In My Mother's Time (2 page)

and slipped
my
hand into hers.
She caressed
my
little
hand
with
her
fingers as she looked down at me with a
soft smile reassuring me of our safety.
As long as I was with her I knew I
would be
fine.

“Mommy” I asked, “where is
daddy?”

She squinted toward the vast
open country
side.

“I don’t know my baby.” She
said softly.

Worry ran across her face like
vermin to spoiling food and she could not
hide it.
I
watched
a
tear
spill
from
the
corner of her eyes she looked down to me
her face burning
red.

“Don’t you worry
my
baby,
your daddy will do his best to find us.”
She whispered tears running silently
down her face following the fine lines   
and

creases time left behind. She
was beautiful but that didn’t mean
anything anymore. Now she was just a
woman alone in the wilderness with the
future of mankind under her
tremendous wing.
Hope
was
not
lost,
but,
what
was living without the man that
produced
happiness for
her.

I could feel heartache bursting
from her normally even tempered energy.
It was thick and black like poisonous
oil suffocating
fish
and
birds
trapped
in
its gooey
fingers.

We spent weeks in that spot, she
built us a make shift shack out of
large branches and mud. We survived
on whatever she could trap or amass
from the surrounding area,
somehow managing to make it taste like
home.

One afternoon she looked at
me intently, “We have to go back and
get supplies or we will be in trouble.”
She said.

“Do not be afraid I won’t let
anything happen to you.” She
smiled.

“Mommy will it be like before?” I asked
confused.

“No baby, it is more calm”
she continued, “though it won’t
look anything like
home.”

“Mommy” I asked quietly, “do
you think daddy is
dead?”

“I don’t know baby.” She said
almost in a
whisper.

We finished our night the same
way we always had. Mom told us
stories that had underlying morals that
eluded

us until we were older and
goodnight songs.

In
the
early
morning
my
mother
woke me up. While we were sleeping
all night long
my
mother had carried
that boat to the water. She carried all of
us to the boat then she picked the baby
up and sat him in the boat. Next she
lifted me up and stuck me next to
him.

“When we get there I may have
to swim under water.” She said
not looking at
me.

“Why?” I
asked.

“To find things we may need”
She continued, “you will sit with the
baby and
keep
safe
I’ll
tie
myself
to
this
rope and
you
will
yank
on
it
if
you
see
or hear
anything.”

“Ok mommy” I
said.

I was afraid to go back or to be
alone in the boat but I didn’t tell her. I
was worried it would disappoint
her. Coming into the first area there
was massive flooding still. We floated
over to a roof top and
my
mother
anchored the boat to the roof. She climbed
onto the roof and turned back to
me.

“Stay here I’ll be right back do
not move” she
said.

I watched her rush over to a
brown square and lift the hatch I wasn’t
sure but it looked like a tiny door.
She peeked her head in for more than
a moment I guess her eyes had to
adjust. She came rushing over to
me excitement all over her lips and
eyes.

“It’s dry inside baby” she
continued, “it’s  a  miracle  everything  we
could

possibly need is down there!” she
tried to whisper. She was shaking
her adrenaline pumping. My
mother carefully pulled the baby out of
the boat
and
placed
him
on
the
roof
she pulled me out and sat me next to
him.

“I want you to lay here next to
your brother, be unseen
my
love” she
said.

She hurriedly pulled our boat up
onto the
roof,
and
did
her
best
to
make
it
and us unseen to possible passers-by.
My mother then tied the rope to a pipe
and the other end to a chimney
vent lowering the pipe down for
stability. She lowered herself into the store
and slowly slid down the
rope.

She came back a few minutes
later with a blow up raft a bicycle
pump some batteries and a large flash
light. She assembled the flashlight
and pumped the  boat  tying it to our
boat.

She quickly shimmied back down
the rope like some modern day
ninja.

My mother rigged up a basket and rope pulley system and
with tremendous speed she brought
up blankets, pots and pans,
dishes, silverware, clothes, shoes and
socks, and finally water and mason jars.
She also brought up a little cooker that
had a blue bottle attached to
it.

She piled bottled water and
canned food onto the raft and went back for
a second raft and more materials.
This time coming up with a shot gun and
a bow and arrows, along
with miscellaneous hygiene and
medical supplies, hunting canopies and
fire starter logs. She brought me up a
few toys and some baby
musical
instruments for the
baby.

For weeks we went back to this
place
and
collected
things
that
we
did
and
did not need. My mother called the
stuff we did not need just in case stuff.
Of course she also wanted us to
be comfortable in the post
apocalypse.

Chapter
three

Eventually
my
mother found
a wooden and metal trailer that
was floating
along
the
street
that
was
now
a canal.
It
had
four
tires
holding
it
up when she found it. Naturally she
came up with the idea of putting more
under it to keep it afloat with heavy cargo
on it, such as wood, dry wall,
and insulation.

For months and months maybe
even years she would get up early in
the morning and float around
collecting anything that could be of use.
She collected
from
hospitals
she
had
a
huge collection of saline and something called penicillin
g.

She had a hospital bed as many
boxes of gloves as she could carry
and stitches. My mother became
hoarder
meets
O.C.D.
everything
neatly
packed
and put away where it could be
easily identified and reached in case
of emergency.

During our daily travels through
the surrounding wilderness
my
mother
and I stumbled upon a creek no bigger
than six feet across. The creek was
a channel from the nearby river we
had traveled up during the flood. I
loved going to the river and was surprised
to

find that the creek had the very
same smooth
quartz
rocks
as
the
river.
These nearly flawless polished stones
were the reason I adored the
river.

One
day
while
walking
down
the
creek the sun was shining through the
thick wood like thin streaks of
light stretching toward us changing
the green hues to a lighter more
vibrant color. The mood was cheerful and
we had forgotten just for a moment
that Dad had been gone for at least
three years. We had forgotten that
showers were so refreshing and that
children once played hopscotch on black
top roads in quiet
cul-de-sacs.

The
warm
air
surrounded
us
in
a
comfy thickness not too hot not too cold.
A soft cool sprinkle of rain began and
I remember how beautiful the
rainbow colors in the water from the 
shinning

sun
was
to
me.
The
drops
were
soft
but thick and the circles in the water
made a visible song of heavenly
delight. Clean pure crisp water was so great
it made me feel
grace.

Drenched we decided to find a place
to sit and make a fire to dry off with.
My mother had the eyes of a hawk and
the ears of a wise old owl. In the
distance she spotted what looked like a
shack with a huge wood wheel that turned
in the water all on its own. I
wondered how I had not heard it groaning
in rotation
before.

Suddenly
my
mother became
quiet
stopping us from noisily
clamoring down the pebble bed side of the
creek. She was positive if anyone was
inside the
tiny
building
we
would
alarm
them. With
a
swift
arm
she
placed
her
pointer finger to pursed lips silently calling
to