Continued from part 9 of the Devastation Series.

Words that I would never have said before traipsed through my mind. The music played and the excitement that I had felt with my head out the window diminished. Not non-existent, but submerged under the layers of dread. It was a fear of discovery and the unearthing or stirring of things that were perceived settled. As I prepared to face the inevitable, I decided to let it go until the time came. I reached around and grabbed one of the worn books from the box and rested it on the steering wheel. The cover became visible under the passing street lights while I distracted myself by flipping through the pages. The strobing lights illuminated paragraph after paragraph. Like a malfunctioning television signal, I was able to read the headlines as I neared home.

Alexa pulled into the drive and the car went into a parked mode. “Alexa, exit routine.” The statement was loud in the small car cabin. The navigation pane scrolled through the self-check diagnostics and displayed the miles until next service events. The seat belt rotated off of me and the cabin illuminated with basic reading lights while I stared at the walkway leading to the front door. I opened the car door and grabbed the box from the gap between the seats. The small space called the trunk could be accessed from just about anywhere in the vehicle. I carried the box by the handles in front of me and used my lower body to push the door shut. “Alexa, lock the car,” and she followed with an affirmation followed by the sound of security being enabled.

The sun just started to crest into the sky. I managed to free up a thumb and opened the door to the house. I scanned the area and realized that Maggie was not up yet. Trying to not make any noise, I walked lightly through the house. I was not trying to hide – but also not trying to bring extra attention to myself. I heard the alarm clock starting to buzz followed by stirring as she silenced it with fumbling sleepy hands. As I walked down the stairs to the basement, I told Alexa to brew a pot of coffee. I figured that I would lose my second wind very soon and would need every bit of wit that I could muster. The beans ground and I could hear the steam preparing. I sat the box down by my desk and pulled the contents out of the box. I lined everything up in unique piles and sat cross-legged on the floor. I requested the alternative station at a lower volume and the downstairs came alive. Upstairs, the alarm went off again, and a small thud vibrated through the floor. The alarm stopped abruptly mid loop.

I walked upstairs and refilled my coffee from the brewed pot. There was a rustling from the bedroom and it was obvious that she was not out of bed yet. I contemplated going into the bedroom but went back downstairs instead. I surveyed the room and concocted a game plan for the next couple of hours. I grabbed the Linx and placed my phone in while folding the keyboard backward to form a tablet. I opened my notes app and started reviewing the notes that I had taken in the apartment. I had made comments about small details such as what kind of animals he was researching. The weather research that was noted was also of interest to me. I imagined it as a paint by numbers and only had a few spots colored in. I quickly flipped through the Journals that I had already read as if I was making a childhood animation. I refreshed my memory with some light skimming and placed them to the side. I grabbed the numerically next journal and slowly started to study the pages. The text was very consistent with the prior journals. The story continued to unfold for me.

The pages were worn from hours of writing. I envisioned the book open like a placemat as questions were asked and answers searched. I ruminated on the text and thoughts of the journal pages. I escaped to the dream that I had not that long ago and I wondered if I would have that dream again. Would it always be a dream? I imagined what that life would have been like if I had lived it. I did not take many notes while I read through the material for the first time. I was making mental notes that I would jot down later. However, I kept trailing off in tangents. What was research to Samuel, was a paintbrush to my imagination. I was drawn back to the basement and reality by the thud and thumb from footsteps directly above me. The floor squeaked as Maggie brought life to the upstairs. The bitter smell of coffee whiffed past my nose and I took a sip.

The footsteps walked down the stairs. “Jake?” a voice called to me as she approached. Sleep was still on her face as she yawned while covering her mouth. “Yes, Maggie?” I replied.
“Where were you this morning?” She managed to mumble out mid-yawn.
“I couldn’t sleep. I woke on the couch… and started thinking about things,” I looked down towards the journals.
“What’s that?” She trailed off and picked back up, “I noticed you reading them the other day…” I let out a deep breath and pondered the inevitable conversation. I swigged my coffee and started. I shared that I could not sleep the last night and that I wish she would have woken me for bed. I tested the waters with some tidbits of excitement that I have uncovered within the writings but was careful to not be too vulnerable. I explained the routine job that led to new thoughts. While I wanted to pass along my passion, I realized the situation and casually explained my curiosity. My explanation was deflated at best. “It’s just something that I have been doing, and am curious about, y’ know?” I passed along while studying her reactions. The glazed over look explained everything that I needed to know. Maggie reluctantly nodded and stood in stillness for a moment. She was lost somewhere between waking up and navigating biases. Then, just as quickly as she came downstairs, she said she was going to shower and eluded to letting me be. I was caught off guard but considered the option that I was being supported. Shortly after she left I heard the water running through the pipes in the house and music through floorboards.

I knew that the dust had not settled yet. She did not know about the citation or at least had not brought it up yet. She did not know about the co-op package at my dad’s and my sudden interest in that lifestyle. She knew what I explained to her but not the level of interest that I had. I opened the next journal and started reading. My viewing lens had changed over the last couple of days. I was studying the journals to find out where Samuel was and how to live that life simultaneously immersed myself into the paragraphs, not just reading it like a story. The day slipped away from me and there was little interaction with Maggie. I did, however, finish all the journals and made quite an extensive set of notes. I ended my day reading the books and notes from Samuel’s shelf. Through hours of studying, I was able to know Samuel in a way that I had not. I ended the night on the couch.

The lack of sleep caught up with me Monday afternoon. I grabbed an extra coffee and fought through yawns as I finally worked on the report. I was able to answer all of the questions for each of the apartments – except 116. As I completed the report, I noted that I was not able to determine if the contents were OK for renovation. Renovation meant that the cleaning crew could strip all personal effects and convert the apartment to the company’s style of choice, which usually was a consistent handful of themes. Another crew would update the air intake, filtering systems, and any other out of date to code. I would make some notes during my review, which indicated if the unit was modernized or not. Also, my walk thru was to ensure that no hazardous items were, to the best of my knowledge, on the property.

After submitting the report, I took a break from work and started looking over my notes from 116. I moved the digital note sections into a group of categories such as self-sustainment, location, and current times, where he explained the world and current events. They also painted context for some of the thoughts and triggers for research, I presumed. I looked up to the sound of knocking. Rob, tall and lanky matching his wiry voice was standing outside. He had his PPE on and entered after I motioned for him, as I looked away from the research. “Hey Jake,” he trailed off.
“Rob… what can I do for you today, fine Sir?” I inquired.
“Got your report. I was asked to follow up on a few things that you mentioned in it.” He proposed.
“Sure – go ahead – fire away dude.” I casually laid out there.
“Dennis reviewed the files and noticed there was one apartment left to survey.” He stated.
“116, I assume, I am familiar,” I informed him. He was just a messenger for the area manager. His timid manner also lent to his inquisitive nature. 
“They are really on me to get you guys to finish these quickly…” he started.
“I know you are just doing your job…” I interjected to reassure him.
“…they apparently have a strict timeline to turn this one around. If you don’t finish – then they cannot continue…” He was paraphrasing, I assumed. 
“I got it…” I affirmed, “but I found some interesting things in 116 that I studied… but the rest is done.” It was hard to not be frustrated with his reminders, but I also knew that my job was to flip it and do it quickly. My delay meant that schedules could be backed up and revenue could be lost. I knew, that I was not that far behind, but I still held some guilt for my lack of timeliness.
“Do you think you will have 116 finished this week?” Rob questioned, accepting my answers.
“I will have it complete by mid next week…” I shot out buying a little more window.
“Someone is going to be renting that apartment soon – and unless you want to do that… you need to get it turned…” He stated, gave a cocky thumbs up, smirk, and then backed away. He was right – and I just needed to get the material that I wanted out. The journals could be boxed up if I needed to. I was sure that is what I would do. I pondered going over there after work and grabbing more. I took a sip from my coffee, dug back into my workload, and planned on a trip after work.

I finished work a little later than I normally would that night. I took several breaks during the day to explore small bits of research as my mind strayed. I found that feeding my mind in casual bits throughout the day worked best, but that wandering cost me a few mins at the end of the day. I packed up, put on my PPE, and got into my car. I opened the glovebox and scoot the PPE to the side, pulling out the micro recorder. I connected it and restarted the file from Samuel. With the newness last time, I wondered if I had missed something important. Had he said where he was going in the beginning and I did not hear it during its novelty. I rested my hand on the wheel as if I was driving while I passed through town. My mind focused on the words in the audio.

I paused the audio as I went into the apartment. Remembering my PPE this time, I paused before getting out of the car to make sure that I had everything else that I would need. I walked into the apartment and gazed at the world in front of me. Samuel would sit at that desk, I imagined. I bet he would gaze out the window for hours switching from writing to weighing the realities of the world outside. I imagined him waking up, daydreaming, sleeping, and dreaming… what the normal was before the Devastation compared to the normal afterward… when people accepted and tried to resume life… While I walked around I looked for another box but did not see one at the time. I pulled the next journal off the shelf and started to read the words. After I was finished, I continued to the next one, After completing nine journals I picked up the tenth and noticed the time on my watch. I did not see the sun go down or the texts asking where I was. I lost myself inside of the material. I replied to the last text saying that I lost track of time and was on my way home. 

I looked inside the closet, which I had missed prior, and found a small box. I gathered several more journals and from the shelf and placed them sequentially into the box beside the ones that I had finished. I got my PPE ready and walked out of the apartment, closing it up behind me. The silence of the night and the cool breeze flowed over my body. I loaded the box into the car and got situated inside of the car cabin, raising the PPE on top of my head. The drones are still patrolling the streets and I watched several make passes in front of the complex and cross-sections of road. “Alexa, home,” I called and began the trip back. I turned the audio from Samuel back on and listened to the next section on my trip. I listened closely for details of locations. As I listened, Samuel referenced the Midwest several times but that was a large swath of land. I needed more contextual clues but made a note that the section was a step forward.

The driveway lights created a runway for Alexa to park the car. I carried the box of books into the house. Most of the lights were shut off by now. Every movement that I made seemed to make large disturbances throughout the house. I tiptoed towards the bedroom and could see a large bunch of blankets curled up on Maggie’s side of the bed. I felt like a child sneaking as I squeaked and creaked downstairs. As I entered a fresh smell of dragon’s blood and lavender danced throughout the basement. The music also started to play when the motion sensors detected my movements.

As I organized the read and unread journals, footsteps sounded overhead. Maggie came down the stairs, slightly groggy from waking up, and impatiently asked me where I had been.
“Hey, Maggie… I apologize…” I started. She quickly interrupted me.
“Don’t hey me… you can’t text or call me to tell me that you won’t be home for dinner?” She snapped.
“I stayed late at work. I finished an important report – and needed to swing by one of the new complex units so I could get some things figured out.” I defended myself.
“Jake – what has gotten into you? You are checked out… You don’t communicate… you are becoming like your father.” She asserted with her eyes narrowed sending both accusing and questioning signals.
“Maggie…listen,” I began to plead but was cut off.
“I am going to bed, Jake. I have to work in the AM. Pull your head out of your ass and sleep on the couch.” With that, she turned and pounded her way up the stairs to the bedroom. Her words stung. They were simultaneously accurate and unfair. The clock read 1030 PM. I grabbed a drink from the fridge and made it stronger than normal. I took a swig from the large bottle before putting it back into the freezer.

I grabbed the journals and placed all of them in the larger box then on the desk. I scooted over to the couch and collapsed. I had a vast array of emotions inside of me. Each took turns like a whirlwind interrupted by the next. I was enjoying myself while exploring this past life and another world. I felt like I found inspiration in those journals. He was a person inside of that world losing control, but making a plan, and working through it. As new issues arose, Samuel would explore, research, and experiment with different ways of thinking or doing things.

I was learning to think differently and followed his lead. I felt trapped in my current life and was just realizing that. I did not feel like I fit in, anymore. I just wanted Maggie to support me. She had not in a long time though. I did not know where or when we diverged. I often just felt comfortable. I loved her but doubted that I liked her anymore. I decided, though, that I was going to try harder. We could work on some things and turn that ship around. She was right this time, I was not being myself. “But should a person be that which they did not like?” I rhetorically asked myself. Where did our excitement go, I wondered? I sunk into the couch and rested my cup on my left knee while my phone was on my other knee. As I wrapped up the night I opened my email. I saw that a note was sent from my dad. My co-op box had arrived.

I woke up to my pre-alarm alarm cackling an annoying animal sound. I had been known to sleep like a ferret. The first alarms were my way of pulling me out of the dead sleep and prepare me for the actual wake up alarms. Maggie was well underway and buzzing around like a pollinating bee, flower to flower. I hobbled up the stairs trying to shake off the stiffness and prepared myself a strong to-go coffee. The cup drop got Maggie’s attention and she bellowed down the hallway from whatever room that she was in, “Are you coming home tonight Jake?” Sarcasm pursed my lips but I answered with “Yes, Maggie… I have an errand to run after work but…” Just like that, she disappeared. I grabbed the finished coffee and went to the bedroom to get ready for the day. I needed a shower to wash off the drink and tingling from my molded couch body.

I picked an activewear shirt, my favorite jeans, and the first under-items that the dispenser displayed. Maggie awakened much earlier than I had and been finished with the bedroom and bathroom. I loaded my normal settings and proceeded to rinse off. The smell of tea-tree oils cleared my nasal cavities and I grew a rejuvenated feeling deep within. That feel was stifled as I heard the door swing open and felt a draft whoosh the humidity out and cold breeze in. “I need you to try Jake. All I do is try for you.” She said. Confusion rushed over me and I could only replay memories that contradicted everything that she said. “Ok, Maggie…” I said in a sorrowful pity. Then, like a thief in the night, she was gone. I continued to beat myself up for the balance of the shower. I stood in the water downpour like a drowning rat and lethargy kept me from swimming. After I heard the house door slam shut, I shut the shower off and succumbed to the day starting, I reached into the fridge and took a small shot of Southern Comfort.

I force focused only on actual work all day at the office to escape the depression and guilt that had crept in. I was distant and withdrawn at each meeting. I focused on taking notes and capturing everything that was going on. That was not my first slip into those feelings but it has been a few years. As soon as my last meeting was over, I strapped on my PPE and slinked to my car. I shook and rolled my head around taking deep breaths before I got settled into the cabin. “Alexa, Dad’s – country route,” I stated. “Short or long route, Jake?” She asked. I needed a long way this time. The car secured me and I turned on music for driving. It was a sad/angry mix that I had procured, cherry-picking the best songs from my favorite artists.

I pulled into my Dad’s and was hoping to see him this time. Being around my father, felt comforting to me, safe, even over a distance, but he was not home so I texted him to see where he was and if I could get the crate. My phone rang and I picked up through the car audio system. (cough cough) “Jake?” He asked as I answered with a somber hello. “Je’ sus Jake – can you act any happier?” He pried. 
“Hey, Dad. Sorry – got a lot going on,” I replied, trying to convince both of us. “Where are you at anyway?”
“Not feeling well Jake-ster. I am get ‘n old. Nothing major – just need to rotate the old tires and maybe a tune-up on the ol’ body.” He joked back at me.
“Okay Dad,” I said to acknowledge his sarcasm. “Where can I grab the co-op from?”
“Just scan your finger and you can get in, it is right inside of the door.” He shared. I thanked him and apologized for the trouble which he, in turn, assured me that it was not. I opened the door and walked in to see the counter filled with prescription bottles and notes. The crate was right inside of the door like he said. I walked to the counter and saw Fentanyl as well as Iressa bottles stacked on a note which read “Onology appt?” I performed a quick search and both medications were NSCLC, or non-small-cell-lung-cancer, medications. Horror spiked through my body and I lost my breath. I urgently called my Dad back but he didn’t answer. I marked a text urgent “What – cancer?!?!” I replied. He replied, “At Dr., I am OK Jake, I will update you when I know more. Now stop…” His words were dismissive but my dad was always a straight shooter so, I took a moment to collect myself and left.

On the long drive back home I tried to not worry about my dad. I needed to see him more, I thought. I can help him, I convinced myself as if he was already terminal. I was shaken and cranked the music to get the emotion out before I made it back to the house. I pulled myself together and the adrenaline was carrying me by that point. I arrived home and felt very numb. So many things were stirring in my mind and I need some help to sort them all out. I knew Maggie would still be angry – but that she would be able to listen. She always gave sound advice. I could not fault her for that. As I entered the door I sat the crate beside the table. “Jake – what is that?” I heard from afar. I looked for her to make eye contact.

Before I could say anything she realized that I had been to my dad’s. As I scanned the room I noticed the journals and my notes were open on the table. She had been reading the material. Feelings of violation and hurt raced through my body. Before I could answer she lit into me. She went off about the citation, me being distant, me sneaking around, not trying, and how she was not happy anymore. It was a rant and monologue that I was unable to appeal. Before I could respond, the words stabbed me through the heart. “I am done with you.” She coldly stated. Anger raged in my body and I said the only thing that came to mind. Self-defense and preservation escaped my mouth. “I cannot believe you, Maggie. You haven’t let me near enough to…” I stopped myself. “This was such a lie.”

Without a plan and on short notice, I made a couple of trips to the office, Maggie’s, and ended up with a car full of things at Samuels. I was not able to think through everything until I got to 116 and unload the car. I called into work for Wednesday and laid back on the couch. I did not know where to begin at that moment. I finished the bottle of Southern Comfort and fell asleep.

Read more of the Devastation Series.