"I don't think you have all the facts."
"Which are?" Vinnie implored.
"They are hiding something."
Vinnie's dad was on a roll tonight. She couldn't tell if it was because of his third glass of wine or if it was because their eyes were glued to the TV from the Chernobyl update flashing across the screen.
It sounded like things were even more tense since the explosion. The radiation didn't just go away. The surrounding areas were now inhospitable. Vinnie had a hard time wrapping her head around it. After all, it was happening halfway across the world.
All she could think about was how messy those life insurance claims must have been.
Her dad let out a huff. "There was an explosion. We know that. And we know that anything radioactive is dangerous. Anything." He exaggerated. "Those people are as good as dead."
Vinnie outstretched her hand to the tv screen as the news update rolled along the bottom.
"Dad, the New York Times just said that the death toll is only up to 26."
She didn't know how to help calm him down. And she definitely knew that she couldn't test his knowledge. How was she supposed to know how it all worked? Radiation was like invisible laser vision.
Invisible laser vision.
She rolled her eyes. Vinnie's dad was getting far too excited about the news. He was starting to sound like a conspiracy theorist. It was almost as bad as the time he drove through Nevada to visit family and he swore the aliens were watching him the entire way. He was inconsolable.
"I don't trust it."
Her dad was grumbling like a kid. He wanted to be right. He wanted to get his way.
Vinnie shrugged her shoulders, not giving him any more ammo about the subject.
Pulling herself up from the couch she stepped over to the TV.
"Okay, I think it's time to change the channel."
Her dad didn't argue, but he did reach out to his wine glass only to find it empty. With a frown he lounged back in his chair. Vinnie clicked through the channels, but there wasn't a lot on. The options were a late night Disney movie and a 60 Minutes rerun.
"How about we watch a tape?" She offered instead, but as she turned around her dad had dozed off in his chair. The wine must have caught up with ol' grumpy gills.
Vinnie shook her head and turned the TV off. It was getting late anyways.
They had spent the night catching up about work, but it was generally unchanging. Her dad made fun designs for skateboards and every once in a while he would take a trip to San Francisco or Los Angeles to help work on a project. He usually was able to work from home, and it was good because his own dad was close by.
His latest design was something pink and green or...something? Vinnie couldn't remember. All of the designs started to blur together after a while. Vie preferred roller skates to skateboarding anyway.
Not that she had the heart to tell him that.
She talked about her work and vague details about different claims, but it wasn't nearly as exciting as his big meetings and marketing events. Vinnie let him lead the conversation, but she couldn't have planned on him leading it towards nuclear disaster.
Their relationship was a chummy one, but it was pretty surface levelled.
They could goof off, but he would also talk to Vinnie about oil changes and taxes. He wasn't a very affectionate person, but then again, neither was Vie. She wasn't raised to be.
Her dad had strong opinions about everything. When she thought back to their conversation about the news story on Chernobyl the more predictable his reaction was. Vinnie should have seen it coming.
For his entire life he was on edge that there was going to be a war. Nuclear detonation. He was born and raised at the height of the Red Scare and his own dad had left to fight in the Korean War. So maybe he was being a little bit paranoid, but now that she thought about it, he was always that way. He was always on the defensive.
If anything, it just confirmed to her that life was fragile. Nothing lasts forever.
She had learned to ignore it. Now, Vinnie could live with her dad being paranoid, but she couldn't live with his terrible smoking habit.
Her grandpa was in and out of the hospital with lung cancer of all things and her dad had a terrible habit of smoking while he drank. It was a cigarette sometimes, maybe a cigar, anything he could get his hands on. It was his vice, and stopping him was her virtue.
Vinnie left him in his chair and made her way back to her old room, and she was starting to feel the weight of the day sinking into her bones. She needed to call it a night.
She woke up the next morning to the smell of waffles and bacon and she could hear the Talking Heads music playing quietly down the hall. She shifted in bed, the covers tickling her nose. It was a new day.
Vie took in the nostalgic room with a lazy grin. There was soft blue paint on the walls and old pictures and posters were hanging up all over the place. The only thing she didn't remember was just how small her bed was. Vinnie groaned as she stretched, her tired limbs reluctant to wake up.
But breakfast was waiting. And she knew that the clock was ticking if she was going to get to it before her dad ate it all up.
The waffles didn't stand a chance.
Vinnie's dad drowned his plate in maple syrup, but she took a savory route. She made a waffle sandwich, smushing eggs and bacon and cheese between two waffles.
She insisted that it was the apex of sandwich making.
"How about we visit Grandpa for dinner tonight?" Her dad asked, looking over his plate and half finished crossword puzzle to see Vinnie with a mouthful of food.
She was excited, nodding earnestly.
There was no more talk of annihilation. There was no more talk of aliens.
There wasn't anything overly exciting about her visit. They still did their own things, but the company was nice.
Her dad worked a little bit in the morning and Vinnie went on a jog around the neighborhood. When she came back she was watching TV while he read a book. They went to the grocery store and enjoyed the quiet aisles, arguing over the best cereals and chips.
With more than enough time they headed to the local videotape shop. The two of them made a beeline towards the classic movie stands that were filled with the old Batman movies and spaghetti westerns, and Vinnie was locked on to one of the old monster movies.
Invasion of Astro-Monster. It was a Godzilla movie, and she tapped on the cover to get her dad's attention.
"It's a good one. Let's get it."
If there was one thing Vinnie, her dad, and her grandpa had in common it was watching old monster movies. There was nothing as humbling as three generations sitting in the same room cheering for Earth's hero: a fire breathing lizard.
Her grandpa was a tough guy to be around on the best of days, but he wasn't mean. Hardened by life, but overall he was just trying to get by like everyone else. They ordered a pizza and had their movie, and they sat in her grandpa's family room comfortably.
He was grumbling about how his appetite wasn't like it used to be, and Vinnie held back a sad grin. Her grandpa was aware that he was sick, and he didn't try to hide it.
"It's a shame." Vinnie feigned sadness. "I guess I'll have to grab another slice and you can live vicariously through it. And then in an hour when I am complaining about a stomach ache it'll be your fault."
Her Grandpa croaked out a laugh. "Hah!"
Vinnie stepped away back towards the kitchen, glad that she could get a good reaction out of him. She could still make out what they were talking about from the other room.
"Charles, she's a sweet kid. Just like your Ma used to be."
Suddenly Vinnie wasn't sure if she wanted to listen in anymore. It was a terrible thing that happened to his wife. She had died years ago. Vinnie was probably six or seven at the time, and she could barely remember her grandmother, but she remembered the day that it happened.
Someone tried to break into their house while her grandpa was out working the fields. They didn't take anything, not when her grandma was staring down the barrel of a shotgun with a look that could kill.
She fired a warning shot into the yard and it made the intruder flee, but it also alerted her husband to hurry back to the house. He wasn't far and could hear the shot as clear as day. By the time that he made it back to the house she was clutching at her arm and her breathing was shallow.
Her blood pressure had gotten too high. She passed away that night from a heart attack.
Vinnie remembered that day because her grandpa had driven her to school that morning. Her dad was on one of his trips and she was going to be staying at her grandparents place for a couple of days. She remembered going to the hospital after school. She remembered the waiting. She only remembered small parts of her grandmother.
She was brave.
She wasn't scared.
She must have known what was happening.
Vinnie took a breath and glanced at all of the pictures hanging on the walls and sitting on the table in the kitchen. They were all over the place. Most of them were pictures of her grandparents when they were younger, happier. While her grandpa had very few pictures of him smiling, his wife was another story. She was always smiling as bright as sunshine. Some of their pictures had their friends and kids, but it was mostly the two of them.
Vie stood up straight, pushing off the fridge with a woosh. It wasn't from her moving, but from the papers that fell off the fridge in the process.
She cursed out a breath before bending down, scrambling to pick them up. In the midst of the mess she spotted one picture unlike the rest - it was an old polaroid.
It was a photo of a girl sitting on a carousel with a lopsided grin, her hands clinging to the horse for dear life. Next to her stood an older gentleman with big sideburns helping to keep her steady. He was wearing a baseball cap and he was smiling ear to ear like he had been laughing.
The people in the background were blurred like they had been moving when the picture was taken, but even then it was such a candid picture. Someone must have taken it in the rush of the moment. Turning it over surprised her further.
Papa and Vienna. 1970. S.C.
Flipping it over again she took another look. Was that her grandpa? He looked so happy, like he was a completely different person. Vinnie was so small, so happy. She put the other papers and photos back on the fridge, but held onto the polaroid as she walked back out to the living room.
"Grandpa," she started, grabbing their attention, "do you remember this picture?" she held out the photo to him and he squinted, taking the picture out of her hand.
Even her dad leaned in to catch a glimpse. She couldn't figure out his expression, one of confusion or discontent. Maybe he didn't remember. Her grandpa looked at it for a minute and flipped it over before handing it back to Vinnie.
"We took a trip when you were little." He scratched his head. Maybe he did remember. "Your dad was working, so Grandma and I took you to the beach. There was a carousel right on the boardwalk."
Vinnie passed the picture to her dad to take a look.
"Your Grandma didn't like the rides that spin, so I went on with you instead." Her grandpa went on. "And I'll say, you were smiling at everything and everyone. It was like your whole mood changed when you got on the ride. The girl on the horse in front of us took the picture."
"It's a good picture of you, pops." Vinnie's dad agreed.
"It was fun." He added as an afterthought, sitting up in his chair. "Oh, but then you got mad. You did not want to leave the boardwalk after that ride. I've never seen such a tantrum." He grumbled along with a whistle. "It was a big ruckus and security came over to make sure you were okay. We couldn't figure out why you were acting out. You never pulled that kind of shit when you were with us."
Vinnie didn't expect the story to turn sour, and neither did her dad. Generally she was a pretty mellow kid. She barely cried, and definitely never yelled. It was a surprise to the both of them.
"I don't remember that." Vinnie frowned, looking at how happy she was in the picture. "I'm sure I would have remembered the trip. South Carolina's a long way away. How could I not remember it?" She asked herself.
The two men shared a look. "Did she say South Carolina?"
Her dad frowned.
"Honey, why would we go out to the east coast? We never went that far."
"Oh," Vinnie mumbled, sounding defeated. She shouldn't have made the assumption but she was so sure. "Then what is S.C.?"
Her grandpa shrugged. "It was a long time ago. I'm not sure kiddo."
She left it at that, setting the picture down on the table next to her.
They turned on the movie, watching Godzilla saving the world from every space monster in his way.
Halfway through the movie she listened to them talk about her grandpa's new treatments, but Vinnie wasn't focused. She was getting tired and really didn't have the energy to engage with them. Just sitting there was nice.
She woke up the next morning in the same spot with an old blanket draped over her. She could hear her dad and grandpa chatting on the porch and with the blanket still wrapped around her she hobbled to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and then out to the front to join them.
They were talking about farming and chores and cars and robots and even robot cars. It was nice.
Vinnie was enjoying her coffee and the banter. The view wasn't bad either, and she watched the trees sway and listened to the birds fluttering by. She missed quiet mornings like this. It was far calmer than the rush of Santa Barbara.
"And that's why robot cars are a bad idea." Her grandpa concluded, slapping his hand on his knee.
His argument was that if the cars needed gasoline and diesel fuel to keep running there wouldn't be enough oil for everyone else to use and the market would crash. The robot cars would monopolize the fuel market and had to be stopped at all costs.
Her dad's counter claim was that people would monopolize the fuel market and oppress the robot cars into paying inflated prices. There would be a robot mutiny.
"They would be unstoppable." Vinnie hummed in agreement.
The morning eased by and after lunch Vinnie and her dad waved their goodbyes and headed back to her childhood home. Vinnie went for another jog around the neighborhood and stopped to say hello to her old friends that worked at the grocery store, but it was lax.
It was a simple life, and for a moment she remembered why she left Delano. It was too simple. Vinnie wanted more. That's why she left in the first place.
It was late in the afternoon when she started packing up her things to head home. The trip had been a quick one, but it was nice for what it was worth. True to his word her dad tacos and surprised her with his special brownies to take back with her.
The road was far busier on the drive back to the coast, and Vinnie passed through a couple of construction zones and saw an accident or two that held up traffic.
She planned on being home by about 8:00, but by the time she got through traffic and stopped for gas it was closer to 10:00 at night. She was tired from the drive but the flashing lights in front of her apartment complex were enough to keep her alert.
There were two police cars outside of the apartment entrance, and on the steps she watched as Marcella waved her arms around, talking quickly to the officer.
Vinnie could tell Marcella was frantic. She practically jumped out of her car and threw her bag over her shoulder making her way to the front.
Vie watched as Marcella put a hand over her mouth and held back a cry. The officer took a step back, and Vinnie noticed that she wasn't the only one the cop wanted to talk to. There were three other women who looked equally as distraught. Vinnie made quick work of getting over to her, coming into Marcella's line of sight.
"What happened?" Vie asked, but a lump was forming in her throat. Marcella looked feral, angry, and scared. Her eyes were red from crying and her hands were clammy, shaking in front of her.
"Stella's gone."