Her ankle was already better, so she could’ve handled the walk. Sela suspected that Barb was hiding, in her own way, the same way Ben was hiding. Everyone handled crises differently.
In the midst of the dull roar, she caught bits and pieces of conversations:
“I don’t have enough blood pressure meds.”
“I really didn’t think it would happen.”
And so on and so on. Panic, concern, curiosity—they were all around her, and inside her, though she held her fears close because she didn’t want to burden Carol and Olivia with them.
A woman at the next table toward the back was telling people that Mike Kilgore had gone to Ben Jernigan’s place and been met with a shotgun. Any lingering hope she’d had, that he’d miraculously come to help, faded away.
With the electricity off and no air-conditioning, and the lunchroom crowded with people, heat was quickly building to the uncomfortable level and so was the level of irritation.
From what she could hear, a couple of men were already attempting to take the lead, but so far there was nothing resembling organization in their methods. They were at the front of the room, arguing about food, security measures, rationing gasoline and propane. More men began to join them, some adding their opinions to the argument, others just moving close enough to listen.
The noise level grew, as did the feeling of panic in the air. Carol looked around and scowled, then said to Sela, “If someone else doesn’t step up, those butt-holes up there will end up running everything.”
Olivia said, “Why don’t you do it, Gran? You and Sela.”
Carol looked startled, then she glanced up at Sela with a speculative look on her face. “You should do it,” she said. “You’re the one who got this meeting organized, after all.”
Sela’s stomach clenched at the idea of dealing with this many people; she’d have to get up and talk in front of them, persuade the ones who had other ideas, and a whole bunch of other things that made her think about running. Horrified, she protested, “I don’t even know the majority of people here! Do you?”
Carol looked around, frowning. “Most of them,” she admitted. “After all, I’ve lived here all of my life. Some of the new people who’ve moved here, I don’t.”
“I think you should do it,” Olivia said to Carol. She made a face as she looked at the knot of arguing men. “They scare me. Do it, Gran, please?”
Carol said irritably, “You do know I don’t have much chance of being elected, don’t you?” even as she pushed her chair back and stood.
“Then why did you tell me to do it?” Sela demanded. “You know more of them than I do!”
“Don’t try to trip me up with logic.”
Sela followed her aunt as Carol slowly worked her way to the back of the room. It was a chore to get there. They had to ease past clusters of concerned people, muttering “excuse me” again and again as they made their way toward the men who were attempting—and failing—to lead. Everyone was watching the argument, some scowling, some looking alarmed as if they expected a fight to break out at any minute.
The air was close and hot, and evidently a lot of people hadn’t thought ahead to taking a bath while they still could. Some people were trying to open windows, maybe catch a late-afternoon breeze to clear the air.
This was the way it would be for a long time, she thought. Central air and heat had spoiled them; everyone would have to get used to existing in the real-world temperature again, enduring the heat, sitting close by the fire when winter came. The electricity hadn’t been off long enough yet for this to feel like anything more than an inconvenience. Reality would set in soon, as food supplies dwindled and stores didn’t reopen.
Finally they reached the group of men, but before Carol could interrupt them in her usual inimitable manner, there was a shout from the other end of the room and as one they all turned to look at the red-faced, harried-looking man who was coming toward them, progressing pretty much the way she and Carol had done, weaving around, tapping people on their shoulders, repeating “excuse me” until those in the way moved to the side as much as they could. It was close quarters in the lunchroom, and getting closer as more people trickled in.
“Who’s that?” she asked Carol in a low voice.
“I don’t know,” Carol replied, “but he evidently thinks