“Mr. R. has a ham radio set in his basement,” Tom said as they made the short drive to town. Harriet had suggested taking her car, which held eight people and had four-wheel drive. “He’s been communicating with the outside world. He said the governor has arranged for emergency supplies to be brought in by helicopter this afternoon. I guess they’re bringing cases of bottled water and canned food. And he said they’re working on a patch to reconnect the power at the slide.”
“That would be so nice. We haven’t had it as bad as some people, but still, I miss my power.”
“Is that Carla’s vehicle?” Tom asked as he parked at the curb in front of Pins and Needles and handed Harriet her keys. He indicated an older Bronco. It was the car Aiden usually drove. A carseat was visible in the back.
“Yes, but I don’t see Carla.” She went to the store window and peered inside. It looked pretty much as they’d left it.
“Hey, Harriet.” Carla came down the sidewalk carrying a white paper bag in one hand and Wendy on her hip. “I was just picking up some day-old doughnuts from Annie’s They had them in the freezer but they’re starting to thaw so…anyway, it doesn’t matter, let’s go inside and see how the shop survived.”
A thorough inspection revealed a layer of mud in the basement but not much else. The water had come in through the street-level basement windows, bypassing the main floor. A few more inches, and things would have been very different.
“We’re going to go see if the people at the homeless camp want to help with cleanup,” Harriet told Carla.
“Wendy and I are going to drive back to Aiden’s and get a couple shovels and some buckets and stuff from the garden shed, then I’m going to drop her off at Robin’s.”
Harriet and Tom went to Fogg Park and explained their plan to Joyce. She agreed to come, but only if Brandy would come, too.
“This could be interesting,” Harriet said to Tom while Joyce was attempting to roust Brandy, but to everyone’s surprise, Brandy walked under her own power into the common area. She was holding a bottle of water in one hand and had a tattered-looking hobo-style purse slung over the opposite shoulder.
“This is as ready as I’m getting,” she said, her slur less obvious but still there.
“Let’s go, then,” Tom said. “We need to go by the church and check on Ronald. We can see if he’s recovered enough to be of any use, and we can also see if Kate and Owen are available to help.”
“Kate might, since it doesn’t involve being at the camp.”
Joyce and Brandy got into the second row of seats as Harriet again handed the keys to Tom.
“The trail repair you all did yesterday really helped,” Joyce said when they had their seatbelts buckled and were underway.
“I’m glad,” Harriet said. “I’m sure that mud is a real problem.”
“We’re used to it,” Joyce said. “It’s like this every winter.”
“I’ll have to find out what the park has to say about it,” Tom said, “but if they don’t object, I’ll come back when it dries out a little and see what can be done about putting a proper drain under that first section.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Joyce said.
“Duane could pay to have a paved highway put in,” Brandy said.
“Duane is dead, dear,” Joyce reminded her in a soothing tone and patted her hand.
“His money isn’t dead,” Brandy slurred and pulled her hand away. “It’s sure buried, though. I just need to find out where.”
“What are you talking about?” Harriet asked.
“I need a drink,” Brandy slurred, “that’s what I’m talking about.”
The women stayed in the car while Tom went into the church to check on Ronald. He was apparently feeling better-his color was improved and Harriet thought she detected a spring in his step as he followed Tom back to the car.
“You’re looking well,” she said when he was settled.
“I hate to seem like a wimp, but living indoors does seem to agree with me,” he said with a smile.
Carla was waiting in the store when they arrived. As promised, she’d brought shovels, buckets, rubber gloves, two mops and a new package of sponges.
“As I see it, there are two main tasks,” Harriet said. “First, scooping up mud and carrying it out, and then washing all the surfaces the first group removes mud from.”
She and Tom said they’d haul buckets, Ronald and Joyce took the shovels and Carla said she would wash floors. When Brandy didn’t volunteer for anything, Carla got in her face.
“Come on, Brandy,” she said, “look at me. You’re helping my daughter and me. Take a mop.”
To Harriet’s surprise, Brandy followed Carla’s orders without comment.
“I brought some bottled water,” Carla said nearly two hours later. “Anyone need a break?”
She didn’t have to ask twice. They hiked upstairs to the kitchen, and she brought out her bag of doughnuts. Harriet and Tom pulled chairs down from the tables in the classroom and, after a moment, were joined by Ronald. The older man took off his foul weather jacket and set it on the back of his chair. He wiped his brow.
“Whew, it’s hot working down there.”
“Are you feeling okay?” Harriet asked, searching his face for signs of illness.
“I’m fine,” he said, “just a little out of shape.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you making yourself sick helping us.”
“No, no, don’t worry, I know my limits and…” He patted his shirt pocket. “I have my medicine at hand if I need it. I never go anywhere without it.”
Tom had brought a plastic container of Mrs. R’s cookies with him. He opened it and set it on the table.
“I heard we may have power back today,” Ronald said as he sat down. “Have you two heard anything about when the slide might be cleared?”
“No,” Harriet answered. “All I heard about was the power. Why? Are you planning on leaving?”
He took a bite of cookie, chewing slowly.
“I’m afraid I am,” he said finally. “I’d hoped to live close enough to my daughter to be able to visit and maintain some sort of relationship, but I’m afraid my constitution isn’t up to outdoor living conditions. The young people who were here when I arrived encouraged me to join them in southern California. They said there’s a camp there that’s an easy walk to a soup kitchen, and the weather is mild year-round.”
“I’m sorry you don’t have better options here,” Harriet said.
“I had hopes it would have worked out differently. I put an application in to be a greeter at Wal-Mart, but it seems even they don’t want me.”
“Did you know Duane very well?” Harriet asked him.
“Not really. It was natural, us both being men of a certain age, that we would spend time together talking, but he wasn’t very forthcoming about his past. I could understand that. I didn’t want to relive my failures. Why would he?”
When Joyce didn’t come upstairs, Harriet excused herself and went down to see if everything was okay. She was halfway to the basement when she heard voices.
“Tell me the truth,” Joyce said. “Did you see Duane with money?”
“He had lots of money,” Brandy said, slurring the S.
“Why was he living with us in the camp if he had money?” Joyce persisted in a gentle tone. “That makes no sense. Remember what I told you about telling the truth?”
“He gave me money, but now he’s gone and I need more brandy. If I could just find the bag…”
Harriet went a few steps farther down, until she could see Brandy sitting on the floor, her knees drawn up to her chest and her head resting on them.
“Don’t you go to sleep on me, Brandy,” Joyce commanded. She pinched her until the younger woman looked up, pulling her arm free in the process.
“Leave me alone.”
“I will when you tell me about Duane’s money.”
“Duane gave me money,” Brandy said. “Now he’s dead. Leave me alone.”