at the bright blue sky. Rhyla snuck up behind him and gently rumpled his hair. He turned around with a start and grinned. "Alright, let's go then. I've already got my swim trunks with my bike." Rhyla scribbled a quick note for her parents and laid it on the table, setting Ayden's glass in the sink. They stepped out onto the veranda and Rhyla locked the door, a thin sheen of sweat appearing on her forehead already in the humid heat.
The bike ride to the beach was breezy and cooling, but the heat from exertion gave the two friends plenty of incentive to change into their swimsuits as quickly as possible when they reached their destination. In minutes, Rhyla and Ayden splashed into the salty water, squinting and shielding their eyes from the sun that glinted off the deep blue water in white-gold flecks.
They waded into the deeper water and swam around, racing twice. The first time, Rhyla became afraid that they were out too far and forced Ayden to turn back as well. However, he teased her about her cautiousness, and the second time, it was Ayden who begged Rhyla to stop swimming further. She giggled, backstroking to return to him, both slightly breathless. As they paddled back to shore, Rhyla realized that the sun was already hanging low in the sky. The warm solid sand welcomed their exhausted bodies, and they both laid down, side-by-side, and gazed up at the stunning azure Australian sky.
Rhyla almost didn't notice when Ayden timidly slipped his fingers over hers, and she closed her eyes for a moment, relishing the contact, before snapping to her senses. "Ayden?" she whispered, turning her head to the side. He gazed intently back at her, then averted his eyes bashfully.
"I-I'm sorry…" Rhyla smiled gently at him and took his hand in hers. He looked back to her face. "It's just that we haven't got long to live, and I figured I had to tell you sooner or later. I've liked you for more than just friendship for the longest time, and I don't care whether you feel the same way for me. I've got nothing more to lose, but I have to let you know."
With that confession, Ayden blushed and returned to his usual taciturn demeanor, searching Rhyla's face for her response. She bit her lower lip, a mannerism that Ayden remembered observing and noting as attractive in many moments of silence, and blinked several times. Finally, she closed her eyes and sidled closer to him, her face centimeters from his. She whispered faintly, "I know."