Review – And the Band Played the Apocalypse
And the Band Played the Apocalypse harkens back to my childhood. Now, of course I didn’t live through an apocalypse. And I hope I never do! Rather, whenever my family would visit my grandmother in Brooklyn, I would have very little to do.
I’d get really, really bored. I would be so bored that I would search for something, anything to read. There were two books there which I read and reread, over and over again. One was The Wizard of Oz.
The other was a set of Greek and Roman myths. These had been adjusted for what we would now call middle grade readers. It might even be this book.
The latter book had a story called Baucis and Philemon. In that story, an old married couple who provide hospitality to disguised gods are rewarded with being saved from a flood. Their wish is to die at the same time. The gods grant their wish.
They die by being transformed into trees. It was this bit of the story that I decided to emulate as the end of this story (oops, big spoiler alert!).
I wrote this story during second quarter 2021.
Background
This story came from a one-word prompt, when I was writing every day and creating random prompts in alphabetical order. This prompt was the word Jazz.
So, what better place to convey the prompt word than New Orleans? And then the plot took a few weird turns.
Plot
As the last of the human race dies out due to the effects of a virus meant to only kill rodents, the anti-Adam and Eve meet for one last song. One last riff.
Characters
The characters are the Saxophone Woman (not-Sally) and the Tambourine Guy (not-Lloyd). Plus the countless dogs and cats still alive, haunting the streets of New Orleans.
Memorable Quotes
“Pretty soon, there won’t be any more language. Except for dolphins, I guess. We should’ve been cetaceans. No opposable thumbs, no civilization. But at least no self-inflicted genocide.”
The stranger touches the instrument’s keys. “Then again, no saxophones, either. Whatever will some future alien explorers think of us? What fossils will we leave? Will it be the grillwork fences here on Bourbon Street, rusted to a fare-thee-well? Bones for my chorus’s dinner? The marble mausoleums? Stone and bone, I bet. Crumbling, rusty dust where there were once cars, and buildings. And, hell, clipboards and knitting needles. All the ephemera of our existence. Gone, like swallows at the end of summer.” A few coughs.
“Yes, yes, I am well aware that I’m being dramatic. But I don’t think overly so. After all, the end is nigh. If I can’t get bombastic now, then when can I?”
A jangle.
“What was that?”
The stranger glances around and spots a dog that still has its collar and tags. The stranger kneels, knees cracking. “C’mere! Come on! Good doggie. Good doggie.”
The dog trots over, its matted reddish-brown fur daubed with mud. “Just a sec.” The stranger unbuckles the collar and reads from the tags. “Rusty. You’re a good dog, Rusty ole pal.”
Another jangle.
The stranger freezes. In a moment, trembling, she straightens up. “More collars, I bet. Well, I suppose there are worse ways to spend your last hours. I can spend mine freeing Fido and Spot from the oppressive yoke of ownership. Humanity in our final moments goes commie. Who’d’ve thunk it?”
More jangling. But this time, in a semblance of rhythm.
Trembling, the stranger calls out, “Who’s there?” And then, thinking better of it, the stranger blows a few notes on the sax. An old song by Bob Dylan. “… there ain’t no place I’m going to.”
A pause.
“Ain’t that the truth?”
Rating for And the Band Played the Apocalypse
The story has a K rating. While the prospect of the end of the world is always going to be unsettling, the characters do their best to make do in a bad situation. Nothing violent happens ‘on screen’.
Takeaways for And the Band Played the Apocalypse
I think my biggest takeaway is that inspiration can strike in all sorts of wacky and unexpected ways.
As writers, everyone tells us to read—constantly—and this story is proof of that concept. Essentially, you can get ideas this way. And in the case of this particular story, my memory of the myth I had read during my childhood came in handy a good four decades later.
Want More of my Short Stories and Novellas?
If this story resonates with you, then check out my other articles about my shorter works.
Short Stories
Finally, for a complete list of my shorter works, please be sure to check out the Hub Page—Short Stories.