The Mask
Edward wiped the sweat from his slick brow, breath coming in laboured gasps as he kept his relentless pace. Everyone had mandated exercise hours, but he continued to push himself. In part to keep routine – something familiar to anchor himself. But another more compelling reason, Diane thought, was rooted in anger, or perhaps sadness.
The timer beeped another half hour and Diane watched Edward step off the treadmill. He removed his oxygen mask and quickly wiped his face before carefully placing it over his nose and mouth once more. Its tight fit continued to provide purified air, even after years of use, and the crisp “CSL Approved Oxygen Mask” etched on the exterior of each one was still visible.
Oxygen, a fundamental block of life, so essential to our survival, and yet taken for granted. Until it was gone. The official story was that climate change, among other ecological factors, had caused the air to become toxic. Whether or not it was the truth, Edward didn’t know.
“Why did he give it up? There were options, you know. Why did he give up his mask?”
They were going to have this conversation again. “I know you’re upset, and I know you loved your father very much. But it’s been four years. Nothing more will come of this, Ed,” said Diane.
“I just–I won’t do that to Jerome…” Edward took a deep breath. “Why did it have to be that way?” Diane saw Edward closing his eyes, as if to focus hard. He tried not to show it, but the sadness of his father’s sacrifice still hung heavy.
Long gone were the days of running through the hills and forests. Once it had become too toxic to breathe the air, someone had to take charge. Oxygen masks were distributed, schedules assigned, routine check ups were performed. But in a small town far from everything else, like Hope, there was only so much support to be provided.
Hope. Wasn’t that ironic? It seemed like what Edward needed woven into everything around him.
Vancouver, a lone bastion of safety still stood – its towering skyline a distant promise.
6 years later
Edward, Diane and Jerome, now a young boy, prepared to say their goodbyes. The journey to Vancouver would be long, but Edward had insisted. He wouldn’t make the same mistake his father had, not when there were other options, however slim.
His father had given up his mask, thinking it was for the best, that someone younger should have it. Edward had watched as his father’s strength faded. His closest friend slipped away day by day, until he was gone. Edward swore to himself to never put his family through that.
Diane was expecting and with another life on the way, came the demand for another mask. One which was out there, but beyond their grasp. They had delayed long enough. Waiting any longer would make the trip too dangerous. They’d collected their belongings making sure nothing important was left behind and prepared for the journey that lay just two days ahead.
They slept, woke, packed, and slept again. When the sun rose, they departed, bags in tow.
It was said that Vancouver still produced oxygen masks. CSL Oxygen Masks. The only ones that still worked. Within a year of The Collapse, more than half the equipment available had failed.
Within 5 years, only a fraction still remained, and after a decade CSL Oxygen Masks were the only ones left. The only design with the capacity to keep people safe in the face of uncertainty.
Everyone knew CSL masks were designed to last forever, to provide sterile, filtered air indefinitely. They were assured to last forever… Unless.
Unless the filter is not cleaned once every 60 days.
Unless the breathing tube is left exposed for more than 30 minutes in a day.
Unless the strap is attached with more than two fingers of wiggle room.
Unless the tubing is not emptied every eight days.
Unless the mask is exposed to temperature deltas over 30 degrees Celsius in four hours.
Unless the contact pad is not replaced every two years.
Another 3 years later
Diane sat with Jerome, the faint smell of dried wood lingering in the air, as she read The Story of the World. The worn pages crinkled softly under her fingers, a familiar sound that brought a sense of comfort. It was his favourite book, and Diane didn’t mind reading it again.
Where so much had been lost, books remained treasures, resilient in their own way. Left out in the open, their pages would slowly decay, but kept closed, they had endured nearly a quarter century and were still intact.
Edward sat nearby, helping little Isabel, now two and half, with her colouring book. Every so often, he handed her a new colour, watching as she scribbled with abandon. She had a fierce independence about her, refusing to be constrained by the lines on the page.
Her drawings were a chaotic mess of overlapping colours and shapes, but Edward cherished every one of them. He kept all her creations, as if holding on to those scribbles was his way of preserving her innocent spirit.
Jerome would be turning eleven years old next week. A quiet pride simmered within Edward; he had made the right choice back then. Despite everything, they had made it, and they were happy.
Jerome didn’t know it yet, but Edward and Diane had planned a beach day for his birthday, complete with an improvised raft and sailing. It wasn’t much, but in this world, it was everything. History was one Jerome’s favourite topics, especially the stories of explorers and their daring voyages. Jerome might never get the chance to see those far-off places, but they hoped that his birthday voyage, however humble, would let Jerome feel like he was part of the great journeys he so often read about.
Isabel was big enough now to wear a mask of her own. The masks were their lifeline, holding their fragile existence between them.
Below the CSL insignia, a short description of the instructions for use was included, followed by the six defeaters they all knew by heart.
It felt redundant to have them printed everywhere, but in a world where survival depended on strict adherence to these rules, it made a grim sort of sense. It wasn’t the life he had once imagined, but it was theirs, and that was enough.
Another 28 years later
Edward wiped away a tear and forced a smile, as he looked at the small group gathered before him. These were the people that made him happy, that gave his life meaning, and he knew his heart was full. There was nowhere else Edward would rather be.
Jerome and Isabel were all grown up. Jerome stood to his left with his wife and their young son, while Isabel was on his right with her husband and little Margaret. Margaret would soon have a brother, another grandchild for Edward.
It weighed heavily on Edward that he wouldn’t be around to watch his grandson grow up, but it felt right. A bittersweet, but necessary, passing of the torch. Life was short for everyone, but he felt it now most of all. He gave his speeches and said his goodbyes and he removed the mask that had kept him alive all these years and laid it down beside him.
The decision had not come easily. He had talked it over with Jerome and Isabel many times, revisiting the memories of his father’s own sacrifice so long ago. Back then, he had sworn he would never do the same, but that was another lifetime. Times had changed, Edward had changed, and he knew this was what he wanted to do.
Long gone were the days when you could buy CSL Oxygen Masks. Many things had vanished over the years, their absence felt keenly by those left behind. But the CSL masks were made to last, with the utmost care and dedication to safety, designed to weather even the harshest conditions.
Edward’s father had always said that nothing lasts forever. That hearing the same joke too many times made it stale, that a song played on repeat would eventually lose its charm. But here, in this moment, surrounded by his family, Edward realised that he had two things that were made to last. He had a mask, and he had a family. People never grew old, at least not in the ways that truly mattered.
He closed his eyes. Forever wasn’t about objects or possessions. It was about the connections we make, the moments we share, and how we live on in the hearts of those who come after us.
1460 words
August 23, 2024
all-stories