by D. Gideon
Jax roused herself from where she’d been laying in the grass and trotted to the edge of the yard to watch Bill pedal away. Dotty stepped to the top of the stairs and whistled to call her back. Jax knew not to go out of the yard, but Pastor Bill was a friend and she might just decide to follow him home.
“The whole time we’ve been standing here that smell has been driving me crazy,” Cathy said. “I’ve got to go see what that is.”
Dotty turned to find Cathy opening the Miller’s screen door. Stepping over quickly, Dotty smacked the frame shut.
Cathy gasped, shaking her fingers from the sting of the handle being wrenched out of them. “Dorothy Parker! What has gotten into you?”
“What’s gotten into me? What’s gotten into you? This isn’t your house, Cathy. It’s not even my house. You don’t just go inviting yourself inside.”
“Well for god’s sake, it’s not like I’m a criminal or something.” Cathy waited a moment, eyebrows raised, and then huffed. “Fine. May I go inside, Miss Dotty?”
“No,” Dotty said.
“No?” Cathy sounded both shocked and insulted. “Why the hell not?”
“Because Seth and Lily asked me to take care of their house while they were doing seasonal work, and I’m not going to be parading strangers through their private things.”
“Strangers? How long have I been your neighbor, Dotty? You think I’m a stranger?” She stood with her hands on her hips now, working herself into a full huff. Over Cathy’s shoulder, Dotty saw Sheriff Kane motion for her attention. When her eyes met his, he gave a quick shake of his head.
“You’re a stranger to Seth and Lily. When was the last time you came over here just to be neighborly? Or invited Lily to one of your makeup parties? The only way they’d know you from those strangers down at the church is if you were driving by the house in your car.”
“Lily doesn’t run in the same circles I do,” Cathy said. “She couldn’t afford anything at one of our makeup parties. I don’t invite her because I don’t want her to feel embarrassed. Now quit being cranky and-“
“No,” Dotty said. “You wouldn’t want me opening your door and letting people walk through your house when you’re not home, so don’t ask me to do it to someone else.”
Cathy shook her finger. “You’re just doing this to be spiteful, Dotty. You just heard me stand right there and pour my heart out about having no food, about having to eat a nasty can of soup. Cold soup, Dotty. And now you’ve got something cooking in there and you won’t even let me in to see what it is?” She crossed her arms. “That’s not very Christian-like.”
Dotty blinked, taken aback. “If you need food, Cathy, all you have to do is ask-”
“Oh, so I have to come begging? You’re going to force me to grovel? Put me in my place because I don’t invite you and Lily to my makeup parties?”
Dotty ignored that and kept going. “I’d be happy to get some things out of the garden for you and bring them over in the morning if you need it.”
“And how am I supposed to cook it? No power? Hello?” Cathy waved an arm at the sky. Her voice was high and shrill now, and surely it was carrying. Dotty wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors started coming out onto their porches again.
“Ladies,” the Sheriff started, but Dotty waved him off.
“Teddy sells charcoal and propane barbeque grills down at the hardware store,” Dotty said. “You light a fire in one of those, set your skillet on it, and cook like normal.”
“I’m not ruining my induction cookware by putting it over a fire,” Cathy said.
“Oh for goodness’ sakes, Cathy. He sells cast iron skillets, too. Get one of those!”
“Ladies,” the Sheriff said, a little louder. This time Cathy held up a hand.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Dotty. The rest of us are sitting here watching our food go bad because with no power we can’t cook, and here you’ve got a way to cook and you’re trying to hide it from us.”
“Who’s this ‘us’, Cathy? When I came home this evening the whole neighborhood smelled like a giant cookout. A few people had their grills going in their front yard. Everyone else seems to be figuring out a way to cook just fine.”
“LADIES,” the Sheriff said, stepping up beside them. “I hate to interrupt, but I’m running short on time, and there was something I needed to talk to Miss Dotty about in private. So, Miss Cathy, if you could give us some privacy?” He gestured to the stairs.
Dotty and Cathy glared at each other for a few moments, then Cathy flipped her hair back over her shoulder.
“Sure, Sheriff. I can come back some other time, when Miss Dotty here isn’t feeling so selfish,” Cathy said, stepping past him and starting down the stairs.
“Not breaking Seth and Lily’s trust isn’t being selfish,” Dotty said. “It’s called being a good neighbor.”
“Okay, okay, that’s enough. Thank you, Miss Cathy. I appreciate your cooperation.” He made shooing motions, and with a “HMPH!” Cathy pulled a flashlight out of her back pocket and started home, slamming her heels into the ground forcefully enough to leave divots.
Simon turned and blew out a breath. “Not many people tell her no, do they?” He said quietly.
“I gave her that flashlight,” Dotty said. “Fool woman wouldn’t even be able to make such a show of stomping home without my help.”
Simon snorted, one big hand coming up to cover his mouth.
“Grams? Everything okay? You need me to come sit with you?” Thomas called.
“It’s fine, Thomas. You go in and go to bed. I’ve got more can-“ She stopped when Simon held up a hand.
“Don’t advertise,” he said.
“I’ve…got some cleaning to do over here, and then I’ll just lay down on the couch for the night,” she amended. That was the truth; she did have to clean up the countertops when she got finished.
“Okay then. G’nite, Grams. Nice to see you, Sheriff Kane.”
“You too, Thomas,” the Sheriff called. They watched as his silhouette went back into the house.
Dotty sighed and stepped away from the door, walking past the swing to get her tea.
“What was it you needed to talk to me about, Sheriff?”
“Well, truthfully, I just said that to get her to leave,” Simon said. “But I do have a suggestion: if you’re going to keep cooking, do it with the windows shut. I could smell that when I stepped out of my car.”
Dotty took a sip of her tea and sighed. “I suppose you’re right. It’s gonna heat the house up somethin’ fierce, though.”
“It’s better than the alternative,” he said, nodding towards Cathy’s house. “Do you mind if I get some more tea to take with me?”
“Of course you can. You can take the rest of the jug if you want it. Don’t tell Bill, bless his heart, but I’ve got another gallon and a half at home. I just don’t go through it as fast as he does.”
Simon filled his plastic cup and grinned. “You know that man’s sweet on you, right?”
Dotty wagged a finger at him. “Don’t you be gossipin’, Simon Kane.”
Simon held one hand up, his face the picture of innocence. “I ain’t gossiping. I’m just giving him a little help, is all. Pastor Bill’s a good man.”
“That he is,” Dotty said, looking down at her hands. “I don’t know how the congregation would react if he started courting me officially, though.”
“What, because you’re a widow?”
Dotty looked up and gave Simon a suffering look. She raised a hand and turned it back and forth, showing the light and dark sides.
“Oh. You mean the interracial thing. Screw ‘em. You don’t even worry about that, Miss Dotty. It’s their problem, not yours.”
“Some things just aren’t that simple, Simon,” Dotty said, sitting down on the swing. “Like this whole weekend. You’d think it would be common sense to cook the food you’ve got on a grill if your stove isn’t workin’.”
Simon nodded. “
We get hurricanes and ice storms all the time that knock out power for a few days, and that’s what everyone always does.”
“So why isn’t it that simple for some people?” Dotty asked. She raised a finger. “I’ll tell you why: people ain’t got no sense, Sheriff.”
Simon laughed. “You don’t have to tell me that. Do a ride-along with me one day and you’ll wonder how humanity ever managed to crawl out of the mud.”
“I think I’ll pass on that, Simon. I’d like to keep a little hope,” she said.
The Sheriff took another drink of his tea and sighed, looking off towards Cathy’s house.
“Dotty, you said earlier that someone had told you Pocomoke City doesn’t have power. I’ve had my boys check every corner of the county,” the Sheriff said. “We even drove down into Virginia a bit, and across the Delaware line. The power’s out everywhere, as far as we can tell. It’s not just local.”
“Lord help us,” Dotty said. “Teddy said if it was just Snow Hill, it would take a few weeks to fix all the broken lines and replace the transformers. So with the whole Eastern Shore being out, which is what it sounds like, how much longer will it take?”
“I’m trying to get the Mayor to figure that out,” Simon said. “He needs to get some estimates from Dominion Power on repair times. And I need him to get some State or Federal level help for the prison. I can’t be Warden and Sheriff at the same time. I just can’t get it through Wilhelm’s head that this might take longer than a normal hurricane outage. He’s dragging his feet.”
“Why would you be Warden again?” Dotty asked. The Sheriff sat his cup down on the railing, lifted his hat, and ran a hand through his hair.
“Pastor Bill went to the prison yesterday to do his weekly ministry. When he got there, the guards wouldn’t let him in. Every time he goes, the Warden, or one of the two lieutenant wardens—whoever’s on duty—has to personally come down and sign him in. Well, turns out, there weren’t any wardens there. Hadn’t been since Friday morning.”
“What the devil? And they still haven’t shown up?”
“Nope. They’re gone.”
“Gone?”
“Gone, gone. As in I drove out to Dale Gooden’s place and there’s nobody there. Neighbors told me he came home early on Friday, packed up the car, and took off with the whole family. I had Frank go out and check the two lieutenants’ houses. They never even clocked in on Friday. They’re gone, too. Houses are empty.”
“Completely empty? Like they moved out?”
“Well, no, not completely empty. Furniture and all is still there, from what we can see through the windows. But all locked up, cars are gone, pets are gone…like they went on vacation.”
“Or like they dropped everything and ran,” Dotty said.
“Or that,” he said, nodding.
“This doesn’t bode well, Sheriff.”
Simon sighed. “No, it certainly does not. So I’m back to running the Federal prison until Annapolis can send someone to relieve me, and I’ve got the Sheriff’s department to run, too. The prisoners are getting restless without power, and sooner or later, they’ll riot. Now we’ve got all these vacationers coming into town…there’s bound to be some trouble sooner or later. I just don’t have the manpower if this gets any worse.”
“Well, I’ll pray for you tonight, Sheriff. I can’t think of much else I can do to help, but I can do that.”
“I appreciate that, Miss Dotty. I really do. And thank you for letting me relax here for a bit. Even with Miss Cathy causing a scene, this has been the quietest few minutes I’ve had since Friday night.”
“Anytime you need it, Simon, my door’s open for you. I’ll either be over at my house or here, and you are always welcome to come inside and rest, even if I’m not home,” Dotty said, pointing to her front yard. “I keep a spare key to the front door taped to the bottom of the mailbox.”
“The mailbox? That’s different,” he said.
“As far as I know, no one but the spiders ever look there,” she said with a smile.
Simon put his hat back on and chuckled. “I might take you up on that; I’ve got a cot at the Department but it’s not real easy to hide there.” He straightened and picked up what was left of the jug of tea.
“I’d best be going, see if I can get a little shut-eye. I’ve got to get with the Mayor first thing in the morning, and then I’ve got a drug delivery at the prison to oversee at eight. I’ve got to try to get in contact with my undersheriffs and the neighboring Sheriffs in case we need to coordinate an emergency response…it’s gonna be a busy day.”
Dotty stood and walked him to his car. “The next time you see your mama, you tell her I said hello and we missed her at the church today. If her legs are troubling her, I can always come get her and take her to service.”
“I will, Miss Dotty. She’ll be glad to hear you’re thinking of her. Thank you again…and remember to shut up those windows. Your cookin’ just smells too good.”
She watched him pull away, his headlights illuminating the big trash bins on the sides of the street. Except for the few generators she could hear running, and the bugs up in the trees making a racket, everything was quiet and still.
She looked up at the colors still streaming across the night sky and was once again struck by how beautiful it was. Heavenly artwork, Pastor Bill had called it. He tried so hard to see the good in things; he always had such faith that everything would work itself out.
The power was out across the entire county. The Wardens had up and left town. Vacationers were filling up parking lots, sleeping in their cars. Bored youngsters were out causing trouble. Abe was going to run out of gas soon, and her neighbor was already out of food.
And through it all, she had no way to communicate with Corey and Ripley, no way to know if they were safe there at the college, in the middle of three big cities. No way to know if they were coming home. No way to get in touch with Seth and Lily. She didn’t even know if her daughter, Cynthia, was out to sea or on station at her base in Norfolk.
All she wanted to do was pull her little hodge-podge family together and hold them tight, but they were scattered to the winds.
She needed to get inside, close the windows, pull those jars from the canners, and put the next batch of roasts in.
And then, most importantly, she needed to pray.
CHAPTER 16
Sunday, September 2nd
College Park, Maryland
We left our packs in my room and headed down to breakfast. It really should have been called lunch. While the cafeterias opened early on the weekdays, the first meal on the weekends started much later.
There was a crowd of Phi Kappa frat boys already hanging out in front of the doors. They were dressed in nothing but swim trunks and sunglasses, getting the attention of everyone who walked by. There was a small crowd of girls gathered there, talking and laughing with a few of the guys. All around them, sitting in the grass, were students already eating. They must have been wanting to soak up the sunshine; it was already over eighty degrees.
“That’s strange,” Marco said. “Since when do they let students bring trays and dishes outside?”
“Pool party at the PK!” One of the frat boys shouted. There was a sheen of sweat on his dark, muscular skin. “Can’t take a shower? Come get clean in our pool!”
“Swimsuits optional!” Another one yelled. “We won’t look, promise!”
“Straight out Campus Drive and follow the sidewalk down to Frat Row,” another called. “Pristine, cold water awaits!”
“My, my,” Mel said, sliding down her sunglasses and slowing to get a better look. “Mmph. Dayum.”
“No,” I said. “We’re eating, and we’re leaving.” I pushed Mel forward. “Move it.”
“I don’t know, Rip, we could take them up on it, since you wouldn’t let us wash up this morning,” Marco said. “I wouldn’t object to seeing you two in swimsuits.”
“I told you, we drew too much attention yesterday washin
g up. Besides, who the hell brings a swimsuit to college?”
Mel raised her hand. “I’ve got three bikinis. You can borrow one.”
“No,” I repeated. “Corey, help me out here.”
Corey pulled open the door to the cafeteria and held it for us. “Don’t look at me. If I turned down the chance to see you guys soaking wet in bikinis, Marco would revoke my man card.”
“Damn straight,” Marco said, high-fiving Corey as he walked past. He stopped, and Mel ran into him.
“What the hell, Romeo?” Mel said, straightening her sunglasses and shoving him. I stepped around the two of them and jerked to a stop myself.
“Whoa,” I said.
The cafeteria was packed. A quick scan showed that every seat was taken. Kids were standing along the walls, talking in pairs and groups while holding their food trays with one hand and trying to eat with the other. With the temperature outside and so many bodies in here without air conditioning, the heat was stifling.
“Maybe we should walk over to the cafeteria on the South side,” Corey said.
I shook my head. “It would take too long. Let’s just grab something and go.”
“No wonder all those people were outside,” Mel said. “Where the hell did they all come from? It’s never this busy.”
We wove our way through the tables up to the line, which extended past the food counter and wrapped around the side of the large hall. As the line inched forward, more students fell in behind us, grumbling about the wait. It took a full five minutes for us to even reach the start of the serving line, and when we got there my eyes widened.
A cooler sitting on the counter that was usually full of juices, teas, and energy drinks was empty. Next to it, three cases of bottled water were stacked. A handwritten sign in front of them read “One water per person.” Next to those, in another cooler that was usually stocked with grab-n-go sandwiches and subs, and where we’d gotten our PB&J sandwiches yesterday, the glass shelves were bare.
The salad bar was empty; where there were usually sunken bins of lettuce mixes and toppings, there were only stainless steel lids with handles covering the cut-outs in the counter. It wasn’t a case of it having already been sold out; it looked sparkling clean, as if it hadn’t even been filled this morning. When we moved up to the hot food section, we were met with more flat lids covering what was normally an array of everything from beef stroganoff to baked ziti. There was also a notable absence of cafeteria workers behind the line; I leaned forward and saw that at the end of the counter, only two women were serving food from just two tubs. There were two more women at the cash registers, scribbling furiously on clipboards. This, at least, I was familiar with—yesterday they’d been adding up totals on hand calculators, then hand-writing meal card numbers and the amount to charge to them on old-fashioned restaurant ordering pads—the kind that made a carbon copy for the customer. There was no use using the generator to power the registers when the campus’ computer system was down.