If I Were the Last Man Alive
Chapter 4

Copyright© 2014 by Number 7

I awakened early. After a bowl of cereal and cold milk, which would soon be non-existent, I drove one of the box trucks to the new house. The early morning air was cool and I felt a sense of wonder watching the sunrise as I drove south on Highway 27.

To get anywhere around Central Florida, I had to pass the exits for Disney World, Sea World and Universal Studios. Anytime I passed those places, I expected a long traffic tie up. How grateful I would have been to have seen traffic on this day.

At the new house, I imagined seeing someone standing outside wondering where the trucks and gear came from. But I was still alone. The house seemed forlorn or lonely or something as I unpacked the truck and trailer.

It was my hope that I could be content here. With that in mind, I set things up the most convenient way.

Of the five bedrooms, I decided to use two of them for storage. The closest one to the kitchen became the water and bottled juice room, along with powdered milk and other dried additives. I erected some portable shelving that I had liberated and stocked the new shelves with all the non-perishables I could fit, moving the rest into the garage.

The second bedroom became the storage room for surplus clothing, bedding, linens and household items that would need replaced fairly often. I had picked up some can openers, plastic dishes, tableware and the like stored and it in that room.

The third bedroom became a place to keep my DVD, music and computer goods. That left two bedrooms as bedrooms, hoping someone might sleep there someday, soon. In each room I left the bed and dresser but removed most everything else to make space for storage.

Wherever I walked in this house, I would find pictures of my bride, the puppies and other family members. I needed to touch my past or go crazy.

By 11:00 AM I was back on the road, driving a car I chose at random, from down the road, towards my house to move some fuel trailers. The trips took all day and I decided to sleep in the Coach at my real house one more night.


When Arthea and I decided to buy a motor home, we were taking care of her mom, who needed lots of attention. Our lives were very active, and I was out of town quite a lot. If we were going to be together, we had to make accommodation for her mom to come along.

I always loved motor homes and houseboats. The thought of taking my kitchen and bedroom with me was so attractive and practical. I always had a clean bed to crawl into and likewise, a clean bathroom. And we knew who'd been there the night before.


In two days I had started to change. My body firmed up and my focus and attention to detail was pretty strong. Planning the next move was so natural — almost without conscious thought. The pain was present, but manageable. I still worked through the challenges and problems, and that kept me sane.

I slept later on the third day. I awakened to dense, low clouds and very real threat of rain. With no weather forecasts, I had to learn to read the weather on my own. So, on this third day, I started my lessons while I ate breakfast and cleaned up.

 
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