How are you holding up? Or is that a stupid question? I don’t know how I am. I’ve been flipping between scared out of my wits, depressed that my kids will never grow up, determined to survive, and apathetic about it all. The apathy doesn’t last long. One look at Noah or Tristan shakes that pretty quickly.
There still seems to be some hope that the powers that be will figure something out and save the planet. Is it a futile hope? I guess only time will tell.
My dad has this theory we could survive it. That maybe it won’t be as bad as they’re saying it will be. I don’t really know what to think. I’m an anthropology major, not a scientist.
He’s building a shelter in the backyard. The naive part of me hopes he’s right, the cynical part of me thinks it’s a futile endeavour, and the practical part of me wants to prepare just in case. So that’s what I’m going to do.
If I don’t have something concrete to work on, something to focus on, I’m not sure I could survive the next two months. Just sitting around, waiting to die is not something that appeals to me. I doubt it appeals to anyone. What are you going to do?
Dad reckons that we’ll need supplies to wait out the long winter and then more supplies to rebuild once the surface is habitable again. I’m honestly not sure if this is just his way of coping, or if there actually is a chance, but I guess I’m more like my father than I like to admit. Ever since he told me about it, I can’t let it go. I need to give my kids and my husband (and myself) the best possible chance of surviving.
If it doesn’t work and is all just a waste of time and we die anyway, then it won’t matter. I won’t be around to know any differently. But in case Dad’s right, and we do survive, then I don’t want to be starving to death a month or year later.
Oh, Lee. As usual you get stuck with my rambling and sorting my thoughts out. You should charge for counselling services ;)
Please write back, I want to know how you are and what you’re planning.
Miss you tonnes. Wish we could have this talk in person.
Hopefully this is all an over-reaction, and I’ll be seeing you on my next trip home and I can buy you that beer I owe you.
The phone rang again. It was Lisa. She sounded panicky. She said she’d just come home from Elodie’s house and found an intruder in her home. A man had been riffling through her kitchen cupboards. She’d scared him off, but it had rattled her.
“Can I come over? I don’t feel safe here anymore.”
“Yes, of course,” Claire said, and then went and made sure all her doors and windows were locked.
Lisa arrived twenty minutes later, with Max in tow. The little dog charged up the hallway. Claire heard a hiss and a yip, and then glimpsed a ginger streak race up the stairs. Poor Lancelot.
They sat down at the kitchen table and Claire made a pot of green tea. Lisa looked at Claire awkwardly over the table.
“I’m sorry, but I need to think of Molly. I know you want to wait for Tom, but I really think we should get out of here. It’s not safe anymore. We need to leave. Today. Now.”
Claire bit her lip and swirled her tea, as if that could give her answers.
“You should go then, we’ll catch up.”
“Claire, I think you and the boys should come with me. We can leave a message for Tom. He can follow on, he’ll know where to find us.” Lisa looked at Claire intently. Claire looked down into her cup.
“I don’t know…” she mumbled. “I wish Tom were here. I wish he hadn’t lost his damn phone and I could talk to him.” She realised she was biting her lip again and tried to stop. They were already raw enough.
“Come with me,” Lisa said again. “It’s not safe here anymore. If they can break into my house, there’s absolutely nothing stopping them from breaking in here. I got lucky — the guy only seemed interested in food, but what if he was more sinister? What if he was after something else? We need to leave.”
Claire rubbed her eyes. This never-ending headache just wouldn’t go away. She could go now, leave the city behind and flee to the perceived safety of the family farm. It’s what she’d do if she were in Australia.
Claire shook her head. “No, I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m waiting for Tom. I have to.”
“Claire…”
“I’m not going to change my mind,” Claire said firmly. “I’ll be careful though, I promise.”
Lisa took a deep breath and let out a sigh. “Yeah, I can see that. All right then.”
“We’ll follow as soon as Tom gets home. He should be back soon.”
“What…” Lisa paused and looked up at the roof with a big swallow. “What if he doesn’t come back?”
“I’ll give him a few more days. They should be halfway across Ontario by now. If he doesn’t turn up then… then we’ll leave. I’ll pack the boys up and come to you.”
Lisa stared intently at her. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
Claire snorted. “I probably won’t even leave the house. We have everything we need here, for now.”
Lisa nodded. She left quickly after that. Claire followed her into the living room and watched while Lisa gave both the boys a hug and a kiss.
Claire walked her to the door. They hugged.
“Be careful,” Lisa said, gripping Claire by the shoulders.
“Yeah, you too. We’ll see you soon.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tom
DESPITE the insanity and drama of the first forty-eight hours of their quest to get home, the last section was relatively drama free. The weather stayed clear, with no fresh snowfall and calm winds.
As promised, Eiko was waiting for them early the next morning. She didn’t have much with her, just a suitcase and a box full of food she’d raided from the kitchen.
The three of them took turns driving, with the previous driver resting in the back seat and they made good time. Tom half-listened to Mike and Eiko chatting when it was his turn for a nap.
“What made you choose Manitoba? There are plenty of good schools in Ontario, closer to your family,” Mike asked.
“Exactly,” Eiko said. “I wanted to get away from my family.”
“Oh. Can I ask why?” Mike sounded puzzled. He still lived with his mother after all, Tom reminded himself.
“I love them, but my parents are really strict, and I just wanted some space… they didn’t want me to go of course. They wanted me to stay at home and go to Toronto or Trent or York. It’s kind of funny though, I worked so hard to get away and now all I want to do is be with them.”
“Yeah. Funny how that works. As soon as shit starts to hit the fan — excuse my language — then you really start to figure out what’s important, and what’s not,” Mike said after a moment.
“What’s important to you?” Eiko asked, somewhat shyly.
Tom opened one eye and glanced at the back of Mike’s head. He shrugged slightly.
“Family. My mom, and my sister and her kids. I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend or anything. I just want to be with them, and keep them safe.”
“How many nieces and nephews do you have?”
“Two,” Mike said. “Hannah and Dylan. They’re great kids. Most of the time.”
“How old are they?”
“Umm. Let me think. Hannah just started school this year, I guess that would make her five or so. Dylan’s two years younger. He’s about the same age as Tom’s eldest kid. Three or so.”
“Do you spend a lot of time together?”
“Not as much as I should have.” Mike let out a big sigh.
“I’m sorry about all of the questions,” Eiko said quietly.
“No, no. It’s okay. I like talking with you. We’ve got a lot of driving ahead of us. Anything to pass the time is good,” Mike said.