The Carbon Diaries 2015

by Saci Lloyd

  There’s a rumor going around that cholera’s broken out in the east. It can’t be true. That’s like, so medieval.

  Fri., Dec. 11

  Every day gets stranger and stranger. Like Alice in Wonderland, cept it’s real. Mum’s finally with Kim, she called us from the medical center in tears. Kim’s got a bad fever and can’t be moved. I could hear Mum crying down the phone. “But this place is making her worse, Nick—it’s nothing but filthy tents and dead bodies. I’ve got to get her out of here.”

  It’s been confirmed. There’s an outbreak of cholera in Canning Town.

  “Cholera?” cried Mousy Woman. “Oh, you’ve got to be joking. Which world are we living in?”

  “The Third World now,” GPJ muttered. The room was suddenly full of people shouting.

  The woman who ran the sick bay got to her feet and held up her hand. “I’ll tell you as much as I know. Cholera is an acute intestinal infection and it’s spread mostly by contaminated water.”

  “What are the symptoms?”

  She checked off her fingers. “Acute diarrhea, vomiting, massive fluid loss. If it goes too far the body goes into shock, coma and . . . But mostly it’s treatable. You’ve just got to get fluids back into the patient—in severe cases, intravenously. The trouble is that a lot of the time cholera’s spread by infected people who don’t look sick.”

  GPJ cleared her throat. “What can we do here?”

  “Okay, we’ve got to be really strict about food and personal hygiene—particularly about making sure the drinking water’s clean. Then we’ve got to stay away from other people. Healthy-looking carriers and big groups of people are the fastest way to spread the disease.”

  Dad raised his arm. “But we can’t do that. We’ve got to bring our daughter home.”

  The nurse sighed. “Then you can’t bring her here. You’ll have to set up a quarantine area in your own place.”

  GPJ looked around at us all. Dirty and exhausted. “I guess we’ve got two choices now—either we wait for the authorities to come, or we start sorting this mess out ourselves. I say screw waiting—where were they when we needed them before? We’ve proved we can look after ourselves once—and we can do it again now. What do you say, home for Christmas?”

  A great murmur swept across the hall. People struggling out of blankets, standing up, grabbing one another’s hands. GPJ laughed and raised her fist. “Let’s do it!”

  You gotta hand it to that woman. She is some kind of hero.

  Sat., Dec. 12

  There’s looting across the city, and it’s spreading. The mayor’s ordered loads of police to stop search-and-rescue and get back to the streets to stop the raiding. The cholera’s spread out from Canning Town. 5 dead overnight and 105 hospitalized today from Beckton and Silvertown. All water’s been cut off in the east to stop people even washing with contaminated supply. The only way they can get water is from UN tankers. The army’s set up a cordon around the area and soldiers are guarding the perimeter wearing those biochemical white boiler suits and masks.

  Mum’s gone back to Soho and Dad and me went over to our house this morning to start getting it ready for Kim. When we got there, we just stopped dead and stared at the mess. The water’s all gone, but it’s left behind the most massive, grossest, stinking pile of mud. Dad swayed on his feet, he’s still so weak. “Right, we’ll just have to live upstairs to begin with.”

  I looked at him. I think I finally understand about pretending everything is normal. If we don’t we’ll go under.

  Sun., Dec. 13

  There’s talk that Soho’s going to be cordoned off, too. Queen Elizabeth Hospital down the road has opened up again to take in cholera cases from across the river. They’re setting up an exclusive diarrhea ward. Puke. I overheard Mum and Dad rowing about it. Dad wants to take Kim down there.

  “No way!” shouted Mum. “She’s coming home.”

  “But we don’t know how to care for her properly, Julia.”

  “You haven’t seen these places. I have. They’re where people go to die.”

  Dad dragged his hand across his face. “Don’t say that.”

  Mum sighed. “I want her home.”

  He nodded.

  Wed., Dec. 16

  Our street. For days now it’s been nothing but work, work, work. Everywhere you look there’s people zooming about with wheel-barrows, chopping, digging, clearing, slinging sandbags. We look like medieval peasants . . . and the strange thing is everyone keeps throwing back their heads and laughing. Adi came around with Claire and Stace. We screamed when we saw one another, couldn’t even speak. We are the dirty angels, yeah!

  Loads of people have helped us cos of Kim. The whole street’s pooled all their carbon points to power up saws, drills, water pumps, and whenever the grid powers back up they jump into life. We moved back to the top floor of our house at midnight—and only just in time. Mum and Kieran are gonna smuggle Kim out of the ward tomorrow. I was clearing the stairs this afternoon when Dad yelled from the bathroom. I ran up.

  “Look!” he cried, pointing at the running tap. “Water!”

  The other good news is the looting’s under control. But not before they shot 20 people. 4 shops have opened up on Lee Road. All the children on the street have gone down to get food for everyone, if there is any.

  Thurs., Dec. 17

  Finally, finally, my sister’s home! Between them, Mum and Kieran carried her into the hall and when I caught sight of her face, I nearly threw up. She’s bad. Kieran’s in my room now. I took him in some soup, but he pushed it to one side.

  “We just sat there for days. Sometimes a body floated past. I wanted to wade in and tie it down, something . . . but I can’t swim.” He turned to face the wall. “I see it every time I close my eyes.”

  Sat., Dec. 19

  I’ve lined up for 2 days at the hospital for antibiotics for Kim. They’ve cleared out the reception, turned it into an emergency room, and there’s tents set up all over the car park. It was so horrible. At one point they wheeled in this little kid. He was curled up on a bed and he kept groaning, “Please don’t inject me,” but the doctor pushed a syringe into his skull and began to stitch up a deep cut in the back of his head. A man sat next to the boy, holding his hand so tight.

  “I waited and waited for help, but no one came. No one came for my son.”

  The doctor glanced up, but kept on stitching. Then two new patients were rushed in. A girl cried out in pain. The doctor rushed off to help.

  I got chlorine tablets, but no antibiotics for my sister. We’ve got to pray she’s not got cholera. I feel so useless.

  Sun., Dec. 20

  Kim keeps throwing up again and again. She’s dead cold, but her sheets are soaked in sweat. The army shot 6 people for trying to escape from Canning Town. 11 more people died overnight.

  Mon., Dec. 21

  Mum’s birthday. She heard about antibiotics being given out in a UN emergency center in Crystal Palace on the radio and jumped straight on my bike, cycled 15 Ks, lined up all day, and then cycled home. She nearly collapsed when she came in the door, but she reached into her pocket and pulled out a packet.

  “Laura, look! I’ve got doxycycline for Kim. Seven days’ supply.”

  She dropped the pack, her hand was trembling so much.

  I gave her a Shiseido moisturizer sachet that I’d found around the back of the pigpen. She took it in her shaky, gnarled hands and then burst into tears.

  Kim’s got to start getting better now.

  Tues., Dec. 22

  Unbelievable! I was washing pans out the back when I heard Arthur calling my name from the street.

  “Laura! He’s here! He’s back! Laura, come now!” I threw down my rag and ran thru the house—out onto the street—and there he was . . . Larkin! I ran over and just flung my arms around his neck and he threw his head back and squealed with joy. Wonderpig!

  The whole neighborhood threw their tools down and gathered around as I took him back to his pen. When
I closed the latch, everybody cheered. I tell you, that pig is so cool. He’s the total Pig of Good Fortune of our street.

  Wed., Dec. 23

  When is Kim going to get better? The antibiotics should be kicking in by now. It’s too dangerous to move her and we can’t get a doctor to come out. The scariest thing is her nails and fingertips. They’re starting to turn blue.

  Adi came around and I buried my head on his shoulder and cried and cried and cried.

  He whispered, “You’ve got to hold on.”

  “Why?”

  “Because . . . is all.”

  I burst into tears again. “I can’t go on like this, Adi . . . what’s going to happen—”

  He stopped me. “Don’t. Day by day is all. And tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.”

  I stared at him. “Christmas? You’re joking, right?”

  “Nah, mate. Leave me out of it—that’s God’s joke, that one.”

  Thurs., Dec. 24

  2 A.M. I found Mum slumped asleep by Kim’s side. I shook her shoulder. “Mum, go and lie down. I’ll watch her.”

  She ran her hands over her filthy hair. “Okay, but call me, if . . . if anything . . .”

  “I will.”

  So I’m here with my sister now. I watch her chest rise and fall, terrified the next breath will be the last. It’s dark outside, but there’s a new moon shining thru the window. I’ve never felt so powerless. I lean forward and grab Kim’s arm, suddenly furious.

  “Come on, you bitch. Fight.”

  I look down at her pale, thin face, so different . . . and then the most amazing thing happens. She takes in a long, deep, shuddering breath—and a red flush sweeps across her cheek and neck. It’s impossible, but it’s happening right in front of me. Life is flooding back into my sister.

  “Kim . . . Kim!”

  She opens her eyes for a moment. Recognizes me. I squeeze her hand. She squeezes back and then falls asleep again.

  Fri., Dec. 25

  I’ve never had such a beautiful day. It’s our own miracle. It’s evening now and we’re all in Kim’s room. The candle’s nearly finished so I’m taking everything in before the light dies. It flickers over Dad’s face, makes him look about 20 years old. He’s got tight hold of Kim’s hand. Mum’s leaning back against the wall, silent, but she’s got this tiny little smile playing around the corners of her mouth as she gazes at my sleeping sister, breathing peacefully.

  Sat., Dec. 26

  Adi and me went around to Arthur’s this afternoon. When he saw us he held up a finger and dashed out of the kitchen, reappearing a moment later with a bottle of rum and 3 glasses.

  “Always keep a secret stash, that’s what I say!” He lowered himself down onto a chair and sat a moment, with the low winter sun falling across his face.

  “Ah, it feels good to be alive!”

  He took both our hands in his. “This is what it felt like in the war. Every day I was just so grateful to still be here.”

  Mon., Dec. 28

  Kim’s definitely getting better. She even had a scrap with Mum this afternoon. Talk about music to my ears. Looked at my carbon card this afternoon—I made it, still got half a block left. Unbelievable.

  Tues., Dec. 29

  They think they’ve controlled the cholera outbreak. No one died last night.

  Wed., Dec. 30

  All clear, again.

  Thurs., Dec. 31

  Everyone’s still working like dogs cos there are loads of families not back home yet. But something big happened today. Tracey Leader gunned her Jeep down the street. God knows where she’s been. She parked up, got out, lit up a cig, and looked up and down the road. It was like she was laughing at us. Everything went dead silent. Mops, brushes, hammers, drills all suddenly still. And then Mousy Woman—of all people—stepped forward.

  “No,” she said.

  Tracey looked her up and down.

  “You wot?”

  “No more Jeep, no more black market. We know . . .”

  Tracey snorted. “Course you know. It’s youse lot buying off me.”

  “No. You’re wrong. Not us lot.” Mousy shoved past Tracey, lifted her arm high, and smashed her hammer on the trunk of the Jeep.

  Tracey went to drag her away, but suddenly Loud Dad was there. He pushed Tracey to the ground and dragged his chain saw across the Jeep door, spraying sparks everywhere. And then a crossbow dart thudded into the front tire. In 30 seconds the Jeep was covered in crazed neighbors, jumping all over it like a gang of jackals—smashing, bending, ripping, and rocking—until, with a huge shove, they flipped the Jeep over on its roof.

  Mousy Woman turned to Tracey. “Tracey Leader,” she gasped. “The law might not be able to touch you, but we can. Now clean up or piss off!”

  It was about the best thing I’ve seen all year.

  So, it’s the last day. I wish I had some big words to finish, but I’ve got nothing. I made it thru—but my family, the angels, college, the future . . . I don’t know. Like Adi says, it’s just one day at a time from now on. That’s the only thing I got left.

  Celsius and the Metric System are two foremost systems of measurements used in England and throughout the world. In order to determine the Fahrenheit equivalent of a Celsius temperature, multiply it by 9/5 and add 32. For example, 43°C × 9/5 = 77.4. Add 32 and the Fahrenheit temperature becomes 109.4°.

  Metric system conversion calculators may be found at www.google.com and www.metric-conversions.org. Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary and www.m-w.org also offer a complete table of metric system equivalents.

  ECOTERMS

  alternative fuels: Materials other than traditional fuels (such as fossil fuels) which can be used for energy.

  black market: Underground commerce in which applicable taxes and/or trade regulations are being avoided.

  carbon rationing: A government-regulated allowance provided for activities that emit carbon dioxide. Imposed in order to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and slow the progress of global warming.

  carbon points: A unit of value placed on carbon emissions, divided into one-point coolers, ten-point chillers, and 100-point cubes. See carbon rationing.

  category-five hurricane: The highest degree on the Saffir-Simpson Hurricane scale. Has sustained winds of more than 155 miles per hour.

  cholera: An acute form of gastroenteritis. Cholera can survive for long periods in aquatic environments and is highly contagious.

  climate change: A shift from the normal averages of a region’s weather pattern, including temperature, precipitation, wind, and other factors, over a period of time.

  CO2 Emissions: Carbon dioxide (CO2) released into the atmosphere by the burning of fossil fuels. A direct contributor to the greenhouse effect.

  desalinization: The process by which salts and other minerals are removed from water to make it fit for human consumption.

  estuary: A body of water formed where freshwater from rivers and streams flows into an ocean. Also a rich biological environment.

  fossil fuel: One of any number of fuels, including natural gas, coal, and oil, which are formed from the remains of ancient organic life.

  free-trading system: A market that is free from government intervention or regulation.

  full electric: A vehicle which operates solely on electrical power sources, as opposed a hybrid, which combines electric and fossil fuel energy sources.

  globalization: Refers to all aspects of life becoming more similar across the globe, including social, political, and cultural norms. Driven by trade and investment as well as information technology.

  greenhouse gas: Certain gases that, when released through emissions or other processes, remain in the earth’s atmosphere and trap heat. These gases are essential for keeping the earth habitable for humans, but too many can lead to unsafe surface warming, known as the greenhouse effect.

  hydrogen fuel cell: A device that uses the reaction between hydrogen in the cell and oxygen from the air to create electricity, heat, and water
.

  hydrogen combustion: The burning of hydrogen with oxygen to produce electricity, heat, and water.

  kinetic device: A device powered by movement rather than electricity.

  Kyoto Protocol: An international effort to reduce greenhouse gases, particularly from cars and factories, to deter climate change.

  nuclear: Using or derived from the energy of atomic nuclei.

  nuclear stations (nuclear power plants): Facilities capable of producing electricity using the energy of atomic nuclei.

  offshore wind: Air that, because of its cooler temperature, is pulled inland by the warmer, low-pressure air on land.

  renewable: In energy, a source is renewable if it is inexhaustible (such as the sun) or replaced by growth (such as wood). Oil would be an example of a non-renewable resource.

  San Andreas Fault: A geologic fault running approximately 800 miles through the state of California. Marks the boundary between two tectonic plates, the Pacific and the North American, which cause seismic activity in the area.

  vegan: A person who excludes all animal products from his or her diet and lifestyle.

  wind turbine: A windmill which converts the energy of wind into electricity for storage and later use.

  Want to learn more about living green?

  Follow these EcoLinks:

  carbonneutral.com

  The Carbon Neutral company helps businesses and individuals reduce CO2 emissions. Calculate your family’s carbon footprint, dedicate a tree, or buy a present in the CarbonNeutral Shop.

  earth911.com

  Make every day Earth Day. Visit earth911.com for news about the environment and learn how you can reduce, reuse, and recycle in your community.

  gogreeninitiative.org

  Encourage your teachers and principal to Go Green. Find out about composting, recycling, and other changes your school can make to improve the environment.