Beckett: Worms (Short Story)

The following morning, Nathan drove them to the site. Tim was surprised to see a lot of volunteers. There was a lot of carnage. Pieces of meteorite, both large and small, all over the field; debris from the burned trees and vegetation. Tim couldn’t see any herd carcasses. The farmstead wasn’t damaged either. He gave a low sigh and silently thanked God for hearing his prayer.

They exited Nathan’s truck and saw the monstrosity that struck the Earth’s surface. It looked a lot bigger than it did on TV. Tim agreed with the news reporter last night that it must’ve been at least a hundred feet in diameter. It had a sort of ominous look to it as well.

Nathan saw a man with a clipboard and said, “Someone with a clipboard always knows what’s going on. Let’s go see him.”

They approached him and the man said, “You two looking to help?”

“Yes, sir,” said Tim.

“Alright. Let’s see.” He looked at his clipboard and turned a page over. “We have most of the people cleaning up the debris from the vegetation and whatnot, so we’ll have you help with the pieces of meteorite. Grab a wheel barrel over there,” he pointed to his left, “put what you can carry in it, and dump it at that site over there.” He pointed to a pile of meteorite remnants behind him and to his left.

“What are they gonna’ do with what’s left of the meteorite?” Tim asked.

“Dunno. I normally work with the Salvation Army. We volunteered to run this operation. Or rather, I was voluntold. Frankly, this is out of the Salvation Army’s jurisdiction. Regardless, my guess is probably the government will come by and haul this thing outta’ here and break it down. Probably give it to government scientists to study it. Hell, I dunno. But enough idle chit chat. Get on over there and help clean up. We got free water bottles at the table over there.” He pointed to his right. “Keep yourselves hydrated. We don’t wanna’ have people passing out from heat stroke. If you run out of water, just fill it by the nearby creek. It has clean water.”

Tim cringed at how the man said “creek,” pronouncing it like “crick.”

“Thanks,” Nathan said.

Tim and Nathan grabbed their water bottles and their respective wheel barrels and got to work. Tim couldn’t help but stare at the meteorite when he wasn’t bending down picking up its pieces. He’s never seen a meteorite before, especially one so close, like the rest of the people here. This large, black, ugly rock was sitting in his home state of Illinois. He was surprised the government hadn’t come to take it away yet. Tim’s not one for tin foil hats, but still, one would expect the government to be involved beyond the county level.

Or maybe they’re already here, disguised as civilians, Tim thought.

He shook his head. I watch too much TV.

It was a hot summer day to be hauling large chunks of space rock, so Tim had finished his water bottle in only half an hour. So, he went to the CREEK (not “crick”) and filled it back up, taking a sip. He felt some weird creepy crawlies crawling around on his gums and tongue and immediately spat it out, accidentally swallowing a few.

He looked into the water bottle. There were worms at least an inch long inside of it.

Clean water my foot, he tought.

“Hey,” Nathan called out suddenly from behind him, “my friend Stephen is here to take me to work. You can have the struck so you can get back home.” He tossed him the keys and caught them.

Nathan started to walk away when Tim called out, “Hey! Nathan!” Nathan turned around. “Don’t drink water from the creek! There’s bugs in it!”

Nathan looked at his water bottle. “Gross! Glad I didn’t drink from it! Thanks, little bro!” And threw it on the ground and ran to meet his friend.

With no good water to stay hydrated with, Tim decided to call it a day. He went to the clipboard guy and said, “Hey, the water’s no good. There’s bugs in it.”

“Did you scoop near the riverbank?” the man asked.

“Yeah,” Tim answered.

“That’s why. You gotta’ go in the middle of the stream.”

Tim shook his head and started to walk away when the man said, “Hey, where ya’ goin’? You only worked for about an hour!”

“I just don’t care anymore,” Tim said.

“What do you mean you don’t care? You volunteered to help!”

“Whatever. Screw off.”

Tim got into Nathan’s truck and drove off.