We couldn’t convince old Ms. Murphy to move up higher in the building. She didn’t want to leave her unit and she said she definitely didn’t want to live with anyone else. I can’t say I blame her. She’s been living alone since her husband died nearly 20 years ago. I dropped off a few more bottled waters and a couple hot dogs I warmed on the cook stove since she has no way of cooking for herself. I also left her half our orange juice. Without refrigeration, I don’t want it to spoil. She was very appreciative, and I told her I’d check on her later tonight. She asked about what had happened last night with all the shooting on the other side of the building. I wasn’t sure exactly what to tell her. I didn’t want to worry the old gal, since there’s nothing she’s going to be able to do about what’s going on. Therefore, I just told her that there were some bad people out looting and that they had come to our building and broken into several of the units across from us. I explained that she needed to stay put and not open her door to anyone but me for the time being. I also recommended that she stay away from the windows since she apparently likes to watch birds in the courtyard trees with Felix (she has a rocking chair butted right up near her living room windows). The 1st floor units are just half a flight up and offer a nice view of the lower tree branches where the birds and squirrels often congregate. I explained that people were getting crazy shooting things around town (she might be old, but she’s heard the gunfire) and that stray bullets were blocked by the building’s brick exterior but could pass easily through windows. I also mentioned that if these people saw her in her unit, they might try to break in thinking she had supplies. She seemed satisfied with my explanation but said Felix would not be happy about not being able to watch the wildlife.
After we got done relocating the Ms. Williams and her son, we moved an extra sofa from their unit out into the stairwell, leaving it in the stairway between the entry door and where the stairs begin. It creates a pretty good obstacle. While it might not stop intruders from getting inside and up the stairs, like the plywood I put over the entry door, it will certainly slow their advance and make life more difficult for them. I’ve heard that with looters, it’s often just a simple deterrent that is enough to push them on to easier pickings because they’re looking for quick and easy access to their targets.
I can only pray that what I’ve heard is correct.
12:23 p.m.
So far, things seem a little calmer outside today. But now we have a new problem to contend with. The stench issuing from Ms. Laurel’s condo is absolutely horrific. Something has to be done, and I’m afraid I’m going to be the one who has to do it. I really don’t want to go down there, but if I don’t, we’re not going to be able to stay here. The smell is overpowering, and no matter how much air freshener we spray, it never goes away. It’s seeping into everything, everywhere. The kids are dying, constantly gagging and complaining. Even our food is starting to absorb the smell, and when we try to eat (a desire we’re having less frequently since the smell is destroying our appetites), the food tastes absolutely disgusting.
1:17 p.m.
What I just got back from was one of the most disgusting things I’ve ever had to go through.
I handed out medical face masks and handkerchiefs to help with blocking the stench and then took Kate and Bradley (Ms. William’s 16-year-old son) downstairs where we broke into Ms. Laurel’s second-floor unit directly below ours. At the time, I didn’t think that the smell could get worse…I was wrong. Inside the unit, it was a hot, steamy, stink-bath.
After a few seconds of retching and dry-heaving, I left Kate and Bradley in the hallway and went inside. It didn’t take long to find Ms. Laurel…what was left of her at least. I followed the sound of swarming flies into the living room. She was laid out on the sofa and very badly decomposed. I almost lost it when I found her. The maggots were doing their best to make quick work of her. The sight and smell were overwhelming, and I had no desire for anyone else to have to suffer through what I was experiencing. Therefore, I found a blanket to cover her with, then I went back and got Kate and Bradley to assist me.
We had to get the body outside to rid ourselves of the stench of death that was overwhelming our building. The problem we found ourselves facing was that we had a body in the midst of decomposition, in an upstairs condo unit, in a building that currently had the doors locked, in a neighborhood that was literally under attack by roving gangs of some apparently very dangerous people.
The first obstacle we faced was getting poor Ms. Laurel’s body off the couch. She was a gelatinous blob of body fluids and decomposing flesh. The second problem was that we were on the second floor of the condo building. We had no desire to carry the disgusting mess Ms. Laurel presented downstairs, risking covering ourselves in bodily sludge along the way, in turn, possibly exposing ourselves to unknown and potentially deadly pathogens along the way. Thankfully, Ms. Laurel was lying on a blanket on the sofa, but we didn’t want to try to move her far since we were afraid she’d start coming apart on us along the way. We therefore maneuvered a big comforter onto the floor beside the sofa. Then we pulled the sofa cushions (with the remains of Ms. Laurel still on them) down onto the comforter. Once we had her positioned, we bound the comforter around the remnants with some heavy string we found in the kitchen. Then, we quickly (since the smell was threatening to overpower us, even with our face masks on) moved the entire mess into the kitchen. From there, we opened the kitchen window and hefted Ms. Laurel’s wrapped and tied body up and out the window.
It was a sad and certainly unceremonious funeral, but it was really the best we could do considering the circumstances. As Ms. Laurel landed, she splashed a stray dog that was sniffing around the other body in the back alley. Now we have two bodies in the alley and three in the front courtyard. What is our world coming to and how bad is the smell going to get? We felt terrible about the whole situation, but we consoled ourselves with the fact that Ms. Laurel is hopefully in a better place now. And what the hell else are we supposed to do? It’s not like they teach you how to handle this kind of stuff in school or at work.
Looks like I’m going to have to go back outside later tonight and try to move the corpses away from our building to try to keep the smell to a minimum. Yet another activity I’m not looking forward to.
We left all the windows in Ms. Laurel’s unit open to try to air the place out, and we threw anything else that had been saturated by body fluid out the kitchen window. If nothing else, hopefully the things we tossed out will act as a deterrent to others trying to get into our building. The smell alone would be enough to keep me away if I didn’t have to live here.
Just as we finished with our grizzly work, we heard gunshots nearby. I took Bradley back upstairs to his mom, where I told them to lock themselves in their new condo. Before I left, I checked their rear entry stairs. All the B side units in our stack exit to an open-air staircase that is protected by a caged gate at the bottom. The gate is locked, but it’s not quite as secure as the A-units’ enclosed rear stairwell, the bottom of which is fitted with a steel door built into the building’s brick exterior. However, I double-checked that the street-level entry gate was closed and locked, and I chained it shut with a bike lock I found down there. With this done, I waited in the stairway landing separating our two units until I heard the Williams’ lock themselves in before heading back to my own unit. They don’t have a weapon, and neither of them know how to use a gun, so I guess it’s up to me to act as communal security guard.
5:07 p.m.
I made the last of the hot dogs tonight and opened several cans of baked beans. The kids were happy with the hot dogs – not so much with the beans. Violet absolutely refused to touch them. Finally, not wanting to waste food, I mashed them up for her and drizzled maple syrup over top of them. Then she was at least willing to have a few bites before Dylan finished them for her.
I took several of the dogs and one can of beans over to Ms. Williams and Bradley, then I took some down to Ms. Murphy too. All were ver
y appreciative. I didn’t want to tell them that I did it mostly because I was afraid the hot dogs were going to go bad if we didn’t use them soon. I served the hot dogs rolled up in tortillas (several of which were already molded and had to be tossed) instead of buns since we were out of buns and I realized that the remaining tortillas weren’t likely to last much longer. I noticed that many of the potatoes in our 5-lb bag were starting to sprout (several on the bottom of the bag had gone soft), but there isn’t much I can do about it. I don’t want to waste the propane boiling a bunch of potatoes, and we’re not desperate enough to eat them raw, so I guess they’re going to go the route of poor Ms. Laurel – out the window. I think our remaining butter is soon headed in that direction as well, although when I was a kid, I remember my grandparents leaving butter out on the kitchen table for extended periods of time, so I’m not really sure how long it will last. These summer temps and the humidity of the past few days aren’t doing much to help our food preservation efforts.
My own dinner on the other hand consisted of a can of fruit cocktail. It was about all I could stomach considering that I was still suffering from olfactory post-traumatic stress due to the whole Ms. Laurel debacle. Every time I think of eating something solid (especially something like hot dogs), I start having visions of her lying on her couch, her face full of wriggling, writhing maggots, and that horrible smell would come wafting back to me. The soft canned fruit was the only thing I could force myself to ingest.
9:14 p.m.
It was reasonably quiet throughout the majority of the early evening hours. Gunfire, while ever-present now, was held largely to a minimum and was distant enough not to be too worrisome. Huh, that’s not something I ever thought I’d write, the gunfire was “distant enough not to be too worrisome.” Boy, that’s great. What a world we live in now.
Anyway, at around seven this evening, we temporarily moved the mattresses out of the living room and invited our neighbors over. Ms. Williams (who’s first name we now know is Brenda) and Bradley arrived first. Ms. Murphy (who later in the evening I found out was approaching her 80th birthday in the next few weeks) even made the trip up the two flights of stairs to visit our condo.
We lit candles, mostly provided by Ms. Murphy (she’s an old-school kind of gal who likes burning candles even when the apocalypse ISN’T upon us), broke out the playing cards and board games, and made a night of it. Kate whipped up some hors d’oeurves – nothing fancy, just some peanut butter on crackers, green and black olives, chips, pretzels, and sweet pickles, but everyone seemed to enjoy them.
Our cozy atmosphere made for a pleasant evening, and had it not been for the circumstances surrounding the situation, we might actually have really enjoyed ourselves. But I could tell that other than Violet, Dylan, and Ms. Murphy (who maybe I should rename “Old Ironsides” due to her unflappable personality), the rest of us were on edge. Kate, Brenda, and I would all look nervously toward the nearest window whenever gunfire erupted, but old Ms. Murphy stayed focused purely on the game, almost as though there was money was at stake. She’s definitely one tough old bird.
While we played cards, Bradley played board games with Violet and Dylan. I think they liked having another kid – albeit a significantly older one – to spend time with. And Bradley was great with them.
It made me wish we’d made these contacts with our neighbors before the flu. Everyone stayed to themselves before. It’s a shame that it took something as horrendous as this to bring us all together.
10:38 p.m.
After the kids fell asleep, Kate and I had some time to talk. It wasn’t a fun conversation, but it was one we needed to have, although I’m not sure it really got us anywhere. We discussed our future, the kids’ futures, the world’s future, and what our plan should be moving forward. I can’t say we came up with much. Having been cut off from any source of outside news for the last few days, we really have no idea what’s going on in our little suburb of Chicago let alone the rest of the city or across the nation. From all outward indications (burning fires, gunfire, and roving gangs of killers), it’s not looking too good here. Therefore, I’d have to imagine it’s not much better in the rest of Chicago, and I’m willing to assume it’s probably about the same in other major cities. What it’s like in smaller towns and rural areas, well, one can only guess – might be better. I can’t imagine it being worse.
Kate and I both agreed that we really don’t have any other option at the moment other than to continue sheltering in place. If we can wait this thing out, maybe people will get some sort of governing structure or at least a little law and order in place…although I have my doubts the way things have been looking outside lately. After the attack on our condo building the other day, it seems we’re still far from things shaking themselves out.
I mentioned to Kate that if things stay calm tomorrow, maybe I should go out and see if I can meet up with someone from around town who might know more about what’s going on. She wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but I think we’re both dying to know more about what’s happening here as well as what the overall situation is in and around Chicago. Being cut off and in the dark regarding how the rest of the world is doing leaves us feeling so helpless. Before all this, with the internet, our phones, and 24-hour news coverage, we had so much information at our fingertips, it was ridiculous. Now we have absolutely nothing. And with the way things are going with our supplies, I’d give us another couple weeks with the food we have left (especially if we have to continue helping out our neighbors), and probably less than that with drinkable water. It looks like pretty soon we’re going to have to drain the rest of our water heater tank for extra drinking water. I can also boil rainwater…if it ever rains again.
Friday, September 13 th
8:07 a.m.
Eight o’clock in the morning. All quiet on the western front.
Breakfast was grits with butter (lots of butter since we’re trying to use it up) and salt. I made us a big pot on the camp stove. It’s a filling meal but is better suited to winter as it really warms a body up.
I took a few minutes to check on Ms. Murphy after we finished eating. She seems to be doing just fine. She was having bread and butter with a glass of room temperature tea. At least she doesn’t eat much. Ms. Murphy (whose first name I learned last night is Elaine, but I prefer “Ms. Murphy”) was breaking off little bits of bread and feeding them to her cat, Felix, a mottled tabby. I think Felix is about as old as Ms. Murphy – in cat years that is.
I told the old dear (Ms. Murphy, not Felix) that I’d come back later in the day and clean the cat box for her. I know she could do it herself, but it gives me an excuse to check on her. She just smiled and said, “You’re such a sweet lad.” I think she likes the company more than anything.
Today is bath day for our family. I guess the word “bath” is somewhat extreme.
We’ve come up with a system. It’s actually quite a little production. For once, I’m glad it’s warm out so that I don’t have to waste propane heating water. Cooler water actually feels nice in the late-summer heat.
I liken our bathing process to doing dishes before dishwashers became the norm…or after the flu took such amenities from us. So here’s how it goes.
We filled a gallon bucket with soapy water and a washcloth to clean with. Then we filled another gallon bucket with plain water and a washcloth for rinsing. We started with Kate washing Violet. After she was done, Dylan went, then Kate, and I finished. We got in the tub, one after the other, washing ourselves from the first bucket and rinsing from the second. I even allowed myself a small cup of water to shave with, something I hadn’t done in days. I would have left my scruff in an effort to conserve water, but it is extremely itchy and was driving me a little bit crazy, especially in this summer heat.
The overall results of our bathing efforts weren’t great, but all things considered, I guess they’re the best we could hope for. Most of all, I’m just thankfully to be rid of my days-old stubble. Ugh! It was terrible.
10:41 a.m.
Dylan and I spent the morning reorganizing and re-inventorying our food stocks while Kate and Violet played together in the living room. We took time to sort through the food, not just getting a tally of what we have left, but also inspecting it for freshness – putting several items into air-tight containers – and looking for signs of mold.
Most of the containers we filled before we lost city water service are now empty. We drained the last few into sealable bottles and then refilled them from whatever was left in the hot water heater tank. We did this to give any sediment remaining in the tank’s water time to settle.
It’s kind of strange, I wouldn’t think we’d be so busy with nothing to do relating to school, work, or activities for the kids, but the simple act of survival without modern amenities and conveniences is a lot more time consuming and much harder work than I ever expected. And such efforts seem to get tougher with each passing day. Things like personal hygiene, food preparation, and just keeping dishes and our living space clean and sanitary take up so much of our time now. It really makes you appreciate what we have…HAD I guess I should say. What’s the line? “You don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone.” That’s pretty applicable to our living situation right about now.
1:19 p.m.
So far, so good. Today has been fairly calm. It’s cooler outside with a nice breeze, and it has remained relatively quiet. I’d say it almost seems like a normal day other than the dead bodies surrounding the building and the occasional smatter of distant gunfire.
The Pandemic Diaries [Books 1-3] Page 8
