3 Paws Saloon Attic

I sit here in my shelter, thinking how everything, no matter how well planned, still boils down to a game of snatch and grab in the end. 

From outside comes the muffled sounds of shrieks and cries as people make a mad dash;some for shelter, some for their cars hoping to flee the oncoming threat, the sound almost covered by the ongoing sirens. I tell myself, I'm safe here, here in my small hidey hole. I briefly wonder if others are faring as well. 

It wasn't as if this came without warning. There had been time to react, to plan. There were public shelters for those who could reach them in time. Of course most had scoffed, the idea of such a disaster seemingly spun from science fiction, rather than reality.  Not even our so-called scientists could agree on how severe the impending impact would be, or if it would really happen.  Still the news had been full of scenarios, what we might expect to happen, the effects it would have. The one thing all the 'experts' agreed on was basically, 'hope for the best, prepare for the worst.'  I listened, and quickly formulated the plan for my shelter. It started off as a kind of lark, but as the talk increased, I began work.  At first I felt a bit foolish, buying into all this 'end of the world as we know it' stuff, but then I had always meant to do something in the basement, to make riding out twisters a bit more comfortable, if I had to take shelter. Besides it wasn't as if any funds I spent would go to waste, I could always eat the extra food I bought.

Down in the basement there was a room , about the size of a large bedroom. I've no idea what it's original purpose was, but I thought it would be a perfect place to start. 

In one corner, where a drain was in the floor,  I constructed a type of bathroom. I'm not a plummer, so it was very - rural.  A five gallon bucket, with a pool noodle fitted about it's rim to serve a dual purpose; to hold the plastic bags for waste in place, and to make sitting a bit more comfortable. Liquid of course could be emptied down the drain, but the solid, well that was another matter. I bought two large plastic bins with snug lids to hold the filled bags, until they could be disposed of outside, what would be my home for a few weeks, I supposed. That is if the unimaginable did happen. Within easy reach of my 'commode', I placed a small bookcase to hold the toilet paper, and toiletries I might need, along with two wash clothes and several towels.  On top of that sat a large basin. I might have to do without bathing or showers for a bit, but that didn't mean I couldn't wash.  The 'restroom' was curtained off from the living quarters. Not for any need of privacy, I just disliked the idea of looking at where I did my business while eating.

The living quarters were equally basic, a card table and folding chairs, a cot for sleeping.  Why I felt the need for multiple chairs is beyond me. It was irrational, but for some reason I found it soothing.  Just like the photo albums and framed pictures I brought down. Not vital for survival, but soothing. 

It wasn't until  the emergency shelter list had been announced, did the general populace start taking heed. Some cried, some prayed, some panicked, and some went looting.  Stores bereft of supplies closed their doors. Streets were quickly jammed with traffic, as people tried to flee to 'safer' areas.  Only no one seemed to know where that really was. All talk centered around the asteroid that was hurtling towards us, and how one might survive it.  We were told that something called an electromagnetic field might take down the power grids, so I tried to take that into account. Batteries only last so long, even sitting on a shelf, and sooner or later you need to recharge cell phones, and laptops. Without a special generator or electricity good luck with that.  Still light to see by would be nice. 

When I wasn't working on the shelter, I was making list after list on things I would need and then revising them.  If things did go down, I knew once I had thrown the bolt on the door, there could be no last minute dash to retrieve anything. Seconds would count.  I did my homework, checked to see what I already had, and went to the hardware store, camping section. One indoor camp stove, a box of sterno, and two Coleman lamps later, I was practically frantic to get home. People were acting quite insane.  Snatching and grabbing things almost at random it seemed. Physically fighting over the last sleeping bag.  Some guy was out in the parking lot telling folks to 'repent! The end is near!", while someone pushed an old man down and took a case of water he was carrying.   I didn't dare imagine the nightmare in grocery stores, as folks fought over the last package of whatever. All because they refused to plan ahead - just a bit. As this was shortly after the emergency shelters were announced, I could only see it getting worse.

I did something I never thought I'd feel the need to do, I installed a deadbolt on the inside of the basement door, and started keeping the ones on the front and back door locked. Folks get scared and there's no telling what they might do. 

The day it happened, I was quite satisfied with my little hidey hole.   I had my 'kitchen/dining/pantry' area, where two walls were entirely covered with floor to ceiling shelves,one was filled with tins of food from soups to nuts, and packages of crackers, chips, cookies and such all residing within airtight containers, to help guard against sharing with uninvited critters. Hanging from hooks on the side of the shelves I had not one but two can openers, in case I should somehow loose  or break one. I also had pot holders hanging there.  On the lower shelves sat water divided into 2 basic groups; drinking, these were more of the hand held bottle variety,  and large gallons which were for washing and cooking. The other set of shelves held mostly inedible items; soap, both hand and dish,matches and lighters, candles, first aid kit, various other items, and my clothes.

On the adjacent wall was my makeshift counter, really just plywood slung across two sawhorses. Above it hung a picturesque calendar and on it proudly sat the camp stove, an old fashioned tea pot, and a lantern. A spare coffee cup did duty to hold my silverware and cooking utensils, the extra space allowed me plenty of room to prepare meals, such as they were.  Below was stored the extra sterno, a dishrack, dishpan, a skillet,  a saucepan and a fire extinguisher.  In the center of this area sat the card table, complete with table cloth, surrounded by the four chairs, one graced with a cushion. 

On the far side was my cot, made a little more comfortable with a duvet, and pillows. Next to it was a small end table, where the other lantern sat, along with a small hand-cranked radio, and an old fashioned windup clock. Between the end table and shelves I had placed my rocker.  An unnecessary creature comfort to be sure, but still I thought a nice touch.  

From childhood I had been taught you needed three things to survive: food, clothing, and shelter, but I knew of a fourth thing - something to advert boredom and help keep you sain. Towards this end, I had also laid in a supply of a few new novels to read, crossword and puzzle books, a couple of jigsaws, a deck of cards, and small assortment of games ( Rubik's cube, a handheld pinball game, and the like), as well as several pads of paper, with assorted pens, pencils and a box of crayons, anything I thought might distract me for a bit.  

I was ready, more than ready, but as I said no matter how prepared you think you are it still boils down to a game of snatch and grab in the end.  When the sirens went off and the emergency broadcast came over the TV  advising all to take cover now, impact was expected within the next hour, I had been quietly working at my computer, blissfully unaware. At the siren's scream I went and flipped on the TV, and stuck my head out the door to see what was happening. It seems I heard the broadcaster and saw chaos erupt at the same time. Neighbors frantically tossing belongings into their cars. Tearful children totally confused by the anxious flurry of activity. Orders being barked at seemingly no one in particular, as mothers frantically rounded up their children and counted heads. Two cars collided in their hurry to leave.

I closed my door and shot the deadbolt into place, then locked it for extra measure. I went back to my room and shut the computer down, while gathering up my purse, tossing in my reading glasses, and keys out of habit. I picked up the bottle of soda I had been drinking and hurriedly recapped it, placing that in my bag also. I scooped up my journal with one hand, while changing from slippers to shoes. The slippers being tossed along with everything else into my bag, as I grab up the flashlight from my desk.  Crossing the living room,I clicked the TV off and unplug it,  snagged up my latest crochet project, cramming it  into the bag I kept it in. A quick glance around the room, on an impulse I grab the music box that had been my mother's, as well as her Bible. I'm striding past the bathroom, heading to the basement, when I spin and dart in. Quickly now- I'm losing time -toothbrush, paste, comb, I grab my partials and the glue for them, and sweep the floss into my purse. Down the hall, through the kitchen. Pause just long enough  to make sure the back door is locked and deadbolted. Another quick glance around, as my hand twists the door knob leading to the basement - darkness suddenly envelopes everything. Darkness where only seconds before bright sunlight had filled the room. Through the window I can see a large shadow slowly eating up all the light. I pull the door open and shut it almost before I'm through, again pausing just long enough to shoot the deadbolt into place. I try to turn on the light, but nothing happens. I flick on my flashlight and continue down the stairs and into my area.  Once inside, I lay everything on the table, then close and lock the door, in double quick haste. Suddenly time seemed to stand still as I moved from door to rocker, picking up the small radio and turning it on. Since I had taken a few minutes every day to crank it it didn't take long to discover every station was playing static.  

I started gently rocking and thinking of those folks outside. How they were just running in circles really. Snatching and grabbing things on impulse, most of which they really didn't need. I had seen the neighbors across the street trying to fit a big screen TV into the trunk of their car. Really? Of what use would that be, without any power?  It wouldn't protect you from the weather, and you sure couldn't eat it.   I looked at the table, where salt and pepper shakers sat, with the pile of 'impulse' and last minute grabs I had done.  I who had planned and made lists, that included every need imaginable, including condiments,so I could simply stroll down here to whatever safety it offered, still ended up snatching and grabbing in the end. 

 Maybe that's all life really is, a giant game of snatch and grab whatever you can from it.