a large filter for use in the kitchen. After the water had finished its purifying, slow dribble, Daniel poured half of the clean water into two cut-down pails, each of which sat inside the separate basins of the stainless steel kitchen sink. The other half was reserved as drinking water in the cool root cellar.
His father, Allen Moore, had assembled the filter, after the initial chaos that followed the terrorist attacks had died down a bit. Two buckets with lids firmly in place were joined atop one other, a ceramic cartridge and length of clear plastic tubing circumventing them. All Daniel had to do was pour rain water into the top bucket of the filter to create a pressure siphon, which would then pull the water through the cartridge. Once the rain water bucket was emptied, it was wiped out with a bleach-dampened rag and sat on the floor beside the chair where the filter sat. The bottom bucket of the ad-hoc filter had a small plastic spigot that would refill the, now cleaned, rain water bucket. Daniel diligently changed the cartridge out every year, borrowing from the vast supply of them left behind by his father.
Dinners were always the largest meals at the Moore household. It was an effort to clear out what little food may have been placed inside the ‘cold hole’ during the past days. Daniel would much rather see the food eaten with a few complaints than to watch it spoil. The mood was light as the Moore’s sat laughing over an unusually diverse dinner of reheated and cold foods.
After everyone had been fed, Daniel lit two lanterns, thankful that the new wicks had gotten enough time to soak in the oil. Thus allowing them to burn brightly while only giving off the thinnest tendrils of oily, black smoke, which muddled and smudged the interior of the lamp’s glass chimneys. Once he had started using the lanterns almost exclusively, it did not take long to realize that the longer you allowed the swirled soot to build-up, the dimmer the lamp became and the harder it was to clean off. It had taken him quite a while to find the perfect-sized flame that cut right between the line of conservation of oil and brightness of illumination. The lower the flame, the dirtier the lamp burned, especially when using improvised wicks. To clean the glass chimneys, Daniel used wadded newspaper in combination with a solution made up of 2 cups water, ¼ cup vinegar, and two shots of moonshine.
He left one lantern by the sink for Corinne to have enough light to wash the shallow pot, frying pan, plastic bowls, and silverware that had been sullied by cooking the day’s meals. He carried the other lantern, along with Rebecca, into the pink bedroom. Daniel placed the comforting light source on the dresser, to the left of the door, so he could gently lay Rebecca down on her bed using both of his arms.
“I want my blankie,” Rebecca demanded tiredly.
“Where is it, Bugs?” Daniel groaned, as he spun the crank on a LED lantern that served as her nightlight.
“I think downstairs,” she answered, very little confidence backing it up. As she scooted over onto her pillow, which had a yellow-haired maiden frozen in a toothy smile on it, she yawned while trying to ask, “Can you take my pants off?”
“Sure can. It’s really getting hot in here, huh?” Daniel asked the obvious question with a goofy expression. Immediately wondering why he dumbed-down the way he spoke when talking to his own child. He reaffirmed his desire to start speaking plainly, for Rebecca’s benefit, before pulling on both legs of her faded-pink, cotton pants.
Now free of the sweltering clothing, of which she would not have put on in the first place if anyone would have just listened to her, Rebecca smiled. “Are we going to sleep in the basement again, Daddy?” she speculated excitedly, her memory as sharp as ever.
“I’ll ask your mom if we can move our beds down soon. How’s that sound?”
“You will ask me what?” Corinne inquired cautiously, poking her head into the small room.
“Daddy said we should move down to the basement again!” Rebecca answered brightly, and quite loudly.
“Yeah, I guess we should,” Corrine relinquished. “I could barely sleep last night. Goodnight, Rebecca. I don’t want to be woken up tonight. You hear me?” She then moved past the door looking lost in thought. The lantern she carried danced light across the pale skin of her