“Bee?” a hesitant voice spoke, ripping her away from her book.
Louise stood at the bottom of the stairs, peering at her with a mixture of fear and understanding.
“How did we get here?” She walked closer, socks whispering softly across the end of the runner.
Bee smiled and put down her book, marking her page carefully. Louise would wake up right at the juicy part, she mused then felt guilty for her flippant thoughts.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Bee asked, pulling the blankets off herself and rising to take Louise’s hand. “Come sit on the couch with me. We’re safe here, dear.” Bee led her friend to the couch where they sat. She kept a hold of Louise’s hand.
Louise scrunched her eyes shut. It was an expression Bee had become familiar with. Louise was trying to recall the events that led up to the present moment.
Her eyes snapped open, wide and lively in her face. “I remember being in the van and studying a map.”
“That’s good, dear,” Bee spoke soothingly. “What else?” she prodded gently, squeezing her friend’s hand.
“Oh!” Louise exclaimed. “The was an older gentleman and a dog.” She looked around with interest, taking in the unadorned walls of the cabin and its Spartan furnishings. “Is this his cabin?” Louise asked. She smiled broadly. “It is, isn’t it? I almost remember the drive here.”
Her grin was infectious and Bee found herself smiling back.
“That’s very good, dear,” she said. “Are you hungry? Rodney said we could make ourselves at home. I’m sure there’s something in the kitchen I could whip up.” Bee let go of Louise’s hand and rose from the couch. Her stomach rumbled and she realized just how famished she was. What with running from one emergency to another, Bee wasn’t quite sure when she last ate.
“I’ll help you,” Louise spoke, following her into the kitchen.
Rodney
After a few weeks in the cabin with Rodney and Louise, Bee was feeling quite at home. She still had her worries, plenty of those to be sure, but her days had taken on the familiar rhythms of life.
“You don’t look well,” Bee said, leaning over Rodney.
The man sat in the easy chair, skin pale and breath coming a little too quickly.
“I’ll be all right in a moment,” he spoke breathily. “I just need my pill to kick in.” He closed his eyes and leaned back against the headrest.
Bee wondered just what pill Rodney had taken but decided not to ask. She was betting it had something to do with his heart. There were many older men with bad hearts and Bee felt saddened to think Rodney might be one of them.
“All right then,” Bee said, patting him gently on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you alone.” She moved to walk away then turned back. “But,” she emphasized, pointing at Rodney, “bear in mind that I will be back to force some soup down your throat if you haven’t eaten by lunch.”
The corner of his lip lifted in a smile and he made a shooing gesture with his hands. “Go on, woman,” he said. “Leave me in peace.” His eyes twinkled when he said it.
Bee nodded curtly and turned around, grinning the whole while. She headed into the kitchen to make coffee. In the weeks she and Louise had been here, she’d gotten to know Rodney fairly well. He was a pleasant man and Scout was a very good dog, but Bee thought he should take better care of himself. She’d made it her mission to see that he ate at least two square meals a day. Trying at first for three, but Rodney had gotten cranky and hidden in his room until after lunch.
Men are such children, Bee thought amusedly. Louise was still asleep but Bee made enough coffee for both of them, knowing her friend would likely be up soon to enjoy it.
“If she gets up at all today,” Bee muttered, setting water to boil on the wood stove.
Louise hadn’t gotten out of bed for the past few days, except to use the facilities and she’d taken little food. Bee was worried about her fragile friend’s mental state, but she had bigger concerns. They were running out of supplies.
The kettle began to bubble, heating quickly on the stove.
Rodney had a generator to run the electricity but he was rapidly running out of gas. They used the wood stoves as much as possible, only turning the generator on once daily to keep the gas from becoming stale. Bee knew they would have to leave and hunt for supplies soon or just find somewhere else to stay.
“When this is all over,” Bee stated, sitting at the utilitarian wooden table and resting her chin on her fists. “I’m giving myself a spa day, manicure, pedicure, massage. The whole works.” She thumped her fist down on the table, causing the ceramic sugar jar to jangle. It was squat and white in the shape of a miniature teapot.
“What’s all the ruckus in here?” Louise asked, poking her head into the kitchen. Her hair was sleep-tousled but she looked rested and alert.
“Oh, nothing,” Bee smiled, gladdened to see her friend up and moving.
Louise hadn’t slipped into one of her catatonic states since their arrival but she had quite a few days where she was afflicted with crippling depression. She never said anything about it directly but Bee had known Louise for a very long time. Louise couldn’t slip much by her.
The kettle whistled and Bee rose to quiet it.
“I’ll get it,” Louise spoke, gently pressing Bee back down into the chair. She smiled and Bee nodded.
Louise opened the beige painted wooden cabinet and
