Ya’ know… there’s one thing I never really appreciated about Latvia before the entire ‘End of the World’ thing.
Hills.
Man, I used to bitch about biking up slopes for as long I can remember. Now though, as I raced downward a deathly empty road, the wind in my hair-feathers and dust in my eyes, behind a massive pair of shiny aviator shades, I realized I probably should have kept my mouth shut.
The last three days had passed in a blur. From me leaving Valka behind the moment I got up, all the way to now steadily coasting along on my way home. My great plan of hijacking one of my uncle’s cars had completely failed, since apparently car batteries had this shite’ habit of dying when not used for a month.
It was alright though! I was resourceful! At least, that's how I always saw myself…
Seeing how I didn’t have any actual vehicles and was way too small to steal my cousin’s bike I had settled on the next best thing: a goddamn shopping cart. Granted, it took me a couple of tries that ended up with me in a ditch, leaving my hands and face scratched up to fuck and limping, with all my precious cargo in the damn dirt, but eventually I managed to figure out a way to make it drivable.
Two brooms tied to the sides as brakes/steering wheels had turned the rickety bastard into something actually useful. I had reawakened all my mad skilz’ of sledding I had acquired in my youth and only a few hours later was well on my way to the capital.
Thankfully Bella was fine even after all those crash related endeavors as she had decided to run along my cart instead of sitting in it which was good for her. It also made me realize I was more of a complete moron than an untrained mutt, but whatever.
Thankfully all those crashes knocked my noggin’ around enough to give me a few ideas. The main one was the fact that I had to tie my shit down. Like, really, really well because it went fucking everywhere whenever I hit a bump. So did I.
Despite the fact that I had to leave most of my haul back at our summer-home, seeing how I could only (barely) control one cart at a time, I still managed to pack a fair bit of extra stuff in three backpacks and strap them to the sides and back of the cart. Those mostly contained food and other things, like blankets and rope and paper and some clothes I’d nabbed from the cheap hand-me-down store back at Valka, so I wasn’t too worried about mushing them if I tipped over again. Except for the backpack full of ramen… That shit was precious.
The rest of my supplies were neatly packed in the cart and tied down in layers with bed sheets and ropes. I had acquired a sort of Tetris-sense over the past few years when traveling between our two properties a bazillion times each summer, which basically gave me the ability to stack a fuckton of things in a space no normal human could ever put all of them. It was crazy, the random shit you picked up over the years. I also had this horrible urge to hoard plastic bags in another, larger, plastic bag for no reason other than the deepest recess of my mind whispering that I might need them some day.
And finally, my insane caravan that made me feel like some strange, new-age Oregon Trail style settler was topped off my two large pillows I had gotten from I don’t even remember where, as twin thrones atop an endless ocean of loot for myself and Bella.
No one said I couldn’t have fun with the Apocalypse.
A rather unnerving thing about Bella during the entire trip was the fact that she was insane amounts of calm, even when I knew for a fact she barked like a nutjob at any living soul or car that went within ten meters of her before everyone had vanished. Now, though, she was very well behaved and never wandered off even when I ran around like crazy through all the cities we passed on our way hoping to find any other survivors... of which there were none.
Whenever we sped down the highways (and I didn’t have to haul ass uphill) she just sat there, beside me on her pillow and didn’t flip out even when I would have. The only way I knew she wasn't some sort of demon wearing her skin was the fact that she let her tongue hang out and flop around when the wind blew in our faces.
The wheels of the shopping cart squeaked and rattled as I spotted the curve of the highway by the bridge that signaled only thirty more kilometers to go until I could see the concrete monoliths of my birthplace.
Approaching the curve of the road I grabbed my two ‘steering wheels’ and pulled back. Braking was a loud and nerve-wracking process as the filed-down nubs of the brooms loudly scraped against the road, but eventually we slowed down to manageable speeds. Pulling the ‘brake’ on the opposite side to the one I wanted to turn to I managed to ease into a nice angle just as we rode onto the bridge, the terrain evening out and slowing our descent.
Just like tobogganing.
We were almost off the other end of the bridge when the shopping cart rattled to a stop. I lowered the two brooms and anchored us in place. My limbs were still a bit jittery from the bumpy ride so of course I almost rammed my beak into the ground while getting out. Bella happily wagged her tail at me as she stood up in her seat, her little black eyes staring into my red ones.
“Yeah, yeah, fucking graceful, I know,” I snarked with an eye roll. Pushing my giant sunglasses up to my forehead I walked up the front of the cart.
At the moment I was wearing my favorite dark blue, rain-proof autumn jacket. The unfortunate thing about it was that it pressed my wings against my back it made it a bit hard to move, especially my front legs (arms?) but other than that it was perfect for the chilly weather that had accompanied me in my trip. At least it wasn’t raining.
My back legs were draped in bright purple and pink little kid shoes so I didn’t cut up the pads of my lion-feet. From my palms halfway up to my elbows were draped in mutilated wool socks that I had made into gloves for the same reason. My crappy, two-euro headphones wormed their way out of my thick feathers hiding my ear-holes to the banged-up old Walkman I kept in my right pocket. The music I had been blasting the entire way was now off.
Knots had never been my strong suit and when I had to untangle and re-tangle them twenty times a day I was just about to shred the entire length of rope with my sharp-as-shit fingertips. Thankfully I resisted and managed to undo the sort of harness-thingy-ma-bobber from the twine that had kept it bound to the front of the cart and slipped it around my neck.
It was made from a hoop of rope that was generously dressed and bulked up with hand-me-down t-shirts and it got the job done of turning me into a damn mule. Also it dug into my throat real bad but it was way better than nothing. I took a few cautious steps forward until the cords went taut and looked back at Bella. The scraggly white mutt had gotten herself comfy laying down on our pillow thrones and glanced up at me. Never before would I have believed eye contact with a dog would be uncomfortable but here I was.
Shaking my head I gave the cart a sharp tug and began walking, ignoring the slight jolts of pain in my front left ankle-slash-wrist. The twin broom-‘brakes’ scraped against the ground but without me pushing down on them they really didn’t do much to slow me down. Finally off the bridge, I stopped and granted myself a moment to look to my right to a place that had always been a highlight of our trips.
Rāmkalni could be described as a pit stop once you made your way out of the farthest reaches of Riga. Shops and attractions and a diner; this place filled my heart with a strange sense of nostalgia. Ever since I could remember my family would stop here and take a ride down the dry bobsled track and I recalled each trip with fondness.
With downcast eyes I dragged my cart into the large parking lot hugging the side of the highway just by the bridge. Cars with their batteries long dead and ignition keys gone sat unmoving, taunting me with their presence. I stopped just parallel to a slightly raised, dark wood deck with four, little three-step-stairs leading up to it from the lot. There stood three shops that once upon a time sold overpriced and overrated ‘eco’ snacks. Now their grand windows were dark, covered in dirt and dust kicked up by the rain and the sharp wind sweeping its way through the nearby riverbed.
I unhitched myself from my caravan and then lifted Bella out of it. The second I set her down she dashed off to god knows where and I just shrugged. It’s not like we could get lost or anything. I moved up the steps and the deck creaked under my weight. A sound I had never noticed thanks to the chatter of people and the roar of cars, both speeding by and sitting around.
Now there was only silence.
I peered through the marred window of one of the shops but aside from some shelves and some of those floor-fridges I couldn’t see anything. A quick hop back to my cart and a moment later I was pushing the glass door of the shop open and shining in a giant-ass flashlight.
For a moment it felt like something straight out of a horror movie or something. As I moved between the perfectly untouched shelves I managed to kick up an entire storm of dust. How long had it been since anyone set foot here? It was only a month since we had driven by, yet it felt like humanity had been gone for decades.
I shined my light on one of the shelves. On it sat an entire collection of different jammy, fruity, sour… y… snacks. I remembered always seeing these exact ones at like, every single fair or any sort of festival I’d ever gone to. And I’d gone to a lot of those.
I wasted a few more moments just staring at the shelf's contents, reminiscing, before snapping out of it. Running back to the front of the shop I grabbed a random woven basket and shoved everything on the shelf into it. No point in letting any of this go to waste, right?
I did another round through the store, holding the basket in one hand and the flashlight in my mouth. I grabbed some more choice snacks, at least the ones that still had some shelf life in them and ones I could actually reach with my severely reduced height, before exiting that dreary old place. I dropped the basket by my ‘vehicle’ and shoved the flashlight into my pocket before setting out again.
The sun was going down and as much as I reassured myself I was alone it was always still pretty scary being out at night. Despite the fact that I had fingertips that could rip through pretty much anything with ease I…
I shook my head again. I really, really didn’t need to psyche myself up like that. I still had a pretty long way to go, even if I’d made some seriously record time for a griffon with a fucking shopping cart. Still, I felt like I should explore a bit if nothing else than pure nostalgia.
Wait, no. What the fuck was I on about? Nostalgia? For what? Humanity?!
…
Yes…
Fuck.
With another shake of my head I set down a path towards the bobsledding track.
‘Click-clack’ went my front claws against the wooden walkway. The trail led around the giant restaurant that hugged the parking lot; like the shops did. In the humungous building’s shadow a small creek bubbled beside me, leading down the side of the hill and disappearing under a tiny bridge.
I passed two kayaks and a boat sitting ashore at the bottom of the walkway and paused to look at the sunlight dancing across the waters I had just crossed, visible through the scant few trees. I dragged myself towards a small bridge that stretched over the tiny creek, the place where it melded into the river. I propped myself on my back legs and leaned against the thick wooden railings. I barely even reached but it didn’t stop me from placing my arms atop the rail and burying my face against them as I blankly gazed across the glittering waters.
Gauja: the longest river in the county.
A river shrouded in old tales and memories. One that ran by my childhood home. One that marked the place of my father’s life work…
One that reminded me of a legacy that should have been mine…
No.
Stop it.
I had no time for this… this stupidness. I had cried myself out enough beforehand. I had better things to focus on. Important things…
Just don’t think about it.
Still… there was something…
I spent a few more moments watching the sun shimmer amongst the waves before I turned away. With an exhale I lowered myself back to all fours and proceeded forward through the resort. A sharp right straight off the bridge and past the picnic area. ‘Round the stump of the giant, fallen tree I once played on. Up the stars that had been rebuilt long after I had skinned my knee on them. Past the ticket booth that had eaten up more money that I could count. Through the maze that led the line to the rodel tracks.
A tug on the breaks of one of the contraptions sent it sliding down towards the long dead pulley that once upon a time dragged it up towards the peak of the hill. With a groan of the sled it began moving upwards.
With a curse my legs kept slipping on the metal track. With a grunt I continued pushing it upwards. With a gust of wind the clouds blackened what was left of the dying sunlight. With a squeak the unused sled protested. With sweat pouring down my face I crested the hill.
With a pause I stared down at the track before me. With a sad smile I clambered into the dirty dry bobsled. With a jerk it moved forward.
With a whoosh the wind whipped in my ears.
With a burst of ecstasy I forgot I wasn’t human anymore.
With a shout of joy I rounded a sharp corner.
With a rattle I sped down memory lane, again and again I felt those sunny days of years gone past play through my mind.
With wetness around my eyes my descent slowed until I came to a stop at the end of the track.
With a jerk the sled stopped and the empty word came back to me.
With a happy yelp Bella welcomed me back.
With the final rays of sun vanishing beyond the horizon and bathing the word in pale starlight my long trip caught up to me.
With a yawn I made my way back to the dusty store to lay down for a rest.
With a wag of her tail Bella never left me.
No one said I couldn’t have fun with the Apocalypse.