office building—now called The Apartments—and extended my arms out in front of myself. The glow on the horizon barely fits between my hands. Considering how far away it probably is, I am guessing the entire town of Forest Grove is burning. Just as I went inside, it started to rain. I don’t think that’ll be enough. At least it’s not windy.
Wednesday, February 6
Early afternoon
It is a beautiful sunny day. A handful of folks decided to set up a picnic. Pretty soon, the whole place was a hive of bustling activity as tables of snack foods (practically the dietary staple) were put up.
Before long there was badminton, Frisbee, and some other games going. Tom and a couple of the guys hauled out this wooden play structure and set it up. Then one of the kids asked me to play some music. It was a regular party. The only drawback besides the obvious was that Joey still wouldn’t come outside.
I think it did everybody some good to just unwind. Also, I think it is the first time that we were all in the same place at the same time. There was smiling and laughing. Proof that humanity is resilient…able to overcome anything thrown its way.
Early evening
One of the children, Claire, is sick. At first most of us thought it was all the junk food combined with the excitement. About an hour ago, Dennis VanDelay, a veterinarian a little older than I am, late forties, took a look. He thinks it is appendicitis. They moved into one of the meeting rooms down on the third floor. Crystal and another woman are in there helping.
Late at night
Dennis was right. But there just wasn’t the stuff he needed to take care of it properly. I guess he tried to operate, but she lost too much blood. He’s pretty shaken up. So are the rest of the children.
At least she didn’t sit back up after she died.
Thursday, February 7
A group of us had a meeting today. There was me, Tom, Dennis, and a lady named Monica Campinelli. Monica was better known in this area as Sister Mary Campinelli. I guess she was a nun from some local Catholic school and church in the town of Banks. It seems that everybody felt that she should be at this meeting because, if we do what is suggested, she will pretty much be the leader here at the complex.
Tom and I are going to make a run for a nearby hospital. Yesterday’s death of that little girl has everybody pretty shaken up. Dennis has made us a list of things to get. Monica told us where we should look.
I mistakenly thought veterinarians were folks who couldn’t hack it as doctors. Now I find that a lot of those who fail as vets go into human medicine.
Monica was not too happy with our decision. She doesn’t give us much of a chance at making it back. She’s a pretty stern bird and not much for sugar-coating her words. Monica was the other person helping Dennis try and pull off that emergency appendectomy. She did volunteer work at the hospital that we are running for. She said that “the place was teeming with them.” (She won’t use the word zombie.) I guess she worked in the ER as a nurse during the graveyard shift.
I asked her why everybody calls her ‘Monica’ instead of ‘sister’. She stared at me with those harsh gray eyes, and I could actually see them melt into a shade of blue, the lines around them relaxing just a bit. In that moment she seemed to simply be a kind little old lady in her fifties…maybe a favorite grandmother.
“I’m a little upset with God right now. I’m not sure if he’s paying me much attention. I just don’t feel right being called ‘sister’ at the moment. Until I can sort things out between Him and me, I’d rather not be called by a title that I’m not feeling obliged to act the part of.”
It seems funny leaving, but we found out yesterday that our little bastion is sorely lacking in some things. Tom and I will leave tomorrow if we can manage to draw those things away from an area of the fence.
The plan is simple: Everybody will
Wednesday, February 6
Early afternoon
It is a beautiful sunny day. A handful of folks decided to set up a picnic. Pretty soon, the whole place was a hive of bustling activity as tables of snack foods (practically the dietary staple) were put up.
Before long there was badminton, Frisbee, and some other games going. Tom and a couple of the guys hauled out this wooden play structure and set it up. Then one of the kids asked me to play some music. It was a regular party. The only drawback besides the obvious was that Joey still wouldn’t come outside.
I think it did everybody some good to just unwind. Also, I think it is the first time that we were all in the same place at the same time. There was smiling and laughing. Proof that humanity is resilient…able to overcome anything thrown its way.
Early evening
One of the children, Claire, is sick. At first most of us thought it was all the junk food combined with the excitement. About an hour ago, Dennis VanDelay, a veterinarian a little older than I am, late forties, took a look. He thinks it is appendicitis. They moved into one of the meeting rooms down on the third floor. Crystal and another woman are in there helping.
Late at night
Dennis was right. But there just wasn’t the stuff he needed to take care of it properly. I guess he tried to operate, but she lost too much blood. He’s pretty shaken up. So are the rest of the children.
At least she didn’t sit back up after she died.
Thursday, February 7
A group of us had a meeting today. There was me, Tom, Dennis, and a lady named Monica Campinelli. Monica was better known in this area as Sister Mary Campinelli. I guess she was a nun from some local Catholic school and church in the town of Banks. It seems that everybody felt that she should be at this meeting because, if we do what is suggested, she will pretty much be the leader here at the complex.
Tom and I are going to make a run for a nearby hospital. Yesterday’s death of that little girl has everybody pretty shaken up. Dennis has made us a list of things to get. Monica told us where we should look.
I mistakenly thought veterinarians were folks who couldn’t hack it as doctors. Now I find that a lot of those who fail as vets go into human medicine.
Monica was not too happy with our decision. She doesn’t give us much of a chance at making it back. She’s a pretty stern bird and not much for sugar-coating her words. Monica was the other person helping Dennis try and pull off that emergency appendectomy. She did volunteer work at the hospital that we are running for. She said that “the place was teeming with them.” (She won’t use the word zombie.) I guess she worked in the ER as a nurse during the graveyard shift.
I asked her why everybody calls her ‘Monica’ instead of ‘sister’. She stared at me with those harsh gray eyes, and I could actually see them melt into a shade of blue, the lines around them relaxing just a bit. In that moment she seemed to simply be a kind little old lady in her fifties…maybe a favorite grandmother.
“I’m a little upset with God right now. I’m not sure if he’s paying me much attention. I just don’t feel right being called ‘sister’ at the moment. Until I can sort things out between Him and me, I’d rather not be called by a title that I’m not feeling obliged to act the part of.”
It seems funny leaving, but we found out yesterday that our little bastion is sorely lacking in some things. Tom and I will leave tomorrow if we can manage to draw those things away from an area of the fence.
The plan is simple: Everybody will
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