I Hope You Find Me

by Trish Marie Dawson

  He didn’t say anything, just continued to gaze at me with curiosity. I realized then how close we were standing and began to edge my way past him, lightly brushing against his arm as I passed.

  Connor rocked back onto his heels before turning to follow me. “It’s not a bad idea you know. Smart actually.” He said when we were walking side by side again.

  Not sure if he was being sarcastic or not, I felt the need to once again be defensive. “Sure.” I quipped.

  I walked faster, hoping it gave me the lead and he would fall back behind me but he kept my pace. I could feel him glancing at me every few steps.

  “Did I upset you?” He asked after a few minutes of awkward silence.

  We had rounded a street corner and were heading back into the heart of downtown. I sighed, not certain if I was really upset with him or the seemingly impossible reality we now faced.

  “No,” I started, “I’m not upset with you. It’s this shitty world we now have to survive. I don’t know what the hell to do. Why are we here?”

  I felt my cheeks flush with anger and turned away from him, arms crossed, glaring at the empty street, fuming. A picture flashed through my mind of my daughter, when she was upset, standing the same way, her lips pulled tightly together in a pout so comical it took most my control not to laugh. My eyes instantly welled with tears and I couldn’t bring my hands up fast enough to hide them. The warm trickles spilled down my cheeks and I rubbed them away with disgust. I didn’t want to cry, I wanted to hit something.

  “Shit.” It was all my voice could manage before cracking.

  Connor had squatted down near Zoey and was scratching behind her ears when I finally turned around to face them. She walked up to me quickly, rubbed against my legs and sat directly on my left foot, her head tilted up with her tongue protruding from her mouth slightly with each pant, eyes gazing innocently into mine. I wondered if her eyes would forever look sad. I reached down and rubbed the top of her head and she licked my hand.

  “Okay then?” Connor asked. For a moment I had almost forgotten about him.

  I nodded and we were off again, walking back the way I had come just a few hours before with Zoey. I could no longer see the sun directly, it had moved over and beyond the buildings. Long, craggy shadows reached out at us from every stationary object. The dog seemed jittery, and remembering how she bolted earlier I kept a firm grasp on her leash. She seemed almost grateful for the bond, as if she thought I might up and disappear when she wasn’t looking.

  “The hotel I’m staying at isn’t that far from here. There’s plenty of room for you both,” he gestured at the dog, “I have water and food. I’ve been stocking up.” He said with a soft laugh, “Sorry, there’s no room service, but it’s clean and safe enough.”

  “You’re staying at a hotel?” I asked. Why didn’t I think of this – before I jumped into the bay?

  “Well, yeah. I’m not a local.” He shifted his pack on his shoulders, and continued, “I was supposed to be here on business. Actually tried to leave the City last week but the traffic was impossible. So we holed up in the hotel. The emergency generators kicked on when the power went out and well, it’s just me now.” He turned to look at me and for the first time, the smile on his face was completely forced.

  We walked the rest of the way in silence with only the scuff of our shoes on concrete and the occasional boom of something exploding far away at the airport echoing softly around us. The shadow of a tree loomed toward me, and for some reason I felt compelled to step around it. It looked too much like a person with an outstretched arm.

  When we came upon the bus depot, Connor made no move to follow me; instead he stood at the corner of the building, nervously glancing up and down the streets. I noticed he stayed in the sunshine. Maybe he was seeing things in the shadows too. I told him I would hurry and did just that, but instead of pulling out my notepad I wrote directly on the glass door.

  1/9 5:00pm

  On my way to the Grand High Hotel. Plan on leaving the City soon with Connor and Zoey – will leave another message before we go. I hope you find me. – Riley

  CHAPTER THREE

  The air was heavy and stagnant, and rushed by us on the breeze with urgency. On the more narrow streets, the wind whistled between the buildings, and rustled the trees with an unspoken vow that it would return to displace more leaves as the cloud cover thickened above us with the promise of an oncoming storm. The change in the air felt electric and made the walk to Connor’s hotel rushed, taking less than half an hour. Twice we stopped, thinking we heard people in the distance, but never saw anyone. We were all on edge with our senses maxed out and we were exhausted and thirsty but we hurried through the empty streets as darkness settled around the city, because none of us wanted to be outside in the dark.

  The hotel stood out before us like a mountain made of concrete and glass and in the fading light it seemed ominous and sinister. Following behind Connor, I stumbled through the large and dimly lit lobby and groaned with each flight of stairs we took up. A small emergency light was on at the top of each landing, and the dusty yellow hue gave off just enough light to guide the way up each flight of steps. When I felt for certain I couldn’t climb any further, Connor pried open one of the stairway doors and we stepped into the dark walkway of the twentieth floor. A moment later and his flashlight lit the way to the end of the hall. I felt my stomach clench with nerves at the thought that I had followed a man up to his hotel room, with only a 30lb dog for protection.

  What an idiot, I thought to myself, as I watched him smoothly stride away from us. Panic began to rustle inside me, and for an instant, I almost bolted back down the stairs. But then Connor spoke, and turned to smile at us and even in the dim lighting, the piercing calm of his clear eyes showed nothing but kindness. So I walked to meet him.

  “I think the bulb burnt out in the hallway. The others still seem to have the emergency power on.” He said casually as he stopped in front of a large door. “The locks are battery operated, see?” He slid an electronic key out of his back pocket and inserted it quickly into the lock. A dim green light blinked once and the door clicked ajar.

  He held it open and gestured for me to go in, but I stopped just inside the room. It wasn’t just one room, there were at least three that you could see from the door, the place was massive. The style was the same as the lobby, expensive and modern with clean lines and a handful of solid neutral colors. Two large windows took up the corner of the main sitting room with glass reaching from the floor to the ceiling, flanked by massive plum-colored velour curtains. A door stood open that led to what looked like a large bedroom, and the complete kitchen was overflowing with canned goods. Lined up neatly inside the entry way were large water coolers, all full.

  “Wow.” It was all I could manage to say.

  Connor raised an eyebrow and gestured for me to follow him. I heard the click of the door as it closed behind us. “Well, it’s nothing special, but there’s still electricity, so we can use the kitchen. And I hauled up every water cooler I could find on the main floor. The canned stuff came from downstairs too.” He paused and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other before adding, “I don’t like to spend too much time down there. I never feel alone.”

  He cleared his throat, and asked, “So, who gets that shower first…you or the dog?”

  ***

  Two long hours later and I was blowing my hair dry with the small handheld dryer attached to the hotel bathroom wall. It had taken both of us to wrestle Zoey into the master bathtub, and I ended up climbing in with her to keep her from jumping out. I was wet and soapy from the waist down by the time we were through. Connor toweled her off after showing me to the second bedroom, with its own equally impressive bathroom. One very long, lukewarm shower, and a dangerous amount of floral-scented soap suds later, I was able to dry my hair after brushing the tangles out. I actually felt somewhat normal again.

  Before I came out of the bedroom the smell of cooking food en
veloped me and for the first time that day, my stomach lurched with something other than nerves…hunger. I stood in the sitting area and almost laughed at the sight of Connor bustling about the kitchen, wrapped in a large bath sheet, with Zoey perched atop the closest sofa like a cat, watching his every move.

  “I feel amazing. Thanks for the shower and for dinner too?” I aimed my voice in the direction of the kitchen but walked toward the windows to take in the view, except there wasn’t much to see, since most of San Diego was dark. A few of the nearby buildings still had their red emergency beacons flashing on the roofs, but from where I could see no one else seemed to have lights on inside.

  Connor smiled over his shoulder and said, “I showered too. Kinda had to since I was covered in dog hair.” Zoey mock-sneezed then stretched out along the top of the sofa back. In so many ways she resembled a cat more than a dog.

  “I noticed my clothes are gone.” I said as I walked over to Zoey.

  “Oh yeah, I put our clothes into the wash. There’s a washer and dryer in the bedroom closet. Hope that’s okay?” He asked.

  “Of course!” I wasn’t going to complain. I didn’t have many changes of clothes, and after the airport, our clothes definitely needed to be cleaned.

  He turned to look at me and seemed startled by what he saw. “You look different.” He said after a moment and made no effort to hide his gaze as he looked me up and down, twice.

  “Different? If you mean dry and not covered in ash, well then yes, I guess I do look different.” I laughed a bit nervously as I tucked a wavy strand of blonde hair behind my ear.

  “Your hair is blonde.” He said, sounding a bit surprised.

  “And you’re cooking in a half-lit kitchen for a stranger and her dog, wearing only a towel.” I rebuffed.

  He laughed, but before he turned away I thought I saw the color in his cheeks darken a bit. Good, I thought to myself, let him be the embarrassed one for a bit.

  “There’s wine on the counter, help yourself.” He gestured at the open wine bottle.

  “Wine? Well, now I’ll never leave.” I paused, “Just kidding of course.”

  “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want. But I don’t know how long the generators will last.” And the reality of the situation came rushing back to both of us.

  I sat down with a less than gracious thud onto a kitchen stool and poured myself a generous amount of wine into one of the large glasses. It was a white wine, and tasted deliciously cold and sweet. I didn’t bother to use the stem of the glass, and instead, cupped my hands around it to drink.

  “What are you making?” I asked him in between long sips.

  “Veggies mostly, and some rice.” He turned with two plates of heaping food in his hands and placed them down on the counter. He slid onto the stool next to me, close enough that our legs touched and I shifted nervously at the heat that threatened to burn my cheeks crimson.

  “Oh, almost forgot.” He got up and returned to the kitchen, and gestured at a bowl near the stove. “Can she have this?” He asked me.

  “Sure.” I watched as Zoey flew off the sofa and trotted into the kitchen and began licking at the food. Before Connor sat back down the bowl was half empty. The heat of his partially naked leg radiated through my jeans again, but I didn’t want to move away. His warmth felt comforting.

  The first bite was delicious. “It’s very good. Thank you.” I said to him, after my second swallow. I pushed my bangs out of my eyes as I leaned in for another spoonful. I was unusually comfortable around Connor already, but the meal still felt awkward in a way.

  We ate in silence for a while, sipping our wine in between bites. Half way through the meal Zoey stretched out along the top of the sofa again, lying on her stomach with all four legs dangling over the edge of the cushions and within seconds she was snoring. I offered to clean the dishes but Connor joined me near the sink and towel dried as I washed. Twenty minutes later and the kitchen was clean and the small talk was over.

  Connor disappeared into his room for a bit and returned to announce the clothes were in the dryer. “Should be ready in an hour or so.” He was wearing a loose fitting white cotton shirt and sweats.

  “Thanks.” I smiled in his direction and topped my glass off with wine before crossing the room to sit down on the couch opposite from Zoey. I didn’t want to disturb her, since she seemed to be getting the best nap she’d had in weeks.

  Connor did the same with his glass and surprised me by sitting down next to me. He sat at an angle, with one of his legs on the coffee table, and the other bent at the knee, resting on the cushion not far from my feet. I wasn’t sure if I should move away from him, or stay still. Don’t you dare move! A small voice inside me screamed.

  “So,” he began after clearing his throat, “You want to leave the City and go where exactly?” He was staring at me, sipping his wine. His hair was dry now, his waves tousled and a bit wild looking. The darkness of his hair contrasted with his fair skin and clear blue eyes. He blinked and I jerked my gaze away.

  “Yes. Well, that’s the million dollar question isn’t it?” I thought to myself for a moment and then added, “I called my friends and family, and some of them live out of State. I think this, whatever it is, spread out all across North America.” I risked looking in his direction.

  He was nodding, and said quietly, “It’s not just North America. It’s overseas too.” He shifted a bit, settling further into the cushions and took a long drink from his glass before continuing.

  “The last time I spoke to my family was almost two weeks ago. My parents, who are in Dublin, were on their way to the Hospital. Everyone I spoke to in London was sick.” He paused there, as if considering what he said. “There were others I couldn’t get a hold of. I don’t know what happened to them.” His words came out heavy and soon he seemed lost in his thoughts.

  We sat there, unconsciously listening to the dog snoring. After a bit I broke the silence, “So are you from Ireland, or London? I can’t quite place your accent.” I took a sip of wine.

  “Me, I’m from Dublin,” he said.

  “I thought so, but your accent’s very faint.” I waited for him to explain further, and when he didn’t I continued on. “I’m Irish too. Not directly, but a lot of my ancestors were Irish.” I smiled at him. I didn’t know what else to say.

  “Is that so?” He asked, and smiled back at me, looking first at my blue eyes, and then to my blonde hair – as if sizing me up.

  “Have you ever been?”

  “To Ireland?” I snickered softly, “No, I haven’t been out of the Country. I planned to go there, but I think deep down I knew if I did, I would never come back here.”

  Connor laughed long and hard, and tossed back the rest of his wine. “Maybe one day.” The words hung in the air as he stood up, and with his hands on his hips he stretched his back. We said good night to each other and retreated to our separate bedrooms, with the exception of Zoey, who was still asleep on the sofa.

  ***

  I left my door cracked open for the dog. I knew eventually she would wake and go looking for me. So in the early hours of morning when I felt the gentle pressure of the bedspread move next to me and a body snuggle up against mine I wasn’t alarmed…not until an arm slid over my side and a hand rested on my stomach. Startled, I yelped and pushed myself up in bed and banged into the wooden headboard loud enough to make Zoey bark at the echo from the other room. She came running into the bedroom growling, and Connor came rushing in behind her a moment later, looking a bit dazed.

  “What…?” Connor mumbled, rubbing at his face with one hand, the other holding onto the wine bottle we had emptied earlier in the night.

  “Someone’s in here.” I whispered. I kept my eyes on the bed as I fumbled with the bedside lamp until I found the switch. Light flooded the room but it still felt dark.

  Zoey stood at attention near the door, and only when the light came on did she stop growling. She jumped onto the bed and turned in circles sniffi
ng the blankets and pillows. Eventually she sat down near me and rested her head on my legs. She whimpered at me and I absentmindedly began rubbing the top of her head. My hand found her ears and scratched behind them. I was trembling all over.

  “No one’s in here but us.” Connor said, still sounding sleepy. He put the bottle down on a small dresser near the door.

  “I swear someone was in this bed next to me.” I looked around nervously. The only place someone could have gone was into the bathroom or under the bed. I drew my legs up to my knees, suddenly feeling like I was eight years old again. Zoey shifted and laid her head on her paws and watched as Connor flipped the bathroom light on.

  “All clear in here.” He said, as he leaned into the bathroom door frame, his arms crossed at his chest. He made no attempt to cover a yawn.

  He was obviously not going to check under the bed. So I bent forward and rolled onto my stomach and leaned over the side, slowly pulling up the sheet and blanket to peer under the mattress. As my eyes adjusted all I could see was the carpet, shrouded in night, but then the other side of the bedspread flipped up and there were Connor’s eyes, looking back at me. A strangled scream escaped my mouth before I registered it was his face and not some intruder’s and I lost my balance and slid off the bed, crumpling into a heap on the floor. I lay there on my back a moment, breathing heavily while Connor sat on the edge of the bed, laughing at my expense.

  “Oh, shut up.” I said, half serious, as I stood and straightened my tank top. “You scared the crap out of me, what were you thinking?”

  “Did you really think someone was under the bed?” Connor replied, holding one of his hands up to his mouth to cover his smile.

  “Something was in here. I felt someone lay down right next to me!” I stood with my arms crossed and an indignant look on my face. I was half tempted to stick my lower lip out at him in a petulant pout.