Induction

The store’s increasing stench of unwashed bodies and outhouse hit me as I walked through the doors. Poor ventilation and lack of proper bathroom facilities were violating my senses and calling forth my gag reflex. An outdoor shower had been constructed by the edge of the seawall. Hoses were rigged to a showerhead and a man-made pump system allowed the residents to take a ghetto sea-water shower. While the water from the canal was endless, the manpower to use the pump was in short supply. A schedule had been created to allow each member of the compound one shower a week, and soldiers twice that number to wash off the stains of battle.

The toilet situation, on the other hand, proved more difficult. The first few days found us shortsighted and the toilets became a cesspool. The toilets would flush on gravity alone, so every morning we would drag sea water in five gallon buckets up to the bathrooms. The saying, “If it’s yellow, let it mellow. If it’s brown, flush it down,” soon became our motto. Each nonmilitary person, save for the children, was assigned to bathroom duty. In theory, the sea water was great.

What we failed to realize was the mess it would make as we filled the toilets with water to force flush. This chore quickly became the most hated. It was pretty much guaranteed to leave the unlucky cleaner with feces and urine splashed up their legs and all over the floor. Within a day the bathroom had begun to smell so bad that most male residents took to urinating off the seawall. I even caught one of the kids taking a dump on the back lawn at one point.

The Florida heat did nothing to aid the foul odors. One of the battery-powered thermometers showed the temperature inside the store at eighty-seven degrees. With no windows to open for a cross-breeze, the sun baked down on the building. I had pulled bathroom duty that morning. Talk about adding insult to injury? I had just finished cleaning the mess left by Sandra. Luckily, it would also be my turn for the shower that afternoon. So at least I could clean whatever foulness and germs had hitched a ride on me.

We didn’t need to worry about food; the shelves were stocked. We had no access to fresh foods or protein, however, so we gained little sustaining energy and nutrients from our meals. Potable water would become our biggest issue should we need to hide in the store for an extended length of time. We counted enough bottled and jugged water to last us two months. Ten cases had been stored in the helicopter along with boxes of canned food. The medical equipment had been removed to make room for this food. Should something happen, the aircraft could carry ten souls to safety. Our number of residents was currently seventy-six. Twelve new refugees had joined us, but in the process, we had lost fifteen soldiers in the field. This loss impacted our safety and there had been rumblings from the men that the risk outweighed the benefit. I felt for the loss of those men, but surely the benefit was in the twelve rescued souls.

I passed Finn and Noelle in the newborn section of the store as I made my way to the showers. Finn was holding tiny outfits in the air for Noelle’s approval, and they both wore huge smiles. They were making the best of our circumstances, and focusing on the baby allowed them the means to block out all the bad stuff. I smiled and gave them a little finger wave as I went by, pointing to the onesie I liked best. The one-piece read “My mom’s hotter than your mom,” and featured a goofy dog from a popular comic strip. Finn looked victorious; it must have been his choice as well.

Jake was waiting for me when I got out of the shower. He wore a coy grin and told me to follow him up to the roof for a surprise. Daphne was right on our heels. She barely left my side anymore, choosing to stand inside the shower area and get rained on so she didn’t lose sight of me.

Once on the roof, I saw that candles surrounded a picnic area, transforming the utilitarian setting into a calming retreat with their soft glow. An air mattress covered with a plush comforter and big square pillows sprawled beside a wicker basket, and champagne flutes filled with something bubbly lay on top.

Jake handed me a glass and we walked over to the short roof wall and looked out on the town. The bubbles tickled my nose as I took a sip of the five-dollar gourmet champagne a la Target. I was overwhelmed by the romantic gesture, and we stood there with my head on his shoulder and his arms around me.

The sky had started turning the pinks and purples of dusk. Fires burned in the distance and black smoke billowed up to the sky. Far off noises captivated me. “That sounds like gunfire. Is it possible that we aren’t alone? Could there be more people struggling to survive out there?”