The Storm (5 page)

              “Dada, Mama” came from Paul as he rolled over onto Stacy’s leg.

              “What time is it?” asked Stacy.

              With a quick chuckle, I gave my usual morning reply, “time for you to make me breakfast in bed.”

              Stacy just stared with an expression that cried exasperation. “Not funny. Do we even have power?”

              Remembering the night before and what had happened, my senses returned quickly and sharpened. Reality hit home. Sobered up instantly from a deep sleep, I stood and walked around the room to check appliances. Not surprisingly, all were dead. “I think it’s probably out all over but let me check the breakers. Maybe we’ll get lucky,” I said with a little smile to offer some reassurance.

              The basement was dark, but some light was coming in through the window and I found my way to the breaker box. The DC area gets plenty of wicked thunderstorms in the summer, and it’s not uncommon to have the power go out and the master breaker trip, but every one of them had fired this time. It struck me as odd, but I reset every switch and then waited a few seconds before turning the master breaker. With fingers crossed, I said aloud, “Wouldn’t this be nice?” The breaker flipped with a clunk sound, and there was nothing. No hum of electricity or sound of devices firing up in the house. As expected, the power was out.

              Returning upstairs, I found the kids awake and alert and Stacy seating them at the kitchen table. “Josh, what am I going to give them for breakfast?”

              “Well, I’m going to pack the cooler with ice from the freezer and put the milk and meats in it. Let’s give them some cereal while we still have milk. Sound good?”

              “Okay. What about us?”

              “Well, I’ll take some untoasted toast” came out with a smirk.

              “You’re not funny this morning.” Stacy wasn’t happy with any of this. At least the deep sleep had put her trembles to rest and the kids woke up thinking they had only experienced a bad dream. It was a nightmare that we couldn’t be awakened from, though we didn’t know if we were still in it or not. People always exclaim that dreams sometimes come true with an optimistic backing. They forget that bad dreams come true too, and this one was just beginning.

              *************************************

              After a bread-and-cheese breakfast with orange juice, it was time to venture out of the house and see what had transpired throughout the neighborhood. We had noticed out of our large pane kitchen window that neighbors were conversing in the street. I took a quick hot shower, and the water still flowed and retained most of its heat. Other than bathing in the dark, I felt good heading into this day. Tabitha was already complaining that she wanted to watch something on TV, and Paulie was running circles around the couch. Time to take the dog for a walk and find out what’s going on. “Stacy, I may be awhile. I might even venture into Castlewood Ridge and see if they have power.”

              “Ok, see you in a while. We will hang out here,” answered Stacy.

              Heading out the door, I could faintly see my breath.
Luckily the house had stayed warm
I thought. Tonight we might need a fire. A few neighbors I didn’t recognize were talking with one I knew well, Adam Greenleaf. Murph and I walked toward them, taking stops as he claimed every bush he could find.

              Mr. Greenleaf was a man in his mid-fifties and a college professor of sociology at the University of Maryland who loved to debate about philosophy and politics. With his unashamedly hardcore liberal politics, he was always fun to engage in conversation. Once, he and Tom came over for some beers and barbecue, and there were fireworks. Tom’s a tea party member. Stacy and I had been caught in a crossfire. Granted, we are middle of the road, that day was like a microcosm of DC politics, all shouting and no resolution or agreement. Still, the food was good and we all went home friends, which is better than how most politicians fare these days. Mr. Greenleaf politely disengaged from the three people he was conversing with and started toward me.

              “Good morning, Josh!” shouted Adam Greenleaf. He was usually perky and outgoing but his zest seemed oddly out of place this morning after the previous night’s events.

              “G’morning” came my quick reply. I always liked Adam, even if I thought some of his social views were a bit farcical. “Crazy night, huh?”

              “Yeah, I was sound asleep and then that alarm went off. I thought there was a fire or tornado close by. Then my radio started crackling and everything went haywire. I haven’t had a sip of alcohol since the misses passed away six years ago but I damn near pulled out a bottle after all that. Prudence got the better of me.” He winked one eye as he finished.

              “Yeah, Stacy and I downed some wine. We knew it was coming, hearing the president’s speech a short time before it happened.”

              “Oh, I missed that. What did he say?”

              “Just a quick warning that power could be out a long, long time. Oh, he also asked us to be nice to each other.”

              Nodding his head and reflecting, Adam spoke, “This isn’t good. Even my watch won’t work. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

              “Yeah, I don’t think anyone has. At least it’s not a hundred degrees outside like when that derecho hit a few years back and we lost power.”

              “Yes, that was unpleasant. Josh, can I walk with you?”

              “Of course.” Murphy was tugging at the leash. He wanted to get his long walk going and was tired of standing around waiting.

              We leisurely strolled down the street and turned heading for Plantation Road. We ended up walking a quarter of a mile passing into the neighborhood next door, Castlewood Ridge. There were large houses there with big bushes in front. Murphy usually reserved this area for pooping because it was as far as we ever walked. I always hated the idea of carrying dog poop in a bag so I would execute a fake pick up if anyone were watching and pocket the bag when I had cleared that street. Adam with his environmental sensibilities would probably frown at me, but I didn’t care. We had walked down the sidewalk of Plantation Road exchanging stories of the previous night when he suddenly stopped.

              “Josh, have you noticed something odd?”

              “I’ve noticed a lot of odd things about today. If you are asking about the traffic lights being out, yeah, I noticed. Maybe I could finally blow through a red light and not worry about the evil cameras getting me,” I said with a chuckle.

              “No, not the traffic lights. The total absence of cars.”

              It was true. I hadn’t been aware of my surroundings, but it suddenly struck me as odd. This was usually a busy avenue, and even though one wouldn’t expect much traffic on a Saturday morning, there had been none.

              “Oh god, Adam. What if the cars don’t work either? I hadn’t even thought of trying mine.”

              After looking down the long empty road with only a couple of other pedestrians in the distance, Adam replied, “Then this is much worse than anyone realizes. I need some time to think.” It was obvious Adam was processing all this on a different wavelength from the rest of us. As a sociology professor, his perspective on society was always different, and he would argue more “enlightened.” Whether right or wrong in normal times, he almost certainly could foresee future events now more clearly than anyone else, and his face revealed what he was thinking.

“Josh, I am going to take a stroll by myself through the Keuka Creek Park. I think more abstractly when I am alone. I have some ideas I need to flesh out and then there are a couple of relevant books at home I will have to consult. May I come by for drinks tonight? I think I will have a glass of wine.”

              “Sure, at seven?”

              “Sevenish. I can’t rely on my watch or phone for time, so I will approximate. See you tonight.”

              “Ok, see ya later,” I replied as I watched him turn and start back for our neighborhood. Adam walked down the road alone and kept looking left and right while nodding his head. Murphy was tugging to turn into Castlewood Ridge. “Okay, Murph. We will go. I guess you can do your business in your favorite spot after all.” Elation at not being lectured over fake picking up dog poop was all I felt instead of other emotions that should have been bubbling to the surface.
Everything had all happened so fast,
I thought, but the pace would only quicken.

*************************************

              The day went by more quickly than expected. I had tried to start both cars, and they were completely defunct. It had taken me a couple of minutes to even get into my car. I’ve grown so accustomed to pushing the unlock button on my key chain that it took me a few tries to remember it wouldn’t work and to use the key. A couple of other neighbors had the same idea and were at a loss as to why their cars didn’t start. Most people stayed in that day with the occasional person talking or walking around outside. Puba and I had chatted in the backyard over the fence, and all was well with her.

              Inside our house, the kids had toys scattered all over the floor while Stacy sat on the couch drained. Dinner time was approaching and Chef Master Myers was going to grill out. After sticking a dozen beers in the cooler to get them cold, I inventoried our fresh meat. “Who wants burgers and dogs?”

              Tabs was quick to shout, “Me, Daddy! And ketchup too!”

              “Oh we’ll definitely have ketchup, baby girl.”

              Tabitha came over and gave me a hug. “I just love you, Daddy. I tried to play doctor with Mommy, but my doctor tool wouldn’t work. It was quiet. I think it needs batteries.” She pressed her shoulders forward and looked at the ground as she spoke. My little princess was all too cute.

              This is one of those moments as a parent that my heart melts and I feel good all over. Her little face looking up at mine and her squeezing my leg while giving her version of a bear hug. “I love you too, pumpkin. Yeah I guess it needs batteries.” No sense in trying to explain solar storms to her, even though I didn’t really understand them myself.

              “Hey, Daddy, I have a question.” She took a deep breath and blinked her eyes a couple of times. Even at this young age, she knew how to be cute and work on someone. “I want to watch something or play a game.”

              “We don’t have power, pumpkin. I wish we could play or watch something too. I have an idea. How about Mommy goes and pulls out some old pictures from the bedroom, and she can show them to you and your brother while I’m out cooking?”

              “Ok daddy. Pictures! Pictures! I can’t wait to see them.”

              Paul heard her and started shouting “Pictures!” as well.

              Stacy found a tub in the bedroom closet filled with hers, mine, and our pictures we had accumulated over a lifetime. That would keep the kids busy for a while. Thinking about what food we had, I figured this would be one of our last normal meals for a while. We still had bread and could make hamburgers and hotdogs as was customary. I had tons of bulgur wheat I’d picked up at LeapMart and wasn’t keen to find out what a spam burger on homemade flatbread would taste like, even though we might be making them soon.

              Setting up in the backyard, I had to choose between gas or charcoal. I figured for something quick like this, it’s better to use the gas and save the charcoal for down the road. Both were in good supply, two full tanks of propane and three bags of charcoal. If anything, I knew we were better stocked than most of our neighbors. This was the first I’d fired up the gas grill this spring and it was always a gamble if it would work properly after a long winter. “Damn,” I muttered. The electronic push button ignition wasn’t working. At least I had plenty of matches, so it was just a minor inconvenience.

              As the grill fired up and warmed, I popped a cold brewski and sat down in my chair. My backyard wasn’t big, only thirty feet by thirty feet. I had built a trellis a few years ago for grapes and typically grew a few veggies each summer, such as tomatoes and green beans. Even if I maxed this space, it wouldn’t be anywhere near enough. The logistics of this new world were beginning to dawn on me.

              The rear gate opened and Adam Greenleaf appeared. “Hey, neighbor. Was walking around and saw the smoke rising and figured you wouldn’t mind if I popped in a bit early. I already ate, so don’t worry about cooking for me.”

              “Sure, yeah. Come on over. Beer?”

              With hesitance, he replied, “I never drink anymore, but I am going to today. I brought a twelve-year-old single malt scotch. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion but wasn’t sure what it would be. I guess now’s a good time, seeing at it’s the end of the world.”

              Leaning forward and spitting some of my beer as a sot would, I rapidly asked, “What the hell do you mean by end of the world?”

              Adam sat down and opened the scotch. As he poured some into a big red cup, it was apparent that some of the scotch was missing and he had already gotten a head start on me. “It’s complicated. Societal collapse has happened many times before and I’m afraid it’s happening now. Scotch?”