Not in My Plans

Not in My Plans

         The President had issued the order this morning citing his executive power as Commander-in-Chief. The United States had declared war on our stagnant economy and individual wastefulness. If we couldn't curb our flagrant misuse of the environment and its wondrous resources, government was stepping in to make decisions for us.

         Starting next Monday, everyone in the United States would be on "house arrest" for one week. Not only that, there would be no electricity and no telephone. House arrest meant staying on your own property, no driving your car, not even riding a bicycle. Everyone was to use the time to do something constructive for the environment.

         We were told to orderly stock supplies for one week only. Then things would be back to normal. Problems I thought of immediately were how to keep our food cold without a refrigerator and how to cook without the range. I thought about the people last winter who had been snowed-in without electricity for more than a week, and they probably didn't have time to prepare.

         We would need to fill lots of containers with water including the bathtubs to flush the toilets. Food would have to be nonperishable, canned or smoked, some fresh fruit like apples that would last, and lots of bottled water with some powdered drink mix for flavor, maybe even some powdered milk but that doesn't taste very good - pass on that. I would certainly miss my coffee. Maybe we could rig up something in the fireplace to heat water. We had lots of firewood.

         Luckily, it was only Jim and me. We were retired and lived alone. We prepared our list, and I headed out to the market. Every store was well-stocked, but they probably wouldn't stay that way long. I normally shopped for at least a week at a time so it wasn't unusual, just the kinds of items I bought. No eggs, no milk, no ice cream, but, surely, we could manage for a week, and we might even lose a couple of pounds!

         Then I began to think about what we could do that would be constructive to the environment. Well, that turned out to be pretty easy too. Every winter we always talked about putting in a garden next spring. Spring was here. All we needed was a prepared plot and plants. The coming week when we wouldn't be able to go out and eat or to movies or do other activities, we could devote our time to preparing a garden plot. In the evening we could read or play scrabble by lamplight.

         I had it all planned out, and it didn't seem so bad, even good maybe. The proof would be in the pudding as they say.

         Sunday, midnight, came. The refrigerator went off, no lights worked and it was deathly quiet. No traffic. Then I heard sirens. I guess some people were not complying. I wondered what was happening. No tv or internet to check. That made me a little nervous. It got quiet again and our week continued.

         It became very claustrophobic, not knowing what was going on outside our little area. We talked over the fence with our neighbors and they talked with their neighbors. That became our news service. I really missed e-mailing and phoning family and friends, more than I had thought I would.

         Apparently, there had been some looting of businesses by people who had not prepared. There were the homeless; I wondered what provisions had been made for them?

         I would just work on my garden plot and try not to think, but I wondered what businesses would do with no sales, and would the firetruck come if we had a fire, and what if someone tried to rob us? How would we notify the police? And hospitals -- what was happening in hospitals? The President must have made some exceptions!

         Then, while working on my garden, I heard glass break next door. I looked up to see two figures with stockings over their heads and tire irons in their hands going into my neighbors' backdoor. I started in to tell Jim then stopped. Jim is in a wheelchair, and his inability to act would be too frustrating to him. I had to do something on my own, and quickly.

         I thought of our paintball guns, certainly not lethal, but they could do a lot of damage at close range, and they looked real. I ran to the closet where we kept them and took mine out of its bag. I crept back out to the fence and carefully opened the gate. I realized I was voilating the President's orders, but this was an emergency. I went through our gate and very quietly opened my neighbors' gate. Their backdoor was less than five yards away. Immediately, I heard a shrill scream.

         Without thinking, I rushed through their backdoor and ran square into one of the burglars. We both jumped back in surprise, and, still not thinking, I aimed and shot. The impact knocked him down and red goo oozed down his chest. The second robber appeared, looked at his buddy, and bolted past me out the door.

         Making sure my neighbors were safe (Betty had only screamed when she had seen the robbers), we found some rope and securely tied up the paintball victim. He couldn't quite comprehend he hadn't really been shot.

         I got on my bike and rode until I found a police cruiser. They were working after all, and they told me the hospitals were open as usual, and the homeless had been taken care of. They drove me back and collected our would-be burglar.

         The rest of my week was non-eventful. My garden plot was ready for planting, and I was glad to get back to normal. Jim was shocked but proud when I told him about my escapade. It certainly was one week I'll never forget.


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