The day was pleasant. Spring had brought the robins. Mary heard them flitting about among the branches of the crepe myrtle tree as she washed the breakfast dishes. Suddenly the stillness was shattered by the town siren. Mary dropped the plate she was holding.

"Damn!" she cursed. It was one of the Blue Willow pattern her mother had given her for a wedding gift.

Wiping her hands on a cup towel, Mary hurried into the living room. She switched on the old Magnavox and waited for the picture to appear. Maybe it's a storm warning, she thought. It couldn't be a fire; the alarm would have stopped by now if it were.

As her ancient set came to life a Civil Defense pattern hid the source of the recorded voice saying: "This is not a test. Take shelter immediately. The United States is under attack. I repeat this is not a test. Take shelter immediately."

"Oh my God! The children...Frank?" Mary stood frozen, her brain refused to assimilate the awful news.

Suddenly the old clapboard house rocked on its foundation, and Mary found herself on the floor. A blast of heat shot through the house. The morning sky turned blood red.

Mary felt as if her bones were bursting through taught, shrunken skin. She ignored the pain and dashed to the front door. "Peggy!" she screamed, as her next door neighbor staggered out of her house into the yard. "Peggy...the kids. We gotta go find the kids."

"What's happening?" Peggy cried back, "Is it a tornado? I had gone back to bed after getting the kids off to school."

"It's the bomb, Peggy! Oh sweet Jesus--" Mary felt as if a giant vortex was sucking her brain out of her skull. She didn't know what to do.

Running into the street, she headed for the small elementary school the children attended. Hurry, hurry, hurry, her mind screamed, Get the babies home.

Although Mary knew Peggy was stumbling along behind her, she didn't slow down for her friend to catch up. Friendship no longer seemed to matter anymore in the face of the oncoming holocaust.

"Mommy!" Robbie cried out in fear as Mary fought her way through the crowd of frightened children. The little boy wrapped his arms tightly around his mother.

"Where's Cathy? Where's your sister, Robbie?" Mary demanded as she pried his arms off her legs.

"Somebody stepped on me, Mommy." Robbie began sobbing, oblivious to his mother's demands.

"It's okay, darling, don't cry," Mary said as she gave him a quick look-over to make sure he was not injured. She planted both hands on his tiny shoulders and said, "Don't cry, honey, mommy needs you to help find your sister."

"Cathy," she began calling out over the din of terrified children. "Cathy, honey, where are you?"

It seemed an eternity before Mary found her daughter among the chaos. Running to her, she scooped her up into her arms and held her close in one arm while her free hand held tightly to her son.

"Come on children," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Let's get home."

The three of them took the back way home, cutting across yards, stamping through flower beds as shrubbery scratched their legs and arms. The children whined with fright and shock. She knew now was not the time to stop and console them. If she could get them back to the house, then she'd have time to think of what to do next.

She prayed Frank would be there by the time they got home. Surely he would leave the plant and come to them.

Reaching the house, Mary jerked the front door open and dragged the children inside. The horrifying Civil Defense pattern with its new nightmarish meaning flickered aross the screen. Suddenly a news bulletin exposing a frantic newscaster standing alone in a dishevelled room. The frightened man's voice could not be heard clearly over the loud static of chaos. All manners of professionalism seemed in the same state of existence as the shambled room.

Holding her children close, Mary dropped to the sofa, intent on what the newscaster was saying. Another blast interrupted him and shook the earth beneath them as the screen went blank. Violently, Mary and her children were thrown to the floor as a whirlwind of furnace-hot air swept through the house, taking their breaths with it. She feared the house was going to start burning with them in it.

When her head cleared, Mary crawled to where the children lay. They did not whine or cry any longer. Their shocked minds could not comprehend why they lay in a mess of broken glass and fallen plaster. They stared up at her. Their bodies too terrified to move, they just gazed around with a haunting look in their dilated eyes.

"Oh, my babies," Mary cried, pulling them to her bossom, thankful they were still alive. "Stay put," she ordered as she shoved them into a corner. "Momma will be right back."

Mary pulled herself erect and painfully stumbled to where the door once stood. Where the factory could be seen from her kitchen before now all she could see were flames and rubble.

"Frank," she cried, knowing that no one could survive such devastation. She knew her protector would not be coming to help them. The task of surviving had been transferred to her.

As she looked at her children huddled in the corner, Mary made her decision. she stared at the children for a moment, smiled and said, "Just stay where you are. You'll be safe there. I've got to go. Robbie, you watch after you sister, do you hear me?"

After her kids nodded their promise, she began picking her way through the debris toward the bathroom. The medicine cabinet lay on the floor, a hole in the wall exposing wires and ragged inslation. She searched the cabinet and found the bottle. She held the dark orange container close to her chest. The pills had helped bring her back after the breakdown she'd suffered last summer. She was grateful they were still there. Frank had wanted her to throw them away saying it was dangerous to keep them with small children around. Now, she was glad that she had not done as he wanted. Mary pocketed the bottle and returned her kids.

"Forgive me God," she pleaded under her breath. She forced a smile on her lips as she made her way to the two huddled figures in the corner of the room. "Here my darlings, swallow these," she instructed. "They'll make you feel better," she promised.

The children looked at her, confusion clouding their eyes.

Mary explained, "Remember when Mommy was sick and how much they helped me? They'll help you for now." She got a small amount of water from the kitchen sink, not caring if the tap water was good any longer.

Mary lay down beside them after she made sure they swallowed all the pills she had placed in their tiny, trusting hands. There had not been enough for her, too. She could not bear the thought that they would survive her alone. She counted on the next blast to be much closer. She would not have long to endure the guilt already eating at her. Soon her wait would be over with when she would be joining her two lovely children and Frank. She prayed that it would be so. Fear gnawed at her belly like slavering mad dogs. Oh God -- can there be anything be worse than this? she wondered as she watched the pills slowly take their effects on her children. They closed their eyes in peace. Mary cried as she rocked their tiny bodies in her lap.

The world shook with a sonic boom.

Mary's prayer had been answered.