Starting Over: The Village of Los Angeles

2

Strange New World

   I left the house in a hurry, really worried about what I would find. As I realized my weakness going down the steps from the front entrance, I slowed down to let my legs keep up with my mind racing at light speed trying to figure out what I needed to do after going to Drake's house. Too many things popped into my mind to mention. I had to focus on one thing at a time.

   Suddenly, a shadow came over me in the bright sunlight and I was startled by it. I looked up and saw a vulture, not 10 feet above my head! I often had seen vultures drifting in the thermals where the sea breeze ran up against the coastal mountains, especially while hang gliding. Sometimes we soared on the same thermal. As if they enjoyed being with us as they searched for food with their keen sense of smell and eyesight. The ones I saw in the city fed on roadkill from the many cats and dogs and the occasional bird that unfortunately, committed suicide by chasing its own reflection in the shiny façades of many buildings and even our large windows overlooking the ocean.

   This was different. As though this vulture was circling me in anticipation of me dying very soon. From what I saw in the house, that thought wasn't too far-fetched. But as I looked out further, I saw many vultures circling all over the city. This was not normal. They probably came in from the Mojave Desert and coastal ranges because new food was everywhere here. Nature's undertaker. I soon appreciated what they were doing.

   I hit the button that opened our beautiful steel gate that showed passersby the quality of our construction company as well as our own gated enclosure or compound, if you like. There was a button on the outside that linked to the house intercom so that occasional visitors who came unannounced could be viewed and talk to whoever answered and be let in or not.

    You couldn't be too careful in 2033 Malibu. There were just too many marauders out there looking to take an easy buck. Cameras everywhere didn't seem to stem the tide of the poor becoming desperate or opportunistic.

   When the gate was only partway open, I rushed through it and hit the button to close it, as I passed and started uphill towards the Jones' place. The street was silent as far as I could see and nothing was out of place. Actually, quite normal for this time of the morning. But it was really quiet except for the melodies of songbirds as they flitted from tree to tree in the neighborhood and the sharp piercing calls of seagulls far below three miles away at the coast.

   What was really strange as I struggled up the sidewalk, really noticing the weakness in my normally, strong body, near fainting from the sun's heat and the exertion to push my legs forward, was that there was no background traffic sound that was usually quite evident if one listened. Nothing was apparently moving in the greater city except wildlife. Occasional dogs barking and, of course, an enhanced ability to hear songbirds and seagulls.

   When I passed the Rosenberg's gate, I looked in and saw nothing unusual. Jake was 83 and Martha was 81. They had both worked in the film industry and had inherited this place from Martha's father way back at the turn-of-the-century. They had hired a young immigrant woman doing things for them that they were having trouble doing alone, like getting their groceries.

    I made a mental note to check on them later, hopefully to find them alive. Thinking of them made me think of grandpa Ralph in the Central Valley. Was he still alive? So many things had to be left until later for now.

   I reached Derek's home and immediately coded in the correct code to open the gate. And then, hurried to the house without closing the gate. Something I learned to do religiously after that. I knocked on the front door. Nobody came to the door. I feared for the worst and tried the handle. It was locked.

    So, I headed around the house to the back and found a sliding glass door leading out to the pool was unlocked and I slipped inside. As I had done a thousand times before, I climbed the steps from that level to the one above leading to Derek's room, worried that I would find the worst.

   I opened the door with trepidation slowly and peeked in. Derek was lying in his bed on his side with his back to me. I moved to the bed and touched his shoulder lightly. He was warm and let out a slight groan. And then, he mumbled, "Is that you, Mom?"

   "No, it's me, Drake. Are you okay?"

   "Are you in a dream? I was dreaming you were here. Where have you been? I've been really sick and only this morning was having dreams of you coming to save me."

   "Are you delirious? I didn't come to save you. I came to see if you were alive. Called and you didn't answer."

   "I had ringing in my ears but I couldn't wake up enough from dreaming to answer. I was too heavy." Drake turned over and looked at me through squinting eyes. He wasn't fully awake yet.

   "Slow now, don't try to get up too fast. You'll get dizzy and fall over. It's been seven days since we got this thing and we are both dehydrated and in need of refueling.

   "First things, first. We have to check on your family and see if anyone else is alive or needs help. But I'm going to get you some water right away, because you'll need that to check on your folks and your sister. I didn't hear anything coming in the house, but they may be up walking around."

   Derek swung his feet off the bed and took off his sweat soaked pajamas while I got him some water and he drank from it slowly like I told him to do so that he wouldn't choke or throw it up. And then, I walked him into the shower where he, like I had done earlier, enjoyed the hot water pelting his skin and washing the grime and sweat off so that he could feel like a human again.

   I had Derek drink some more water, and then, walked him to his parents' bedroom and let him go in alone. Like me before, I heard him sobbing loudly and knew that they had both, like my parents, succumbed to the killer that stalked us all and killed quickly and silently without remorse.

   I pleaded with Derek to come with me and check on Angel. He was reluctant to pull away from his parents, but I assured him that there was nothing he could do to bring them back. We just had to see if Angel was alive. I helped him to her room and, once again, she was lying there in bed cold, just staring up into space like she was looking for something or someone to come and take her away, but didn't.

   I cried right along with Derek as we worked our way to the kitchen and found eggs and bacon in the refrigerator. We found some dry cereal and oatmeal and decided to make oatmeal because I knew our stomachs were not ready to eat a lot after being sick for so long. But the rumbling in my stomach told me I needed food.

    We also made a big pot of coffee to both hydrate and wake us up for what we had to do. From the freezer, got out some frozen orange juice and made a big container of that to drink, too.

    While eating, we discussed what to do first. Since our families hadn't been worried about death, we didn't remember any discussion about where anyone would want to be buried. On my phone, I did a search and got a listing of all of the funeral homes in the greater LA area. I made a list of the phone numbers of all of those that were within reasonable distance: about 40 within 20 miles.

   I had my cell phone with me and Derek retrieved his. I started from the bottom of the list of mortuaries and Derek started from the top. All we got after letting the phone ring for some time was a polite, "We are not in the office right now, please leave a message at the tone." Worse, when we got no answer at all or, "This phone is no longer in service."

   Finally, nearing the end of the list from both ends and nearly lunchtime, Derek got an answer from a harried sounding, "This is Hiram Berkowitz of Heavenly Rest Funeral Home in Alhambra. Can I help you?"

   Derek put on the speakerphone and said, "Our parents are dead. Can you give them a proper burial?"

   "You can get in line. I've got over 100 requests like yours. We have to use HAZMAT suits to do our work and we can't come and get the bodies. I had to bury my wife and brother-in-law already, myself, so we are short staffed." We could hear him breaking down on the phone.

   I stepped in and said, "That's okay, we'll bury them ourselves. You take care and take care of your own."

   "Thanks, I will," and he hung up.

   I saw the disappointment on Derek's face. While Derek wasn't, his parents were devout Baptists and funerals were a very big deal for black families and churches. "Should we call your Church in Watts?"

   "I don't know. But maybe they know of a funeral home or a way to bury them there. I'll call."

   Derek rummaged for a minute in his mother's things on the kitchen counter and found something from the church with the number on it. He made a call, but got only the "Please leave a message" message, so he did." We both knew that we wouldn't be getting any call back; miracles weren't happening. We would have to make our own.

   "Let's get busy and bury your folks next to your mother's garden. I know that it was planted because I saw new sprouts coming up the day before I got sick. Are you up to it?"

   "I don't know, but I can't think of anything else to do right now. I feel pretty weak but getting out there in the sun and drinking more fluids might get these muscles to work better. I hope the digging won't be too tough."

   "I wish we could get to the warehouse and bring back a backhoe or trencher, but I don't think that would be a good idea right now and like you said, physical work might make us feel better and get our minds off what's happened to us."

   "Dammit! I forgot I need to call Grandpa Ralph! I hope he's escaped it so far." I gave him a call with the speakerphone on.

   The phone rang about 10 times. Ralph Hutchins, a bit out of breath, finally answered.

   "Drake! Is that you? I've been calling almost every day and couldn't get your dad. What's going on? What little I get of the news is that almost everyone is dead? Is that right?"

   "Yes, Gramps, everyone here except Derek and me. And we just came out of it this morning after seven days of delirious fever and an inability to breathe. We can't even get anyone to bury them. That's what we are about to do."

   "At least you're alive. That's something. I'm about dead or getting there. That little woman that I hired, Alicia, what's her name, that's been so sweet and cute that I thought of marrying her, hasn't come around for four days now. Don't think she's going to come again, either."

   "If I see anyone come to the gate, I yell to them from the front porch. Come to think of it, nobody has for a few days now. I'll be needing some groceries soon. Alicia always brought them for me. But I can rely on the freezer and the garden for what I need right now. Thank goodness your dad put in that windmill and the solar panels so that I have power when the power goes out. So far it hasn't."

   "Gramps, we got a lot of work ahead of us today. But I'll check back with you every day and see how you're doing. We may even try to get out there in a bit when we get everything squared around here. That may take some time."

   "Yeah, some time. When times get tough, the tough get going. Getting a little choked up so I'll sign off." We could hear him choking and sobbing in the background. He was a tough old coot, but what we told him happened really got to him.

   We just stared at one another for a moment. Hoping against hope that that old man, our beloved, Gramps, could make it on his own at his age. We just didn't know. We were starting to struggle, too.

   We went downstairs to the workshop at the back of the garage and found two shovels. Started digging a single hole 9 feet by 6 feet alongside the garden that was in dire need of watering. So, we did that first.

    The digging went quite well because the volcanic light loam caused by millions of years of erosion of the Pacific Range had resulted in it building up on the bedrock near to the coast like this. That's why the back of the properties here were eroding away with rainstorms and earthquakes.

   Still, the sun was really low in the west when we finished the hole to 6 feet deep. The vultures that hovered over us all day had gone off to rest for the night, thankfully. We decided not to dress the bodies or do anything to protect them. We got a wheelbarrow from the workshop to make it easier to carry the bodies and placed them carefully, Joshua first, and then, Sharonda, and Angel, next to her.

    We filled in the graves quickly knowing that we would make grave markers later. We had been snacking and drinking to hydrate all day, but we were really hungry. Grabbed some food from the refrigerator and we headed down to my place for the night.

   After grilling some steaks and taking showers, we were in bed by 8 pm. It was 8 am when I opened my eyes the next morning. I felt much better than the day before, but I was very stiff from all the exertion a grave digging. And knowing that we had to do it again and so much more scared the hell out of me.

Copyright © Ronald W. Hull                                       

2/15/23