What Comes After

There was an East Asian couple, like Mom, about twenty or so footsteps away from us, trying to get away from the crowd and peel themselves away from the angry mob. They didn't look like they were doing great, the woman had a clear limp, but they were wearing nicer clothes (the woman had one of those puffy jackets on), and a small group of guys noticed that they were trying to leave.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" One of the men in the group shouted.

"Home," the middle-aged man said with a strong accent as his wife stood by his side.

"Home," another man in that group sneered. "You've got a lot of food, don't you, if you're not staying here to protest these city council pigs."

"Let's go," the man said to his wife, but she wasn't moving very fast because of her limp and a third man grabbed her jacket.

"Mind if I borrow it?" he asked, though it was more like a threat, and the woman shoved him off. "Get your dirty paws off of me!"

The man shouted some expletives at her, and soon the shoving and tripping and jeering morphed into full on hitting and kicking them, saying things like: "Get out of our country" and "You don't deserve any food, you foreigners." There was blood everywhere, dripping across the floor and smearing their jeans and the couple was looking at us and the people around us for help, but no one did anything, and we all just stood there in fear of being attacked next, dumbfounded and wondering how everything got to this in just a couple of months. I know that there's always been a lot grumbling about rich East Asian, especially Chinese, families moving into the city in recent years, but I never expected in a million years that it'd explode into this ugliness, one that I was terrified was going to target Mom next.

Dad looked at us. "We've got to go. Now! While we still can."

We all hustled away, trying not to look into the couples' eyes, but Mira was stuck in place. I would be too, if it weren't the adrenaline rushing through my veins and the beating of my heart that threatened to blow my chest open. I grabbed Mira's hand and pulled her away even though she resisted a bit because we just had to go, and we couldn't risk helping and getting hurt, so we left them, bloodied and bruised and probably dead in the near future, just lying on the ground.

If there is some higher power, we're probably going to pay for not helping them since, like school taught me, being a bystander is about as bad as being the ones who did it. And in a way, I guess I did it by pulling Mira away instead of letting her maybe help or do something she wanted to do to stop this, and if they die, I wonder if it's my fault. But if Mira got hurt and died like they did when she tried breaking them apart, it would be my fault too. There was really no win-win situation here in the eyes of the world, wasn't there?

We had some spare tap water in a water pitcher, so we didn't need to go to the creek to gather water, but Dad said that we were doing that on Monday along with the tree cutting. Mom and Dad managed to get the fireplace working without burning down the house, and we began burning the wood that we had stored up, maybe one and a half month's worth since we have to run the fire every day, all day. Sometime in the afternoon, May said, "I need to use the bathroom."

"I'll go get a bucket," Dad said and left for the garage.

"A bucket," May said before sitting back down uncomfortably and fidgeting. "I think I'd rather wait for the water to come back."

"It's not coming back," Mom said. "And if you have an accident, I'm not cleaning it up."

Dad returned from the garage with a five-gallon bucket, and May looked at it. "How am I going to pee in this bucket?"

"You'll figure it out," Dad said.

"This is so disgusting."

"Well, that's life."

"Screw life."

"Screw life," Dad said, muttering under this breath. "Now go."

As May disappeared into the bathroom, complaining under her breath, I turned to Mom and Dad. "How are we, you know, going to get rid of it?"

"The garden?" Dad suggested. "For the pee."

"And for the other?"

"Maybe the old garbage can we still have rolled out there," Mom suggested. "If we put it in the garden, we'll probably contaminate the water supply, and we can't have that."

"What about the smell," Dad said. "It might be better to bury it."

"We can put the garbage can into the Hunters' yard," Mom replied. "I'm sure they won't mind. Burying it doesn't solve the water contamination problem and digging holes every time is too much work."

"I'm done," May said and exited the bathroom, holding the bucket gingerly in her hands. "That was dehumanizing."

"Without technology, we truly are animals," I wanted to say but didn't. In the afternoon, we ended up setting up the bathroom system, Mom pulling our garbage cans into the Hunters' house as Dad took out the rubber gloves and cleaning wipes, we had stored to clean the bucket every time a person used the bathroom. Also, to stave off bad habits, he taped the toilet shut with thin blue tape and a sign, so that we wouldn't inadvertently use it.

While Mom and Dad were working on setting up the greenbox to accommodate the fireplace and preparing seeds to be grown in the greenbox (we're germinating peas by the fireplace right now), I noticed that Mira was completely absent. And when I saw her, she was sitting in our room and staring at the wall.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"You know what's wrong," Mira replied. "I mean we just left them there."

"I know," I said. "But, you know, I guess we had to."

"We should've done something," she said. "I should've done something at least. I know Mom's only looking out for all of us, but I want more than that."

"I know but helping would've just got you hurt."

"Who cares about me?" she said loudly. "Care about the people who actually got hurt."

"I do, you know," I said. "It's really bad what happened to them, and I can't stop thinking about it, but there's nothing we can do."

"We could go to the hospital," she said. "Maybe they're there. And give them flowers, so that they know that someone is looking out for them."

"The only problem with your plan is what flowers?" I said. "With the whole ashfall."

"Oh," she said. "Maybe a card or something else to make them feel better."

"I guess, if you want to," I said. "It might be a little weird since they are complete strangers."

"Well, they might feel better knowing that a stranger actually cared about them."

"Maybe," I said. "The problem is Mom and Dad, you know."

"I'll just tell them that we are going to the hospital tomorrow just to scope out the situation. Maybe tell Mom that there might be dental work possible there since our teeth are probably cavity-filled."

"That sounds like a good plan," I said before almost saying that it reminded me of one of May's plans before remembering that Mira doesn't know about them, not yet anyways. "But, you know that you're lying to Mom and Dad?"

"I mean we are going to go and check out the hospital," she replied. "And it's not something serious. It's just handing a card."

I nodded and then she nodded and then we both stared at the bed sheets before I left the room. It's just weird to see Mira justify her lies like that because she's always preaching truth and openness. But I guess people change, and I guess she's changing even though she says that she's not.

During dinner, everyone talked a little over a couple of fireplace heated corn cans before Dad announced that we were finally moving into the living room to sleep tomorrow since the heaters are gone from the loss of natural gas, and that we should enjoy our last day of privacy.

To be honest, I had completely forgotten about the move to the living room. I don't know how I'm going to do it and get food to Charles with people living, breathing, and doing life all right next to the pantry. I thought I had more time to plan something out, but this earthquake killed everything, and without the food deliveries, Mom and Dad are probably going to be looking at the food situation super closely, so it's even more likely that I'm going to get caught.

My only chance could be with Mira. Maybe telling her my secret wasn't such a bad idea and she could cover me or keep watch for everyone else while I filled up my bag for Charles. I think that's what she'd want, to help someone in need. But there's something in me that's saying that this'll end in disaster because that's what happens when you trust someone with a secret.

Secrets are supposed to be for one, but they better make room for another person.