HOUSTON

 

 

On the first day we slept. Well, I stood guard for a while but then my mother relieved me and I joined the others for a much-needed deep sleep.

On the second day we played another version of “What’s in my bag,” although this version was really about counting up how much food and water we had left. A dark foreboding look crossed my mother’s face as she surveyed the stash, but she quickly replaced it with her it’s-going-to-be-all-right mask. From the look of things, we have a week left on what we’ve got. Mr. Cromwell tried to keep the kids busy with some card tricks, Doom did his “We’re all doomed!” shtick, and we played Uno for a super-squished chocolate bar KC found in a book she started reading. Of course, most of us were trying to let Jesse or Sarah win, but Nadia didn’t seem to get that telepathic memo because she ended up winning the tournament. She did seem to get the next telepathic memo we put out because she grabbed the bar, started unwrapping it before our disgusted eyes, then broke it in half and gave a piece to both Sarah and Jesse. She didn’t even take the tiniest piece for herself. KC looked suspicious at this, but I was impressed. I personally believe there’s a good person under all those layers of ego.

On the third day it snowed. It was all we could do to keep Jesse from running out of the tent to play in it. She just couldn’t believe it was dangerous to make snow angels or even a snowman. Mom had to explain to her over and over and over again that once the snow touched her skin it would melt and turn her into a zombie. Jesse still seemed to doubt this, but she grudgingly listened and stayed in the tent. As soon as it stopped snowing, Mom had us go out and push/kick/feet-sweep as much snow as we could into the empty swimming pool. We couldn’t clear our section of the roof without snow shovels, but at least we were able to kick a few paths from the tent to the perimeter of the roof we were on so we could still keep lookout over those below. Mom also made us promise to never take our boots or raingear off. She needn’t have worried. We put on all the clothes we could—layers and layers of the stuff—until we reached the point we could barely fit in our waterproof pants and tops. We look like overstuffed shiny burritos, something that was not lost on KC when she said, “Why, Nadia, have you put on weight?”

Nadia doesn’t seem to care about KC’s jibes anymore; she just wants to be warm like the rest of us. It does mean we’re not able to move as freely as we once did, and the waterproof rubber makes a lot of rude and embarrassing noises when we do. Well, actually, it’s only embarrassing for the girls. Jesse and I find it quite funny. If we weren’t so tired from the lack of food and water, we’d find it impossible to sleep amid all the plastic shifting sounds we make.

On the fourth day, we lost Dorothy.