I nodded and said, “I know. It’s almost as if we aren’t allowed to mourn too long.”
Rod interjected, “But no one said not to. It’s the circumstances. We know we can’t.”
“I don’t know about you guys,” Tanner said. “But I kind of feel cheated out of the whole mourning process.”
Wisdom found its way into our conversation, via a fifteen-year-old boy. “That’s because you were cheated out of the ritual,” Davy said. “Death isn’t special anymore.”
We all looked at him with question.
He continued, “Before the bombs. Before all this, let’s say Denny died. Man, we’d be all around Rod. Denny’s death would have been special. We would have felt bad, see, because our lives were normal and Rod’s wasn’t anymore. His grief would stand out. Get it? But now, Rod’s not the only one who lost a friend. Tanner’s not the only one who lost a child. My mom’s not the only one who lost a husband. No one is normal. We may have lost the ritual; we didn’t lose the grief. We’re still grieving, we’re just doing it differently, that’s all.”
Behold the truth… out of the mouths of babes.
The subject of death was placed in a different perspective right then and there. I couldn’t speak for Rod, or Tanner, but to me, Davy’s words added a sense of ‘placement’ to a topic that was so displaced.
I was proud of my son. I’d forever remember the bright words he spoke at the end of a very dark day. I grasped on to what he said, and then I grasped on to my son and embraced him.
23. Where Were You?
Seventeen days AB — Dear Mona: Tammy is finally starting to walk around. She joined us for breakfast but didn’t say much. Craig braved the radiation. Levels are still high. The data suggests four or five days of this. This is day four. Hopefully tomorrow it will be over. I pray you are waiting this out as well. Jo
I didn’t close my notebook; Burke’s banging caught my attention. He was doing something he hadn’t done yet in the shelter—cook. Taking over Dan’s ‘self proclaimed chef’ position, Burke merely stated that we needed something to lift our spirits; we had been cooped up long enough. Since we couldn’t veer from the current circumstances and go outside, we could steer off course and break the rations rule.
He said we had plenty, and even more at the cabin.
I agreed on all accounts and let Burke take control. From the supplies he took four cans of sliced beef with gravy, then nearly doubled our normal rations of rice and beans.
We had other dry goods stored, but rarely used them. Burke pulled them out and started mixing up, an old-fashioned ‘Great Depression’ pancake.
Burke’s impression of Harriet Homemaker even caught Simon’s attention. When Simon questioned what Burke was mixing, Burke told him a birthday cake… for Molly. As if it were the best news he heard in his three years of life, Simon, excited, took off to get Rod so they could get Molly ready for her party.
Though he hadn’t done so since we had been in the shelter, seeing Burke conjure up a meal wasn’t all that odd of a sight to me. Multitudes of backyard barbeques came crashing into my mind. Summer after summer, Sam and Burke would become master food manipulators. Firing up the grill. Sharing glaze recipes. Cooking tips on how long to make the perfect steak. Getting drunk. Laughing until the sun came up. They were great times, but ones I would never see again. They had become distant. Gracing my memory like an old favorite movie, or story, somehow they weren’t real anymore. Realism became the paneled basement in the home of my former next-door neighbor.
God, had I reached the point where shelter life had become normalcy? I prayed it would never be normal to me. With all my heart I wanted to get out of the basement, out of the city and go. Run. Never look back.
Soon.
Very soon.
I thought I caught Tanner saying my name. I wasn’t sure, so I didn’t respond. I was still locked in the flashback of the one day Burke and Sam built the mega barbeque pit and caught my backyard on fire. I probably would have basked in that memory for a while too, had it not been for my daughter’s voice. My ears perked.
“God!” she snapped. “It’s sick. Really sick.”
I looked up, how long had I been in my own world?
Tanner had sat across from me at the table. “Jo? You OK?”
“Yeah,” I nodded, then turned to see Matty storm into the room.
“Did you hear me?” she asked. “Sick. Just sick. I can’t believe Simon, dresses, plays and sleeps with a sex toy.”
I nearly choked. “Matty.” I struggled her name out in my shocked laughter. “What?”
“Molly.” Matty climbed on the couch.
“She’s not a sex toy.” I explained.
Matty’s little face scoffed at me. “Yeah, right.”
My mouth hung open and I glanced to Tanner.
“I thought she didn’t speak?” Tanner queried.
“She doesn’t.” I shrugged. “Except to bitch.”
“And draw satanic pictures of Dan.” Tanner said.
“True.” I snickered and then looked up when Rod entered the room.
He wasn’t speaking to us. In fact, he emerged through the door and yelled back toward the hall. “Bring her in. Show everyone. She looks lovely.” Rod smiled at us. “Wait until you see. Right Matty?”
“Sick.” Matty shook her head.
The pitter-patter of Simon’s feet running down the short hall, announced his impending entrance into the living room. “Happy Birthday to Molly!” he called out joyfully, then came to an abrupt halt just as he crossed the threshold. Simon turned his little body around, and tugged on Molly’s arm. “Come on.” He beckoned the blowup doll that lay on the floor, her sideways body unable to fit through the door. Simon wrestled with her, perhaps thinking if he tugged hard enough she would fold and slip through.
Laughing, I stood up. “Here.” I made my way to him. “I’ll get her.”
“Jo,” Tanner called me. “You dropped your…”
Tanner didn’t finish the sentence.
Lifting Molly, I turned around. “I dropped my what?” Then I saw, he held my notebook, I must have knocked it off the table when I stood. Tanner’s eyes were glued to my page. “That’s an invasion of privacy.” I told him, carrying Molly to the couch. I had to say something; after all I wasn’t in the mood for another person to make a comment about how crazy I was for writing to Mona. After perching Molly correctly, I fixed her dress. “There, Simon. Now she’s ready.”
“She’s hungry.”
“She can wait.” As I turned, Tanner approached me.
“I’m sorry.” He handed the notebook to me. “I wasn’t being nosey. I noticed the date.”
“The date?” I asked. Through the corner of my eye, I saw Simon leap on the couch. “Don’t jump.” I told Simon.
“Yeah, the date,” Tanner said. “I just thought it was odd that you were behind in your journal.”
“I’m not behind in my journal. I write in it everyday.” I looked at the page, double-checking, thinking he was looking elsewhere. But he wasn’t. “No, it’s right.”
“Jo, it’s just that the bombs fell about twenty-some days ago. You have seventeen Days AB.”
“That’s right… Simon, quit jumping on the couch.”
“That’s right?” Tanner asked confused. “Today is seventeen Days AB?”
“Yes.” I chuckled. “Of course… Simon stop.”
Simon stopped, smiled, and then began to jump on the couch again.
“You look baffled.” I told Tanner.