Dec. 18, 2012 11pm
We had another fight tonight. I can’t control my temper. What started out as a discussion turned into a complete blowout. For the third time in 2 months she asked me to leave because she feared for her and the kids safety. I can’t blame her. I now know that slamming the chair from the kitchen table against the door frame….shattering it to pieces, is not the actions of a rational man who loves his wife and children. I can’t control it….once the needle hits red there is no turning back.
So here I sit…. in the place that gives me complete quiet and solace from the world. I found it the first time I was asked to leave. So I came back the second. And now the third.
It sits in the back of “old man Callahan’s” Farm. He has allowed us to roam his property since we moved down the road from him 10 years ago. I came across it by chance. It has become my place of refuge.
It is an odd place to call a temporary home away from home, but somehow it just feels right.
It has all my needs for basic survival.
-Canned food to last at least 6 months
– bottled water
-various books and magazines….although way outdated still something to read
-a old school transistor radio with dozens of extra batteries
-a couple of fairly comfortable cots for sleeping
– and a leather recliner for kicking back in.
Not much to look at besides that…I mean its a nuclear fallout shelter for God’s sake not the freaking Marriott!
Anyhow, I write in this journal to help clear my mind and realize that this whole episode tonight was my fault. They are always my fault. When I go home tomorrow I will make an appointment with that anger management counselor she has begged me to see and set the ball into motion.
December 21, 2012 9 am
Well….looks like I did it this time.
I got out of the cot this morning thanks to a large boom that awoke me. It must have been part of the dream I was having. Mushrooms were falling out of the sky and leaving craters in the ground. Beyond that I don’t remember any of it….mushrooms lol.
I went up the stairs to the door to leave, and wouldn’t you know it the stupid latch is jammed and I can’t get out. With the restless sleep I had last night I have decided to get a few more winks and then figure out a way to get out of here.
December 23, 2112 6 am
I have been down here for more than 2 bloody days. The door won’t budge. Banging on it does no good. My rage and myself are not as effective when battling a steel door. I have found a manual that has the make up of this damn shelter that I hope will shed some light on how to get out.
I miss my family and feel stupider by the minute…not just by my actions but for leaving. When i leave that means she wins. I won’t ever do that again.
The manual states that an automatic seal will engage in case of a nuclear blast. The seal will disengage after 48 hours has transpired.
At approximately 7:43 am he hears the lock click open.
He looks up at the door and slowly makes his way toward it. Once he reaches it he turns the wheel counterclockwise and pushes outward.
A rush of fresh air and light pounds his senses. Before he can open his eyes to adjust to the surroundings, he realizes that he hears nothing.
No farm equipment
Then he hears a click
With all the fear and dread that is filling his mind he forces himself to open his eyes.
He shields his eyes with the palms of his hands and looks directly in front of him.
What he sees he can’t comprehend.
So she explains it to him.
“You have hit me in front of my kids for the last time, you Son of a Bitch. Mr. Callahan knows what you have been doing to me and the kids and gave me his shotgun to remedy my situation the only way it can be remedied.” She says with the shotgun pointed directly at his chest.
“He told me you had been coming out here. He engaged the time lock to give me time to decide on what I wanted to do. He said I had 48 hours….I have been out here waiting for 46. I made my decision then and I plan to carry it out now.” She calmly stated and unloaded both barrels.
He stumbled back from the force of the blast and fell back into the shelter and down the stairs. She looked down at him tossed in the shotgun and shut the door and said,
“That’s what happens when my needle goes to red.”
She goes back to the farmhouse to inform Mr. Callahan that it is done with. He just nods his head and she leaves to be with her children.
After she is gone, he goes out to the barn and cranks up his old backhoe and drives it out toward the shelter. He does what he has always wanted to do.
He uses the huge dirt mound that sat behind the shelter and buried the front of the shelter under it. When he finished there was no sign that the shelter ever existed.
He returns to his farmhouse, sits on his porch swing and says to no one in particular with a chuckle,
“Maybe that calendar the Mayans made were predicting the end of HIS world….cuz my world is doing just fine.”