The next morning wore the appearance of normality. The smell of bacon and coffee told me Mom had cooked breakfast while I slept. I headed to the bathroom to relieve myself and then brush my teeth.
“Morning, Davey,” Dad said as I approached the bathroom. “Toilet isn’t flushing right and the sink has almost no pressure.”
I turned the cold water on in the sink and the water dribbled out. I brushed my teeth and then used the bathroom. The flush was fine, but barely a trickle of water filled the tank again. After a few seconds I realized the main water tank in Kenton was probably empty from the town all participating in their daily morning rituals and the pump that forced the water up was probably off line. I decided even trying for a shower was a useless endeavor and headed to the kitchen for breakfast.
“Morning, dear,” Mom said as she saw me sit at the table. “How do you want your eggs?”
“Scrambled will be fine, Mom,” I said as I looked at the hearty breakfast she had laid out on the table. Bacon, biscuits and gravy, fried potatoes and a cut up cantaloupe made my normal breakfast of a bowl of oatmeal and coffee seem sparse. A cup of coffee and a large glass of orange juice stood ready at my place at the table.
“I think I’m going to walk into town and find out some information,” I told Dad.
He was looking through some old papers he had pulled out of a dirty manila folder.
“Sounds like a good idea, Davey. But I may need you before it gets dark tonight,” he said.
Mom came and took my plate to serve the eggs as I looked closer at the papers Dad held.
“Is that the land deeds for the house?” I asked.
“Yes, and for the Anderson’s old place as well,” he said. “Looking for where their pump was in relation to our house.”
“Pump? I don’t remember them ever having a pump.”
“They had it sealed up when they got city water. It was a few years before you were born. I helped Charlie cap the well. I still have the old pump itself in the shed.”
I remembered seeing an old pump in Dad’s shed when I was growing up, but I never thought to ask where it came from.
“If we need to access that well, we will have to dig into the soybean field,” I said.
“Why on earth would we need to access a well?” Mom asked as she sat my plate in front of me. “The water will be back on a little later. Just like the power.”
“I’m sure you are right, dear,” Dad said as he flashed her a big smile. “Just part of my silliness, I suppose.”
“Well don’t drag David into your silliness. He is too old and smart to start thinking that way.”
I smiled as I ate my breakfast. It felt like home with Mom and Dad bickering over little things. I realized anything they disagreed about over breakfast was not serious. They never picked at each other about things that couldn’t be changed or were in any way permanent. It was about things that would easily be forgotten within a few hours at the most.
It made me wonder about how I spoke to Lexi. Did I disrupt our time together with issues that stressed her out? Did I question her about things she had no control over?
“David?” Mom asked.
“What?”
“I asked you when you were planning on going into town.”
“Oh. Sorry, got lost in thought there. I’m heading in right after breakfast.”
“Could you swing by and check on Ruth Walters? She lives alone now and I don’t know if anyone will think to check on her with the power out.”
I looked at my plate and was shocked that all of my breakfast had been eaten.
“Yeah, Mom. No problem. Give me her address and I’ll check on her.”
Mom went to look for a paper and pen. When she left the room, my Dad leaned over.
“Did you bring her pills in, last night?”
“Yeah,” I whispered back. “I put them in the second drawer of my dresser.”
“Ok,” he said. “I’ll go look for them. I won’t find any magazines in there, will I?”
“No,” I said as I stood. “That was over twenty years ago. Let it go.”
He smiled and went back to looking at the papers in the folder.
I went over to refill my coffee cup, but the pot was empty.
“I’m sorry, David,” Mom said as she came back in the kitchen. “There is something wrong with the water, so I just used a bottled water to fill the coffee maker. Just enough for a small cup for each of us this morning.”
“I better get going,” I said as I put my cup down in the sink. “I’ll be back by dinner time.”
“Take a notepad and a pen,” Mom said as she handed me a slip of paper with her friend’s address on it. “You never know if you will need to leave a note with someone.”
It was sound advice, so I looked in the utility drawer and grabbed a pen. I picked up a small notepad on the kitchen counter next to the phone, scribbled on it to make sure the pen worked and placed them both in my shirt pocket. I went to my room and put on my shoes and picked up my wallet and keys from the dresser.
“Be safe, David. And stop by the pharmacy if you can. Maybe he has the prescriptions ready,” Dad said as I left the house.
I nodded as I said goodbye. I knew what Dad was thinking. Even though they had just had their prescriptions filled, it wouldn’t hurt to have an extra month on hand. I’m sure he already has a spare bottle somewhere in the house, but I knew he was as worried as I that this outage would be longer than a day or two.
It was only about three miles from the house to where the five and dime on Vinson Street used to be. Frank and I would make the trip each Saturday. Sometimes we would buy packs of baseball cards and open them to see who we got. Other times we would buy some candy and split a soda. I realized even though I was older the road into town now seemed longer and more menacing. Of course I was on foot now, and back then Frank and I lived on our bikes.
The number of houses were fewer. The McKay’s had bought all of the land on the west side of the highway for their soybeans. On the east side, some of the houses I remember riding past had been torn down as well. In a few cases, new houses sat where others had been, but some lots were barren. I remember there had been some bad flooding over the years, and some of those houses had been total losses.
“Hello.”
A faint voice caught my ear and I turned to look. A frail looking woman stood in the doorway of a dingy house. The early April growth of weeds seemed to be reinforcing the wild lawn left from the autumn before.
“Hello,” I said with a wave. I turned off the shoulder of the highway and walked onto her driveway.
“Are you heading into town?” She asked.
“I am, ma’am.”
“Can you ask them if they can check on my water and electricity? My grandson said he paid them last month, but I think they cut it off anyway last night.”
“I’ll ask, ma’am. But there is a power outage, I am afraid. My folk’s house lost power last night as well, and they must be having problems with the water tower as well.”
“Oh. Well thank you. You look familiar. Do I know you?”
“I’m not sure. I’m David Hartsman. My folks live over there. When I was a kid, this was Allen Stewart’s house.”
“David Hartsman! I’ll be. Allen is my grandson. I’m his grandma, Jana. I remember you now.”
“It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Stewart.”
“No, I’m his momma’s mother. I’m Mrs. Grant.”
“I’m going into town, now Mrs. Grant. I’ll stop by and let you know what is going on when I come back later this afternoon.”
“Thank you, David. I’ll let you get on your way.”
I continued on toward town as I tried to remember what I could of Allen. His dad had left the family before Allen went to grade school. He was a few years younger than me and Frank, and at the time we didn’t want a younger kid hanging around with us. From what I recalled, his mother had a reputation for sleeping around town and she was constantly in trouble with the law. She liked booze and pot. Even the kids in high school learned to stay away from her as she was always caught up in one mess after another.