The Journal: Cracked Earth by Deborah D. Moore Read Free Book Online

dollars,
more than I’m used to spending, yet I thought it would be higher. I
swiped my debit card, anticipating they wouldn’t be good in the
all-too-near future. Once boxed and bagged, I needed a second cart
and one of the baggers to help me.
    I turned to leave, and made a decision.
    “Marie,” I said quietly, “before you go home
tonight, stock up on pet food for your two dogs and the cats, and
get your other shopping done, too.” When she asked why, I said
“Something has happened. You will find out tonight on the news.
Just do your shopping tonight, okay?”
    The parking lot looked like it should, but it
sure didn’t feel right. Maybe it was just me.
    The young man helping me looked at the totes.
“That’s a lot of turkeys,” he said.
    “Yeah, I have a big family reunion coming
up,” I said politely. Rude would be remembered, friendly would not,
and I don’t want to be remembered for these purchases when others
start getting hungry.
    I loaded the rest of the groceries and headed
for the exit. Another split decision. I made a left instead of a
right. I had three more stops to make, and if all went well, I’d be
on the road home in less than an hour. The first stop was the bank,
where I withdrew a thousand dollars from my savings account. I’d
done that before, so no one even blinked. Next stop was the bulk
food place that has some things which no one else does, and in
large quantities. I went right to the back and got a half wheel
each of parmesan, asiago, cheddar and American cheeses, then two
twenty-five pound bags of Basmati rice, Jason’s favorite. I didn’t
need anything else from there so it was a quick check out.
    The final stop was to top off the gas tank. I
was only a quarter-tank down, so that didn’t take any time at all
and I was back on the road. It only took forty minutes to get
through these three extra stops.
    When I got onto County Road 695, the straight
stretch to home, I pulled over. My hands were shaking and I dropped
the phone twice. I sent out a multiple text, to Soozie, Suzy,
Clark, Jane and Pam. Those close friends and my sister would
understand the agreed upon code: “Alas, Babylon!” and I added: “New
Madrid, 7.8”
    Then I called Jason. I asked him if he’d
heard what happened, then remembered that he doesn’t have a
television, and rarely listens to the radio. I said that I was on
my way home, and asked him to meet me at my house in forty
minutes.
    When I arrived, we watched the news in
stunned silence and viewed the aerial pictures of the area. Such
devastation! There is actually a crack in the Earth. All this
within a week of the damage on the East Coast. How will our country
deal with this?
    I’m still stunned that I was able to do that
last minute shopping without being caught up in a mob. All of the
meat is in coolers and the rest of the stuff can wait until
tomorrow before I put it away. Right now, I’m exhausted.
     
    * * *
     
    JOURNAL ENTRY: November 7
     
    I slept surprisingly well last night with no
dreams that I can remember. I love the lazy mornings now, when I
can casually stay in bed and ease myself awake. Then I looked at
the clock, 7:30a.m., and realized it was Wednesday! I need to be
over on Eagle Beach to give John his weekly massage in 30 minutes.
Since it’s only a seven mile drive it doesn’t take long, but I
haven’t loaded up my table yet, and I needed to hustle!
     
    * * *
     
    John met me at the door of the house that he
shares with a dozen other miners. I could smell the aroma of the
breakfast that Steve had cooked and my stomach gurgled. I set up my
massage table and got ready to work. The sounds of anxious, almost
frantic, newscasters coming from the TV in the other room caught my
attention and I peeked around the corner. All the guys were staring
at the big-screen TV. None of them had gone to bed yet. Usually the
night shift at the mine is brutal and once home they eat and go to
bed. Not this time. The horrors of yesterday’s quake