One Second After

She nodded and then looked away.

He heard barking and then laughter. From out of the field above the house his family was coming. The dogs, seeing him up and about again, made a beeline straight to him. He could not help but laugh, both dogs grinning at him and dancing around his chair. And then with noses raised they were sniffing at the soup pot, Ginger standing up on her hind legs to peer in, nearly burning her feet as she lost balance and almost fell against the stove.

Jennifer came running down and jumped into his arms.

“You’re better, Daddy!”

“Well, not exactly, but almost, pumpkin.”

She buried her head against his shoulder and he wondered for a moment if she was crying. And then she pulled back slightly. “Daddy, you really stink.”

He laughed, tempted to play the old “armpit” game of grabbing her and forcing her up against his armpit. She loved it when she was eight, even as she shrieked in protest. But not now; he knew he really did stink.

“I promise I’ll take a bath later today; I could use it.”

“Outdoors now, Daddy,” she said, pointing to a small kiddie wading pool and a rough-built shower made out of a six-foot ladder with a one-gallon plastic bucket suspended from the top rung by a two-by-four, the bottom of the bucket perforated with a couple of dozen small holes.

“Ben built it. One person showers; the other pours the water into the bucket while standing on the ladder.”

Ben made that and John nodded and then suddenly wondered…

Makala laughed. “I do the pouring for Elizabeth, John.”

“Well, Ben can pour for me and you ladies can go somewhere else.”

Jennifer hugged him tight, let go, and looked into the pot.

“What is it?”

“Hot dogs and potatoes,” Makala announced.

“Yuk, sounds gross.”

“Really, it’s quite good,” John said.

“Can Zach and Ginger have some?”

The two dogs were by his side, tongues hanging out, panting, both with eyes fixed on his empty bowl. Across the years it had become an unconscious act: leave a little extra on the plate, set it down. When Ginger joined the family John would make sure two plates would go down at the same time, because no matter how much the dogs cared for each other, if there was only one plate there’d be a lunge and a yelp, usually from Ginger losing out to Zach, but now, as Zach was starting to show his age, he was becoming the loser in those squabbles.

“We ran out of dog food yesterday,” Makala said quietly.

Damn, he had never even thought of that. “Even the canned stuff?”

Makala didn’t say anything and he realized with a shock that the reason she said nothing was because she or Jen had stashed the canned dog food for emergency use if need be. He suddenly wondered if they made a canned dog food of hot dogs but knew it was best not to ask.

“Come on, Dad; they’re starving.”

He looked down at his two buddies. His companions on many a late night of writing or research, they’d always be curled up in his office. Once it was time for sleep, Ginger would usually paddle off to Jennifer’s room, Zach always to his.

He looked at Jennifer, then back to the dogs.

“Sure, come on, you two fools.”

He picked up his bowl and Makala’s, doled out one ladleful each of the soup, and put the bowls down. The two lunged, devouring the meal within seconds.

Jennifer smiled, watching them. Makala said nothing. “I think I want to go into town to see what’s going on, maybe over to the campus.”

“Don’t press your luck, John,” Jen said, a bit breathless from hiking down from the field, coming up to his side and standing on tiptoes to kiss him.

“Damn, you really do stink,” she said disapprovingly, stepping back.

“I’ll drive,” Makala interjected. “Besides, now that our patient is better, I think I should go back up to the nursing home and oversee the transfer up to the conference center.”

Jen said nothing as Makala went into the house. Elizabeth pecked him on the check and sat down to eat.

“She’s a nice girl,” Jen said.

“I think she’s in love with you, Dad,” Elizabeth announced, saying it as if just commenting on the weather or the time of day. Jennifer giggled at that. John looked over at Jen.

“She sat up with you three nights straight. You were in a bad way there, John.”

Jen smiled, but he could see she was just about in tears. “What is it, Mom?”

“Oh, nothing,” and she turned away. And he knew she was thinking of Mary.

* * *

The drive into town things looked pretty much the same, except for the fact that several of the men he passed were toting shotguns or rifles. At the elementary school there was a huge stack of firewood, a number of kettles set over a fire boiling.

“How are things in there?”

“John, people who just can’t make it are dying off,” Makala sighed. “Hundreds dead, but things are under control for right now.”

At the station he found out that Charlie was up in Swannanoa, Tom up at the barrier in the gap. He read the town notice board, printed with red marker on the whiteboards tacked to the side of town hall:

Martial Law Still in Effect