Take Shelter: a story in 60 seconds

"I've had a lot of worries in my life, most of which never happened." --Mark Twain

He stood on the deck facing the backyard and stared at a wide patch of freshly turned soil. After months of construction, his safety cellar was finally complete. Building it cost a small fortune, and he was forced to liquidate a sizeable chunk of his 401K, but his family's wellbeing was well worth the expense.  

He heard the crunch of gravel and knew his wife had just pulled into the driveway. He waited a few minutes before calling out.

“Girls, come out here! It’s finally ready!”

Eventually, the door to the back deck slid open, and his wife and daughter joined him outside. He put his arm around them and hugged them close.

“Look,” he said, pointing out toward the yard. “Isn’t it spectacular?”

His daughter shrugged. “I don’t see anything. It just looks like a pile of dirt to me.”

“It’s what’s beneath the dirt, sweetheart,” he said cooly.

“I’m sure it’s wonderful, dear,” his wife added, squeezing his elbow. “I know you’ve put a lot of time and research into it, and we’re both very grateful.”

She cast a sideways glance at her daughter before kissing her husband on the cheek.

“Yeah, Dad. Now, if there’s a nuclear fallout, we can suffer through it as a family.”

“Alright,” he murmured. “Poke fun all you want, but I don’t think the impending apocalypse is something to laugh about. You’ve heard the news lately…”

His wife nodded. “There’s certainly a lot to fear…Between the pandemics, the hurricanes, and the civil unrest, I’d say it’s an excellent time for a bomb shelter.”

“Let’s call it a survival bunker, honey. Bomb shelter is such an outdated term…”

She smiled at her husband politely, and the three stood in contemplative silence until a bird squawked in a nearby tree.

“So…do you guys want to see inside?”

“Ugh, Dad. No, it’s so creepy.”

“It’s not creepy. It’s essentially an underground apartment. It has an air filtration system, a toilet, a sink, a bunk bed…Not to mention enough MREs to last a lifetime.”

“Fine,” his daughter sighed. “Let’s see the bunker.”

Her dad smiled. “Okay, follow me.”

The three of them headed back inside and down a set of stairs. Toward the back wall of the basement was a rust-colored bulkhead. He pulled at the handles, revealing a narrow concrete passageway below. They descended another short staircase until they reached a large steel door decorated with bolts and various latching mechanisms.

The daughter shuddered. “Why is it so cold down here?”

“Because we’re underground,” her dad replied as he fiddled around with the locks. “Just give me one second to figure this out…”

His wife and daughter waited a few minutes as he turned and tinkered with the gears. Finally, the door opened, its hermetic seal releasing with a woosh.

“Alright, come on,” he said, grinning.  

He stepped inside the small, stuffy room. His wife trailed behind him, then his daughter, who inadvertently swung the door shut. It closed with a loud click. He tried flicking on the light. Nothing happened. The three of them stood submerged in total darkness. There was some clanging, followed by a whimper.  

“Dad…” his daughter said weakly. “I can’t open the door...”

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