and sound in San Diego, California.
“So that makes you the closest thing to a mother we have right now. I’m not asking you to adopt her,” I assured her, “but just see if you can get her talking and comfortable.” I looked over at the little girl, who hadn’t moved from where we’d put her. “I’ve seen deer in my headlights look more animated.”
Meri looked over at her, a look of compassion on her face. “I’ll do what I can.” She turned back to me. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going visiting,” I said flatly.
I was on my way fifteen minutes later, in the green Mercedes. I felt a pang of guilt for taking her car, but it was warm, and as I seated myself, I realized that the window sticker was still on the car. This Mercedes was brand new! I wondered if Sarah had bought it or stolen it, and then chided myself. I was sure our area, as stressed as it was, hadn’t fallen that far from civilization. As I drove out of the driveway, I looked bemusedly at the woods where Sarah had disappeared. No. We were still mostly civilized, right?
First, I went to our old apartment to see if anything was worth saving. That was a wasted trip, since unless I wanted to collect rubble there was nothing left. It wasn’t pretty, and the worst thing of all is that it seemed somehow permanent, as if no one cared enough to come and rebuild. But that was just temporary—it had to be.
Next I went to some of my friends’ houses. Cell phone coverage had become spotty at times, and I just needed to see them, somehow. I couldn’t really explain it, even to myself. I passed the bank, not far from our old apartment. It had closed during the first outbreaks, and as far as I knew, hadn’t reopened. None of the banks were open, which had been a federal issue since apparently banks were required to be open by law on most days. It was amazing what I had learned as a result of the bombing and aftermath. I hadn’t really been concerned since I never went there anyway, always preferring to get my cash from the ATM. Now I started to wonder if cash was available there. We hadn’t been hurting for cash. I mean, it wasn’t like I was out going to dinner and out to movies. And now that I thought about it, how long had it been since we’d received mail? Who did I even contact to tell them that my apartment was gone and to forward my mail to my parent’s house? I sighed and touched my head as it started to ache slightly.
Pushing the mail problem aside, I drove to the closest ATM, weaving through the cars that had just been left in the street. I saw a few other cars, but didn’t know who drove them.
The ATM was another disappointment. It was flashing an error message. No cash today. I didn’t really need it, but I felt a little anxious about not being able to get it. Would people still take my credit card? I felt mostly sure they would. Everyone else must be having the same problem, and when the quarantine was lifted, the mail would restart and in would flood the waiting bills. It had to work that way, right?
I drove by the grocery store, but it was dark and closed, the broken windows boarded up. I felt my stomach lurch uncomfortably. No groceries?
Everything was closed that I could see. I drove over to Tina’s little house. Tina was another high school friend. She had blond hair that fell in a shaggy mane down her back to her shoulder blades. She was curvy in a way that attracted the opposite sex like bees to honey. Surprisingly, under all those curves was a strong smart gal who could run most guys into the ground. We had been really close for a time, and had somehow given each other odd nicknames. She was Pewter and I was Lambchop. The story of these names is silly and ultimately boring, so I won’t go into it. Still, if I ever heard the word “Lambchop” I would turn around ready to hug Pewter. Tina was still alive, I knew, Meri having talked to her a couple of days ago. It was strange how suddenly I wanted to see
“So that makes you the closest thing to a mother we have right now. I’m not asking you to adopt her,” I assured her, “but just see if you can get her talking and comfortable.” I looked over at the little girl, who hadn’t moved from where we’d put her. “I’ve seen deer in my headlights look more animated.”
Meri looked over at her, a look of compassion on her face. “I’ll do what I can.” She turned back to me. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going visiting,” I said flatly.
I was on my way fifteen minutes later, in the green Mercedes. I felt a pang of guilt for taking her car, but it was warm, and as I seated myself, I realized that the window sticker was still on the car. This Mercedes was brand new! I wondered if Sarah had bought it or stolen it, and then chided myself. I was sure our area, as stressed as it was, hadn’t fallen that far from civilization. As I drove out of the driveway, I looked bemusedly at the woods where Sarah had disappeared. No. We were still mostly civilized, right?
First, I went to our old apartment to see if anything was worth saving. That was a wasted trip, since unless I wanted to collect rubble there was nothing left. It wasn’t pretty, and the worst thing of all is that it seemed somehow permanent, as if no one cared enough to come and rebuild. But that was just temporary—it had to be.
Next I went to some of my friends’ houses. Cell phone coverage had become spotty at times, and I just needed to see them, somehow. I couldn’t really explain it, even to myself. I passed the bank, not far from our old apartment. It had closed during the first outbreaks, and as far as I knew, hadn’t reopened. None of the banks were open, which had been a federal issue since apparently banks were required to be open by law on most days. It was amazing what I had learned as a result of the bombing and aftermath. I hadn’t really been concerned since I never went there anyway, always preferring to get my cash from the ATM. Now I started to wonder if cash was available there. We hadn’t been hurting for cash. I mean, it wasn’t like I was out going to dinner and out to movies. And now that I thought about it, how long had it been since we’d received mail? Who did I even contact to tell them that my apartment was gone and to forward my mail to my parent’s house? I sighed and touched my head as it started to ache slightly.
Pushing the mail problem aside, I drove to the closest ATM, weaving through the cars that had just been left in the street. I saw a few other cars, but didn’t know who drove them.
The ATM was another disappointment. It was flashing an error message. No cash today. I didn’t really need it, but I felt a little anxious about not being able to get it. Would people still take my credit card? I felt mostly sure they would. Everyone else must be having the same problem, and when the quarantine was lifted, the mail would restart and in would flood the waiting bills. It had to work that way, right?
I drove by the grocery store, but it was dark and closed, the broken windows boarded up. I felt my stomach lurch uncomfortably. No groceries?
Everything was closed that I could see. I drove over to Tina’s little house. Tina was another high school friend. She had blond hair that fell in a shaggy mane down her back to her shoulder blades. She was curvy in a way that attracted the opposite sex like bees to honey. Surprisingly, under all those curves was a strong smart gal who could run most guys into the ground. We had been really close for a time, and had somehow given each other odd nicknames. She was Pewter and I was Lambchop. The story of these names is silly and ultimately boring, so I won’t go into it. Still, if I ever heard the word “Lambchop” I would turn around ready to hug Pewter. Tina was still alive, I knew, Meri having talked to her a couple of days ago. It was strange how suddenly I wanted to see
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