The Big Blind Bear in the Bunker

Read it to your children

GENDARME STRAUSS

And so it went that Nurse Mary, as busy as ever, swept and dusted the amphitheater known to her and the other bunker inhabitants simply as "Circus." Her headlamp cast soft, blurred halos of light that wavered with each step. It offered just enough visibility to outline nearby objects, but it wasn’t meant for seeing clearly —it merely softened the shadows, making the darkness feel more comforting.

Afterward, Nurse Mary grabbed her bucket and brush and washed the bleachers. She scrubbed vigorously, forming red bubbles, and although the stains didn’t fully come out, she was pleased enough to move on. 

“We mold to the murk!” She said on her way out. 

Nurse Mary switched off her headlamp, having long since adjusted to the bunker’s constant gloom. Confidently navigating the shadowy corridors without touching the walls, she reached the Stink-Free Zone, where she crouched down and began to tidy up the ever-finicky air filtration system. With the patience of someone who had done this many times before, she wiped away dust and tightened loose bolts. The machine rattled as if it begrudged her touch, but she knew that neglecting it could turn the whole bunker into a hotbed of foul odors. As she cleaned inside one of the ducts, her hand brushed against an unexpected object: a small, blackened toy animal with big eyes and a pair of antlers.

“Who would lose such a moose?” She asked.

She walked past the Choo-Choo Chamber, where the power room machinery flashed and flickered like a disco ball. She walked past the Express to Nowhere, a freight elevator with an accordion gate that led to the Spiritual Sinkhole below and the Old Kingdom Upstairs. She walked past the H2-Oh! Room where the water filtration happened, and she walked past the Grizzly Grotto and heard the beast growling behind the iron portal. Finally, she returned to the Brainbox, the bunker’s hub. A worn, barely visible sign hung crookedly above the door: “Dig Deep, Aim High!” 

As she entered, Nurse Mary covered her eyes with her arm. To her, the light from that single fluorescent tube was stark and clinical, casting a cold, sterile incandescence and illuminating everything in unforgiving detail. She rubbed her eyes and squinted until she adapted. As expected, Gendarme Strauss was listening to the vents. Thick bandages covered his eyes.

“The shooting still going. I can hear it through the vents,” he said.

“The lights are getting so bright in here,” Nurse Mary said.

“The bombing still going, too.”

“Blessed end of the fifth cycle,” she said.

“Blessed end of the fifth, yes. It’s that time again, is it?” 

“It’s a special time.”

“All days are special, which is the same as saying that no days are special.”

“Would you like for me to change those bandages?” She asked.

“I’m better like this. They give me comfort,” he said, adjusting them.

“It is getting brighter in here somehow,” she said.

“I can’t tell the difference anymore. Have you gone to the Snuggeries yet?”

“Not yet. I was cleaning the Stink Free Zone and found this,” she handed him the stuffed animal. “What do you think it means?”

Strauss carefully moved his fingers over it, trying to make sense of its shape. “Feels like a toy,” he said.

“Yeah, but who and why and how and when?” She asked.

“Indeed. Indeed. We have ourselves a mystery,” he said.

“Have you heard anything through the vents?”

“The Groveltons are sore with the Dustmoors over a stink coming through the vents, and the Rockstones are expecting two newborns anytime now. The Penfellers are accusing the Spooners of Spin Sauce, and I heard the good old doctor practicing his flute.”

“Same, same then,” she said.

“Same, same, which is not bad, but not good either. It just is.”

“Still, we must dig deep, aim high, and discover who and why and how and when!” She said.

“All mysteries will get solved eventually. Unless they don’t,” Strauss said.

“What a blessed life we have,” Nurse Mary said.

“Lucky, lucky we are, although we wouldn’t know the difference otherwise,” he said.

“How do you mean?” She asked.

“You don’t know what you don’t know,” he said.

Nurse Mary dusted around the room. “Is that a new book?” She asked.

“It’s from the good doctor.” Strauss got his nose close to the page and lifted his bandage. “Nice pictures, as far as I can tell.”

“Have you asked him to teach you to read?”

“I doubt he’ll be as patient with me as he has been with you,” he said.

“I wish you would ask him.”

“I’ll ask him when I find the time. There’s been more shooting lately.”

“Is that even possible?”

“How two groups of people can amass such firepower, I don’t know.”

“What magnificent hearing you have,” she said. “I wish I could hear all the way up to the Old Kingdom Upstairs!”

“And I wish I could have your eyes,” he said.

“I’m starting to do things with my eyes closed, so I don’t know if that’d be a good trade. What’s your book about?”

“It’s from the Old Kingdom Upstairs,” Strauss picked it up and showed her a picture. “The good doctor told me that’s a bridge that goes over a river, and that’s a castle at the top of a hill. But I don’t know what any of those things are.”

“Let me see,” Nurse Mary grabbed the book, blinked repeatedly, and focused on the cover. “PR… PRAU… PRAUGU… PRAGUE. It’s from the Old Kingdom Upstairs, of that we can be sure.”

“The Good Doctor said it’s a book used by journeyers,” he said.

“Everything is so colorful and bright! The place looks so… so… so not like here,” Nurse Mary said.

“Who knows if Prague ever existed? It could be Spin Sauce,” he said.

“But why would Dr. Bloom lend you a bogus book then?”

“The book is real, but the things inside might not be. Sort of like that book he read to us about clouds. Can you trust clouds are real? The mere thought of it gives me Inner Tangle.”

“Why would anyone make a whole book and fill its pages with Spin Sauce?”

“That’s the thing about Spin Sauce. You believe it’s true even if it’s not.”

“Anything else before I go?”

Gendarme Strauss put his ear to the vent, and he hummed and mumbled the secrets he heard. “People are getting antsy about the Sing Ring,” he said. Then, he was quiet and paid close attention. “Someone’s missing,” he said. “A little one.”

---

---

THE GROVELTONS

Nurse Mary opened the gateway to the Snuggeries and walked down the long hallway, passing many metal doors until she reached the Groveltons. She opened the door, and the weak lightbulb flickered on, revealing a rectangular sunken pit. The dim, brownish light barely illuminated their tired, grimy faces as they slowly lifted their heads. They were hairless and pale, like worms accustomed to the scent of the underground soil and the texture of cold, damp rocks.

The Groveltons —dozens of them— stood shoulder to shoulder in the cramped, airless room, their bodies swaying slightly. The walls pressed in on them as there was no space to sit, walk, or lie down. Their eyes were foggy and pale, with a distant, vacant gaze. They lacked the tracking movement of sighted eyes, exuding a serene quality, as though they relied entirely on their other senses and didn’t mind their dark surroundings.

“Blessed end of the fifth cycle!” Nurse Mary said.

“Blessed indeed. How nice to hear your voice,” Gordy Grovelton said. “Shooting still going on, it sounds like.”

“Sounds like it. How is everyone doing down there, Mr. Grovelton?”

“Grateful to be alive,” he said.

“No deaths?”

“Grandma is still with us. She complains about her feet bloating, but you know how it is.”

“I’m happy to be standing where I stand,” Grandma Grovelton said.

“Have you guys made your selection for the Sing Ring, Mr Grovelton?” Nurse Mary asked.

“I think we’re going with Gideon, but we’re still mulling it over,” he said.

“Have you finished polishing your stone?” Nurse Mary asked.

“The twins Gary and Grover have been polishing it the whole cycle, and in our humble opinion, it’s not going to get any rounder,” Gordy Grovelton said.

“We are confident and hopeful Quentin the Counter will choose our stone for the Sing Ring,” Gertie Grovelton said.

“Any births?” Nurse Mary asked.

“Ginny had her baby,” Gertie Grovelton said. “And Gloria, Gilly, Gracie, and Ginny should be due any moment now.”

“I don’t see Ginny. Where is she?” Nurse Mary asked, and Ginny, standing in a corner, lifted a newborn over her head. “What a blessing! Life is so precious,” Nurse Mary said.

“Life is precious!” Ginny said.

“Nurse Mary, we are grateful. Very grateful and blessed we are, but we heard through the vents that the Dustmoors have more spacious chambers. We believe this to be true, so we’d like you to speak with Dr. Bloom and arrange for us to swap chambers with the Dustmoors since we have newborns now and more on the way.”

“Of course, I can talk to Dr. Bloom, but know that the Dustmoors have the same chamber space as you and the other families here —and theirs are as full as yours.”

“We burrow deep and rise high,” Gertie Grovelton said.

“We bend with the tunnels,” Gordy Grovelton said.

“Spin Sauce!” Said one of the younglings.

“Guga!” Gertie Grovelton yelled.

“But I heard it on the vents,” Guga Grovelton said.

“Guga speaks the truth,” Mr. Grovelton said. “He heard that the Dustmoors are making room in their chambers by placing their dead inside the vents. And you can smell it, right? It reeks of death in here!”

“Rest assured, it’s in the best interest of the bunker to hand in your dead, so I’ll look into it,” Nurse Mary said.

“Blessed you are, Nurse Mary,” Mr. Grovelton said.

She brought her index finger to her forehead as a sign of appreciation. “So all Groveltons, old and new, accounted for?” Nurse Mary asked.

“I would know if we weren’t all here,” he said.

“I heard that there’s a little one missing, but maybe it’s just Spin Sauce,” Nurse Mary said.

“That’s the thing about Spin Sauce: you believe it when it’s false, and you don’t when it’s true.”

“Anyone here lost a moose?” Nurse Mary asked.

“What is a moose?”

“It’s a toy.” The room went silent. “Okay, then. I’ll accept your stone now. Who has been entrusted to hand it over?”

The twins Gary and Grover raised their hands.

“You may toss it now,” Nurse Mary said.

“But last time, it hit you in the face,” Gary said.

“Maybe I should turn the light off this time.” She flipped the switch, and the chambers went dark. Grover popped his arm up, torqued his body, and threw the stone at Nurse Mary. The Groveltons heard her catch it and gave her a Huzzah!

“Huzzah back to you, blessed Groveltons! Your stone will make its way to Quentin the Counter intact, of that you can be sure,” she said.

---

THE DUSTMOORS

Nurse Mary swung open the metal door to a sunken triangular pit, unveiling a multitude of Dustmoors huddled tightly together. The Dustmoors were sweaty, grimy, and sightless—just like the Groveltons—but with a couple of differences: their faces were smeared in a deep crimson red, a marker of loss. They swayed as one, their dance rhythmic and guided by the currents of their sorrow. It was a familiar sight to Nurse Mary, who waited for them to complete their mourning ritual. She admired their coordination and how each movement flowed into the next despite their cramped formation. The humming echoed off the walls, filling the air with grief. The ritual concluded with a collective exhalation as if they were releasing the weight of their loss into the upper vents.

“In the deepest shadows, we are not alone,” Nurse Mary said.

“Your voice reaches us,” Dario Dustmoor said as he brought the index finger to his forehead. “Our dear Damara is survived by her husband, Dustin, and their three children, Diamanta, Desidero, and Delyth,” he said.

“I will take Damara whenever you’re ready,” Nurse Mary said, pressing a button and lowering the hooks. The Dustmoors hooked the body and tugged at the ropes. As Damara's corpse was lifted, Nurse Mary noticed no blood dripping from the hooks, indicating that all the blood had been used to paint their faces.

“We did have one birth. A little one that goes by Dionne,” Dario Dustmoor said.

“Life is precious,” Nurse Mary said.

“The shooting still going?” Dario Dustmoor asked.

“Still going, it seems like.”

“We are concerned about the putrid odor coming from the vents,” he said.

“It’s the Rockstones!” Delphine Dustmoor said.

“Forgive my wife’s candor,” Dario Dustmoor said, “but she knows this to be true.”

“And all of you Dustmoors are accounted for?” Nurse Mary asked.

“The ones that do not stand in the shadows, we place on the hooks,” Dario Dustmoor said.

“Blessed are you. I will collect your stone now,” Nurse Mary said.

“It is the roundest of them all,” Delphine Dustmoor said.

“I bet it is!” After Nurse Mary grabbed the stone, she closed the door and loaded Damara’s body onto the cart. 

---

---

THE ROCKSTONES

Nurse Mary visited the Penfellers, the Nethercliffs, the Gloomfoots, the Murktides, the Tunneltons, and the Spooners. They all reported a foul smell from the vents, but none were missing. She collected the dead and their round stone entry for the Sing Ring and congratulated them on their births. It was not until she talked to the Rockstones that Nurse Mary encountered a different tale. 

“These three nincompoops did it. Come on, tell her,” Roland Rockstone said. Randy, Rocky, and Riannon raised their hand slowly.

“Who is missing?” Nurse Mary asked.

“We placed little Rommy in the vents,” Randy said.

“But we tied a string to his foot. To pull him back in here,” Rocky said.

“We just wanted our ball back,” Riannon said.

“Can little Rommy walk or talk yet?” Nurse Mary said. They shook their heads.

“When we pulled the string, little Rommy was gone,” Randy said.

“And we didn’t get our ball back,” Rocky said.

“Why would you need a ball with so many of you barely able to fit standing up?” Nurse Mary asked.

“We manage to make it work,” Riannon said.

“I suppose we all do,” Nurse Mary said.

“It’s hard to control the teens from getting each other pregnant as it is,” Roland Rockstone said.

“It’s just the way we are,” Randy said.

“I will check the vent maps after I deliver the dead.”

“Blessed are you, Nurse Mary,” Regina Rockstone said.

“Dig deep, aim high, Rockstones. We shall have little Rommy back before the Sing Ring,” Nurse Mary said.

---

THE SPIRITUAL SINKHOLE

Nurse Mary pushed the cart of dead bodies out of the Snuggeries and took a right on the Tunnel of Spades. She rolled the cart past the Don’t Touch That! Room of Buttons until she reached the Express to Nowhere, where she pulled a lever and descended into the Spiritual Sinkhole. 

The Spiritual Sinkhole was an enormous gash in the earth, its jagged edges crumbling into the depths, the true extent of which was known only to Dr. Ignatius Bloom. From the darkness within rose a relentless dissonance of life. Millions of roaches, worms, and other creeping insects writhed and churned, filling the air with a constant rustling. Countless legs scuttled over one another, amplified by the echoing void of the hole. Despite the volume, there was a cadence —a steady, soothing flow echoing like a grim lullaby. The sinkhole was murmuring, its relentless, crawling mass undulating. Nurse Mary stood at the edge, staring into the abyss, knowing this was the final resting place for the corpses she had collected —the sinkhole’s endless maw awaited them with patience. She pushed the cart upward, and bodies tumbled down. The hole swallowed them immediately, provoking a sudden surge of movement —thousands shifting direction— creating a scratching hiss, like grinding small pieces of glass against stone.

“We shift with the shadows,” she said.

---

THE COUNTER’S NOOK

Nurse Mary returned to the main floor and stopped at the Counter’s Nook, a closet-sized space where Quentin the Counter lived. She knocked and waited until she heard a bang from the other side —her signal that it was safe to open the door. Quentin was a small, frail figure who resided in his dark nook, perpetually hunched over as if he'd been carved into the wall itself. His skin was so pale and translucent that his veins were visible. Although his body was hairless, his most distinguishing feature was a large, bushy mustache, which jutted out in every direction, a burst of whiskers that rose slightly with every breath. His eyes were sightless, clouded over with a milky film, but his fingers were sensitive, adept at feeling even the slightest imperfections in the stones he handled. He moved with slow precision, each gesture reflecting years of practice.

“Happy end of the fifth cycle!” Nurse Mary said.

“We don’t have much time. People will be ready for the Sing Ring soon,” Quentin said.

Nurse Mary unloaded all the stones, making sure each was marked correctly. Quentin couldn’t resist running his fingers over each stone as his mustache swayed from side to side. “Oooooooooh! Oooooooooh! My, my, my!” he said with excitement. “We have worthy entries this end of the fifth! So many rounded round ones,” he said and then dismissed her with a wave as he had much work to do.

---

DOCTOR IGNATIUS BLOOM

The walls of Dr. Ignatius Bloom’s apartment were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves packed with volumes on every subject, giving the place the ambiance of a grand library. At its center lay a luxurious living room, anchored by a worn-out rug portraying scenes from the Old Kingdom Upstairs. In one corner, a map room held ancient, detailed charts depicting unknown lands and bodies of water. Shelves displayed an array of compasses, clocks, telescopes, and an astrolabe, each adorned with precious stones and gold leaf, now muted from lack of polish. The room's centerpiece was an elegant candelabra hanging from the ceiling, its branches curling like a tree of light. Yet candles were a thing of the past. Instead, a contraption fueled by insect protein cast a flickering light, sending shadows dancing across the walls and giving an air of dread to the faded ceiling mural of unidentifiable Greek gods.

Dr. Bloom’s apartment was undoubtedly an oasis of luxury and intellect compared to the starkness of the bunker. Yet, the relics and knowledge were useless trinkets in these living conditions, and the place had seen its best days decades ago.

Dr. Bloom's hair stuck out in every direction, and dark sunglasses perched on his nose.

“All ready for Circus?” He asked.

“All ready, Dr. Bloom!” Nurse Mary said.

“I’ve asked you to call me Iggy,” he said.

“Sure!”

“Another cycle ends. Can you believe it?” he said.

“We do have one issue,” Nurse Mary said.

“I’ve only known about the Old Kingdom Upstairs through books and the tales my family had passed on through generations,” Dr. Bloom said. “But now everyone is gone, and my sight is faltering. I seem to have reached a dead end.”

“The shooting will stop,” Nurse Mary said.

“And nothing will probably be left of the Old Kingdom Upstairs.”

“Something will,” she said.

“Mountains of lead and blackened land, probably.”

“We’ll mold to the mold!”

“Our eyes and skin would probably burn off with the sunlight.”

“We will dwell in our depths then,” she said.

“How is your sight, Mary?”

“Glorious in the Gloom! This place gets brighter and brighter.”

“You are radiant, Mary.”

“We do have one pressing matter, Dr. Bloom.”

“Call me Iggy.”

“A little Rockstone has been journeying on the vents, and I’d like to look at the maps. I fear the little one might get lost and fall into the Grizzly Grotto,” she said.

“He’s perfectly fine. I found him earlier.”

“You did? Blessed are you, Dr. Bloom!”

“Iggy.”

“Sure!”

“I was thinking of keeping him.”

“But the little one already has parents.”

“I don’t know how old I am, but I know I’m changing. And when I’m gone, who will inherit the legacy of the Bloom family?”

“You need to dig deep and aim high, Dr. Bloom.”

“I’ll return the little one if you burrow with me,” he said.

“Now you want to spread Inner Tangle onto me!” 

“I want us to be a family,” he said.

“This place needs me as I am.”

“I’ll train someone else to do your role.”

“Who?”

“Someone who can see.”

“And who would that be?”

“There are always outliers who struggle to adapt.”

“Are you calling me an outlier?”

“Of course not. I’ve noticed you prefer the darkness now.”

“You need to stop spreading Spin Sauce.”

“I have a better idea. Us three could be a family; otherwise, I have no choice but to marry someone from one of the families.”

“You will sow unevenness and Inner Tangle among them.”

“Then it has to be you,” Dr. Bloom said.

“We’ve had this same chitter-chatter before.”

“Can you at least call me Iggy?”

“I will if you return the little one.”

“It’s up to you.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s back there,” he said.

“Where? I don’t see anyone.”

“He’s in a good place,” he said.

“What place would that be?” She asked.

“I don’t know. I did try looking for him,” Dr. Bloom said.

“You didn’t find the little one?”

“He’ll be fine in the vents.”

“So much Spin Sauce coming from you. Why and how, and what and when?” Nurse Mary asked.

“We’ll look for him after the Sing Ring together, I promise.”

---

THE BEAR

Circus was a wonder of the underground world: a spiraling, tiered amphitheater carved from the bunker's very stone. Although there were benches, the families filled each level and stood silently, shoulder to shoulder, in their designated spots, crammed against each other like statues. They waited in silence for Sing Ring to start. 

Circus, as usual, was shrouded in darkness. Then, at the bottom, a glimmering lantern cast a light that barely reached the audience —more of a gesture rather than a necessity. Dr. Bloom raised the lantern, and everyone remained still. He looked around as if needing to ensure his presence was acknowledged.

“Happy End of the Fifth Cycle!” He yelled.

“Happy, happy!” Everyone yelled back. 

“Welcome to Circus. Welcome to the Sing Ring!” 

Everyone clapped. Quentin the Counter entered the ring with Nurse Mary and Gendarme Strauss, each holding one end of a large tub containing the stones. 

"Quentin," Dr. Bloom said, "have you had sufficient time to grade the stones and assess their quality?"

“Everyone did a commendable job,” Quentin said.

“Do you have any doubts about which five are the selected winners?”

“No Inner Tangle in me.” Quentin went to the bucket and grabbed five stones. He placed each of them next to a marked spot in the center of the ring. “Here are the roundest of the round, cataloged by optimal diameter, heft, and smoothness.”

“Quentin, who will join us for Sing Ring?” Dr. Bloom asked.

Quentin set his foot on each stone as he pronounced the corresponding name. “Chimerians, Groveltons, Penfellers, Tunneltons, and Vaultiers!”

Amid the echoing applause inside the Circus, a representative from each family stepped forward into the ring, taking their place behind their stone. Only when the applause ended did Dr. Bloom continue:

“You know how this goes.

As soon as the iron portal swings wide,

You must sing —there’s nowhere to hide.

The lady bear will emerge to judge your voice;

She might sniff you, taste you, or make no choice.

She may feast, or she may spare;

It depends on your pitch, cadence, and flair.

Will you quiver? Will you shake?

Your fate is sealed in the song you make,

For the lady bear will only one take."

Dr. Bloom, Nurse Mary, Quentin the Counter, and Gendarme Strauss stepped outside the ring. Clanks and thuds pounded through the space as the iron portal unlocked, followed by the heavy creaking of the rusty hinges scraping against each other. As dark as Sing Ring was, the darkest portion of Circus came from inside Grizzly Grotto. The bear emerged from its cave, moving slowly into the dim light of the ring. The five contestants began to sing in unison, their arms stiff at their sides. They found each other's volume and tone, their voices trembling yet unwavering. 

The singers worked together to improve their harmony as the bear’s immense frame swayed with each step, its eyes dull and clouded, advancing toward the center of the ring. Low growls rumbled from the beast as it dipped its head, swaying as if discerning each singer's vocal range. Its nostrils flared as it neared Phineas Penfeller, and without warning, the bear’s jaws snapped open and clamped down on his skull. His cries were quickly drowned out by the sound of flesh tearing and bone snapping as the bear ripped his head clean off.

Patiently, the beast dismembered the body limb by limb and then stood, the Penfeller torso dangling from its maw. With a violent shake, it flung blood across the ring, splattering the remaining contestants and some on the audience. The bear devoured the remains while keeping its ears tuned to the surviving singers, who, undeterred, raised their voices, singing even louder.

The bear, now bloodied, moved to the next singer and then the one after, each time repeating its ritual of sniffing, growling, and ripping into the victim. They all struggled to maintain the melody as the bear sank its teeth into them —and before the fifth pass at the chorus, Gideon Grovelton, Cordelia Chimerian, and Tullia Tunnelton were no more. 

"The lady bear was unusually judgmental tonight," Dr. Bloom remarked. "But there you have it, families! Vera Vaultier is Sing Ring's clear winner! Only one question remains: will she hit the target in the Old Kingdom Upstairs?"

Vera Vaultier hit the highest note to mark her victory —and a sustained, beautiful note it was. But she was cut short, and just as Dr. Bloom was about to elicit a triumphant "huzzah!" from the audience, the bear swiped with its paw, tearing Vera’s head off in a single, brutal motion. What followed was a dreadful silence that grew with each moment. 

“I’ve never seen this before,” Dr. Bloom whispered. “The lady bear always chooses one.”

“Life is precious,” Nurse Mary said.

Perhaps Nurse Mary spoke too loudly because the bear turned toward her, ignoring what was left of Vera’s Vaultier’s head. It approached Nurse Mary, its muzzle smeared with gore. Nurse Mary shut her eyes as the bear inched closer, bracing for the inevitable. Dr. Bloom had nothing to say this time and quietly stepped back. But instead of the expected bite, Nurse Mary felt a rough, warm sensation on her cheek —a lick.

With that, the bear turned away, dragging the remains of Vera Vaultier’s body back to the depths of its cave. Before Dr. Bloom could react, everyone at Circus erupted in celebration. He glanced around in confusion, but the bear had made its choice, and he saw no alternative but to proceed with the ceremony. He walked to the center of the ring, displaying a crooked smile that only Nurse Mary noticed. 

“This is unprecedented, but the lady bear has spoken!”

“Not Nurse Mary,” Strauss yelled. “The shooting is worse than ever!”

“You can’t pick her. She didn’t sing!” Quentin said.

“We must adapt to change just like we’ve always done,” Dr. Bloom said.

“We bend like the tunnels!” The Murktides in the crowd yelled.

“We shift with the shadows!” The Nethercliffs said.

“We sway with the stone!” The Spooners said.

"And so," Dr. Bloom continued, "Nurse Mary, you will take the Express to Nowhere and head to the Old Kingdom Upstairs. You will take five stones with you and attempt to hit the target twenty feet south of you. To activate the mechanism, you must hit the bullseye, and since you can still see, you’ll be at a disadvantage —the brightness will be blinding and harsh, making it difficult to focus. You’ll have no more than forty-two seconds before they locate you and start shooting —and that's only if you're lucky enough to avoid the crossfire. Whatever happens, do not step out of the Express to Nowhere, or you’ll be completely exposed and defenseless. Any questions?”

"May I borrow your sunshades?" Nurse Mary asked.

"Excellent question!" Dr. Bloom replied, handing her his shades. “If you don’t hit the target, we will know, and if you do, well, you’ll be the first in… in how long?”

“Fifty-seven eras,” Quentin said.

“It will be a unique experience for us all,” Dr. Bloom said.

“Blessed are all of you,” Nurse Mary said, and all the attendants touched their foreheads with their index fingers. 

“Aim high, Mary,” Dr. Bloom said. "And may you bring back good news."

---

THE OLD KINGDOM UPSTAIRS

Gendarme Strauss and Quentin the Counter waved goodbye to Nurse Mary.

“In one state or another, I will see you soon,” Strauss said as the elevator’s accordion gate collapsed shut. 

The gears engaged, and the machinery began clicking and clacking. The atmosphere in Circus was thick with tension, and no one dared to speak. They waited over a minute for the alarm to signal that Nurse Mary had reached the surface. When it finally rang out, every citizen started counting. "Forty-two... Forty-one..." Their voices echoed in unison, each second ticking as if Nurse Mary’s fate hung on the numbers they chanted. "Twenty... Nineteen..." Everyone knew that if they reached zero, it would likely mean Nurse Mary had failed —and, more terrifyingly, that she was dead.

But then, at "Six... Five..." the bunker’s sound system crackled to life. First, a low roar rolled through the underground chamber, vibrating the walls. The crowd cut off their countdown as they listened to a loud crashing noise echoing through the bunker —the sound of waves smashing against large rocks. Gasps rippled through the crowd as droplets of water misted from the ceiling. The sprinkler system was activated, and everyone at Circus was gently sprayed with fresh water. They felt water falling from above for the first time, like the rain described in one of Dr. Bloom’s books.

Next, cries filled the air —high-pitched calls none had heard: seagulls. And then came some haunting songs filled with deep, soulful moans reverberating through the cavern —whales filled the space with their mournful, echoing calls. 

The sounds of dolphins followed: high-pitched squeals that seemed playful and otherworldly. Every person stood frozen, mouths agape, as the sounds of the vast, living ocean —the waves, the gulls, the whales, and the dolphins— swept through the bunker. They had lived their entire lives underground, and the soundscape around them was beyond comprehension.

At that moment, the citizens realized that Nurse Mary had succeeded. She had hit the target and, with it, unlocked the most significant surprise they had ever witnessed. Without having to organize, all members of the families swung from side to side, dancing in place as a sign of gratitude. They felt lucky and blessed to have Nurse Mary in their life. Dr. Bloom, too, enjoyed the spectacle so much he felt like he was part of one enormous family. 

The foreign sounds abruptly ceased with a crackle from the sound system, and the sprinklers shut off. Everyone was so absorbed in the experience that they failed to notice the Express to Nowhere quietly descending back into the bunker. When the elevator landed, the crowd erupted into cheers and applause. But their joy quickly faded when Dr. Bloom informed them that the elevator was empty.

No one dared approach the Express to Nowhere, murmuring instead from a distance about what might have happened.

"Did you hear any shooting?" Quentin asked Strauss.

"Me? No, I didn’t. Wait!" Strauss cupped his hand to his ear, straining to listen. “I can’t tell. I’m not close enough to the vents.”

Dr. Bloom was the first to step forward and inspect the elevator.

"Do you see any blood?" Quentin asked.

Dr. Bloom peered inside. "No blood, no bullet marks," he replied, then noticed something on the floor. "My sunshades," he muttered, picking them up and slipping them back on.

"But why, and how, and when, and where?" one of the Dustmoors shouted.

"Tell us where Nurse Mary went!" demanded a Gloomfoot.

"I don’t know where she went," Dr. Bloom admitted.

“Where is she?” Asked one of the Spooners. 

“I can’t say. Nobody has ever returned alive,” Dr. Bloom said.

"She wouldn’t have stepped into the shooting!" a Rockstone yelled.

“She’s certainly not that sort of person!” a Penfeller said.

“Maybe the shooting has stopped,” said a member of the Murktides.

"Has it? Has it stopped?" echoed one of the Tunneltons.

"I’m heading to the vents to find out if I hear anything," Strauss said.

The crowds slowly dispersed, splitting off into their family groups. They shuffled back to the Snuggeries, shoulder to shoulder, their heads hanging low.

"There’s much Inner Tangle," Quentin muttered to Dr. Bloom.

“We twist with the turns,” Dr. Bloom said. 

“You need to be more inspirational!” Quentin yelled.

Dr. Bloom thought for a moment before shouting, "Can anyone here see? Does anyone have functioning eyes? Who wants to be the new Nurse?"

But no one responded.

---

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

This story draws inspiration from an attitude I frequently encounter when I speak with people from Mexico. There is a contradiction in how they perceive the country's dramatic increase in cartel activity and crime in general. On one hand, Mexico has become far more dangerous than it was twenty-six years ago when I left. On the other hand, those friends and family I talk to act as though nothing is wrong —as if crime and corruption are merely another aspect of daily life. This strange dissonance —between acknowledging the escalating violence and pretending it’s nothing out of the ordinary— is a coping mechanism that, to me, highlights the behavior of a society that quietly accepts the unacceptable.

Mexico is not the only one: the planet keeps warming, processed foods are increasingly harmful, right-wing governments are gaining ground, public shootings, drug addiction, and homelessness are on the rise, and traffic congestion is growing unbearable. And we adapt to those conditions, too.

It occurred to me that while adaptability is a fundamental aspect of evolution, it can also lead us to tolerate deteriorating conditions instead of trying to improve them. We could end up spending our entire lives underground like worms until, one day, we become them without even noticing the difference.

---