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“She volunteers at Portland’s teaching hospital,” explained Stella. “Wants to be a surgeon.”
Imani’s brows lifted like the wings of an onyx butterfly. “Smart girl.”
Stella nodded agreement before she ducked into the boutique to join Jenny and Karen as they ripped bandages.
“Y’all be quick if you’re going down there,” said Jenny. “Stuff has been fallin’.”
Karen nodded at the women. “Yes, something fell from the roof not long ago.” Pots of candles were lit around her and Jenny to aid the wan light trickling in through the cracked outside windows.
Mercury caught the oddly nostalgic Christmas scents of pine and cinnamon from the candles. “We’ll be fast.”
Side by side, Mercury and Imani hurried down the wide hallway. When they got to the entrance to the restaurant, Mercury peeked inside and shivered as the cold air from outside swirled in through a wall of broken windows. “Hey, help me close these doors. Later we can come back and find something to block those open windows.”
The two women struggled with the thick, wooden double restaurant doors that hung off-kilter, but managed to close them before they continued down the hallway. The farther they got from the foyer, the more debris cluttered the floor. They stayed close together as they picked their way quickly around fallen timbers and broken drywall.
“This is it,” said Imani. “I forgot my toothbrush and had to buy one here the first night.” She paused and wiped a hand across her face. “It seems like forever ago.” Shoulders bowed, Imani led the way into the little convenience store.
“Hey, here are some baskets and more pots of candles.” Mercury headed to a stack of red and white checkered baskets that had been stacked beside the opening to the store but had spilled across the wooden floor. “Can you see if there are any lighters by the register?”
“Got ’em,” said Imani as she grabbed a handful and brought them to Mercury. They each lit one and put the rest in a basket. Then, working quickly, Imani and Mercury piled everything they thought could be of use in the baskets.
“It’s like we’re in one of those zombie movies,” said Mercury. “You know, where the people go into empty stores and just take whatever they want. I’d imagined it to be a lot more satisfying than it is.”
“Probably would be if this was a jewelry store,” said Imani.
“Or a lovely, chic little clothing boutique.”
Imani swept a whole row of Advil bottles into a basket. “Girl, please. Did you see those clothes in that store that they call a boutique down the hall?”
“I think it’s called lumberjack chic.” Mercury tiptoed carefully around the shattered glass door of a dark cooler and loaded a basket full of bottled water and Gatorade.
Imani snorted. “I think it’s called ugly.”
Mercury barked a little laugh. Imani met her eyes, a smile perched on the corners of her full lips—and then her smile collapsed. “How can I be making jokes? My babies could be dead!”
Mercury went to her and pulled her into a tight hug. “You made a joke because you’re alive. That’s it. That’s the only answer I have. I don’t fucking know what else to say—or do—except that we have to keep on going. Keep on living. And there’s no point to that if we can’t joke or smile or eventually find some semblance of happiness.”
“But how?” Imani asked brokenly.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to try, and if I figure it out, you’ll be the first person I tell.”
