If I Were the Last Man Alive - Cover

If I Were the Last Man Alive

Copyright© 2014 by Number 7

Chapter 5

The fifth day dawned sunny and hot. I loaded the last of the things in the trailer, hooked it to the RV and headed for my new home. I started to think of it as the Lake House, since it was along the Chain of Lakes that connects Winter Haven to Lake Alfred.

Driving the bus was fun. It hummed down the road as if it owned the pavement. I drove it at about 55 mph to save fuel and be safe.

At the new house, I looked for a place to park the RV, where it would be most convenient for my use. Since it had the shower and electric oven, I would be using it often — for a while, at least. The AC would be necessary as summer got its legs under it, so I wanted to have it on a hard surface to prevent it from getting stuck after a rain. And I wanted it nearby without blocking the circular driveway to allow room to move trucks in and out without worry.

I picked a temporary spot and unhooked the trailer for un-loading. The trees provided enough shade that I could work without suffering sunburn, and I got to work.

I needed a plan for storing the rest of supplies required for survival. I decided to park the trucks behind a nearby plaza out of sight.

Unloading was a bigger job than I expected. I had a lot of heavy things to move into specific locations. I wasn't done until after 2 PM. The fuel trailer behind the coach would stay put and I would use other vehicles from here on out to move things.

By then, the spring looked way too attractive. I waded down and lay in the water for a little while, cooling off and scouting the area.

I still needed to move a number of things, so I headed home. It took all day and part of the evening to get the fuel tanks towed and stowed, but it wasn't hard work. Activity passed the time and kept me from becoming depressed. It seems hard work will drive out the blues if you give it a good enough try.

With the towing job complete, I looked around the new house for something that felt like home. I spotted one of the photo albums Angela made up of our puppies, and I sat down and leafed through, marveling at her hard work and patience to make the books so beautiful. I had left them out on the new master bed in hopes that they would help get me over the hard spots as I worked through the frustration and grief.

Our two dogs had given us so much joy over the years. When the first one died, it nearly killed us. We eventually re-placed him with another little one, but they were both gone now.

I reminisced about the forty different "tricks" they per-formed. We often clapped when they rang a bell, counted on our hands, slapped their paw into our hands to "give me five," and lots of other silly things we did together. The one little doll had lots of medical problems, but he had the heart of a lion. The vet called him his poster boy.

They brightened up our lives so much that I couldn't re-member a time when they weren't in the center of our decision-making process ... until now.

"Oh, Baby," I said out loud. It was the first time I had spo-ken to Angela — other than in my head — since she died. "If you were only here, this would be so much easier. I miss you so much. I hope you're safe and happy up in Heaven."

If I let it, the grief would kill me. I wasn't ready to give into those terms, so I kicked myself and prepared for the evening.

Since I hadn't done a thing in the new house, I showered from the outside faucet on the bus and cooked a light supper before turning in early. The bed wasn't bad and the nights weren't hot enough that the lack of air conditioning was going to be a problem. At least, not yet.


The solar panel installation directions were pretty complete and surprisingly easy to comprehend. I installed them at both houses over the next couple of days, sufficient to power the basic necessities. The Lake House had a small irrigation well, and I wondered if I could rig it to service the house. If so, the water problem was history.

My new life was coming together almost as if the old one had never existed. I changed and adapted to its demands and solitude. As these first few days taught me, I could pioneer a life that allowed me to live well until things changed someday. I felt a small comfort knowing I could survive this. It relieved a lot of the worry.

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