The Bath Salts Journals (Volume 1)

by Alisse Lee Goldenberg

  We showed them around the compound and gave them a tour of our sheds. They were impressed by what we’d managed to accomplish. Dan spoke a bit about expansion. Turns out, he knows how to build things quite well. He and David went off on a long conversation about how, if it seems we are here for the long haul, they could cut down trees and co-opt the wiring from the trailers to build a full two-storey, working log cabin that could house us all. I had flashes of reading the Little House books as a kid and reading about how Pa built the house for the Ingalls family.

  I’m not going to lie. It does seem nice actually to plan for a future and build towards something better. At the same time, it would be nice to go home as well.

  * * * Xuân * * *

  Fine. So I did jump into the bed of the first guy I saw. In my defence, it took two nights before I did. AND he has a great ass that I noticed the first time we met. His name, hilariously, is Mike. So that’s like four Mikes I’ve “dated.” He and his buddy, Dan, were two of the four guys who showed up the other week (day? month? I’m so losing track of time). The other two wanted to take their chances further north. Luckily, Mike and his fabulous body decided to take their chances with us. Hell, we could have been cannibals for all they knew.

  He’s apparently mildly allergic to cats, but where I sleep, Crypto sleeps. So he can either go fucking sleep on the floor or put up with it. Crypto always comes first. CRAZY CAT LADY FOREEEEEEEEEEEVER!

  December 20

  It’s five days until Christmas and David and I are making plans. I have decided that on the 24th, we will go and find a small tree and put it in our compound. We have no real ornaments, but decorations are easy enough to make.

  I know no one in the other trailer is planning anything, mainly because I don’t think they’re as obsessive about keeping track of what day it is. When I told Dan and Mike the date the other day, they seemed shocked that it had been so long since they’d run from Winnipeg.

  Ethan has another case of sniffles, but it’s not anywhere near as serious as the last one. In fact, we all seem to have some kind of a cold. I keep brewing pots of tea, and they’re going fast. Everyone seems grateful that I’m on it.

  Tonight we had another karaoke night. Dan surprised us all by busting out some Billy Joel. The guy can sing! Turns out Mike even brought a guitar with him. He played a few tunes for us. It was great hearing live music again. I don’t count the karaoke since most of us suck. I saw Xuân watching him play with stars in her eyes. She’s got it bad. It’s adorable. If I ever said that out loud to her, she’d flip out on me.

  December 21

  Still no word from my brother. I’ve all but given up on him at this point. I truly believe that if he were alive, he’d find some way to contact me. He knows I’m up here. He knows where I am. Some days I wonder if he maybe thinks I’m the one who’s died and I’m not calling him for that reason. But the only logical answer is that he’s gone. We have all the defences he’s lacking. We have supplies, power, and water. Last I heard, he was running low. It’s a horrible feeling giving up on someone you love. But if I let myself hope, it will be so much worse when I find out he’s really gone. I can’t do that to myself. I have to accept reality as it is. My brother is dead, and there is nothing I can do about it.

  I wonder if it’s logical to sit shiva for people if you don’t know they’re truly dead. I asked David this question, and he stared at me as if I’d lost my mind. I mean, if we were home, and the world was normal again, and everyone in our family had died, we’d have a funeral (or funerals) and then sit shiva for a week saying the Mourner’s Kaddish. What are we supposed to do now? What’s the right thing to do in such a strange situation? I have no answers, and writing this out only leaves me more confused about the topic. However, I do know that if we ever get confirmation that our families are dead, I will sit then. It’s what my parents would have wanted. Their deaths must be mourned in some fashion. It’s only right.

  I was happy, but hurting at the same time today when I heard my kids call for “Ukko Dan, Ukko Mike, Attie Xuân, and Attie Olive.” There used to be far different names attached to those titles. However, I should be happy they feel they have an actual family unit around them out here. Bonds have been formed, and I think that if we do go home, these bonds will be here to stay.

  December 23

  It’s been great having these extra sets of hands around. This means that more time can be spent with the children. I have taught them how to put seeds in the haydite to replenish our crops. Ethan seems keen to learn how to milk Doogoo, and she is incredibly tolerant to his fumbling attempts. It seems that every day they are learning new words and skills. True, they can’t count to ten on their own, but they can say “zombie” quite well and quite clearly. I know this since this morning we were outside when Benjamin gave a startled cry of “Zombie!” and we turned and saw a caribou. There was much laughter at this and we had to sit him down and explain the difference between the two creatures. I think he understood what we were saying. Since then, he delights in calling everything “zombie,” just to see how well we’re paying attention. I’m hoping that we’re not heading towards a Peter and the Wolf sort of situation—only this time, it will be the boy who cried “zombie” and no one believed him.

  December 24

  Today David and I went off in search of a tree. We braved the freezing temperatures, bundled up so that not a centimetre of skin was showing. It took us a while to find the one we wanted. We took a hatchet with us and searched for a couple of hours until I saw a small evergreen that stood nice and straight. David cut it down and we hoisted it up onto the roof of the SUV that we brought with us. As we were tying off the last knot, we both looked up. We had heard the moan that indicated that the undead were in the area. We turned trying to find the source of the sound. Soon two zombies lurched through the tree line and headed for us. David quickly took the hatchet and buried it in the closest one’s skull. I grabbed my ever-present machete and dispatched its partner. We then got into our vehicle and drove back.

  On our way, I called for David to stop by the lake. I had spotted a flock of geese, and I had another idea. I pulled the rifle I’d borrowed from Xuân out of the back, and shot one of the birds sitting by the water. I put it in the SUV and we continued on our way. I honestly don’t know why we didn’t think of this before. We have been eating essentially red meat for ages. There are so many birds out here. We should have poultry as well. It would be more balanced.

  We pulled into our compound and the others looked at our haul in confusion. We told them that tonight was Christmas Eve and we were going to trim a tree in our yard and have a special dinner. Xuân, Mike, Olivia, and Dan seemed thrilled and touched that we’d thought of them. Why wouldn’t we? I left the kids and David with the others as I set to work making Christmas dinner for us all. Behind the trailer, I plucked and prepared the goose for cooking, then took it inside where I put herbs and spices on it and rubbed it down with oil and paprika. I used the same recipe my mother used for roast turkey, hoping it would come out all right. I didn’t have a pan big enough for it, so I laid it on aluminum foil as I put it in the preheated oven. The day was still quite young, so I didn’t mind that it would take hours to cook. Once that was taken care of, I went outside to help the others with the tree. The side dishes would be taken care of much later.

  Samantha was sitting on the ground in her snowsuit making balls out of foil that Dan was taking and putting wire through to hang as ornaments. Xuân was tying string to pinecones and hanging those on the tree. Mike had concocted an elaborate star out of bits of glass, foil, and wire that David was putting on the top, while Ethan and Benjamin seemed content to throw foil pieces at the tree, shouting their latest word: “tinsel!”

  Olivia joined me where I stood and gave me a hug. “This is the most beautiful tree ever,” she declared. I had to agree with her. It certainly was.

  Several hours later, the tree was done. It took hours since the kids thought the point of the tr
ee was to decorate it and then remove everything that had been put on it and start over. Eventually, they understood that the tree needed to remain dressed. We convinced them the tree would be too cold otherwise.

  I took the kids inside the trailer to help me prepare the rest of the meal. They like to help cook. I think it’s because they get to taste everything as we go. That’s certainly why I liked to help my mom as a child.

  We made fried zucchini sticks, a leafy salad with goat cheese and strawberries, and a rudimentary stuffing out of a box of plain croutons I found in our shed, seasoned with spices and cooked in some oil. Soon, I saw that the goose was done and we called everyone in for dinner.

  The goose was a huge success. I think we’ll be eating leftovers for at least a week, but it tasted great. The one flaw was that no one had packed a carving knife, so we washed and disinfected a machete to cut the damned thing. After that, we sat around the table and sang carols, drank mulled wine that I had prepared, and had a lovely time.

  Xuân asked me what I had done with the feathers, and I realized I had never cleaned them up. She’s going to go back there later and see if they’re salvageable. She thinks she can turn them into some pillows, or use them to stuff a quilt. She’s right. Such things shouldn’t go to waste.

  * * * Xuân * * *

  Holy shit, it’s Christmas! How the fuck is Alexis keeping track of the days?

  I tried to make myself useful by attempting some arts and crafts. I can do pinecones on a string! And that’s about it. Never big on Christmas. Hell, I wasn’t even going to go back west for Christmas this year because the airfare was too much.

  I’m keeping Crypto away from the tree, for various “extremely large cats bring down trees in big smash” reasons.

  December 26

  I have a whole pile of clothes that the children have outgrown. I have some sort of plan for them, but I am unsure how to go about it. I think I can pick out the stitches and create some sort of quilt out of them. The one problem is, my sewing skills suck. I spoke to Olivia about it, and she agrees she will help me through this project. We will be starting tomorrow.

  I got the idea from Xuân talking about the goose feathers over Christmas dinner. She did manage to gather them up and store them in a bag in the shed. Now we need to find a use for them. This idea seems like it might work. We have no other bits of cloth to do things with. Let’s see how it turns out.

  It has been a quiet couple of days here. I think we all have food hangovers from Christmas or something. I also suspect that the couples became a little more “official” over Christmas. There is a lot more touching and covert glances going on between Xuân and Mike, and Olivia and Dan. I think it’s cute. I’m glad they’re happy together. I don’t know what we’ll do if either of these couples breaks up. It will be a whole mess of awkward around here. Yikes.

  * * * Xuân * * *

  Hehe. Crypto is snoring. She also talks in her sleep, little meows. It’s so cute!

  December 27

  Seems as if our water line is clogged. None of us can use our sinks, toilets, or showers. This is a huge problem. We had this all hooked up to the lake. The line was buried along the way. We think that we need to go to the source and figure out what the problem is. Otherwise, we have no running water or ability to wash, or cook, or anything that water provides.

  It’s too difficult to solve the problem today. We are in the midst of a massive snowstorm. We can’t even leave our trailers to see each other. So we don’t go crazy from thirst, I keep putting bowls out the window to collect snow, which I am then melting on the stove and boiling. Each trailer has a case of water purification tablets in case this type of scenario happened. I guess that was smart planning. The others are doing the same in their trailer. I just need to be happy we still have power. The situation is not hopeless yet.

  * * * Xuân * * *

  Snowstorm. Time to break out the adult games. And maybe some sheets over the windows.

  December 28

  It’s day two of the epic snowstorm. I worry for our gorals. We have no way to get to them. I pray their heater is holding out. I hung myself out the kitchen window to try and sweep some of the snow off the solar panels on our roof. We still have power so far. When Mike saw what I was doing from next door, he soon followed suit.

  We are trying everything to stave off boredom now. David and I are doing puppet shows for the kids, putting on movie after movie, playing “Eye-Spy,” and reading books. I have some inkling as to what’s going on next door. Let’s just say that I may toss the idea of a quilt out the window and make blinds instead.

  In spite of all our best efforts, the kids are getting a little stir-crazy being cooped up here. I can’t blame them. I feel the exact same way. This is awful. I never thought I’d want to be out in that mess. Sebastian can’t go outside and is using our bathroom as his as well. It’s a little gross. I have folded up our table and chairs to give the children a little extra room to run. We need some way to get rid of our excess energy here. The one bonus of this massive snow dump is that there are no zombies. If the living can’t move around in it, then there is no way the dead can, either. As Monty Python once said, “Always look on the bright side of life.”

  * * * Xuân * * *

  Snowstorm continues. Writing is boring right now, so I won’t.

  December 30

  The snow finally stopped this morning. I couldn’t get the front door of the trailer open. We were trapped! It was absolutely ridiculous. I ended up climbing out the kitchen window and making my way to the front to dig our way out. The snow wasn’t as deep as we’d feared; it had just blown against both trailers’ doors in these massive drifts.

  When Xuân saw what our plan was, she shimmied out of her trailer the same way and joined me, along with Olivia. The men were all too large to fit through the trailer windows. We dug them out and went to survey the damage.

  The gorals were hungry and thirsty, but alive. We milked Doogoo and replenished their food and water. I must say that those are some hardy animals. They have been through a lot over the past while.

  The hydroponics shed needed some work. The boys got to it right away, and I think most of our plants will live. A couple of lights died, and some wiring came loose under the snow, but it’s all fixable.

  The good news is that whatever was blocking our water line seems to have come loose. We have water again. The pressure is a bit less than what it was, but it seems to be flowing. We will still boil it before using it in cooking and cleaning our plates, but it’s there. This is something to be thankful for. Hopefully, our luck holds out. I don’t know what we would have done to unclog the line. We are being extra careful with our water at the moment, because, for all we know, whatever was blocking it is still in there. It may be organic, and it may be bad for us. The last thing we need is a case of dysentery, or worse.

  * * * Xuân * * *

  Snowstorm over. Sore.

  December 31/January 1

  Well, Happy New Year everyone! We actually stayed up with the kids, all huddled around the floor on pillows, to ring in the New Year together. There was no ball dropping, no fireworks going off to recognize it. Just us as a group. We sang Auld Lang Syne (did you know there were several verses, and it’s about drinking?), and drank some wine to mark the occasion. It’s amazing to think that we abandoned our homes in October, and we’re still here, toughing it out in the wilderness. We are surviving, and maybe even thriving, in the face of adversity. I am amazed at how far we’ve come.

  I don’t think I have a New Year’s resolution. I don’t know what I would resolve to do—be a better first aid practitioner? A better gardener? Mother? Wife? I suppose I could always say that; I’m just not sure how to do it.

  I can’t believe how time has flown out here. If we were ever to go back to the city, I believe it would be a huge shock to us. I think we would all do it; no questions asked. We would definitely want to be a part of whatever rebuilding needed to be done. But I think that at t
his point, we would miss what we have out here. It would be so strange to be surrounded by people—if there are any left at this point. I wonder how the kids would handle it.

  * * * Xuân * * *

  The water pipe isn’t blocked anymore. I’m worried it was a zombie blockage. I couldn’t think of a way to unblock the water pipe other than a very huge drain snake, which might pull up bits of eyeball and zombie meat. You know what, it’s better not to know and just use preventative measures.

  Boiling water like mad. Who knows what kind of gross shit comes from them? Or whatever was blocking it. Like rocks. Yeah. Rocks. I can go with that. Rocks were blocking the pipe.

  Hmm. I think we need something other than water to drink. I mean, it might not be safe anymore, so we should maybe have something a bit stronger…

  January 2

  I am sick and tired of the cold. What I wouldn’t give for a lovely, zombie-free beach right about now. I am dreaming about being able to lie in a beach chair on the sand, under an umbrella, sipping a piña colada, while listening to the waves on the sand. The one benefit of our lifestyle is that if we do get to go back, I will look killer in a bathing suit. Very few carbs, strict exercise regimen, and food with little to no preservatives or chemicals. We have turned into lean, mean, zombie-killing machines (with the exception of the children, of course).