Sixty-Three

Fiction By Julie // 8/20/2010

Sixty-Three

It was her sixty-third birthday.

Savannah stood by the front window, waiting and remembering Aidan’s sixty-third birthday two years ago. No party, no presents, no cake. Just the knock on the door and the van coming for her husband.

She glanced at a yellowed newspaper clipping, a relic worthy of museums, sitting on the side table. Population Control Amendment Passes.  They had both voted for it, with the unthinking enthusiasm of youth.  Because of the amendment, they had forgone having children. And now the other provision was coming home. Maybe children and grandchildren would have made the last years more bearable. But it wouldn’t change what was coming.

Rain blurred the corners of a white, boxy truck. Right on time, of course.  A suit and tie stepped out of the back. The man wearing them seemed to disappear into the outfit. He knocked on the door.

Savannah opened it.

“Are you Savannah Hutchenson?”

“Yes.”

“I’m  here with the government—“

“To fulfill section 12c of Amendment 29 to the Constitution.” Savannah interrupted. “I know. My husband turned sixty-three two years ago.”

  The man’s face creased in mockery of a smile. “Do you need help getting into the van?”

“No thank you. I can walk that far without help. Besides, it’s not like I’ll feel it tomorrow.” Savannah stepped through the door. Rain splashed in her face, trailing down each cheek like tears.

            A metal ramp led into the back of the truck. Savannah opened the door and saw only a small cabinet and a chain with restraints.  “Don’t try anything, Hutchenson,” the man commanded.

            “I won’t.” Savannah answered, but he strapped her in anyway.

            He swabbed her arm with disinfectant and took a syringe from the cabinet.

            “Was the disinfectant necess—“ Savannah’s question was cut short when he jabbed the  syringe in her elbow.

            Savannah’s head lolled to one side. Her eyes remained open, but her tongue stuck out. The man checked her pulse. None.

            He dropped the needle in the sharps bin and began untying Savannah’s body. Behind him, he could hear a moving truck pulling up. A young couple stepped out and began carrying their furniture inside the house.

 

Comments

Oh wow. Have you read The

Oh wow. Have you read The Giver by Lois Lowry? There is a similar situation to this in that book. If you haven't, it's definitely well worth reading.

E | Thu, 09/02/2010

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond

Erin, I have read the Giver,

Erin, I have read the Giver, but this story was more inspired by a piece in National Right to Life--I can't find it now, but it had these 'tests' that people had to pass at each age, and if they didn't pass, they were euthanized.

Julie | Thu, 09/02/2010

Formerly Kestrel

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