Life as We Knew It (7 page)

"She doesn't understand," Megan said. "She's a good woman, really she is, but she lacks faith. I pray for her soul, just the way I pray for yours."

"Megan," I said, like I was trying to grab the friend I'd loved for years and bring her back to reality. "There are no more hot lunches. Half the time there's no electricity. I live five miles from school and gas costs nine dollars a gallon and we can't use the pool anymore."

"Those are just earthly concerns," Megan said. "Miranda, admit your sins and embrace Our Lord. You won't care about hot lunches and the cost of gas in heaven."

She could be right. The problem is I don't see Mom or Dad or Lisa or Matt (especially Matt—I think he's a Buddhist these days) or Jonny admitting their sins and embracing anybody even if it means a ticket to heaven. And I don't much want to be in heaven if they're not there with me (okay, I could manage without Lisa).

I considered trying to explain that to Megan, but it would have been like trying to explain to Mom that I wasn't going to wear long Johns no matter what the moon did to us. So I left Megan and went to where the swim team was and groaned and moaned along with them.

Dan said he heard from his mother who knows just about all the coaches in the area that all the schools in Pennsylvania have closed their pools and so have the ones near us in New York. It's because without electricity the filters can't run, and without the filters the water isn't sanitary. So no more meets for the time being.

Karen mentioned the pool at the Y, but a couple of the kids said the Y was closed. The town has a pool, but it's outdoors and it isn't heated, and even if they have it working, it won't do us much good until the end of June.

So I mentioned Miller's Pond. There were actually kids who didn't know about it. I guess they live in the new developments and don't know about things at my end of town. It's still too cold to be swimming at the pond, but once it warms up enough, it's all natural and doesn't need a filter. And it's pretty big.

So we agreed we'd start swimming at Miller's Pond weekend after next. I guess that gives me something to look forward to. And I think Dan was impressed that I came up with a solution.

Now if I could only solve the hot lunch situation. It's amazing how much I miss the cafeteria macaroni and cheese.

I hear Matt and Mom! Matt's home!

May 28

Things seem so much better now that Matt is home. He's been throwing batting practice to Jonny (I've been catching) and that makes Jonny happy. He and Mom went through everything in the house, all the food we bought, and all kinds of stuff Mom's grandparents had hidden away in the attic and cellar, yarn and a crochet hook (Mom says she hasn't crocheted in years, but she thinks it'll all come back to her if she works at it) and mason jars and canning equipment and a manual can opener and an egg beater and the sorts of things kitchens had in the olden days.

He and Mom spent all day yesterday organizing the food so we know how much tuna we have and how many canned peaches. I think we have enough stuff to last forever, but Mom says she'll be relieved when the supermarkets open again. Just to hear her say she thinks they will cheers me up.

Matt and I haven't had a chance for a real talk yet. He doesn't really know any more than I do about what happened and what's going to happen, but I still feel like if I hear it from him, I'll believe it more.

School was better by Thursday. A lot more kids showed up (including Sammi) and more of the teachers, too.

The high school is 5 miles from here, which Mom says is walkable on a nice day. Jonny's lost his bus service to the middle school, and that's a little farther away, so Mom's been trying to work out a car pool. Matt got out all our bikes and he's spending the weekend getting them in shape. I used to bike a lot, and I guess it's as good a way as any to get around (I'll certainly get to school faster by bike than by foot).

Peter showed up this evening, which was a nice surprise, especially for Mom. He brought us a bag of apples that one of his patients had given him. He and Mom couldn't go out anywhere so the two of them baked an apple crisp for all of us. We had pasta with marinara sauce for like the tenth time this week, so the hot dessert was a treat. Matt got Mrs. Nesbitt, so it was really an event, six for dinner, with a main course and a dessert.

Of course by the time we were ready to eat the electricity had gone out again. It was out most of the day, but we're used to that by now. We had electricity for an hour during school yesterday and it was like none of us knew what to do about it. At home, when the electricity goes on, we rush to the TV and turn it on. We could listen to the radio all the time, but Mom wants us to preserve batteries so we only listen in the morning and in the late evening.

It's such a weird way to live. I just can't believe it's going to stay like this much longer. On the other hand, I'm already starting to forget what normal life felt like, clocks that were on time, and lights that went on with the flick of a switch, and Internet, and streetlights, and supermarkets, and McDonald's, and...

One thing Matt did say to me was that no matter what the future is, we're living through a very special time in history. He said that history makes us who we are, but we can make history, also, and that anyone can be a hero, if they just choose to be.

Matt's always been my hero, and I think it's a lot harder to be one than he's saying, but basically I know what he means.

But I still miss ice cream and swimming laps and feeling comfortable looking at the night sky.

May 29

The electricity came on this morning around 9 and Mom did what she always does when we realize it's back on. She started a load of laundry.

It was only on for about 15 minutes, and it stayed off all the rest of today.

About 10 minutes ago, we all woke up because of this strange roaring sound. We all raced toward the sound, which turned out to be the washing machine going back on.

Who knew the rinse cycle could be so scary?

Mom says she's staying up until the clothes can go in the dryer. She doesn't think the electricity will stay on long enough to dry the clothes completely, but she figures it's worth a shot.

I really wish we had electricity at 2 PM rather than at 2 AM. But I guess I should think of Mom as a hero of the all-night laundry.

May 30

I don't always know how long the power has been off. It went on in the middle of the night, but by the time I woke up this morning, it was off again.

We're spending more and more time outdoors, just because it's nicer outside and the sun provides natural light. We're all used to seeing the moon now, so that isn't bothering us like it used to.

But we leave a light on in the living room window, so when the electricity does come back on we can go inside and do what we need to do. Today it came on around 1 and we raced in.

Mom went on the Internet, which kind of surprised me. Usually she vacuums or starts a load of laundry.

She's given up changing the time on the clocks.

But this afternoon she skipped all that and went to the Internet. She had heard on the radio this morning that they were starting to list the names of the dead.

She found the names of most of the editors she worked with, and her agent, and a lot of writers she'd met over the years. She found two friends from college and one friend from a long time ago, before we moved here, and Dad's best man and his family. She also found a couple of second cousins and their kids. In less than 10 minutes, she found over 30 names. But one good thing: She checked on Mrs. Nesbitt's son and daughter-in-law and their kids and didn't find them on any list.

I asked her to look up Brandon and she did but couldn't find him. Of course there are still millions of people unaccounted for, but at least there's still hope he's alive. I don't get to go on the board very much, but when I do, no one seems to have heard anything. I can't help thinking that's a good sign.

There were names of people I know that I could have looked up: kids I went to summer camp with, and kids I know from swimming, and old friends from elementary school who moved to New York or California or Florida. But I didn't try to find them. They weren't everyday parts of my life anyway, and it feels wrong somehow to find out if they're dead when I didn't much think about them while they were living.

Jonny looked up baseball players. A lot of them were listed as known dead and a lot more were listed as missing/presumed dead.

Matt looked up kids from his high school class. Only three were listed as dead, but a bunch were listed as missing/presumed dead.

As a test, he looked us up, but none of our names were on any of the lists.

And that's how we know we're alive this Memorial Day.

May 31

The first day without bus service. So naturally it poured.

It wasn't scary rain like it was that other time. No big thunderstorm, no tornado winds. Just good old-fashioned pouring rain.

Matt ended up driving Jonny and me to school. Mom stayed home to take advantage of electricity and work on her book. I hadn't really thought about how hard it must be for Mom to get any writing done without a computer. Or without an agent, or editors, or publishers.

Over half the kids were absent and Jonny says there were even fewer kids at the middle, school. Most of our teachers were there, though, and we actually got a lot of work done. And we had electricity until nearly 2, so even though it was dark outside, the school was really kind of cheerful. Empty but cheerful.

When Jonny came home today, he told us they'd announced that all standardizing testing had been canceled. I've begun wondering what they're going to do about our finals, which should start in two weeks.

We haven't really gotten any schoolwork done, and no one is assigning homework because there's never any way of knowing if there'll be any light to work by.

Peter said over the weekend that he'd heard a rumor that they might just close school next week and promote all of us and hope things are back to normal by September.

I don't know if I want that or not. Except the part about back to normal by September. I know I want that.

Chapter Five

June 2

We all got notices at school today to take home. It said there would be no final exams this semester and our grades would reflect only those tests we'd taken before May 19. We'd be told what our grades are tomorrow in class. If we wanted to raise our average in a course, we were to talk to our teacher next week and see if there was a way of doing that. School would officially close on June 10 and reopen on August 31, unless we heard otherwise.

They're still planning to have graduation, though. Outdoors, with a rain date.

It feels weird to think there aren't going to be any finals, but it's not like I've been studying for them. It's not like I've done any schoolwork in weeks.

I feel bad for kids who are on the cusp, though: One good grade and they won't flunk the course. Sammi for one. I know she's been just below passing in French all year. And I've seen her cram for a final and ace it, which was probably what she planned on doing this year.

She probably doesn't care, though. Actually, except for some of the Really Bright Ivy League types, I doubt anyone cares.

June 3

I got my grades and they're all pretty much as I expected. My math grade was dragged down by those stupid tests (or by those tests where I was stupid), so I know I'm going to have to talk to Mom this weekend about what to do.

All they served for lunch today was peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on stale white bread. We each were allowed one sandwich.

I don't want to whine about being hungry, because I know compared to a lot of kids, I'm eating okay. For breakfast we have cereal with powdered milk. It doesn't taste the same as real milk, but it's still something and it's thanks to Mom, who bought boxes of the stuff on Crazy Shopping Day.

And even if I'm sick of tuna or pasta or canned chicken, I can't say we're not eating supper. So it's not exactly the end of the world for me if lunch consists of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I know I should be grateful we're getting that much. Everyone knows the reason school is closing so early is because they're running out of food for us and they don't know what to do about it.

I had lunch with Megan and Sammi and Dave and Brian and Jenna. Megan didn't eat with her church group, which was a nice change of pace. Half the swim team wasn't at school.

We stood in line and got our sandwiches and people were griping and moaning and it wasn't very pleasant.

We went to our table, and even though we should have nibbled on our sandwiches to make them feel like a full meal, we gulped them down. Three bites and 25 minutes to kill.

Except for Megan. She tore her sandwich in two roughly equal parts and took dainty-lady bites. She finished her half sandwich in more time than it took us to eat our whole ones, and then she asked if anyone wanted the other part of her sandwich.

Everyone (except me) said yes.

She looked around the table and gave the half sandwich to Dave. I have no idea why she picked him, but he didn't ask. He just ate his half sandwich fast, before anyone else had a chance to get to it.

I don't know why this bothers me, but it does.

June 4

Mom and I discussed my grades. I'll be getting a 95 in English, a 94 in history, a 90 in French, a 91 in biology, and a 78 in math.

"I could ask to retake a math test," I said. "If I do well on the test, I'd at least pull my grade up to an eighty."

"What's the point?" Mom said.

I was so glad she wasn't mad, I just said okay and changed the subject. But this evening it hit me. I found Matt and we sat outside under the bean tree. Mom calls it a big weed, but it's so beautiful when it flowers, and it's the last tree to lose its leaves in the fall so I love it.

"Matt, does Mom think we're all going to die?" I asked. I could never ask her that, because I know she'd lie if she did.

Matt was quiet for longer than I would have liked. What I wanted him to do was laugh and say of course not and everything was going to be okay once they got the electrical systems back online and figured out a way of getting oil here so the trucks could start transporting food again.