Homebody

The commotion ended just after dawn on the eighth day.

It became so silent, it made Jane’s ears ring.

A week of explosions shook the Earth. Jane watched Los Angeles fall on TV before the grid collapsed and all of the lights went out for good. She opened her front door for the first time in three weeks to a world that would be unrecognizable.

Agoraphobic is what her therapist had diagnosed. Jane preferred the term “homebody”. She holed up in a house along the edge of the Mojave months before the planet went to hell, and suddenly her diagnosis felt more like an intuitive intervention. The world felt unsafe for Jane long before any of this. This simply felt like validation. All of the well-meaning souls who told her she was overreacting, that she would be fine, she just needed to get out more; had likely already been killed by the fragility of the human ego.

Stepping out into an abyss of crackling sand flanked by mountains, Jane’s heart began to pound. Getting out of the door was always the hardest part. She could feel beads of sweat beginning to form on her lip before her body even registered the sensation of heat.

“The mountains will protect me”, she thought to herself.

She stood on the five acres of land she had purchased for herself a year earlier and assessed her sparse surroundings. Jane had no idea what or who was left beyond the towers of smoke behind the mountains.

She had a choice to make. She had enough food to last her a few weeks, but after that, she knew everything would probably be looted and she would likely starve. It was unclear how long she would have access to water, so she needed to stock up until she could plan more long-term.

Her fight or flight was firing on all cylinders and her mind began to race through the logistics of her survival. She locked three different locks on her front door and turned to her old Diesel. The man she had bought it from had ironically called it an ‘apocalypse car’ because these old Diesel engines never stop running.

She stood frozen beside the car as she realized she had no way to protect herself. Jane was not a fan of weapons. She had witnessed the destruction of her country’s safety in her lifetime and the accessibility alone made her uneasy.

“Speak softly and carry a big stick”, she muttered as she grabbed a large petrified branch near the garage and placed it in the passenger seat.

What if the air quality is unbreathable near the blasts? All she had was a bandana.

The uncertainty began to fill her with a dread she knew all too well.

Her coping mechanism of choice was to hold onto the heart-shaped locket her grandmother gave her that she never took off. Her grandmother was a worrier too. Jane learned how to worry from her.

She got into the car, slammed the door, and started the engine before she could lose her nerve. Covering her nose and mouth with the bandana, Jane headed towards the smoke, her breathing already heavy. As she sped down the dirt roads, Jane felt something she hadn’t for a long time. Ready.

The hyper-vigilance that disrupted her previous life might just save her now. Her intrusive thoughts might serve as a warning, as preparation. Jane was not crazy, she was simply paying attention. Her fear was justified.

When she pulled up to the superstore, Jane was shocked to find that it sat untouched and operating normally. The pharmacist whose name she never remembered, ran toward the car and Jane slammed on the brakes. Smiling, the pharmacist motioned for her to roll down her window.

“Thank goodness I caught you before I left! Um. There was a mistake with your medication, Jane. Your dosage last month was far less than your normal dosage. The new pharmacist…he’s new, so….anyway are you alright?”

Confused, Jane mustered,

“I’m alright. How is everyone else okay?”

“Oh, you mean the fires or the earthquakes? I heard there were tremors for days out your way. Yeah, caused some power outages here, but they said the grid would recover. So, have you felt any disturbances in your mood or sleep?”

She was careful with her words, but it was clear from her face she just wanted to ask if Jane had been freaking the F out.

“Yes”, Jane said staring straight ahead.

“The dosage…it was a lot less.”

Jane grabbed the stapled paper bag from her hand and rolled up her window quickly. The pharmacist gave her a worried smile as she drove away.

The small amount of trust Jane had for herself and her thoughts drained from her body all at once. Her self-inflicted isolation was suddenly painted in a very different shade. She made her way back out into the far reaches of the Mojave desert and called a realtor that afternoon.