Day 5 was more of the same. Cold shower in the morning, wandering around the neighborhood during the day. You could start to see the strain getting to people. Fewer people were on the street, and those who were were just wandering aimlessly around, like me. Sometimes I’d see someone just crumble over and start crying. It was hard not to do the same when I saw them. I remember starting to get jealous of the families that still had members. I remember getting angry about it too. Why did some people get to keep their parents? Why was I left alone? I would even have been glad to have had my Mom at that point. Even through she would have been drunk out of her mind the whole time, or worse, frantically trying to find alcohol once she ran out.
I remember one time when Mom had run out of booze. She was a mean drunk, but she was worse sober. We were watching T.V. in the living room and I made some smart-ass remark to her and the next thing I knew I had been knocked to the ground by the force of her slap. We had to tell the school that I had slipped in the kitchen and hit the counter. Dad did what he always did, tried to calm her down and told me to keep out of her way. I really missed my Dad. I still miss my Dad a little even now. For all his faults he was a good father.
I remember around this time I started trying to find a way to get in contact with my relatives. We didn’t have a corded phone so there was no way to call anyone from my house. I went around to the neighbors to try and find someone who did have one. It didn’t take me very long. The Smiths, just a house down from Mrs. Spooner, had one they said I could use. I first tried calling my uncle Robbie since he only live two hours away. No answer at the house. Next was Aunt Karen, she lived one state over. Again no answer. I was rolling against the odds here. The only way this would work was if both of us had corded phones and all the phone lines were still working. Next on the list was Grandma. It rang twice before she picked up. I was so happy to hear her voice that I started crying. It took me a minute to compose myself enough to get across to her that it was her granddaughter Jane. She sounded so happy to hear from me. We talked about what had happened. Both her and Grandpa were still around, although Grandpa had gotten slightly more paranoid than he had been before. Grandma said she couldn’t get him to put his shotgun down, even when they went to bed.
Their situation was pretty much the same as ours. No power, no gas, they still had water. Their neighbors were banding together to help each other as best they could. I told her about our situation. She wanted me to come to their house, but I didn’t have a car or another way to get there. I don’t remember how long we talked for, but I remember trying my best to keep her on the phone as long as I could, even when we ran out of things to talk about. Eventually she had to go help Grandpa with something. We said our goodbyes and I told her the phone number of the Smiths so she could call them if she needed to get a hold of me. That was the last I ever talked to Grandma. I don’t know what happened to her, but I never saw or heard from her again.