Ray Gorham - 77 Days in September

Sitting by herself on a bench in front of the empty grocery store, with no one to talk to and not knowing how tomorrow would be, Jennifer felt as alone as she ever had in her life. Tears started slowly but were soon cascading unchecked down her cheeks. She pulled her feet up onto the bench, wrapped her arms around her knees, and buried her face in her legs. Oh how she wished Kyle was there, to hold her, to put his arm around her and reassure her that things would get better, to protect her, to make everything alright. Her friends described her as a strong, capable woman, and she felt she was, but after sharing fifteen years of her life with Kyle, it was like half of her was missing, and she desperately wanted to be whole. She missed everything about him, the touch of his hands, the smell of his cologne, the sound of his voice, the feel of his lips, the way he smiled at her when he came home at night, and even just the simple comfort of knowing he was there. Jennifer closed her eyes and tried to picture him. What would he do? How would he handle the situation?

Jennifer heard a sound and looked up to see a young girl, maybe eighteen, pushing a stroller towards her. The girl had shoulder length hair that was either blonde with dark streaks or dark with blonde streaks, bad acne, and was wearing a white t-shirt and well-worn blue jeans. A baby wrapped in a thin blanket lay in the stroller, sleeping peacefully as the stroller rattled along. Jennifer wiped at her tears and runny nose and tried to compose herself, embarrassed by emotions she couldn’t quite manage to control.

The girl barely acknowledged Jennifer as she passed by, her eyes locked on the doors of the grocery store.

“There’s nothing inside,” Jennifer said, trying to sound calm.

The girl stopped. Jennifer could tell the girl was busy processing the information. “Are you totally sure?” she asked, turning towards Jennifer, sunlight reflecting off a metal stud in her nose.

Jennifer nodded. “I am. I just finished searching the store. I even brought a flashlight to search the back room, and it was empty too.”

“Isn’t there even anything, like salad dressing, or ketchup, or something?” the young girl asked, desperation obvious in her voice.

“I’m sorry. It’s empty,” Jennifer answered, holding up her empty backpack as proof. “Even the shampoo and dog food are gone. There’s nothing but empty shelves.”

The girl let out a long, heavy sigh and slowly turned the stroller around. She walked back the way she’d come, and Jennifer could see that she was crying as well. “Hey, you gonna be okay?” Jennifer called out.

The girl shook her head. “I don’t know,” she managed to say, the tears audible in her voice. “We’re real hungry, especially my little boy.”

“I have a couple of granola bars,” Jennifer said as she unzipped a side pocket on the pack. “Would you like those? I don’t need them.”

The girl turned back, eyeing Jennifer suspiciously. “You mean that?” she asked, wiping her face with a dirty hand.

Jennifer nodded. “I have some more at home,” she lied. “I’ll be alright.”

The girl stepped towards Jennifer and stretched out her hand, her eyes hungry and anxious. Jennifer handed her the granola bars and smiled. “I know it’s not much, but I hope it helps.”

The girl tore one of the packages open and bit into it. “I haven’t eaten for two days,” she said between bites. “I’m starting to think we really are going to starve to death.”

“Don’t you have someone who can help you?”

The girl shook her head. “It’s just me and Austin. We just moved here, plus my parents and I don’t get along.”

“What about Austin’s dad?”

“He’s not around. I haven’t seen him since before Austin was born.” The girl finished off the first bar and looked at the remaining one in her hand. “Do you think he can eat one of these?” she asked, pointing to her baby.

“Does he have teeth?”

She nodded. “A few. He’s teething, which doesn’t make things easy.”

“It’s not what a doctor would recommend, but I think if you break it into tiny pieces, he’ll do okay with it. Just make sure they’re real tiny.”

“I will. Thanks. Thanks a bunch, Mrs?”

“I’m Jennifer. You can just call me Jenn. What’s your name?”

“I’m Cassidy. It’s nice to meet you, Jenn.”

“Well, Cassidy, I hope I’ve helped. Do you think there are any other stores around we could go try?”

“No,” Cassidy said. “My neighbor went to the big Wal-Mart, and she said it was wiped out. I walked two miles to get here. Thought with it being on the edge of town it might have some things left. I guess we were both wrong, huh?”

“I suppose so. I rode fifteen miles in on my bike to get here. I was afraid it would be empty, but I came anyway. You know, it’s funny in a way. I was here last Friday afternoon, probably an hour before the event, and everything was fine. No indication whatsoever that anything bad was about to happen. If it had happened an hour earlier, my car would be out in that parking lot with the rest of them.”

“Guess you had luck on your side, didn’t you.”

“I suppose. More luck than the people who owned these cars at least. I wonder how many of them were unlucky by just a few minutes.”

Cassidy shook her head. “I’m sure a few.”

Jennifer looked at the cars. “You know, Cassidy, I bet there were a few that already had their groceries when the bomb went off. I bet there are a couple of cars out there with food in them. Do you want to look with me?”

A flash of hope lit Cassidy’s face, and she nodded.

They found some shade beside a van for Austin and started to work their way across the parking lot, searching each vehicle as they went. Most vehicles were locked, but they could see through the windows of the trucks, vans and SUV’s, which were all empty. Two sedans were unlocked, but their trunks had nothing.

“Our luck hasn’t been so good,” Jennifer observed, leaning against a white Taurus. “There are only four cars that we haven’t been able to open or see inside. Should we try and get in, or give up?”

Cassidy’s expression had gradually fallen as the search yielded nothing, and she now looked thoroughly hopeless. “I think people came and got their stuff. It won’t get us anywhere,” she said, turning towards the parked stroller.

Jennifer could see the blanket moving and heard Austin crying. Retrieving her bike, she pushed it over to Cassidy. “What are you going to do?”

Cassidy shrugged her shoulders and broke off a tiny piece of the granola bar to put in Austin’s mouth. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice lacking any life. “I just don’t know.”

“You should try some of the local churches,” Jennifer suggested. “They might be able to help you. Just don’t give up, okay, Cassidy? You’ve got your little boy to live for. He needs you to stay strong.”

Cassidy nodded but didn’t speak.

Jennifer gave Cassidy a pat on the shoulder and smiled at Austin, who was busy trying to chew on the piece of granola bar, his arms and legs kicking excitedly. “I’ve got to go, but please don’t give up.”

“I’ll try,” Cassidy responded weakly.

Jennifer pedaled away and was about to turn onto the street when a wine colored car near the back exit of the parking lot caught her eye. She stopped and looked at it, noting that the car was facing towards the exit. She pedaled over and peered through the windows. The seats were empty, but the rear passenger door had a big dent in it that kept it from closing tightly. Jennifer tugged on the door and managed to pull it open after a couple of good yanks. She opened the driver’s door and lifted the latch for the trunk.