Before Things Get Bad
At precisely noon, my brown kitchen light dimmed to black. The clock blinked off. The internet disconnected. The refrigerator stopped humming. The hot water heater stopped heating. The freezer stopped freezing. And I couldn’t get a dial tone on my phone.
Discombobulated, I knew I should be freaking out, but a strange calm flowed over me.
The crunching of a car heading down our gravel lane broke the silence.
I stepped out on the porch and waved.
Our neighbor, Josh slowed down. He rolled down the window and came to a stop. A perplexed grin spread over his face. “Something funny’s going on, Rosie.”
I shrugged his concern away. “Just a power outage. We’ve had ‘em before.”
He blinked and shook his head. “I was at the café in town, sitting around with the guys talking, and Mark said his daughter was having a brownout, just like we were.”
Six of my aged hens crossed the driveway, heading for the pine woods behind the woodpile. I watched the collie out of the corner of my eye. She liked to bark at them, thinking she could scare an extra egg loose. “Well, it’s no—”
“Mark’s daughter lives in Australia.”
I snorted in disbelief. “Coincidences do happen.”
So, Ray called his brother in Anchorage, and would you believe it? But they’re having power issues too.”
Another car came up behind, Josh’s wife, Linda. Under normal circumstances, I’d have waved Linda inside for a cup of tea, but the look on her face told me that she knew I wasn’t going to be heating up a pot of anything soon. Her eyes, wide and scared, sent prickles down my arms. “Hey, Linda. Don’t look so worried! You’ll scare your husband—”
Linda ran from the car to her husband’s cruise and practically tore the driver’s side door open. “The power is out in every town and city as far as anyone knows!”
“But you can’t know.” I shoved fear away, as far as I could with every ounce of logic that my brain could muster. “So, there are some power outages across the world. That hardly means that everyone is out. Could be a weird sun thing. A grid failure that knocked out a bunch of places at once. Perhaps there’s an internet virus.” I shrugged. “Give it a few hours. There’s no way we won’t get this fixed.”
Linda turned on me and for the first time in our friendship, I realized that I didn’t really know her.
“You’re being stupid, Rosie. Completely stupid!” She stalked back to her car, yelling over her shoulder. “Get home, honey. We better prepare for the worst.” She slammed her car door and opened the window as she passed, following Josh. “Just be glad your family is with you, Rosie. My mom is three states away, and Jared is working in Indiana. I just hope to God that they can make their way here before things get bad.”
Without the least regard for one of my cats ambling across the road, Linda raced after her husband. I knew I wouldn’t be inviting her in for anything any time soon.
But as I made my way toward the house, her words rang in my ears. “Before things get bad…”
Failed to Send
There was nothing to do but finish making bread. It seemed like the most reasonable course. Besides, whole wheat bread straight from the oven soothes even the most troubled soul. I ambled back to the kitchen, put the loaves in the oven, and turned it on low to help them rise.
The oven didn’t respond.
I nodded. So okay. Not a brilliant move, but I wasn’t about to be thrown off by my first setback. I placed the loaves on the counter. They would rise eventually. On impulse, I texted my sister. Sarah always maintained an upbeat disposition under the most trying situations, and besides, I wanted to know what happened to poor Bill. He wasn’t really poor. The guy made more money than Liam. I dashed off a quick note.
Failed to send.
Then my heart started to race. I dashed off a text to Liam.
Failed to send.
I tried calling Dana.
I tried Juan.
I stared at my phone like it had betrayed me…really let me down.
Now I knew what being lost at sea must feel like. The ground had fallen away, and there were no walls to grab onto. No ceiling. Nothing but a world of non-functioning tools and toys.
I looked at the stovetop to see the time, but, of course, that didn’t tell me anything. The house was quiet. Even the road was silent. I walked outside and strolled into the backyard.
The sun perched high and the birds were singing their pretty little heads off. I wanted to talk with someone, but town was a couple of farm fields away. A long walk.
My stomach clenched into a tight knot.
The big maple outside my bedroom window sported seed pods that helicoptered to the ground. It usually seemed amusing to watch them whirl about and land in masses, covering the ground. But they didn’t seem particularly funny now.
I told them the hard truth. “Most of you won’t make it to the next season—you realize that don’t you?”
Well, that was morbid.
I shivered in the sun. A big wooden swing set that Liam had arranged under the grape arbor beckoned, so I made my way over and perched on the edge. The garden beds had recently been turned over and potatoes, onions, even lettuce seeds had been planted. The tomato and pepper plants still sat in flats on the front porch. Liam would get to them next week.
My fingers inched toward my phone, so I pulled it out, leaned back on the swing, savored the earthy garden scent, and imagined the story I would tell my beloved—once I got ahold of him.
I tapped his number. Nothing. I texted. Failed to send. I squinted in the strong light, trying to make out how much battery power I had left. About half.
I rubbed the back of my neck.
A couple of vultures circled overhead. Thanks, guys. Really. Can’t you go intimidate someone else?
Before I knew it…
A. K. Frailey is the author of 17 books, a teacher for 35 years, and a homeschooling mother of 8.
Make the most of life’s journey.
For books by A. K. Frailey check out her Amazon Author Page
“This story is one of recovery…what it means to be and to be good at being. It is about figuring out what really matters to us, and how we can live truly in a community…caused me to really slow down, take stock and think. It is a masterfully written tale. And one I can highly recommend.” ~McEvoy
“As usual, Ann Frailey doesn’t disappoint. Her heartfelt, down-to-earth stories are filled with real-life experiences and emotions that you can almost feel like you are experiencing them as well as you read.
She’s one of the best authors I’ve ever read.” ~Ron Hull