I slept amazingly well, in spite of the hard floor. I did, however, wake before the morning light. I had to pee so I quietly crept out the office door, into the hall, and to the bathroom. My flashlight revealed that all the toilet bowls had been flushed. “Shoot!” It couldn’t be helped. I peed, and tried to flush, with a modicum of success. When I made my way back to the office, Cissy was awake. She sat on the couch where she had slept-or not slept, as the case may be. Rocking back and forth, she quietly wept. “What am I going to do?”
I put my arms around her and prayed aloud, though I knew she did not have the same faith. “Lord Jesus, please provide answers for us. Show us what to do. Keep us safe. Amen.”
Cissy lived over an hour away by car, in the city, no less. This was not going to be easy for her. For me, I could head south, into ranch land, where most of the people had a sense of living off the land. In addition, most could defend themselves. I thought of The Walking Dead TV series and inwardly shuddered at the thought of Cissy walking home in fashionable shoes, with almost no food and only her purse to carry water. And here it begins. I knew that God would look after me, but I also knew that I prepared for this for a reason. There was nothing I could share with her that would make any difference. She could stay here, of course, but the food and water would run out in a matter of days. The toilets would be virtually unusable in short order.
I put on my tennis shoes, tied my snow boots to my get-home bag, tried on the pack, added my winter pack on top of it, picked up my two grocery bags, and stood there. I was ready to go but it was still too dark to leave. You have two packs. Yes! I emptied what I would need into the get-home pack and gave the rest to Cissy. There was a scarf, a pair of gloves, a hat, a pair of socks, and some hand warmers. She cried and hugged me, hard. I didn’t have anything she could use for shoes, though. Even if I had, I wear a size 6 on a fat day. She was at least a size 8, as most normal-sized women are.
A trickle of light began to appear through the windows. I strapped on Molly’s conceal carry case, tucked the flashlight strap around my wrist, and loaded back up with the pack and the two bags. I quickly ate my eggs, wondering if this is what the Israelites felt like, waiting for God to deliver them from Egypt at the first Passover.
By now, the others were awake. I hugged them goodbye, not knowing if I would ever see them again.