Monte Vista Village, Toxic Soup (The Survivor Diaries)
Page 8
“Thank you! Let’s start at the beginning. The war and biochemicals,” I began.
“May I,” Mark asked. I nodded my head and gave him the floor.
“Annie, I know that the worst of the worst has happened. Let’s start with the nuclear aspects of the war. I think that it is fair to assume that San Francisco was hit by a nuclear bomb, just like all the big US cities. That means that we are over two hours away from ground zero. Remember Japan’s nuclear meltdown? The news said that there was minimal radiation threats outside of twenty miles,” Mark stopped as if to figure out what to say next. He truly wanted to assuage Mom’s fear, but he didn’t have all of the facts. Neither of us did. I had to do something I didn’t want to do.
I grabbed the walkie and set it to channel 13.
“Jackson, are you there?” I begrudgingly asked.
“Hey, Laura. I am here, is everything alright?” said Katie.
“It is. I just needed to talk to the colonel privately,” I said.
“Okay, sweetie. I’ll get off of this channel. Let me know later if you need anything.” Katie changed the channel, for that I was sure.
“Hey, Lurkie McLurkesen. I know you are there,” I prodded.
“Yep, I am,” boomed the deeply nasal voice. “And how may I help you this fine day, Ms. Laura?”
Err. You can bite me? Sigh. “I want you to answer some questions about nuclear fallout and radiation. What are we looking at here in Monterey under the assumption that SF was hit?” I said directly.
“There are many variables, such as how many megatons were dropped. But we are 120 miles from it. I am going to be very honest with you all; there is the possibility of us getting some repercussions from San Francisco hit. They could come in the bay, by the way of fish with radiation. But that isn’t what I am afraid of. The biochems are my real concern. I was listening in when you talked about that, and the Doc was spot on,” Jackson trailed off, maybe waiting for a question, but I think he guessed that I was trying to calm fears, not make them worse.
“However, I believe that the risk of the smallpox is minimal. It is believed that only small portions were ever saved for research. Now, I can’t promise, but that is what I have been told,” he said.
Wow, that wasn’t very convincing. But I’ll take it.
“Okay, thanks colonel,” I cut him off before he could put his foot in it anymore.
“I hope that I helped a little,” he said sincerely.
“It did,” I said to reassure him.
I turned off the walkie, not wanting any more helpful outside information.
It was quiet while the three of us looked at each other, uncomfortably.
“What happened sucks,” I said loudly. “There’s no getting around it. The world, our world, is never going to be like it was before. It’s time that we all come to grips with it. Yes, we have many hard days ahead. We don’t know what to expect out there. But even then, what radiation sickness waits around each corner? Are the blankets laced with small pox? Will be playing ring-around-the-rosy with the plague?
“No one has the answers though. Not the doctor, the shrink, not the army colonel. No one knows. From here on out, life is what we, ourselves, make of it. Will we get sick? Maybe. Will we die of dehydration? I don’t know.
“I am sorry that your house is in such bad shape, Mom. I really am. But this wasn’t only your house. I grew up here. And you were not the only one to lose things that are intertwined with your memories. But, when we get out of here, I plan to rebuild this house. I’ll do it alone if I have to. Yes, we lost things that held our memories, but we haven’t lost our memories themselves.
“Mom, remember the time I was invited to my first party after we moved up here? I was so excited to be invited to a pool party. And remember what happened?”
“You came home with the worst case of poison oak. Your face blew up like a Thanksgiving Day float,” She said with a wide smile.
“Yes! See, you didn’t lose that memory. Right now the three of us have each other to help us remember. But if we spend the time we have together worrying about dying, we won’t live.”
Mark came over and hugged me, pulling Mom by the sleeve to join in a group hug.
I don’t think it’s the last Braveheart speech I will be delivering in the coming days.
July 23, 11:30 AM
Mark pulled me into our room when we were done with our family discussion. He led me to the edge of the bed and held me tightly for a few minutes.
“I thought that you and I could have our own talk,” he began. “So much has happened, and you are right, things have changed. I wanted to say that I am sorry about everything that happened before.”
“Me too,” I said, nodding my head and looking in his eyes. “What is done is done. Now we all need each other more than we ever had.”
“I am here, for better or worse,” he said.
I drew him back on the bed and, well, there are some things I don’t have to tell you, do I diary?
July 23, 9:15 PM
Tonight’s meeting was a difficult one. Thankfully, Liz has taken over the meeting minutes, so I was able to focus on am important topic.
Before I get to that, I did introduce Jackson to the group. I decided not to mention his lurking about our communications. I brushed over how we “met” him, and everyone was so excited to have a military man among them that they were happy with the brief introduction. Good thing, because their mood was about to take a turn for the worse.
“I wanted to talk about our food and water rations,” I went straight to my point. “We are not certain how much longer we are going to be inside…” I was cut off by several moans and groans.
“But you said that we would be in here for two weeks, and that’s what we rationed for,” Tony Gianluca started in on me.
“No, I said that it might be longer,” I said, defensively.
“But we are running out of everything,” whined Shelby. “We are starving. And all we have to do all day is sit around and think of how thirsty and hungry we are.”
“I know that this is tough, but I have spoken to you all personally, and I believe that if rationed properly, like I have suggested, we will all make it until it is safe to go outside,” Malcom said. “We might have to hold on for a little bit longer depending on what the environment is like. I’m sorry.”
We started to cut back on food in our home even more than we had already. We have more than enough water, thanks to our tub purchases, but we are starting to run low on food.
“I know what you are feeling. Please remember that we are all in the same place, even the doctor. We might be uncomfortable, but we are not going to die,” I said.
“Hey, Colonel, what do you think of all of this? Are you cutting back?” asked Tony.
“I am. I made sure I had food for the long haul, but we don’t even know if the food outside will be safe,” he commented bluntly.
And that started a firestorm of conversation. Thanks, Colonel!
“What about my granddaughter?” exclaimed Jessica.
“You know, I have three kids, Jessica. I am just as worried about them,” said Liz.
“Excuse me, everyone hold on,” Joseph, who rarely spoke at these meetings broke through the cacophony of moaning and complaining. “Each and everyone one of us is in the same boat. Don’t forget that. If the Doc says it’s not safe to go out, then it’s not safe, plain and simple. As for the food safety outside, we will cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Things settled down a bit but I know that everyone was on edge.
“Thank you, Joseph. You are absolutely right,” I said in a calm voice, hoping that would level out everyone’s emotions. “I think it is important to stay busy and try not to think about it. The Doc says that we will all be okay with what we have for now. I trust him!”
Katie, with her usual reassuring voice took over. “When we are hungry, and know that there isn’t much food, our minds do something instinctual. We start to panic b
ecause our sustenance is what keeps us alive. The more we give into the panic, the worse we will feel. That’s why finding something else to keep your mind on is not just a recommendation, but a necessity. Keep reading. Veda and Pranav, you have a generator, keep the movies going for the kids as long as you can without threatening your supply of gas. Shelby and Matt, last night at therapy group you said that you were remodeling Camella’s room. Start to draw up the plans. Make them detailed. Jill said that Joseph, you fixed your Ham radio. Use it! Start to clean up the debris in your homes and rebuild what you can!
“Do you all see what I am getting at? We are very fortunate to be in our own homes. Don’t forget that!” Katie’s voice had crescendoed into a plea.
That settled people down. How dumb of me to ask the colonel to chime in? Look what he did with my mother. And these people seemed way worse off than Annie.
“I have an idea of how to keep our minds busy, as well. How about starting a list of assets we all have? By assets, I mean things that we are good at, things that we have to help us stay alive, and things that we believe that we can contribute to the group when we get out,” I offered.
Things settled down after that and people started to throw out ideas and get their thoughts organized.
So, that was the evening meeting in a nut shell. I am really afraid of how they are going to react when we tell them the truth about the possible biochemicals in the air.
July 24 , 10:20 PM
Today was back to back meetings, but, in between, Mark and I began to work on the broken staircase using some of the left over wood from the boarded up windows. We have set up a little work room in my mother’s formal dining room.
Katie’s theory about keeping busy wasn’t just to control the masses, it actually works. In a world of such plenty, like the one we all came from, there was always so much food to be had that we never had to wonder, what-if? And I am actually enjoying the work. It gives me a chance to think deeply while I saw and hammer. There is so much that we can do before our exodus to the great outdoors.
Meeting #One, Kid’s Club
Keeping my word about privacy, I brought the walkie in to the bedroom.
The kids gave me the first honest laugh I have had in a while.
“Hi, everyone. It’s Laura. I thought I would try to help you get the ball rolling with your club. I know that there are only three of you for now, but…”
“My mother told me I had to come,” Gita interrupted. “I’m fourteen, that’s a TEENAGER. I don’t want to be here.”
“You know, you are right, Gita. Tell your mother you belong in the Teen Club, if you want to,” I offered.
“Peace, out,” Gita proclaimed. She made me grin.
“So, that leaves us with two, which works out because you are both boys, and you are both nine years old,” I began the introductions. “Do you know each other from school?”
Tommy started. “No, I go to private school, he goes to public.”
Ronnie spoke op next. “So, you said that these clubs are private, and no one can listen in unless they tell us they are there, right?”
I hoped I was telling the truth when I said, “That’s right, Ronnie.” I left out the part that there may be some terrorists of some sort listening in.
“Then we can talk about s-e-x,” he spelled. “Right?”
The coffee I was sipping went up my nose as I half laughed and half choked.
“Um, um. Are you allowed to talk about that subject at home?” I questioned, trying to wiggle out of a true answer. Better to dump is back on the parents.
“Only to my mom,” Ronnie said.
“No, not at all,” replied Tommy honestly.
“It’s true we wouldn’t know that was what you were talking about. But since you aren’t allowed to talk about that stuff, I really don’t think you should,” I stated, hoping the topic would change soon.
When I was finished with my first meeting of the day, I changed the channel on the walkie to 13, and I sat think in the living room with Mom and Mark to think for a minute.
Isn’t nine too young to be thinking about sex, especially in the middle of an apocalypse? I thought.
“Blame it on the parents, good one,” the voice chuckled.
“Oh, shut up, Jackson,” I snipped. “And the next time you listen into a private meeting, I am coming over there with my hammer to hit you upside the head! I don’t care what kind of toxic sludge I have to go through. Do you hear me, Colonel?”
“Heh, I’ll leave the light on for ya, lil’ lady,” he laughed.
I turned the thing off.
“I think I should be the one to go out and test the weather,” Mark said.
I was in total shook. Where did that come from?
“No, you are not going out there. I need you! Let that ass go out and die in it.” Before I even finished the sentence, I was mired in guilt by what I had suggested.
With my head down, I whispered, “I didn’t mean that.”
I needed to get this thing with Jackson in check, right now. Ass or not, he was doing a very selfless thing by volunteering to be the guinea pig in what could be a toxic soup out there. Not just that, but I have never in my life talked to anyone that way.
Meeting # Two, Survivor’s Club
After last night’s Evening Meeting, I wasn’t looking forward to the Survivor’s Club, but we had to go there, so I started out the meeting by posing a question that was likely to get everyone’s attention; do we need to have both an Evening Meeting and a Survivor’s Club?
This question was answered with a resounding “No, we don’t”. Everyone seemed relieved that we were going to change the name of the nightly meeting to The Evening Survivor’s Club, and a few people implied that I should have thought of that before. Huh! Like, I am supposed to have experience in this Post Apocalyptic Club universe.
And, because we realized that we are on meeting overload on M, Wed, Fri., Therapy Group has been moved to Tues, Thur at 8:30 PM.
So, we got that far and decided to break until 7:30 to pick up from there.
With all of this BS, doomsday has started to look a lot like regular life. And I am not sure if that’s a good thing.
Sigh, moving on…
Meeting #Three Book Club
This is an easy one to explain. We talked about the Pride and Prejudice. I am too tired to go into the whole discussion, but it was pretty typical of all of the other Book Clubs I have been in. I must admit that it was good to do something that reminded me of the past.
Meeting # Four The Evening Survivor’s Club
People mellowed out by 7:30 and we were able to have a productive meeting. Tonight’s subject,
‘Living without Electricity and Plumbing’ wasn’t as bad as Living without Food and Water. We even got a laugh at how we all continued to flip the light switch every time we walk into a dark room. We also continue to open the refrigerator door when we are hungry and turn on the faucet to wash our hands after using the “facilities”. We are just a bunch of trained howler monkeys, aren’t we?
Meeting # Five, Teens Club
Ahh, my final meeting of the day, and I have no idea at all how to talk to a bunch of angsty teens about living through the end of the world. This must be really tough on them. Not only are they dealing with all of those hormones, but yes, now try and figure out your place in a world that isn’t even a world anymore.
So, in attendance we had Jayden, who is twelve and was supposed to be at the Kid’s Club this morning, but, according to her, “she’s not a baby and isn’t going to meet with two little boys”, Chandra, sixteen, who was forced to come to the meeting by her parents, Gita, fourteen, who was the only one happy to be at the meeting and finally Kristi, age fifteen, and Pete, ages seventeen, who would sit and listen but “aren’t gonna say a word”.
Maybe I should be the one to volunteer to go into the toxic ooze.
So that productive meeting broke up after fifteen minutes.
July 25, 6:45 AM
July 25, 10:15 AM
The morning was dramatic, to say the least.
At exactly 7:30 on the dot, Jackson came on the walkie.
“I have already taken down the wood over my front door,” he said. His voice sounded official, not like the laughing jerk I have gotten used to… heh. “I am wearing protective eye wear, goggles, thermal underwear over my wet suit, a ski jacket and a ski mask.”
A ski mask, I mouthed to my husband. He shrugged.
“Aren’t you a little warm,” I asked.
“We already discussed this,” interjected Malcom. “He needs to stay as protected from the air as much as possible.”
“I have my Geiger-Muller counter ready to go and I am about to open the door,” Jackson continued, as if he were recording official findings into a recorder.
We all held our breath and waited. It seemed like forever, but no one interrupted the silence.
“Back inside for the moment. It’s raining. Acid rain, maybe. It burned where it hit my wrist, the only part of me that was exposed. I’m going back…” he began.
“No you aren’t,” Malcom ordered. “Keep your ass in that house.”
“No can do, Doc,” he broke character from Mr. Scientist. “I have to bring food and water to the Sheratons. Talk when I get back.”
“No!” Malcom began to protest.
“He’s gone and I’m sure he didn’t take the walkie with him,” I said.
“God damn it. Everyone switch to channel 1. I have to warn the Sheratons.”
About a minute went by.
“This is Shelby,” she finally answered.
“Shelby, this is Dr. Graham. Col Jackson is bringing you food and water. Have Matt get down whatever it is that is covering your door so he can get in and out immediately.”