I had noticed it before, but it was even more evident now—I hadn’t heard any planes overhead but there were no contrails either. If things were back to normal, wouldn’t travel be one of the first conveniences restored? No…something deep in my belly told me that I and my group of three companions weren’t the only people on the planet in trouble. And I didn’t quite understand how it had been caused by the infected; I only knew that it was all interrelated somehow.
It would have been easy to lapse into the kind of depression I’d been drowning in for the past year, but I wasn’t going to do it anymore. I had to find a way back to my kids, and the only way was to do what we needed to do here. That started with daily survival, and that meant I had to get my ass out of bed, whether it was toasty warm or not.
Both men were already up and talking when I entered the room. Vera was still asleep but Larry had his hand on her arm and was speaking softly to her. We decided on simple food so we wouldn’t waste a lot of time. We’d have a big meal after getting the basics done. I went to fetch some apples and Kevin asked if I’d show him where the basement was as he’d never been there.
We got the flashlight and I showed him where the doorway off the kitchen was. The only thing down there was storage—not just her food pantry/ “root cellar” but the kind of storage that a lot of people would ordinarily use an attic for—Christmas decorations and other general stuff that she didn’t want to get rid of but didn’t use regularly.
Once we were downstairs, we walked over to the pantry area and I used the flashlight to point out where everything was: an area for hardy fresh foods (the “root cellar”)—potatoes, onions, and the like; the shelves that held all the canned goods I’d helped Lou with over the past two years; the purchased nonperishable foods section; and nonfoods like paper towels. I handed him the flashlight then so he could check things out better.
“Holy shit. Where the hell’s her bomb shelter?”
I laughed. “You gotta realize she was born at the tail end of the depression. The woman didn’t save for a rainy day—she just flat out saved. She prepared for the day when she might need all this.”
He nodded, and I could see the respect in his eyes, even in the dim light. He seemed to take a bit of mental inventory as he turned in the space, moving the flashlight up, down, and side to side. “You wrote all this stuff down?”
“Yeah. I just wanted to have an idea of what we could use without having to come down here every time I wondered.”
“Good thinking. I think we’ll be set till we leave.”
Part of me doubted if I should say a word, but I needed someone to share my thoughts with. I trusted Kevin more than Larry and Vera, even though that wasn’t saying much, and I had to voice my thoughts. “When do you think we’ll get out of here?”
I saw him suck in a slow breath. “Not soon enough.” He clenched his jaw then and pointed the flashlight at the apples. “I don’t think we’re taking the right approach, but I’ll give Larry a few days to try it his way.” Without even a pause, he asked, “We’re getting apples, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Anything else?”
I shook my head. “No. We’re going to have a bigger meal later, I think. I just want to get moving. We’ve got a lot to do.”
He nodded. “Water first?”
I looked at him and managed a smile. “You read my mind.”
We got four apples each (tucking them into our coat pockets) and headed back up the stairs. I was surprised at how quickly Kevin and I had fallen into such an easy relationship. We were smiling and laughing with each other, thinking along the same lines…acting like real coworkers, true partners.
Yeah, over the past week, I’d allowed myself to remember all those feelings I’d had for him…schoolgirl feelings—intense love (albeit an innocent kind) and yearning, most of all. Those emotions had my stomach in knots, had me gritting my teeth and curling my toes inside my boots. Now, though, as I walked up the stairs in front of him, I imagined his eyes on my back. He wouldn’t be able to see much of anything, because my body was covered by my coat, but he was also carrying the flashlight.
But now…now that I was beginning to relax, now that I wasn’t taking things so hard, now that we had to survive together…I was thinking of him in other ways. Today, getting past the hurt of the past and the sting of the present, knowing he didn’t remember me and then getting to know him again, know him as a man and not a boy…my soul recalled all the reasons I fell in love with him in the first place.
There was something about him I was drawn to.
Something I needed.
But I kept my thoughts to myself and kept my nose to the grindstone. After fetching water with Kevin while Larry and Vera gathered kindling and snow that morning, we came together again to plot out the rest of our day.
I was itching for a bath. Kevin, Larry, and I sat at the table. Vera had retreated to her chair in the living room, and I was glad that she had at least gotten up to do something and be productive. She’d also eaten half an apple. That was better than nothing. It appeared that Larry at least had a notion of how to help her through her mental state, but I wished there was more we could do.
For now, though, I was itching for a bath. I wanted to feel human again.
We discussed how to go about doing it. I remembered having what my mother had called “sponge baths” when we were camping. We’d heat some water on the campfire and then mix it with cold water in a large aluminum pan. Once the water was the right temperature, we’d immerse a washcloth and then wring it out, wash an area of our bodies (starting with the face, ears, and neck before moving down), and then dip the cloth in water and start over. It seemed efficient enough, and it was ideal, considering we camped in the high country in Colorado where the nights were cold and wet hair would have made for poor and possibly dangerous sleeping conditions.
I likened those old situations to what we were doing now.
We agreed that the method seemed like the best thing we could do. To actually heat up enough snow water to fill the bathtub seemed like a lot of work for not much payoff, and the bathroom downstairs was way too cold. None of us relished the idea of bathing in there. By the fire seemed ideal.
But then there came the question of males and females. I would never say it out loud, but I had no interest in bathing in front of the men. If it became a necessity, I would possibly find a way, but there were too many things holding me back. The biggest was my feelings for Kevin. You’d think that my newfound lusty thoughts would make me want to show him my whole self, but it actually made me want the opposite. If he was going to see me bare, it would be for other reasons entirely.
Fortunately, the men had gentlemanly ideas and were in the midst of discussing how we’d do it. Would everyone leave the room—either go outside or to the kitchen to the area behind the wall—while another bathed, and, if so, how would we divide up? Would Vera and I bathe together, followed by Kevin and Larry? As comfortable as we were growing with each other as companions—roommates, for lack of a better word—I could tell we found the idea of bathing together awkward. It was worse than going to college and sharing a community bathroom. We’d all grown set in our ways and wanted the comforts we felt we’d earned in life.
So we were at a standstill…until Kevin suggested another alternative. “What about that stove upstairs? The one in the sewing room?”
I’d forgotten about that stove, because it was more like a piece of furniture than anything else. “I don’t think it works.”
Larry said, “What’s to work? It’s a piece of metal that you burn wood in. As long as it’s not a pellet stove or anything…”
“But what if it’s not hooked up to vent outside?”
Larry looked at Kevin. “We can check it out. If it’s not, maybe we can still find an alternative, like seeing if there’s a way to vent it through the window or something.” I could tell by Kevin’s expression that he found that suggestion lacking, but he kept his mouth shut as
far as Larry’s idea went.
He did have more to say about the matter, though. “You mentioned your aunt has a fifth wheel. Maybe we should check it out, see if there’s anything in it we can use.”
I nodded and smiled. “That’s a good idea. For all intents and purposes, that’s what we’re doing—camping out. And the key should be hanging on the wall where all the other ones are.”
So the matter was settled—we’d spend the morning scouting out the fifth wheel and borrowing anything we found useful. Then we’d find out how to go about tackling the bath problem, because if we could bathe upstairs, we knew all other problems surrounding baths would be solved—we’d have privacy and no one would have to leave the house or room during. If the stove upstairs didn’t function, we’d figure out how to make the bathing situation by the fireplace in the living room work.
I needed at least one thing in my life that would help me feel human again. Cleanliness might not have been next to godliness, but it was a damn sight closer than how I felt right then.
Chapter Thirty-seven
“Fur Cue” – Seether
THE REMAINDER OF the morning was spent mining my aunt’s fifth wheel for valuable items. We took out sleeping bags and toilet paper but couldn’t find much else of use, not even canned goods. I’d remembered all kinds of camping goodies from my youth but then recalled that that was before the comforts of the fifth wheel that my relatives had used the last ten years they’d gone camping, because it provided the comforts of home. Hell, there was even a VCR in the thing…even though there were no VHS tapes in sight.
The old camping stuff—things like the washtub, the Coleman lantern—was mere relics, things that my relatives didn’t use in their last few years of camping. I didn’t blame them. Why use a percolating coffee pot that has to sit on a fire when you can use a coffeepot in your mini kitchen?
One of the men suggested that the old things might be buried in the barn somewhere. I didn’t disagree but that would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Well, maybe not a needle but definitely something toothpick-sized at best. I didn’t want to waste valuable daylight searching for items that my aunt might have parted with years earlier.
As a last resort, though, I finished looking in all the storage nooks and crannies in the fifth wheel. I didn’t want to leave any stone unturned. I managed to find crossword puzzle books, something to pass the time with while we sat around the fire at night—just in case we were going to be there another week, which was beginning to feel like a possibility (and also why I was clamoring to wash myself), but I also found that old aluminum washtub I’d remembered. That led me to believe the other items had to be on the fifth wheel too, so I wound up spending time relooking through every possible place, only to discover that we’d done a thorough job the first time.
We considered ourselves lucky, though. The sleeping bags would provide additional warmth and, I’d joked (but meant it), we could never have too much toilet paper. We also made mental note of other things like dish soap that we might need later on.
The morning by then was gone. The men planned to work on the stove upstairs—make sure it was working and was safe—while I scrounged for lunch. I settled on something easy—soup made from ramen noodles. I went downstairs to fetch carrots and onions. I knew too that my aunt and I had frozen a ridiculous amount of peas and got out a bag from the big freezer in the garage.
I was amazed, because it still smelled like gasoline out there. I wondered if that smell would ever dissipate.
I used a few cups of water from one of the gallon jugs and had just put the water on the fire when Kevin came downstairs. “We think it’ll work just fine. Larry wants to start a small fire just to be sure.”
I nodded and walked to the kitchen while Kevin started gathering paper and kindling.
I spent the next few minutes chopping carrots and, by the time I took everything else to the pot of water, it was steaming, so I dropped them in. I planned to add the noodles and peas after the carrots had cooked some. Before I could, the men returned downstairs, claiming success. I felt relief on some level, knowing that I could bathe in peace and quiet and privacy—and I hoped we could get started after eating lunch. After that, I planned on tackling laundry.
* * *
We started boiling snow water on the fire for baths. Before that, though, we searched the house and found clothes to change into. My uncle Felix had lost a little weight the last few years of his life, so there were various sizes in the closet, but Larry was tall. He wound up using a pair of overalls that seemed to fit better than any of the pants, jeans, or slacks. Kevin managed to find a pair of cargo pants and a flannel shirt that fit him like they were made for him. We then kicked around the idea of washing laundry, something that had been also bothering me, but we knew it would be a huge pain. We decided, for the meantime, to use the clothes hamper in my aunt’s room to store our dirty clothes and, if it came to it, we’d wash laundry later.
God help us if we weren’t out of there before that point. I thought I just might lose my mind.
Vera showed more emotion that afternoon than she had in days, insisting more than once that she absolutely did not want to bathe. “I don’t stink,” she shouted, and Larry finally calmed her down and told her it was okay, that we wouldn’t force her to bathe.
The rest of us, however, were looking forward to it.
The men told me I should go first. The logistics were going to be a little difficult, but one good thing was that we could pour the old water down the drain in the bathroom upstairs. It would be hauling the water upstairs that would be a pain. Larry had at one time insisted we not use the toilet up there, but he thought the water from bathing—which would still probably be warm—would be okay.
I first gathered my change of clothes (a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that belonged to Aunt Lou) and put three clean washcloths in the bathroom in plain sight for the others. I got us each a towel also but didn’t know that we’d need one. And I found a large bar of Dial, eager to relish its clean smell. Once I was prepared, I put some hot water in the aluminum pan and walked carefully up the stairs. I didn’t want to spill any on myself. I was planning to return for a bucket of cold water, but Kevin met me at the top as I was getting ready to head back down.
“Here,” he said as he handed it to me.
“Thanks.” He started to turn and then I said, “If you want to wait, I can give it back to you in a sec.”
“Okay.” He followed me back into the sewing room. I poured some water into the pan and then felt the temperature. It was still too hot, so I poured in a little more until it was tolerable. I wanted it pretty hot because, in the cold air of that room, it was going to cool off quickly. I started to hand the bucket back to him and he said, “There’s still a lot of water there. We can probably just leave it in here for the next person.”
I couldn’t help myself. I blurted it out before I could stop it, an old stupid phrase I used to say a lot. “I knew there was a reason why I liked you.”
But he grinned, so I didn’t feel self-conscious about it, and then turned. When he got to the door, he said, “Do you want me to close this?”
“Yeah, why don’t you?” It didn’t really matter. They wouldn’t be able to see inside the room from downstairs. Still, it seemed right, and maybe if the door was shut, the warmth from the stove would make a difference, because it didn’t seem like much at this point.
After the door closed softly behind him, it struck me that my Aunt Lou had been in this room last week…or, rather, her empty body had been. I forced myself to not look over at the chair that had held her until the men had finally carried her out. I clenched my jaw, willing myself to not cry.
To not think about it.
I sighed and walked over to the pan of hot water next to the stove and stood for a moment, assessing if the air was warm enough.
It would have to do.
I thought back to my childhood days of camping. I remembered feeling so shi
very after washing my skin, but it felt good to get the grime off. Today would feel no different. I planned to do it in stages, though. I peeled off the t-shirt I’d been wearing for well over a week. Hell, I hadn’t seen my skin in that long, either. I dipped the washcloth in the hot water and then pulled it out, letting it drip a little before wringing it. The water was so hot, it was barely tolerable. That was good, because then it would stay hot for the duration of the bath.
I swiped the cloth over the soap and then rubbed it over my belly. The warmth, especially since the stove was generating a little heat, felt good. I continued cleaning my exposed skin and then patted off with a towel before removing my bra.
Ah. Relief. I couldn’t believe I’d actually worn that damned thing for days without taking it off. It felt nice to run the washcloth under my breasts where the elastic had pressed against my flesh. I felt free then, even though I wanted to hurry because my nipples were tight and cold. I cleaned under my arms next, surprised that, even though I had some hairs growing, it wasn’t out of control.
I felt cleaner already. I slipped on the shirt I’d gotten out of my Aunt Lou’s drawer, trying not to think about it being hers. It too smelled fresh and clean. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed the smell of laundered fabric. Those were the kinds of things I’d taken for granted before.
I wondered if my skin would grow itchy. Oftentimes it would be in the winter because of the dry cold weather, and I’d usually slather on a layer of lotion after a shower. I decided if my skin felt dry and flaky later, I’d track down lotion, but right now, it felt good.
I continued bathing in the same methodical method I’d employed with my upper body. It felt particularly nice to clean my feminine parts because, even though I hadn’t been menstruating, it didn’t take long to not feel clean and fresh.
I also made the decision to not wear underwear. I didn’t want to wear undergarments that had belonged to someone else, no matter how much I loved that person, so no bra and no panties.
Savage Page 18
