9. House Rules 

“Cycle Three. Hourly Report. May thirteenth. If anyone is listening I have the radiation levels. Currently we are at 16 roentgens per hour. It is still advisable to remain indoors and below. Next report ... ”

“Craig.” Burke grabbed the microphone and approached the airwaves conversation in his typical gruff manner. “Every fuckin’ day, every fuckin’ hour it’s advised to stay indoors. So, on the chance someone else is listening, why don’t you tell them what is a safe level to go out.”

“You did this to me last hour.” Craig replied.

“And you didn’t respond.”

“I know I didn’t respond.”

“Why?” Burke asked.

“Why should I?”

“Why not? I don’t think you know.”

“I know.”

“Then say.” Burke instigated.

“Fine.” Craig huffed, then rambled fast. “The human body can only withstand 100 roentgens an hour before getting sick. It is advisable that in order not to get sick, a person is exposed to no more than six or eight roentgens per day. The body can repair the radiation damage, if it is received over a long period of time in small does. Any dose over 350 can be lethal. So ... ” Craig sang out the word in a long breath. “Handing out some math trivia. If we are at 15 rads per hour. How many hours would Burke have to be exposed before Burke ... dies.”

“Asshole.” Burke shut off the radio.

“You deserved that,” I told Burke. “Why do you let him get to you?”

“Can’t he say anything else?” Burke asked.

“Familiarity breeds ... ”

Suddenly, surprising us all, Matty spoke up. “Twenty.”

Matty still wasn’t speaking more than a few words a day, so this was a breakthrough. Shocked at her speaking, but curious as to what she meant, I looked at her. “What honey? What was that?”

“The math trivia,” she said. “Twenty hours. If Burke goes outside twenty hours he will die.”

“Matty,” I wisped out so excited. “Oh my God, very good.”

Burke shook his head. “Swell.”

“Look at the bright side.” I told him. “You got her to speak.”

“To calculate my death.”

“Perhaps incentive works.” I shrugged.

Burke grumbled. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, and walked away, probably to find Dan, sit by him and try to have a conversation. Burke was well aware his presence rattled Dan, maybe that was the reason Burke sought Dan’s friendship so diligently.

I, on the other hand, sought something else.

Solace.

It’s hard to imagine, that with seven people in that basement area, a quiet corner would be a feasible scenario. It was. My basement looked like something from the depression era. Bed sheets and old curtains made up separation walls; they gave us sanctuary when needed.

Matty found herself not needing to hold onto my hip quite as much. Still, I could not be more than a few feet from her. Her and I sat in the first partitioned area by the cold cellar. A place we would eventually become very accustomed to calling ours.

A singer named Helen Reddy recorded a song in the 1970’s called, ‘Ruby Red Dress’. The telltale chorus blasted out, ‘Leave me alone. Please, leave me alone.” I had to explain this to everyone, and even sang a sample of the song, because they were curious as to why I hung an old red sweater on the entrance curtain to our area.

Basically, if the sweater was hanging for them to see, it meant, ‘Leave me alone’. The look on their faces all but said they thought I was ridiculous. But I needed to assure privacy, and the red sweater was my fair warning to them. If they entered the area while I sought peace, it meant war. It was as simple as that.

Understandably concessions would have to be made all the way around. Managing problems before they arose was one of the reasons I sought my privacy. I had some thinking to do.

Not that I didn’t expect it, but Burke added an odd flavor to the soup of people in the basement. Sort of the spice that stood out, one that after a while would blend in. Burke was a great guy. When he worked on something his presence was hardly noticeable. When Burke was restless, he grew loud. He hadn’t even been with us twenty-four hours, and he was outside firing off his shotgun. Not at anything, just firing it off. A few shots. He argued that it was a way for him to relieve tension, plus maybe it would draw out other survivors. I totally disagreed; telling him that if I heard someone firing a gun, the last thing I would do would emerge from my safe basement to see who was shooting. Burke probably sent the entire surviving members of my neighborhood into a frightened tizzy. Causing them to dig in deeper, because not only had a nuclear weapon gone off, but ground war had erupted as well.

Managing Burke within the current shelter state was not where my concern lay. It was with those who would soon join us. Pre-space management, chemistry management, and delegation of duties were my new primary focus. I envisioned myself capable of plotting out a plan of perfect order. What to do with whom. Where to put this person, or that. What tasks would I hand out? The ideal of a picture perfect, ‘bomb shelter harmony’ was farfetched, I wasn’t aiming for that. A bomb shelter with minimal chaos was my goal. With that thought, high hopes of achievement, and red sweater handing on the entrance curtain, I set forth on the task.

***

“What is ‘MH’?” Sam asked right after I showed him my agenda.

I had gathered him, Burke and Dan—the adults—around to listen to what I had laid out. It was Sam’s fourth question in all of five minutes and I hadn’t even begun to show them. His first three questions were inane. ‘You actually wrote it down?’ was his first one. Though to some it may not constitute a question. His second was, ‘Look at all these pages, how long did it take you’ and finally, ‘When did I find time to do it?’ Which, of course, I truly wanted to reply that I hadn’t a clue, seeing how I was extremely busy sitting in a bomb shelter.

“You know, Sam, if you let me just explain first,” I told him.

“I’m just asking.”

“You know what ... ” I closed the notebook “Forget it.”

Burke, who was sitting with us, winced in irritation. “Why don’t you just calm your ass down, and tell us.”

I retorted, “Why don’t you go outside and hang out, that way, Matty can deduct a few more hours from the ‘how long can Burke be outside before he dies’ list.”

“Sam.” Burke huffed out as if Sam would be able to do something about me.

“Can I?” Dan raised his hand. “I’d like to hear this. Go ahead, Jo.”

I was reluctant, because somehow I just didn’t sense that they cared all that much about my list. “MH is Mark’s house next door.”

Sam nodded. “So you want to put Burke, Hebba, Dan, Craig and Nicky, Tammy and her son over there?”

“Yes,” I answered. “He has a huge basement. We’re OK now, but when more people show up, we’ll be cramped. Why not use his house until we get everything geared up to head to Burke’s cabin. Split the people between two houses.”

“What happens if he comes home?” Sam asked.

Sometimes in life, people say things. Often without thought, never truly meaning the words they spoke. However, when Burke answered the question presented to me, by saying. “I never liked Mark much. I’ll kill him if you want.” I believed he meant that.

The corner of Sam’s mouth lifted in a partial smile when he glanced at Burke. “You are kidding, right?”

“Nope. Squatter’s rights.” Burke shrugged. “Survival of the fittest. We need his house. If I could have killed him all those times he yelled at me for parking in his driveway, I would have. But ... there were laws.”

Dan asked, “Was he that bad?”

“No.” I quickly answered. “And if he comes back, we leave. If he gets angry or violent. . .” I shifted my eyes to Burke. “Then we’ll let Burke handle it if needed.”

Sam shook his head in such disgust. “That’s not right, it’s the man’s house.”

I chuckled with sarcasm. “And this is coming from a man who’s been ripping him off? Just ... plan on him not coming back, OK?”

“What about the people on this list?” Burke asked. “You have all of us doing something to prepare for leaving. But ... do you think these people are coming?”

“Yes.” I answered with certainty.

“All of them?” Burke questioned further.

“Yes. Why?”

“Well, I don’t see ... ” Burke paused to try to remember. “What’s his name? Rod’s friend.”

“Denny.” I replied. “That’s because I really don’t think Denny made it.”

“But you think Mona did?”

“Mona stays. She could very easily be alive.”

“She was in Tulsa.” Burke argued. “What makes you more sure that she’s alive and Denny is not.”

“Because Denny works downtown. I know for a fact that downtown got hit.”

“Yeah, well, Mona is smack dab in the middle of missile silo ally.” Burke pushed my list to me. “She’s a goner.”

That was it. I grabbed and closed my notebook, then stood up. “Forget it. Why do I bother? Go back to discussing, whatever. I’m just trying to add a little order to the weeks ahead.” I flung open the curtain and stormed off into my partitioned area. Dejected that my idea wasn’t welcomed warmly, I plopped down on my sleeping bag. Somehow they must have forgotten that the basement wasn’t all that big, and that the curtains, though a wonderful sense of privacy, were not sound proof. I heard what they said.

“Why did you have to argue?” Sam asked.

“I wasn’t arguing.” Burke said. “I was questioning. You questioned.”

Dan spoke up. “She has a good idea. Like it or not. I know what she’s trying to get at. If you would have just ... listened.”

“I did listen.” Burke sounded offended. “That is why I questioned. Granted, I may have been a little hard. But, if Jo wants to make a list of who does what, then Jo should make it realistic. Is she wants order, she’s not going to get it by giving important jobs to people who just won’t be here. It’s been a week. With the exception of Craig, if they ain’t here, they ain’t coming.”

Burke was wrong. He was dead wrong. I wanted to stand up, throw open the dividing curtain and blast my loudest, ‘Fuck you, how can you say that!’

I had preached and preached for people to stay below for two weeks. Maybe they listened and were waiting out the time. Yes, there were some people I had given up on, that was because I knew of their circumstances when the bombs went off. But the others, they stood as good of a chance as anyone. Maybe it was gut instinct, or maybe it was pure unadulterated hope, whatever the case, I wasn’t giving up. I had eight people on that list, and my firm argument was, if I had circled three names already, there was no reason to believe I wouldn't circle the rest.