abyss,” he continued. “The adults in this community have been balancing at the edge of it for more years than you’ve been alive.”
I got up, went over to him and took his hand. “It’s getting worse, Dad.”
“I know.”
“Maybe it’s time to look down. Time to look for some hand and foot holds before we just get pushed in.”
“That’s why we have target practice every week and Lazor wire and our emergency bell. Your idea for emergency packs is a good one. Some people already have them. For earthquakes. Some will assemble them if I suggest it. And, of course, some won’t do anything at all. There are always people who won’t do anything.”
“Will you suggest it?”
“Yes. At the next neighborhood association meeting.”
“What else can we do? None of this is fast enough.”
“It will have to be.” He stood up, a tall, broad wall of a man. “Why don’t you ask around, see if anyone in the neighborhoods knows anything about martial arts. You need more than a book or two to learn good dependable unarmed combat.”
I blinked. “Okay.”
“Check with old Mr. Hsu and Mr. and Mrs. Montoya.”
“Mr. and Mrs.?”
“I think so. Talk to them about classes, not about Armageddon.”
I looked up at him, and he looked more like a wall than ever, standing and waiting. And he had offered me a lot— all I would get, I suspected. I sighed.
“Okay, Dad, I promise. I’ll try not to scare anyone else. I just hope things hold together long enough for us to do it your way.”
And he echoed my sigh. “At last. Good. Now come out back with me. There are some important things buried in the yard in sealed containers. It’s time for you to know where they are— just in case.”
SUNDAY, MARCH 9, 2025
Today, Dad preached from Genesis six, Noah and the ark: “And God saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts and of his heart was only evil continually. And it repented the Lord that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him at his heart. And the Lord said, I will destroy man whom I have created from the face of the earth; both man, and beast, and the creeping thing and the fowls of the air; for it repenteth me that I have made them.
But Noah found grace in the eyes of the Lord.”
And then, of course, later God says to Noah, “Make thee an ark of gopher wood; rooms shalt thou make in the ark, and shalt pitch it within and without with pitch.”
Dad focused on the two-part nature of this situation.
God decides to destroy everything except Noah, his family, and some animals. But if Noah is going to be saved, he has plenty of hard work to do.
Joanne came to me after church and said she was sorry for all the craziness.
“Okay,” I said.
“Still friends?” she asked.
And I hedged: “Not enemies, anyway. Get my father’s book back to me. He wants it.”
“My mother took it. I didn’t know she’d get so upset.”
“It isn’t hers. Get it back to me. Or have your dad give it to mine. I don’t care. But he wants his book.”
“All right.”
I watched her leave the house. She looks so trustworthy — tall and straight and serious and intelligent— I still feel inclined to trust her. But I can’t.
I don’t. She has no idea how much she could have hurt me if I had given her just a few more words to use against me. I don’t think I’ll ever trust her again, and I hate that. She was my best friend. Now she isn’t.
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 12, 2025
Garden thieves got in last night. They stripped citrus trees of fruit in the Hsu yard and the Talcott yard. In the process, they trampled what was left of winter gardens and much of the spring planting.
Dad says we have to set up a regular watch. He tried to call a neighborhood association meeting for tonight, but it’s a work night for some people, including Gary Hsu who sleeps over at his job whenever he has to report in person. We’re supposed to get together for a meeting on Saturday.
Meanwhile, Dad got Jay Garfield, Wyatt and Kayla Talcott, Alex Montoya, and Edwin Dunn together to patrol the neighborhood in shifts in armed pairs. That meant that except for the Talcotts who are already a pair (and who are so angry about their garden that I pity any thief who gets in their way), the others have to find partners among the other adults of the neighborhood.
“Find someone you trust to protect your back,” I heard Dad tell the little group. Each pair was to patrol for two hours from just before dark to just after dawn. The first patrol, walking through or looking into all the back yards would get people used to the idea of watchers while they were still awake enough to understand.
“Make sure they see you if you get first watch,” Dad said. “The sight of you will remind them that there will be watchers all through the night. We don’t want any of them mistaking you for thieves.”
Sensible. People go to bed soon after dark to save electricity, but between dinner and darkness they spend time on their porches or in their yards where it isn’t so hot. Some listen to their radio on front or back porches. Now and then people get together to play music, sing, play board games, talk, or get out on the paved part of the street for volleyball, touch football, basketball, or tennis. People used to play baseball, but we just can’t afford what that costs in windows. A few people just find a corner and read a book while there’s still daylight. It’s a good, comfortable, recreational time. What a pity to spoil it with reminders of reality. But it can’t be helped.
