Renewal 2 - Echoes of the Breakdown Read Online Free PDF

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    “Ok, boys,” Dad said, in a tone that suggested we were going to Disney World, “Let’s get this car unloaded.” He opened the tailgate, and the back of the car was stuffed with cans and boxes of food. It looked like enough food for an army, but that might have been because it was food for the Army. We stacked the supplies between the tents while Dad quickly organized them, and Mom watched in amazement.
    “Where did you get all that?” she asked.
    “From the school. We tried to ask for it, but no one seemed to care, so we just started loading it up. Should be enough to keep us for a while.” Dad replied. “I guess those folks are shell shocked or something. They’re almost catatonic.”
    The new pile of food seemed to lift the weight from Mom’s shoulders. She started looking at the labels and talking about her meal plans. Apparently, the granola and oatmeal from Wal-Mart was never enough to kick start her Mom-motor.
    Dad added, “We may try to get another load, if we can. First, we need a safe place to put it.”
    Lucy spoke up. “Daddy, Bill was climbing in that tree. Maybe we can put the food up there.”
    “That’s a good idea, Sweetie, but I was thinking it might be better to put us up there, and the food in the ground.”
    “Eww! The food will get dirt and worms on it!” Lucy whined.
    “Worms are good protein, so that’s no problem, and I remember you were quite the little dirt eater when you were three.”
    “Daddy!”
    Dad laughed. He loved to get Lucy worked up into her frequent fits of outrage. Then he turned serious. “Listen, Lucy. Things are going to be different now. We’re going to have to work to get food, and some of it won’t seem all that great. Domino’s Pizza is going to be hard to come by.”
    Lucy put on her power pout and said, “Ok, Daddy.”
    Kirk, Arturo, and I finished getting the car unloaded, and sat down with our backs against the big trees around the campsite. It had only been hours, but we were gradually claiming certain trees as our own. In any case, I found myself thinking wistfully about the family collection of folding chairs, back at our house.
    Dad set the last huge can in place, and selected another one out of the stack. He spooned about a gallon of chili into a big aluminum camp pan and balanced the whole thing on both little stoves.
    “Lunch coming up,” Dad said, digging a box of Saltines out of Mom’s pack.
    While we waited for the chili, Jimmy entertained himself by singing songs from his favorite cartoons. I wish I could still remember them. We all leaned back and enjoyed a show that would have felt tiresome and stupid only a few days before, but now it was a pure and valuable way to pass the time. At the time, it struck us as a truth that no matter how crazy life gets, it’s always a good time to sing. Then, it spurred the realization that all of our iPods and phones and computers and CD players were all fried. I wondered how long it would be before I could listen to music again.
    Dad and Arturo were huddled up with Mom, on the other side of the tents, having one of those adult conversations that were too sensitive for young ears, but that was fine. We had little Jimmy. Tommy jumped up in the middle of the third song and decided to add his own strange brand of interpretive dance to the show. Pretty soon, we were too busy laughing and pointing to worry about anything at all, especially when Jimmy started smacking us on the head, duck-duck-goose style. When he tapped us, we were supposed to join in. This worked fine for me and Lucy, but Kirk refused to play, and when he did, Jimmy stopped singing. He refused to sing anymore. Then we spent our time calling Kirk foul names for ruining a good show.
    I wasn’t tuned to notice at the time, but thinking back, I remember how odd it was that Francine, sitting on the far side of our camp circle, had not said a word since she got out of the car. She was not part of the adult huddle. In fact, she seemed