Curtain Fall: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 1) (23 page)

John wondered what it all meant, and while he ran he let his mind process, sort, and catalog everything he learned from the beginning of his strange spiritual awakening. That’s how he thought of it all, as an awakening; namely because it changed everything for him. He never understood the relationship between physical and spiritual, but something was happening to him that was changing him, and if it wasn’t a spiritual awakening, then what was it?

Try as he might to focus on his awakening, John’s thoughts kept returning to the tasks at hand, to the preparedness shopping and other chores he needed to complete as soon as possible. Eager to get started with the day, John decided to run the shortest of his four routes, a quick three-mile loop, and turned back toward the house.

When he returned home twenty-five minutes later, Jenna was in the kitchen preparing breakfast, and Adam was at the breakfast table reading John’s newspaper. Adam didn’t seem bothered that John didn’t ask him to go on a run, so John suppressed his annoyance that his son messed up his morning paper. Instead, John walked over to give Jenna a peck on the cheek and said, “I’m gonna go jump in the shower. I’ll be back in a minute.”

While showering, John couldn’t help but consider the luxuries he enjoyed at home, like his hot showers, for one, and how everything would change in a very short time. He was thinking about how the family would shower, and use the toilets when the water stopped flowing. Sanitation was definitely going to be an issue.

He wasn’t worried about the sewers backing up because they had a septic system, but they would need to manage their human waste. Going to the bathroom outside, when the ash was falling, would be both stupid and dangerous. But toilets wasted a lot of water, so when the water wasn’t flowing they’d have to use their camp toilet, or some other field sanitation system, like an empty five-gallon bucket, though he’d have to do something about the odor.

John pulled his own weight as an officer. While a platoon leader in the deserts of the Middle East, he participated in the poo-burning
details with his Soldiers. They would pour gasoline into the half-cut, fifty-five gallon steel drum, and then lite the human waste with a match. Careful to avoid any down-wind exposure, John would stir the burning waste with a steel engineer stake until it was all but gone. He snorted to himself when he thought of doing the same thing in the back yard.

As far as field sanitation went, a hot shower would probably be the least of their concerns. Cleanliness was as important to mental health as it was to physical health, but there was a balance between available resources and individual preference, or comfort. John knew, from experience, that it wasn’t always an easy balance to strike.

Along with burning poo, Desert Storm also forced John to go without a shower for several months. To get around the no-shower issue, he washed himself out of a plastic wash tub, or rinsed with the small solar-shower he brought with him. The solar shower proved handy for washing his face and hair, which was something he did nearly every day, but the limited capacity of the shower bag meant he had to be very conservative with his warm water usage.

For John, washing was about removing the sweat and grime to remain itch free. He knew many men, including his company commander, who went weeks without washing themselves. They looked dirty, and smelled worse. John didn’t fault them, but he couldn’t live like that. If he had the water, and the time, then he washed himself, even if it was with a water bottle

For the most part, John lived out of his Bradley Fighting Vehicle, but it wasn’t a camper. Worse yet, their heater didn’t work, which meant they had a few cold, wet nights, even in the desert. He and his Soldiers, in fact everyone in their mechanized infantry battalion, went without the many comforts of home during that unique desert war.

Much later in his career, John realized that it was safer to be in the open desert than to be on the city streets of Baghdad. Serving in the open desert was inconvenient, but he could see the enemy from a distance. Yet, being able to shower on a Forward Operating Base, or FOB, where the enemy could literally drop a bomb on you, was almost worth
the risk. Having served in both environments, John still wasn’t sure which one he preferred; safety with no comforts, or comforts with an elevated threat.

John knew that of all the conveniences he and his family enjoyed, electricity was the one most loved. The loss of electrical power would be the biggest challenge for them. Solar power capable or not, the ash and dark skies would render it useless. Turning on lights with the flip of a switch was something few people truly appreciated until they couldn’t do it, and John’s family was no exception.

Not long ago, and on a whim, John cut the power to the house by tripping the main circuit breaker. Everyone was dealing with the outage pretty well until Jenna discovered John was responsible for it. He was convinced to turn the power back on or sleep on the couch. Since he wasn’t willing to spend even one night on the couch, especially just to satisfy a dependency issue curiosity, John turned the power back on.

The outage lasted a little over five hours, but it was long enough for everyone to see and appreciate their dependence on electricity. John was the first to admit how much he enjoyed electricity, which was why he was now seriously considering the purchase of a generator, but he told the family they needed to mentally prepare to live without it. No one liked his warning, but they said they could manage without electricity as long as John wasn’t experimenting on them.

John began to lather up with a bar of soap, and he realized that something as simple as bar soap could very well become a luxury item after the disaster. He didn’t know how to make soap, and he didn’t know anyone who could. That meant soap would be in demand and become valuable. The same was true for shampoo, and maybe even deodorant. He figured people would become accustomed to body odor again before the disaster was over.

He dried himself with a clean, soft towel, and once again thought of his first deployment to Iraqi, and how it was necessary to hand-wash all his clothes. At first, his hands were so raw that he could barely use them, but with time he became conditioned and more proficient at washing
his clothes. He wore his Nomex overalls for several days at a time, but he changed his underclothing every night.

He washed his clothes every four days, and then hung them out to dry over the Bradley’s radio antenna. The Bradly looked oddly hillbilly with his laundry hanging all over it, but it was an essential element of his existence, an important part of his survival routine.

John knew cleaning laundry would also be an issue for his family. Adam and Abby were the worst. They were known to go weeks without washing their clothes, and then drop several loads of dirty clothes in the laundry room on one day. It drove Jenna nuts.

Everyone would have to learn to wear their outer clothes for several days at a time. John knew there was no way Jenna could keep up with all their laundry needs during a disaster, especially if they didn’t have power. He wondered if Jenna knew how to hand wash clothes, and he added ‘hand washing’ to his training list.

While at the mirror over the bathroom sink, John squirted a generous portion of shaving cream into his fingers and applied it to his face. No shaving cream or razors meant he’d end up with a beard. He wondered if he could tolerate facial hair. He grew very accustomed to being clean shaven. He knew he would have to consider adapting to the changed environment in ways he never before imagined.

He wondered how Jenna would feel about not shaving her legs or under her arms. For that matter, John wondered how
he’d
feel about Jenna not shaving in those areas.
“And let’s not forget about haircuts
,” thought John. He wasn’t even sure he owned a set of hair clippers, and tried to imagine Jenna going to town on his head with a pair of scissors in her hand. John shuttered and wondered how he’d look with long hair.

After shaving and rinsing his face with warm water, John grabbed his toothbrush. He applied paste to the toothbrush and got to work on his mouth. He wondered how long it would be before they’d be able to buy toothbrushes again. Or better yet, how long did a toothbrush last? If worse came to worse, John figured they could probably make do with a single toothbrush, but that would be problematic in many ways.

John remembered reading a story about three WWII pilots who were shot down over Europe at the height of the Nazi occupation in France. As the pilots made their way across several countries, avoiding the enemy by moving cautiously with the French resistance, they hid one night in a sympathizer’s farmhouse. The gracious owner allowed them to freshen up in his bathroom, and while doing so each pilot took the opportunity to use the man’s toothbrush.

The following day, while the pilots resumed their escape and evasion trek across the country, one of the men mentioned how nice it was to have been able to brush his teeth after three weeks of running and hiding. The other men mentioned they also used the farmer’s toothbrush.

John knew the feeling. He couldn’t stand having slimy film on his teeth. In a pinch, they could fashion a toothbrush out of the crushed end of an oak twig. As for toothpaste, John had plenty of baking soda, but he wondered if Jenna knew of some natural toothpaste. He had no idea what Native Americans did for tooth care, but he was sure they did something.

During his relatively short stint in the bathroom, John managed to work up an extensive list of essential toiletries. He wasn’t sure they really needed all those extra supplies, but he knew that having them would make a big difference when it came to enduring the disaster.

As he rinsed and spit into the sink, he noticed he nicked his chin with the razor. He held a piece of tissue to the cut and considered the status of their medical supplies.

They had a pretty good first aid kit assembled. It consisted of a black plastic footlocker that was loaded with a variety of medical supplies. They didn’t always tap into that supply box, but they did, from time to time, so John decided to check it before heading to Costco. He knew they needed, at a minimum, some hand-sanitizer, and he added that to his growing mental list as well.

Thoughts of Abby’s medical needs also screamed at him. Being a Type-1 diabetic was difficult in the best of times, and John was very
concerned about how to provide for his daughter’s care when everything around them fell apart.

He knew he would somehow have to convince Abby’s endocrinologist to extend her insulin prescription beyond the normal issue protocols. He grabbed his phone to check the time and realized the doctors’ office wouldn’t be open for another hour. He added Abby’s meds to his to-do list, and gave it priority status.

John finished dressing and found Jenna sitting at the kitchen table, reading the morning paper, and drinking a cup of herbal tea. The kids weren’t in the kitchen, so John raised the subject of Abby’s medical needs by asking, “Honey, when did we get Abby’s last shipment of insulin?”

Jenna laid the paper on the table and looked up at John. She thought for a moment, and then John saw the color drain from her face. She leaned forward and buried her head in her arms, her brown hair cascading over the paper and around her coffee mug.

“Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” said John, as he walked around the table to put his arms around Jenna.

She looked up, eyes on the verge of tears, and asked, “John, what does that mean for Abby? What does the disaster mean for her and her diabetes?” She cleared her eyes with a fingertip, and waited for John to answer.

John considered the careless manner in which he raised the subject of Abby’s diabetes, but when he thought about it a bit longer, there really was no better place or time to discuss it. He also didn’t think Jenna would take it so hard. He swallowed down his own rising emotions and considered what the disaster would really mean for Abby’s survival.

As a diabetic, she was entirely dependent on a medical support system, a system that needed a stable and predictable world, not one turned upside down. John said, “Jenna. I love you . . . and I’m sorry, but I think we can stock up. Maybe we can get enough insulin to last six months or more. By then, who knows what shape the world will be in, or what shape Abby will be in? We can’t worry about the potential negative aspect of her health right now, but we can take steps to ensure her
survival.” He massaged her shoulders as she slumped onto her arms on the table. “Didn’t she just get a three-month supply?” asked John.

“Yes,” was all Jenna could manage from her head down position.

“Okay. Then I’ll call her doctor on the way into town and we’ll see if I can convince her to extend another prescription for Abby. We’ll have to pay for it out of pocket, but under the circumstances I really don’t think that will be a problem.”

She raised her head and stood, pushing the chair back with her legs as she rose. The legs of the chair screeched across the stone floor, and John tenderly turned her around and wrapped his arms around her. She buried her head into his neck and wept softly.

“We’ll take control of what we can,” said John. “We’ll do everything we can for Abby, and for Adam, and for each other. Beyond that, you and I both know, it’s in God’s hands. But a lot can happen between then and now, so let’s not allow ourselves to get bogged down with the what-if’s . . . OK?”

She pulled back a little after wiping her tears on John’s shirt and said, “OK.”

He smiled and hugged her again. “We’re not the only ones facing such danger. There’ll be a lot of people needing unavailable medications. But I have faith we’ll be able to take care of Abby.” As an afterthought, John added, “At least our kids won’t be cold and hungry. That would break your heart too.”

“I know,” she managed. “It’s just so unfair for them, for the kids. They deserve to have the kind of childhood we had. To be happy, and look forward to being happy in the future.”

“They will be happy if we get them through the disaster,” replied John. “If we keep them alive and healthy, they’ll find happiness. I’m sure of it.”