The Journal: Crimson Skies: (The Journal Book 3) (36 page)

Mark was dead. Death had parted us.

I slipped my father’s wedding band from his
cold hand and put it back in the glass box. Then I took off my
mother’s ring and put it away too.

~~~

It was only five o’clock, still, I had to
call my sons.

“Hey, Mom, how are you feeling?” Eric asked
quietly.

“I’m doing better. My fever broke last
night,” I replied, trying to keep my voice even.

“How is Dr. Mark?”

I sniffled and swallowed the lump in my
throat. “He’s… he’s gone. I need you and Jason to come over
please.” I heard the radio go quiet and moments later I saw them
both running across the yards.

I handed them both gloves and a mask, saying,
“I don’t know how long the contamination lasts. We can’t be too
careful.” I led them into the bedroom where Mark lay in his forever
sleep. I heard Jason take a sobbing breath.

“Not now, Jason, please. There will be time
for it later. You start crying now and
I
might never stop,
so please, be strong for me.”

I pulled the top sheet completely off and let
it fall to the floor. I handed Eric one of my old massage sheets
and together we spread it out on the floor beside the bed. Ever so
gently the two of them lifted the stiffening body and lowered it
onto the sheet. Once it was folded over they each lifted an end and
we walked the body into the living room, where Mark would wait on
the futon until we had a grave ready to receive him.

“I’m sure he will be fine there until
tomorrow,” I said in a monotone. “I want him buried here, not in
the mass pit, not in the cemetery, here in the front lawn. I don’t
know how hard the digging will be, but I think the three of us can
get that done.” I paused, thinking. “I suppose Dr. James should
come and pronounce him, though there isn’t any doubt.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Eric said, and
after giving his brother a silent message, he left.

~~~

“Do you want coffee or tea, Mom?” Jason asked
politely. He was busy rebuilding the fire in the stove.

“Neither. I’m going to have a glass of rum.”
I dropped two ice cubes in a short glass and filled it halfway with
my spiced rum. I tipped it up and felt it burn all the way down,
and then I poured another one, which sat on the table while the ice
melted.

~~~

James knelt down beside Mark’s corpse and
searched for a heartbeat with his stethoscope.

“I’m very sorry for your loss, Allexa. The
doctor will be missed by all,” he said. I could only nod. His
condolences said it all.

“Yesterday, or the day before, I don’t
remember, the woman with the pregnant daughter came here looking
for Mark. She said no one could find you. Where were you?” I
asked.

“Lenny came for me. One of the women at
Mathers Lake had fallen and went into labor,” James said. “I was
there all night. It was a rough delivery; the baby is fine though.
He’s a bit small, only five pounds, and healthy. Mother and son are
resting comfortably.”

“What about Judi’s daughter, Marci? I told
her to find Gray since Mark was so sick. She said Gray died two
days ago.” My days were getting confused.

James looked down at his hands and shook his
head.

“Without anyone who knew how to turn a breach
baby, Judi tried pulling the baby out. Both Marci and the baby
died,” he said. “The loss of her daughter was too much for her to
deal with. No one knows where Judi is now.”

“And Gray?”

“He’d been helping the Sisters at the camp.
The virus mutated and those who caught it were overwhelmed
quickly.” I could hear the sadness in his voice.

“How sad. We gain one new life and lose
three.” That empty feeling was creeping in again.

“Eric told me that Dr. Mark will be buried
here tomorrow once a grave can be dug. I’m going to give you a
single sleeping pill for tonight. You’re going to need your rest to
face the day.” He handed Jason the pill and left.

Jason set a bowl of hot soup in front of me.
I tried to tell him I wasn’t hungry.

“Eat! Damn it! Do you want to have a relapse?
We can’t lose you too!” he said, smacking his hand on the table,
causing the soup to slosh, and then he stormed out.

I forced myself to eat the soup, all of it.
Jason’s outburst made me feel guilty. I took the pill with a gulp
of rum. Tufts came out and pawed at my leg, wanting in my lap. I
hugged and cuddled him until I became drowsy.

December 3

Even with the sleeping pill Dr. James had
left for me, I slept fitfully. When I did manage to doze off, my
dreams were dark and foreboding.

Eric was there early to make sure the stove
was lit and coffee was brewing and that I was up and moving with no
relapse of the flu that took Mark from me.

“We started digging an hour ago, Mom. There’s
lots of rock so it’s slow progress, but we will be done by early
afternoon,” he said, sitting down across from me after handing me a
cup of coffee. He searched my face and my lip quivered. “We set the
burial for three o’clock. I hope it’s okay we made that decision.”
I nodded. I really didn’t care.

They finished digging at two o’clock and went
home to shower. Amanda came across a few minutes later.

“Hi, Mom,” she said quietly, and then burst
into tears. “I’m sorry; I told myself I wasn’t going to do that.”
She wiped her eyes with a hanky, her hands were trembling. “I’m
supposed to make sure you take a shower and get dressed. People
will be starting to show up in a half hour or so.”

“What people?” I asked.

“Half the town wanted to come and the colonel
said no. Father Constantine will be here with the Sisters, and Mr.
White, Dr. James and the colonel. I don’t know who else.” She led
me to the bathroom and turned the water on for my shower. “I’m
going to get you some clothes.”

The hot water felt good on my skin. I let it
cascade across my face, washing the tears away that kept
escaping.

I dressed in dark brown pants and a brown
turtle neck shirt. Amanda insisted on a black sweater she found in
my closet.

“It’s cool outside, plus it has pockets, Mom,
for your hanky and sunglasses,” she turned away, stifling a
sob.

There was no sun out, though I know they were
meant to hide my red and swollen eyes.

~~~

I went outside, escorted by my sons. I was
surprised to see so many in attendance. There was Father
Constantine and the Sisters, Tom, Jim, James, Art and Claire
Collins, Nathan and Chloe with Lenny and Pete, Marsha and her
husband, Ken and Karen, Joshua, Rayn, Amanda, Emilee and Jacob… and
Chivas.

At three-fifteen, we all stood around this
ugly gaping hole in the ground, and Eric, Jason, Ken, and Joshua
brought Mark’s body out.

I know the Father was talking, saying nice
things about Mark, but I only heard half of what he said, my brain
was in shutdown. Then there was a prayer and the four of them
lowered Mark’s body gently into the grave, and I tossed the first
shovel of dirt in, and promptly collapsed.

~~~

I woke staring at the ceiling, and the
concerned faces of my two sons and Dr. James. who was waving some
old fashioned smelling salts under my nose.

“Okay, okay, stop! That stuff stinks.” I
wrinkled my nose and sat up.

“Are you alright, Mom?” Jason asked as Eric
looked on.

“I think she’ll be fine now,” Dr. James
answered for me. “I’m going to take a wild guess that you haven’t
had anything to eat today, right?”

I sighed. “And not much yesterday.”

“Then we’re getting you across the street,”
Eric said, helping me up. “There’s a wake going on, and lots of
food. You
have
to eat, Mom.”

“A wake?”

“Yes, a celebration of life. Mark was a good
man and we all want to remember him that way. You knew him best and
you need to be there,” Jason pleaded. “Amanda felt it was better to
have the wake at our house instead of here, that it would be easier
on you.”

“I don’t know… I don’t think I’m up to it.” I
frowned, while memories washed over me.

“Your friends and family are there, waiting
for you, Allexa. Mark would want you to do this for him,” Dr. James
said.

~~~

On the front porch of the house that was once
my brother’s, I paused in the growing darkness to listen to the
chatter and laughter from within. I knew that once I entered, all
that would change.

“Allexa! Are you better now? I was really
worried when you fainted,” a concerned Sister Agnes said.

“Yes, Sister, I forgot to eat today, so it
must have been low blood sugar.”

“No need to make excuses to us, dear, you’ve
been through an incredible shock,” she replied, leading me to the
food table.

The array of food was impressive. There was a
platter of thinly sliced meat that could only be venison, and
another I knew to be smoked goose. A sob caught in my throat
knowing that was a favorite of Mark’s. I let my eyes wander over
the rest of the table and found potato salad, macaroni salad, a
dish of mostaccioli pasta in tomato sauce, deviled eggs, smoked
fish, bread, and cookies.

Tom White was at my side, shoving a plate in
my hands. “Eat, Allex, please,” he pleaded. The pain in his eyes
was all it took for me to start crying again.

I wiped my eyes with my sleeve, took a deep
breath, and put on a brave face. I took the plate from him and took
a spoonful of everything, except the goose.

“Are you going to try one of my Angel Wings?”
Sister Lynn asked. I searched the table for what I knew as
Chruscik, a Polish pastry.

“Did you make these?” I asked impressed,
taking one.

“Oh, yes, one of the few things I make well
is sweets,” she grinned. I took a bite and the powdered sugar
coating clung to my lips.

“It’s heavenly,” I said with a smile and she
laughed.

Tom led me over to the colonel, who stood as
I approached. He took my plate, handed it to Tom, and then hugged
me gently. He gazed down at me briefly, then lowered me on to the
couch and put the plate back in my hands.

I nibbled at the food, and drank from the
glass of rum the colonel gave me.

“I hope you don’t mind that we raided the
liquor truck. It feels like a good use of it,” he said.

“When Mark first opened it and saw what was
inside he called it the Christmas truck,” I said with a smile. The
smile felt good; maybe I would get through this after all.

I set my plate on the sink with the other
dirty dishes. When I turned, Art Collins was standing behind me,
leaning on his crutches.

“I’m so sorry, Allexa,” his voice
quivered.

“Thank you, Art, and thank you for coming
today.” What else could I say?

“Any time you need to get away, please feel
free to come and visit. In fact, with this strange warm weather
we’ve been having the fish are still biting. Why don’t you come out
and wet a line with us?”

“That’s very tempting. I haven’t been fishing
in a long time. Let me get back to you, okay?” I replied. Maybe I
do need to get away.

That’s when the tremors started and a moment
later the lights went out.

“Got it!” I heard Jason’s voice in the dark,
and a flashlight came on. “If everyone will stand still for a
minute, I’ll get some light in here.”

Another flashlight came on, this one in
Eric’s hands. Both made their way to the hutch where the oil lamps
stood like sentinels across the top. Fortunately Nancy had insisted
on a decorative but functional rail around the edge, so the lamps
were intact. One by one, Eric and Jason lit the lamps and pushed
the darkness back.

Another, stronger quake hit, lasting perhaps
a minute.

“Let’s hope that’s the last one,” Tom White
said.

“Why would the lights go out?” Sister
Margaret asked. Her soft voice drifted across the room since
everyone had gone quiet.

“The lines must have come down. They’ve been
vulnerable since this started, and the power may be gone for good
now,” I replied to her. “Rayn, you have the most experience with
earthquakes, how strong would you say those were?”

“That depends on how far away they were,” she
answered. “If it was twenty miles away, I’d say a 6.0 or 7.0 on the
Richter Scale. If it was fifty miles it would be stronger… a lot
stronger for us to have felt it that much.”

I took the flashlight with me and Eric walked
me back home. I immediately smelled kerosene when I opened the door
and found one of my oil lamps smashed on the floor.

“I need to clean this up right away. Not only
is there glass all over the floor, the smell turns my stomach,” I
said. “Will you light the two hanging lanterns while I get the
broom and some rags?” While Eric did that, I piled some rags on the
oil to keep it from spreading. This would have to be cleaned and
mopped before lighting the cook stove.

I hated losing one of my lamps, though there
wasn’t anything I could do about it. I scooped it all into the
dustpan. When I was going to dump it into the trash, I stopped and
removed the metal cap that held the wick. The glass might be
shattered, though the metal and the wick could still be used. No
matter how I felt, no matter how deep my sorrow, nothing could be
wasted anymore.

December 6

“Excuse me, Miss Allexa, may I come in?”
Joshua stood at the entrance to the greenhouse where I was tending
the plants. I found working with growing things that were green and
thriving helped ease my sorrow.

“Of course, Joshua, it’s good to see you.
What’s on your mind?” I stood, brushing the dirt from my hands.

“Without grid power, there are a lot of
things we can’t do like we used to, and I’ve been careful about
using the generator,” he said.