22 August 2024

7:00 pm

 

Oh, what a bittersweet moment to find my old journal, the memories of those horrible days. It must have been placed deep in one of the bags when David and I moved from Blue Vega all those years ago and I’d forgotten about it, putting it on the shelves with all the other books.

We left Devi’s resting place perhaps three years after he passed. David was four and grown very big and strong, and I’d become uncomfortable with some of the dealings between the Wetherbys and those odd people who came in Humvees. 

We settled in another small settlement that must be in southern Nevada and have been very happy here. I’ve been farming again and selling my herbs and vegetables to tradesmen passing through. 

No one has replaced Devi in my heart, although I suspect that will soon happen, for David’s wife, Felicia, has been in labor for nearly five hours, and I am very ready to hold a baby in my arms again.

 

11:30 pm

It’s a girl! She’s the loveliest creature in the world. She has the same black hair as her father, and the smoothest, softest mahogany bottom I’ve ever seen. And her lungs are quite healthy, as she’s already proven. Her legs are strong, nearly kicking her poor father in the belly as he tried to fasten a diaper around her waist. (How I miss disposable diapers! We were at least able to find enough for David over the years, but there are none left now.)

I do believe little Miss Zoë will be quite a handful, and I look forward to spending all my grandmotherly time teaching her everything I know. I just know she’s going to be smart and brave and confident. 

And I hope and pray that she’ll survive in this devastated world, and find a home and family of her own.

 

– from the diary of Mangala Kapoor