Chapter 17: Lori's Story

Finding another person was an unbelievable shock. After all I'd been through; it took time before I felt safe enough to let my guard down. He was about my age and seemed to be nice. His clothes were clean and pressed, which was more than I could say for mine.

I hadn't had a proper shower since the day the power failed — three days after everyone died, or whatever happened. It was not my style to be oily, ragged, or dirty. But the circumstances were so bizarre, I wondered if anything would ever be normal again.

I had to trust him if I wanted to live through this. Nothing was working out for me. He seemed like he had it all together. It wasn't like I had a lot of choices. I'd been hungry, dirty, scared and so lonely I actually thought I wanted to die before he found me. I needed to trust him but didn't want to be vulnerable or hurt or worse.

He asked me where I was when everything changed and how I'd survived since then. When I went to answer I started to cry and couldn't stop.

He looked so sad and then put his arms around me. "It's okay. Go ahead and cry. I did. I cried a lot and it helped," he said.

His compassion broke my heart and gave me a strange sort of thrill at the same time. It was such a comfort to find somebody else. After all the nights I lay on the church bench and prayed for God to send someone to come and find me, He finally answered. And the person He sent just happened to be sweet and cute! It was almost too good to be true and I too wondered if it all was a delusion.

When I finally stopped crying, I realized he had held me through it all, never once doing anything improper. That made me think he might be okay. For the first time, I thought I might live through whatever had happened to everybody.

The church was as quiet as a hospital morgue while Jamie held me and waited for me to pull myself together. I knew I needed to get it together and keep it together, because everyone was still gone.

Even if there were only the two of us, I didn't know him.

I noticed his wedding ring and jerked back, looking at him in a different light.

He followed my gaze to the ring.

"My wife died of breast cancer almost two years ago. I wear the ring on Sundays when I go to church to sing and pray. It makes me feel like she's not totally gone as long as I have her ring around my neck and mine on my finger. The rest of the week I keep it in a drawer because I'm afraid of catching it on something I'm working on and injuring myself. I am trying not to take any unnecessary chances."

He pushed his shirt aside just a little bit to show me a woman's wedding ring hanging from a gold chain around his neck. "Are you married? Do you have a husband and children who are missing along with everyone else?"

"I'm still single, "I said. "No kids, though I want them someday —"

I stopped, thinking he might take that the wrong way, but he didn't make any comment or change expression. He just waited for me to continue.

"There was no one to talk to ... no one to help. When the hospital in Kansas City sent me down here to work in the nuclear lab, I thought I'd only be here a few months or so, at the most.

"I didn't bring a car. It's too far to walk to the hotel where I stayed and I haven't had a change of clothes nothing much to eat and no water for showering for weeks. It's been so hard and scary and lonely.

I knew I was rambling. "I've been so hungry and unsure whether to go back to Kansas City, how to get there, or even if it's possible to go home. I began to think I would never see anybody again and I've cried myself to sleep every night for weeks."

I buried my face in his chest and sobbed a little longer.

Jamie acted like nothing was more important than holding me while I cried. He listened to me as I spoke. It was like he hung on every word.

Maybe he did. It could have been that he was lonely and he simply wanted to hear another voice, but I thought that he was really listening. He didn't seem like a lot of men who only pretend to listen.

I pushed myself out of his arms and looked into his blue eyes. There was such gentleness in his expression. He had to be as scared as I was, but by the way he handled himself, I couldn't tell.

He said he had a houseboat down at the dock and it would take us to his car near Orlando, where we could drive to his house in a town named Winter Haven. Apparently he had a found lot of supplies to help survive for a long time.

The boat had food and a shower and working plumbing and we could drive the boat up the Saint John's to his car. He said that if it was okay, I could tell him about everything that had happened to me while we drove his boat back to Orlando. That seemed like the best idea I had ever heard! It meant I wouldn't have to be so afraid and hungry anymore. I was suddenly famished and ashamed of my appearance. He must have picked up on that, because he assured me there were all the things a girl needed to clean up on the boat.

We walked to his car parked right in front of the church and drove to the marina. He said the fuel tanks were full, as were the water tanks, so I could use the bathroom and shower to my heart's content. He reached in a closet and pulled out a box of woman's toiletries. I felt funny digging around in someone else's makeup and beauty supplies, but it was such a relief I couldn't wait to be clean.

"Do you want me to fix you lunch before you shower, or would you rather eat after?" His voice was soft and gentle, like his eyes. He really did care. And not just about himself.

"I've dreamed about hot, running water for the last three weeks. I can't wait to wash off. Hungry as I am, I want to shower first."

As soon as the words left my lips, I felt guilty. Here this stranger had taken me in without knowing anything about me and I was acting selfish when I should be thankful beyond words. But he didn't see it that way.

"Before you do, tell me your sizes. I'll fix you a snack to tide you over until supper and then run to the store to get you some new clothes. That'll also give you some privacy while you take care of yourself."

I was shocked! He offered me the one thing I needed most but didn't even realize until he said it. He understood I was still apprehensive about his intentions. He dealt with it in such a simple and kind way that I didn't have to wish he'd go outside while I tended to myself.

I blinked back tears as I thanked him for his kind consideration. And I told him the sizes that would fit me best. He asked about my shoe size, which I had skipped. Mine were so dirty and completely ruined, I was ashamed of them and mortified that he noticed.

Just like that, he was gone and I had the boat to myself.

It was big. The living room and kitchen made up the front half, with bathrooms and two bedrooms toward the back. The boat had to be over fifty feet long ... maybe more. The bathroom was plenty large enough for my needs and there was a fresh set of towels and washcloths hanging on the shower door.

A new cake of Dove soap lay in the soap dish. A toothbrush still in the package next to a brand new tube of Crest toothpaste sat on the sink.

The box contained all the other things a girl needs when she hasn't showered in a while. It felt so inviting, especially since I felt greasy, sticky and filthy.

When I turned the shower on, I immediately felt hot water. I almost cried.

For a few seconds I turned the water on and off. It felt so good to have running water again. I hadn't been exaggerating when I said I had dreamed of a hot shower; when I stepped in, it was all I had dreamed of and more.

I stayed in a long time, luxuriating in the hot water and soapsuds. I shaved with one of the disposable lady razors in the box. The shampoo lathered thickly; I discovered a bottle of really good cream rinse in the bottom of the vanity and used that.

When I finished, I wrapped myself in a lovely white, terrycloth robe that hung on the inside of the bathroom door. I found some expensive perfume and dabbed it on. That as much as everything else made me feel better about myself.

Once I wore some clothes that didn't make me look like a walking potato sack, I would be almost back to my old self.

Jamie called that he was back. I answered him that I would be done soon, so he knew that I knew he was there. I still experienced a lot of uncertainty. A hot shower didn't erase the strangeness of the circumstances. I wanted to establish that I was strong and would stick up for myself from the start, even if he were cute.

I should not have worried. He shouted that he was setting the clothes on the bed in the adjoining bedroom. I could simply slide back the pocket door and go back and forth in privacy. He said he would be up on the roof of the boat, and there was something to eat and drink on the kitchen counter when I came out.

When I heard footsteps on the roof, I opened the pocket door and looked into the bedroom. Though small, it housed a queen size bed on a platform across from the bathroom door. Nightstands sat on either side of the bed with a built in, six-drawer dresser along the wall. In the corner was a small closet. There was one window and it looked out on the city. I stood staring for a minute, just enjoying the view now that I felt safe for the first time since it happened.

Several large shopping bags lay on the bed. Most men have deplorable taste in women's clothes, but Jamie was not among them. He picked out some skirts, several pairs of slacks, four pairs of shorts, about a dozen tops of various styles, long and short sleeved, along with a supply of hose, socks, under things and accessories. It wasn't everything I would need, but it was a whole lot more than I had, which consisted of one set of filthy work clothes.

I heard a washing machine running somewhere in the boat and figured he was washing my filthy clothes. That meant I would have pastel underclothes and a faded work uniform as soon as the cycle finished. Again I was very wrong.

I dressed and found most things fit fine. I had lost some weight in the past weeks, but he had anticipated that and brought two sizes, just in case.

The underclothes were nice quality. He had some sense of fashion, judging by the choices he made. His footwear choices were pretty basic, but the size was right. I found a pair of Nike sneakers that fit and felt really comfortable, so I slipped them over a pair of soft, white, cotton socks.

Feeling clean, I peeked out around the door. I followed the sound and located the washer in a closet along the wall by the big bedroom. He had run a load of white clothes to clean my undergarments, which were ready to move into the dryer.