Wilson Harp - EMP

“Good morning, David,” Mom said.

I turned and saw her working on a piece of cross-stitch she had found. She hadn’t done cross-stitch since I was quite young.

“Morning Mom,” I said.

“Take the umbrella,” Dad said as I started to open the garage door. Just inside the garage was an open umbrella drying.

I never thought I would have to wear shoes and carry an umbrella just to pee in the morning, but here I was. Dad had hung two large, blue, plastic tarps over the entry to the garage the evening before, and it seemed to be effective. Even with the strong winds and heavy rains, the garage had remained dry.

I hopped and skipped across the muddy, puddle-riddled lawn back to where the outhouse was. Dad had built the privy in two days from scrap lumber and items in his work shed. It was well constructed. No rain had worked its way through the seams and joints of the small building. He had even brought out the seat from the main toilet and had installed the toilet paper holder.

Thanks to Mom being a little obsessive over having enough toilet paper ‘in case company drops in’, we still had an ample supply six weeks after our lives had shifted to this existence.

I had set the umbrella in the corner of the small enclosure and realized I had done the job the storm had failed to do; there was a small puddle of water in the outhouse. I mumbled about my own stupidity, picked up the umbrella and opened the door. I was about to step out when an odd sound caught my ear.

With the light rain and low wind, the morning was abnormally quiet. But I clearly heard a chain being moved next door at the Johnson’s. I leaned out of the outhouse and looked at the neighbor’s backyard. Bennie Johnson had a small shed he had bought for storage, and he had a light chain and padlock keeping it shut.

A man was pulling at the chain and had fit his arm inside the gap he had created.

“Hey,” I said as I stepped out of the outhouse. “What do you think—“

The man darted away from the sound of my voice without looking toward me. He was ready to run at the first noise, and had shot out like a rabbit knowing there was a hawk in the air.

I stood stunned. I looked around, but he was gone and I had no idea who he was or where he could have run to. I went back into the garage, propped the umbrella up to dry and stepped into the kitchen.

“Shoes off,” Dad said as I stepped in.

I kicked off my shoes and sat at the table.

“I think we should shut our garage door,” I said. I spoke low so Mom wouldn’t hear.

“Why?” asked Dad. He cut his eyes to me, but didn’t move otherwise.

“I saw someone trying to break into the Johnson’s shed as I was leaving the outhouse.”

Dad nodded. “Someone tried to pry open the door to my shed. They also came through and took a couple of wrenches and screwdrivers from the garage the other day.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Everyone has enough to worry about. I figured it was some bored kid looking for a thrill. Not like he can sell the tools for money or anything.”

“I don’t like it, Dad. And this wasn’t a kid. It was an adult.”

Dad pushed himself back from the table and looked at me. “What did he look like?”

“Blue hoodie, jeans, medium build.”

“See his face?”

“No.”

“What shoes was he wearing?”

“Don’t know, didn’t pay attention.”

“Okay. He sounds like he rattled you a bit. I’ll see if we can file a report with Deputy McDaniels. Maybe he has some information and we can put a stop to this behavior.”

I nodded. This had rattled me, but I wasn’t sure why.

“I’ll see if I can find him next time I go back into town,” I said. “But it doesn’t look like it will be today.”

Dad shook his head. “No, I think this is one of those days where we should hunker down and eat a few cans out of the pantry.”

“Really? What should we have?” Mom asked. She was on her feet and moving to the cabinet where we had the last of our long term food.

“I didn’t think she was listening to us,” I said.

“I did. If I hadn’t told you to take your shoes off, I would have caught it later.”

“What about some chicken noodle soup and for dessert some fruit cocktail?” Mom said, holding both cans out for our inspection.

“Sounds great, dear,” Dad said. “I didn’t think it was quite a fruit cocktail day, but now I see it, I can’t think of a better thing to eat.”

“I’m going to go read and see if I can figure out that radio,” I said as I stood from the table. “When will we eat?”

“I think we can probably get the soup going soon and then we can save the fruit for later in the afternoon,” Mom said. She was digging through her neglected cookware looking for the right pan. “Do we have any clean water to boil?”

“Not sure, Mom,” I said. “Maybe you can just hold the pan out the front door and catch some rain.”

Mom swatted at me with a ladle. “Don’t be a smart aleck. Now, go get some water from the pump.”

“Okay, Mom,” I said as I bent and picked up my shoes. “But I expect to get a cherry in my portion of fruit cocktail for getting cold and wet for you.”

I grabbed the water bucket and umbrella in the garage and headed out into the light rain. Sarah Johnson was at the well pumping water for her grandparents.

“Hi David,” she said. “Rain is nice, huh?”

She was soaking wet and all smiles.

“No umbrella or jacket?”

“As hot as it’s been, this is a nice change,” she said. “There, pump’s all yours.”

“Thanks, Sarah.”

She waved goodbye and headed back to her house.

I set the bucket under the spout and started pumping. Sarah was a couple of years younger than Emma and she had adjusted quite well to her situation. I remember the day she broke. Ted explained everyone would break at some point. He said once the normalcy bias had worn off and people accepted the new normal, there would be some trigger, some word, some event that would cause people to just break inside. It was the final step to the release of the previous existence and what would allow people to plan a future where they couldn’t go back. Or even look back.

Sarah had broke when her grandmother’s cat didn’t come back home one night. She cried and bawled. Not for the cat, which she did care for, but for her parents and brothers. For her friends at school, her neighborhood, her house, her life. It was all gone and she realized there was nothing she could do to get them back. And there was nothing anyone else could do either.

Some people break and they can’t deal with it. Hank Kroner was the first suicide and Sharon Little was the most recent, but over two hundred had taken their own lives in Kenton. Two hundred people had been broken and had not been able to see a way forward.

Sarah had cried for four days, even after the cat had returned. She went through the process of letting her past go and she now made each day better for herself and her grandparents. She would make it. She would push through.

I wondered if Lexi and Emma had broken yet. When they broke, would they be able to face it like Sarah?

I picked up the full bucket of water and started back to the house. The rain had picked up and I was soaking wet. I would need to dry off and change clothes before I found a book to read. I had to read. I had to escape. Because the truth was, I had not had my break yet.

The clouds thinned that night and the sun shone brightly the next morning. I was up early, before the first rays of light touched the muddy fields across the street, and went into the kitchen.

Dad had beaten me to the table, as usual, and was reading the book I had left out the night before.