Chapter 6

“Damn!” I said, drawing in a shuddering breath. I shook my head, feeling an urge to pee. Only after another minute was I able to release my seat belt and step outside. My legs shook, balance a little uncertain. I caught a breath, steadied myself against the Expedition and moved to the rear hatch. Cloth bags and cardboard boxes of groceries were heaped in the back. I lifted out a picnic cooler packed with ice. All but the beer went into my deep freeze. Armloads followed, groceries and supplies soon piling up in the kitchen.

Donna surprised me again. A look of concentration settled on nearly transparent features and she started moving perishable items from bags to the fridge. Though her ghostly actions were unsettling, they also had a touching domestic quality.

I participated, but no effort was required to imagine her doing the same chore for her parents. A few times, I just stared, not quite believing she was still there, let alone able to lift and move solid objects onto shelves. For my part, I functioned in a kind of distracted unreality, bringing in case lots and cardboard boxes heaped with dry goods, emptying the Expedition. Each time I returned, Donna looked more transparent, even more ghostly. Still busy, she started arranging cans on pantry shelves. The movement of cans from flats to shelves slowed. Eventually, one large can wobbled halfway to a shelf. It dropped, bouncing on the floor. Inside my head I heard a muttered curse, then Donna simply vanished.:Sorry, Daniel,: her mental voice said.:Lost focus. I need to rest for a bit.:

I took over, stacking cans, arranging bags and boxes of dry goods. When sugar, flour, spices, rice, noodles and jars of spaghetti sauce were organized, all my grocery purchases barely filled half the pantry. Back in the kitchen, I cracked a can of beer. The Coors was still icy cold; and the chug of beer seemed necessary. I wandered into my computer room. After being in town for a few nights, there were systems that needed to be checked.

Battery banks were of prime importance, as were charge rates from the solar roof panels and the wind generator. I pulled up data on my PC. Nominal power was flowing. One set of batteries in the attic and another three substantial banks in the basement were fully charged. Satisfied, I tried to relax. It wasn’t possible. Somehow, the house seemed empty. Still sipping beer, I headed back into the kitchen. Silence greeted me in the pantry. “Donna?” I said aloud. When there was no answer, I flattened and stacked empty cardboard boxes and took them out to a backyard burn pile. Strangely feeling bereft, I returned, slumping in a kitchen chair, images of Donna floating about in my imagination.

“Don’t leave me,” I said aloud, taking a long pull at a beer.

A soft breath of wind brushed my neck. A hint of unusual, delicate perfume reached my nostrils. I jumped when icy fingers stroked an ear. I shivered and glanced around.