"I anticipate I will execute a local emergency order tomorrow putting into effect a 'stay home, stay safe' approach to fighting the spread of the disease. This will limit mass gatherings, expand business closures and restrict nonessential travel. These drastic measures are needed in part because there are still businesses, venues and individuals who are not taking this virus seriously. The intent of the declaration is, again, to reduce, as much as possible, any opportunity for close contact over these next few critical weeks."
Mia turned up the radio as she parked the car in front of a grocery store. The firm, but calm voice of the city's emergency preparedness director was out of harmony with the hectic scene around her. The parking lot was packed. Frightened people frantically stuffed bags from overflowing carts into their vehicles. An open air preacher standing in front of the store shouted at the passing customers about the end of time. Things were not looking up like she had hoped. Things were looking bad. The anxiety Mia had swallowed earlier was swelling inside of her again. Something serious was happening. She turned the radio back down, but left the car running.
"Stay here, boy," she told Colonel, as she swung her door open and climbed out of the car. After grabbing a cart from a nearby corral, Mia rushed across the parking lot. When she was close to the door, the street preacher locked eyes with her and pointed at her with his sign that read: 'PREPARE TO MEET THY GOD!'
"For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each of us may receive what is due us for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad," the red-faced evangelist exclaimed. His tone induced flashbacks of her father's lengthy Sunday sermons and the chiding lectures she and Rod used to ignore while doodling in the church's hymn books with their crayons. "What we are is plain to God, and I hope it is also plain to your conscience."
Mia turned her head to avoid his gaze and hurried past him. Inside the store was even more chaotic than outside. People of all ages pushed and shoved their way down the aisles, filling their carts to the brim with toilet paper and canned food. Mia was momentarily frozen in place. The people in front of her seemed to be moving in slow motion. She watched with morbid captivation as they exhibited their primal instinct for self-preservation. A large middle-aged man roared at a frail grey-haired woman, as she clung to a child, demanding her to put more items in their cart. A slender teen boy grabbed a case of bottled water from an elderly woman and held it above her head, taunting her with a sick grin on his face. Suddenly, someone's cart rammed into Mia's heels. She let out a yelp, more so from being startled, than from pain.
"Move out of the way, bitch!" A blonde woman cursed as she pushed by Mia. A younger blonde woman was right behind her. The younger woman gave Mia a brief apologetic smile before following her still cursing companion. Mia wanted to turn and run out the door, but she thought back to her brother's bare cabinets. If the city were to be shut down like they were saying on the radio, they would have no food. She swallowed her anxiety for the second time that morning and marched deeper into the store. The cluttered aisles were hard to navigate, but she slowly pushed through the mass of panicking people. The shelves were nearly bare, so she grabbed whatever she could get. A lone can of black beans, half a pound of brown rice, two cans of tuna and a gallon of water. It wasn't much. She was going to have to try to go to another store to get more. Mia waited in line for what felt like an eternity to pay for the few items she had. The wait gave her time to think of a game plan. She decided to drive the back roads and find a smaller, out of the way store that would hopefully still have food on the shelves. When it was her turn at the register, Mia put her items on the conveyor belt. She watched as a pale, overworked cashier quickly rang up her items.
After paying, she grabbed her bag and headed out the door. The red-faced preacher that had reminded her so much of her father was still outside crying the word of his God to the frenzied people scurrying around the shopping center. Mia stood and listened to him for a minute. The familiar cadence of his voice was oddly comforting to her. It sounded like a song she had heard sung by many southern Baptist preachers. She barely heard what he was saying, but the hypnotic rise and fall of his words were like an incantation. They transported her back in time. For a moment, she was back in the little white church in the Carolina hills. She could feel the starchy fabric of the dresses her mother used to make her wear. The faint musty smell of mildew tickled her nose. The street preacher's voice morphed into her father's, and she could feel it echo off the wood paneled walls of the small church house. Most of her childhood had been spent at that church, but it had been years since she had been back there. Mia wasn't sure if she had lost her faith, or if she ever had any in the first place. Truth was, she didn't spend much time thinking about it. When she was little, she was expected to be in the front pew with her mother and brother every Sunday. She was to sit pretty and listen to her father preach the good word. Like most children, she wasn't able to comprehend the abstract concept of salvation versus damnation, but she was content to quietly listen to the song-like rhythm of her father's voice as he gave his sermon. She would color with her crayons and whisper to her brother to ask if it was communion day. She liked it when they got grape juice and crackers. However, as she reached her teen years, Mia started skipping Sunday services, much to the dismay of her father, and it created a rift in their relationship.
Mia shook the memory from her head and came back to reality. She quickly walked to the end of the parking lot and climbed into the Mustang. Colonel greeted her with a tail wag. Mia patted the pup's head before backing out of the parking space and pulling onto the road. She picked a random back road and started driving. After a while, she came across a self-serve car wash. The next item on Rod's to do list was to wash the car. She shrugged to herself and figured she might as well finish her errands. It would give time for the crowds to die down.
She pulled into the middle stall of the car wash and dug for change in the ashtray. When she found the coins she needed, she rolled the windows up and turned off the car. She and Colonel hopped out. The car wash was nearly empty, except for a baby blue pickup truck a couple stalls down. Mia could only hear one voice, but assumed there were at least two other people at the car wash, unless the redneck she heard talking was just as crazy as he was loud. Mia decided to keep to herself and was quietly soaping up the car, but before long, she felt eyes on her. A man with short brown hair and cut off sleeves had taken note of her when he was throwing a bag in the dumpster. Mia caught his gaze and he looked away quickly. Mia kept watching him as he pulled a cigarette from his shirt pocket and lit it. He leaned against the dumpster as he brought it to his lips. She wondered if he was the one she had heard talking.
"Boy, it's hotter than blue blazes out here, baby brother. Hurry yer ass up." She could hear another redneck yelling. Shy Redneck rolled his eyes at Loud Redneck. Mia snorted to herself when she got her answer. Shy Redneck must have heard her, because he scowled as he walked by. Mia waved an apology to him with a wiggle of her fingers then continued scrubbing her brother's car. Colonel had found a shady spot on the cement and was enjoying the relief from the heat. The blue pickup roared to life and disappeared in a cloud of black exhaust before circling back around behind the stall Mia was in. A wolf whistle pierced her ears.
"Hey, Mustang Sally!" Loud Redneck yelled. Mia rolled her eyes but ignored him. She kept washing the car. "Hey, I can't find my puppy. I think he might a-went to that cheap motel across the road. Whatcha say we go rent us a room and look fer him?"
Mia finally looked up at the truck. She could see Shy Redneck looking out the passenger's side window ignoring his brother. Colonel got up from his spot in the shade and went to stand by Mia. He kept his eyes on the rednecks.
"No, thanks," Mia called back to Loud Redneck, hoping he would lose interest and leave her alone.
"C'mon, baby, yer so purdy."
Colonel let out a low growl.
"Well, you're loud, and you're pissin' my dog off. Why don't you beat it before you start pissin' me off too?" she suggested with more courage in her voice than she felt. Loud Redneck responded by turning off his truck and stepping out. Shy Redneck slowly followed suit, but he was eyeing his brother. Mia was immediately concerned. There was no one else around and these men were much bigger than she was. She quickly glanced around for something to defend herself with, but there was nothing nearby. Colonel's growl grew louder with each step the men took. When the men were about six feet away, a police car pulled into the car wash so fast that the tires squealed. Mia turned and met eyes with Rod. She was too relieved to question his sudden appearance. Rod's face was already cold, but when he saw his sister's scared expression and the two men closing in on her, his jaw clenched and his muscles tensed. Rod and Philip both got out of the car and walked toward Mia. Rod's hand hovered over his gun.
"These hicks botherin' you?" Rod asked his sister without taking his eyes off the men. In a few strides he moved to stand in front of her. Philip stood to her right and Colonel was on her left. Mia felt herself relax slightly behind her unexpected shield of protection.
"Nah, they were just leavin'," she responded, peaking around her brother. Shy Redneck had taken a few steps back, but Loud Redneck was standing his ground. An amused grin sat on his face.
"C'mon, Merle. Ain't worth it," Shy Redneck spoke gruffly. Mia made a mental note of Loud Redneck's name: Merle. She thought it was a fitting name for the man. The only Merle she knew was Merle Haggard, and this man certainly looked haggard. He had heavy bags under his eyes and dark stubble covered his chin. His skin and hair were wet with sweat. Mia could smell the booze on his breath even with the distance between them. She wondered if he had spent his morning nursing a hangover.
"Now, Officers, I don't want no trouble. I's just paying the little lady a compliment," Merle said smoothly. He winked at Mia.
"Well, she's not interested," Rod replied.
"She your bitch?" Merle asked. He stood up straight and put a hand on his hip. Mia felt her impatience building. She didn't care what Merle thought Rod's relation to her was, she just wanted him to leave. When Rod didn't answer, Merle raised his hands in surrender. "Guess we'll be on our way."
"I think that'd be best," Philip said.
"You change yer mind though, you know where to find me," Merle winked at Mia again before gesturing to the motel across the street. He and his brother sauntered back to their truck and disappeared again in another cloud of black exhaust.
When the blue pick up was gone, Mia realized how bizarre her brother's appearance had been. She narrowed her eyes at her brother, then looked to Philip. She had never met him before, but she had heard about him. The tall, middle-aged man stood with his weight on one foot and his hands on his hips. Philip's tense expression matched Rod's. Mia felt the familiar flutter of anxiousness in her chest. A million scenarios raced through her mind at once. Rod was never one to show his emotions, but Mia could read it in his face, something terrible had happened.