*All chapters of The Disappearances that I post here on Substack are unedited works in progress.
*Updated 9-9-26
Chapter 6
On the sixth day after the disappearances, I woke and decided that I needed to do some stuff around the house before venturing out. I thought some normalcy would give me something else to focus on besides how alone I was. As I sipped my morning coffee, I tackled household chores and was amazed at how clean the house was after so many days of neglect. I didn’t linger on why my house was so clean, not even when I went into my father-in-law’s room to make his bed, straighten up, and put his clothes basket in the washroom. You wouldn’t think three adults could make large messes, but apparently, we had.
After dumping a second load of clothes into the washing machine, I started imagining what it would be like to wash clothes without electricity. A mental picture of myself beating my clothes on rocks popped into my head, and I prayed I wouldn’t have to go that far. The process didn’t look as if it would clean the clothes. Instead, it seemed like it would wear them up faster.
“I could use bicycle washing machines like I saw on one of those living off-the-grid shows,” I said to no one while folding clothes.
“Yeah, but for how long? You aren’t young. Or in shape enough to peddle for long periods.”
“True,” I countered, “but the sooner I start doing it, the sooner my body will adjust to the labor, and it’s just me, so I won’t have a lot of clothes to wash.”
“On the other hand,” I told myself as I hung an item on a hanger. “I could just not wash them and get new ones. There’s a world full of clothes I don’t have to buy.”
I grabbed another shirt from the pile, considered the notion, and dismissed it as a waste of resources before hanging it.
“For that matter, I could move to a different house when this one gets too dirty,” I said, “but that seems overkill. Besides, everything currently on the planet must last as long as possible since no one is making new ones anymore.”
If I continued to be the last person on the planet, that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. I could live off what remained until the day I died, and it wouldn’t put a dent in what was lying around unused.
Still, I dreaded the day when I couldn’t put the clothes in the washer, the dishes in the machine, or anything in the oven, or run the vacuum. I could get a sweeper for the floor, but I didn’t want to haul water for baths or to wash dishes.
House-hopping was an option, but I wasn’t ready for it. I didn’t think I could pack up and leave the last place I’d seen my family alive. Not for a long time anyway.
“What if I’m not the only one alive?” I asked myself later as I put away the clothes I’d folded.
“As much as what’s left, I’m sure there’ll be enough for us all.”
Because I was alone, the house wasn’t as dirty as it usually was, and I finished cleaning much earlier than I thought I would.
“Well, I guess I have time to check out a few places,” I said, sitting down at my kitchen table and looking over my notes about the disappearances. I crossed off the police station and added churches. I’d probably find a bunch of nothing there as well, but I had to look.
Next I picked up my list of stuff I needed from the home store and marked off what I’d picked up the day before.
“I could go get the rest, I guess,” I said, looking over the list, but I didn’t want to. I tossed the notepad onto the table and leaned back with a sigh.
I needed to do something. Technically, I didn’t have to do anything ever again. I had no one but myself to take care of and a world full of stuff I’d need to survive until I died.
“I can’t think like that. Not yet,” I told myself. “And there were things that needed me. I haven’t been back to the pet store since that second day. I could go there and see what was still alive.”
So that’s what I did. I’d promised to check in on the animals, and I was days late, but at least I was doing it then. Yes, the creatures left behind were the least of my worries, but they were still living beings.
The smell inside the store wasn’t pleasant, but it was nothing like the hospital. Still, I propped the door open with a doorstop. Next, I took a quick walk through the building to see how many creatures had died since I’d last been there. More than I would have liked, but I couldn’t help that. I wrapped as many of the larger animals as I could in shirts and tossed them into the dumpster behind the building. If I could carry the habitats of smaller creatures, I would carry them to the dumpster and empty them into the bin. I left empty cages or aquariums lined up against the back wall of the store.
After emptying the place of its dead, I stood looking around and wondering what to do with what was left. I hated letting the critters loose into the wild, but they had a better chance of survival there. Besides, I didn’t have the time to care for them. And well, I’d rather not have to tend to the spiders at all.
Dreading what I had to do next, but knowing it was for the best, I carried the remaining creatures’ habitats outside to the alley behind the building, which led into a sparse neighborhood, and opened their doors or lids to set them free. The alley was in the shade and held puddles of water during heavy rains. Therefore, they wouldn’t be out in the harsh elements if they stayed in or near their homes.
Dealing with the animals inside the pet store took me roughly two hours, and by the time I was done, all that was left were the fish. I scooped out the dead and flushed them, but there were still too many alive, and I had no idea what to do with them. I hated to leave them where they were, but I didn’t think most could survive in our local rivers or ponds, and there was no way I could safely transport them back to my home, even if I wanted to.
“Sorry, little dudes,” I said, peering into one of the fuller tanks. I’ll feed you today, but I can’t promise when I’ll be back. I know that isn’t fair, but I’m by myself in this mess, and my priority is caring for myself and finding my family.”
Before leaving the store, I left a note on the manager’s desk, telling them what I did and apologizing for not being able to do more. Hopefully, if the people returned, the store’s owner would be glad someone had attempted to care for the animals.
As I got into my car, I wondered if there were other pet stores nearby. I could have pulled out my phone and looked, but instead I lied to myself and said there weren’t any. There probably were, but I couldn’t worry about the animals there or the ones stuck in people’s homes. I’d help those I encountered searching for answers, but checking every home and business to free the spiders, snakes, frogs, and whatever else people were keeping as pets I could find wasn’t a priority…couldn’t be a priority.
“I should go to our 9-1-1 call center.” Or Public Safety Answering Point as it’s officially called. I checked the time on my dashboard and realized I had plenty of time to check out the place. I’d looked up the center’s location last night, since it wasn’t at the police department, but the mere thought of getting there and finding nothing was too depressing, so I decided to go back home. I was getting hungry, and I smelled bad.
So I went home. After a quick shower, I ate and spent a little time in front of the television, fruitlessly scanning channels for news from the outside world. I didn’t know why I kept putting myself through that kind of torture. No one was out there. Yet, it was a compulsion that I couldn’t let go of. The same applied to checking the internet. I was scared that as soon as I stopped looking in those places for other people, someone would figure out how to broadcast themselves or reply to one of my messages.
Giving up on the television an hour later, I rose to walk around my house and think about everything and nothing at the same time. As I pondered, I realized I’d done two things in the last few days that would give anyone looking for survivors the impression that someone might be around. The first was leaving the key card on the reception desk. That wasn’t a clear sign that someone was alive, because anyone who stumbled upon it might think the receptionist had left it there. The second was the note to the pet store’s owners. That was absolute proof that I was alive, but it didn’t give the reader any way to contact me.
“I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid,” I said, opening my computer and creating a Word document that read “I’M ALIVE. 256-555-8595.” As an afterthought, I added the day’s date. I used a font large enough that the information filled a sheet of paper. I didn’t want to put too much information on the sheet and have some crazy person show up at my door at two in the morning.
Next, I printed twenty copies. There was no way I was spending time going from business to business hanging signs, but I would hang one at every place I’ve been, and in the future I would hang one everywhere I go. I assumed most of the places I’d been to, or would go to, would be places other survivors would go to as well.
My phone said I had a few hours until dark. If I hurried, I could hit all the places I’d been the last week.
“I need to cut the grass soon,” I told myself as I looked around my neighborhood during my drive to the gas station close to my house. The grass wasn’t waist-high yet, but if it got much higher, I’d be inviting snakes and who knew what else into my yard.
At the gas station, I tore down all the signs hanging on the door and hung mine right in the center where anyone entering could see it. I did the same thing at the bank, the home store, and the police station. I didn’t hang one at James’ office because even though I had a key to get inside, I didn’t have the code to the alarm, and I wasn’t about to listen to it blare.
The last place I went to was the hospital. I pulled into the ER bay and could see through the windows that the bodies were still there. From where I was, I could tell whether any animals had reached them, and I dreaded what I would see inside.
“You aren’t here to check on the bodies,” I reminded myself. “Just hang the signs and go home.” I nodded, grabbed my roll of packing tape and stack of flyers, and got out of the car.
The first thing I noticed when I crossed the threshold was that the air smelled better. The second was that the bodies hadn’t been disturbed. The doors were still open, but as far as I could tell, no animal had wandered inside to nibble on the dead. That didn’t mean their flesh wouldn’t start falling off their bones soon, though.
“I should bury the bodies,” I said as I taped a flyer to the open bay door.
“But what if everyone returned as soon as I did? Someone would want to know what had happened to them.”
“Then tell them. The truth won’t get me into trouble.” I didn’t think it would anyway. The people had been gone a week already. What would they expect me to do with them? Let them rot where they were.
“What if someone claims I disturbed evidence by moving them?”
“Considering the situation, I doubt that would be the case, but if you are that worried about it, I’ll cover them with blankets. It won’t keep something from getting to them, but I don’t think that’s anything to worry about right now.”
Once I’d hung my flyers on every entrance to the hospital, I went back to the emergency room and covered all the bodies with blankets I’d found in the ER rooms. I thought about putting the bodies in the rooms, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch them any more than I had to.
Once that chore was done, I still had two hours before dark, and I didn’t feel like going home. I thought about going to my mother’s apartment, but I didn’t have the courage just yet. I feared that I’d stumble across her body, and that I couldn’t cope with at the moment.
Forcing myself to stop thinking about my mother, I decided to go back to the home store. The electricity wouldn’t last much longer, and I didn’t know how long the gas would last, so I needed to find something that would cut my grass without either. I also needed to leave the store owners a note and a list of what I’ve taken.
I should’ve searched through the homes in my neighborhood for what I needed, as I could have returned the items. Going straight to the store was more accessible, however. It also felt less invasive and personal. I’d known the people on my street. I didn’t know the owners of the home store. They could write off the items if needed, but people couldn’t always afford to replace them. I could justify taking from a corporation but not a friend.
However, I wasn’t about to return Darrell’s truck and pick one up off the lot. I trusted Darrell to be forgiving when he returned, not a car dealership.
I wandered up and down the aisles at the home store, throwing random things onto the store’s large lumber cart. I found a washboard and basin, a reel lawn mower, a propane stove, charcoal for our grill, and other things that didn’t need electricity.
At home, I unloaded the items I wouldn’t need immediately into a shed behind the house.
I was so focused on what I was doing that I nearly missed the squirrel running up the tree beside the shed. I caught his movements out of the corner of my eye and almost dropped what I was holding.
I waited under the tree for a long time to see if it would move again, but it didn’t.
“First, the birds reappeared, and now I see a squirrel. Everything isn’t lost after all,” I said, walking back to the truck and hoping the squirrel meant that the people would be back soon, but fearing, like the birds, it had merely been hiding.
While at the home store, I’d picked up bird feeders that I hoped would bring more than birds to the yard. Since I knew at least one squirrel was around, I was excited to put up the bird feeders.
Next, I put my cats’ food and water bowls out in the garage, hoping to lure strays my way or, at the very least, feed any hungry animals.
Deciding Janis’ dogs’ food shouldn’t go to waste, I walked across the street and did the same at her house.
I knew the food would also draw bugs, but that couldn’t be helped. With the people gone, all manner of creatures were going to start coming out of the woodwork, as they say.
That night, after supper and posting about the day’s events on my social media sites, I showered and crawled into bed with one of my son’s favorite childhood books. The fantasy world provided a great escape from my current reality. For the first time in a long time, I fell asleep with my face in a book, not my husband’s pillow.
