It was beautiful outside. Sunny and warm and Friday, and school had been cancelled for the day. I was going to enjoy every moment of it. Hopefully the sunshine would remain undisturbed by the usual clouds and wind. The bright sun beat down on my face, deceptively mild. Though it wasn’t noticeable, the thin air made the sun particularly potent, burning easily, but it felt wonderful not to be chilly for once. The milieu of the garden was peaceful, serene. The heady scent from the dozens of tiny white flowers that graced our blackberry bushes beleaguered my senses. The bushes wouldn’t have berries for a while yet, but the simple reminiscence of the berries seemed to fill my mouth with the sweet, fruity taste of summer. Distantly I heard my brother, Colin, calling from inside. I turned to enter the cold, dark house, grimacing. Too bad the sun couldn’t warm the inside like it had the outside. Too bad indoor climate control doesn’t work in this backwards country. I had just stepped in the house and was nearing Colin’s room when Dad burst in through the front door.
“Quick! Fill the bathtub with water! Go! I’ve got to get your mother and sister.”
The urgency in his voice hit me like the headlights from an oncoming car and, naturally, I ended up the deer, momentarily frozen. The moment passed, but as I hastily filled the tub only one coherent thought found its way through the maze of my brain to my mouth.
“Hot water or cold?”
“Either. It can’t matter that much right?” Colin replied, and I belatedly realized Dad had long since been gone. I settled on tepid water and let it run.
“Hey, Colin? What do you think the water’s for?” I asked, trying to cover the worry I heard in my voice by swishing the water in the tub around with my hand, like I needed to make sure it didn’t get too cold or something.
“Probably just in case the mobs do something to the water system.” He said in an airy tone, his eyebrows creasing slightly with worry not made known through his voice. There had been political problems before in La Paz, but nothing that had impeded our school year before. Unfortunately, they had apparently decided that now was an opportune time to stage a coup.
“Yeah… I hope Dad gets home soon; they couldn’t get in here, could they? I mean it’s not a very good wall, you can just get over it with no problem.”
“They probably wouldn’t even try, too lazy.” He acted sure of himself and I acted mollified, but I wasn’t. Normally I liked the wall that surrounded our house, but at times like this I wished it had a little glass on top, or barbed wire, or a hedge or something. Thankfully the school was just down the street so the parents should be fine. Right?
It seemed like days had passed before Mom, Dad, and my sister Katie finally got home. Turned out that Katie had been at a friend’s house a couple of blocks away and, since Dad had put the car in the garage to make sure it wouldn’t get set on fire by the mobs, they had had to walk to get her. Though there had been a slight incident involving the evasion of a mob they were fine, and Dad reassured me that the mobs were not going to get over our wall, even if it was smaller or less threatening the some of the other bulwarks around.
“Tomorrow we’ll go to Ketal and stock up on fresh food while we can. With all the blockades I’m sure it’s going to be a while before we get another chance.” Dad told us that night before we went to bed, “So get some rest.”
We stood in line. It was a long line. But who knew how long it would be before milk and eggs started coming into the country again. Fruits and vegetables were scarce too so Ketal, the supermarket, was only allowing so many items per family. So, even though everyone was hurrying here, and we were pretty far back in line, I was sure we would probably be able to get in and stock up on essentials.
“Hey guys!”
It was Dad and Colin back from uptown.
“Did you get the flour and rice?” Mom asked.
“Yeah, not much though, it should be enough for a few weeks anyway.”
“Why don’t you take our place” Mom suggested, “Annie, Katie and I can look around for other stores that might be open and selling.”
People were rushing about as we walked up the street. The scent of people and an overpoweringly acrid odor of burnt tires accompanied us as we maneuvered through traffic, burning my mouth and nose. Bits of chatter surfaced here and there, but there was none of the cacophony that usually flowed around the crowd. These people probably with the same idea we had, find any food possible, and then hurry home before someone incites a riot. Luck was with us then, because Mom managed to spot a small, local health foods store that was still open and not completely bereft of food. Not too full either; the line hadn’t reached the street yet. We didn’t find much there, just some garlic butter and quinoa granola, not exactly the staples of a diet, but it was something. We brought the groceries home, then went for another round at Ketal. Now suitably stocked on food we headed home hastily. The rest of the week passed in a swirl, playing in the giant garden, reading in our rooms and stepping out to forage for food occasionally. School was cancelled for the rest of the week. The sun was bright and the weather warm. The garden bloomed more glorious than ever. We couldn’t stay out in it too long though; it was too easy to get burned.
By the next Monday we were back in school, and my schoolmates and I all lamented the end to the impromptu holiday. The old president had been replaced by a new one, albeit rather forcefully. Business was all as usual, except when the school installed the new electronic gate, hired a guard, and covered the bars of the school fence with new, black painted, iron sheets. It was too bad they had to cover the bars over; the view into the school gardens had been so nice.
“Quick! Fill the bathtub with water! Go! I’ve got to get your mother and sister.”
The urgency in his voice hit me like the headlights from an oncoming car and, naturally, I ended up the deer, momentarily frozen. The moment passed, but as I hastily filled the tub only one coherent thought found its way through the maze of my brain to my mouth.
“Hot water or cold?”
“Either. It can’t matter that much right?” Colin replied, and I belatedly realized Dad had long since been gone. I settled on tepid water and let it run.
“Hey, Colin? What do you think the water’s for?” I asked, trying to cover the worry I heard in my voice by swishing the water in the tub around with my hand, like I needed to make sure it didn’t get too cold or something.
“Probably just in case the mobs do something to the water system.” He said in an airy tone, his eyebrows creasing slightly with worry not made known through his voice. There had been political problems before in La Paz, but nothing that had impeded our school year before. Unfortunately, they had apparently decided that now was an opportune time to stage a coup.
“Yeah… I hope Dad gets home soon; they couldn’t get in here, could they? I mean it’s not a very good wall, you can just get over it with no problem.”
“They probably wouldn’t even try, too lazy.” He acted sure of himself and I acted mollified, but I wasn’t. Normally I liked the wall that surrounded our house, but at times like this I wished it had a little glass on top, or barbed wire, or a hedge or something. Thankfully the school was just down the street so the parents should be fine. Right?
It seemed like days had passed before Mom, Dad, and my sister Katie finally got home. Turned out that Katie had been at a friend’s house a couple of blocks away and, since Dad had put the car in the garage to make sure it wouldn’t get set on fire by the mobs, they had had to walk to get her. Though there had been a slight incident involving the evasion of a mob they were fine, and Dad reassured me that the mobs were not going to get over our wall, even if it was smaller or less threatening the some of the other bulwarks around.
“Tomorrow we’ll go to Ketal and stock up on fresh food while we can. With all the blockades I’m sure it’s going to be a while before we get another chance.” Dad told us that night before we went to bed, “So get some rest.”
We stood in line. It was a long line. But who knew how long it would be before milk and eggs started coming into the country again. Fruits and vegetables were scarce too so Ketal, the supermarket, was only allowing so many items per family. So, even though everyone was hurrying here, and we were pretty far back in line, I was sure we would probably be able to get in and stock up on essentials.
“Hey guys!”
It was Dad and Colin back from uptown.
“Did you get the flour and rice?” Mom asked.
“Yeah, not much though, it should be enough for a few weeks anyway.”
“Why don’t you take our place” Mom suggested, “Annie, Katie and I can look around for other stores that might be open and selling.”
People were rushing about as we walked up the street. The scent of people and an overpoweringly acrid odor of burnt tires accompanied us as we maneuvered through traffic, burning my mouth and nose. Bits of chatter surfaced here and there, but there was none of the cacophony that usually flowed around the crowd. These people probably with the same idea we had, find any food possible, and then hurry home before someone incites a riot. Luck was with us then, because Mom managed to spot a small, local health foods store that was still open and not completely bereft of food. Not too full either; the line hadn’t reached the street yet. We didn’t find much there, just some garlic butter and quinoa granola, not exactly the staples of a diet, but it was something. We brought the groceries home, then went for another round at Ketal. Now suitably stocked on food we headed home hastily. The rest of the week passed in a swirl, playing in the giant garden, reading in our rooms and stepping out to forage for food occasionally. School was cancelled for the rest of the week. The sun was bright and the weather warm. The garden bloomed more glorious than ever. We couldn’t stay out in it too long though; it was too easy to get burned.
By the next Monday we were back in school, and my schoolmates and I all lamented the end to the impromptu holiday. The old president had been replaced by a new one, albeit rather forcefully. Business was all as usual, except when the school installed the new electronic gate, hired a guard, and covered the bars of the school fence with new, black painted, iron sheets. It was too bad they had to cover the bars over; the view into the school gardens had been so nice.
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