A Bad Burrito

Thursday, December 30, 2004

The death total had risen to nearly eighty thousand that morning in twelve countries. It was said that the wave had brought with it the force of two hundred atomic bombs, and with its impact, the earth had rocked on its axis. Never before had the modern world experienced such an enormous power surge. Collette wondered how far the earth had wobbled when the great fountains of the deep had burst open during the Great Flood.

But Indonesia, Thailand, Sri Lanka, India, and many others suffered cruelly, and the death count was astronomical for such an event in the present years. Already the United States had given thirty-five million in monetary aid to the already very poor countries in southeast Asia. Collette wrote Laurel to be sure that the rest of her family in Thailand was safe.

Meanwhile, on lighter notes, she had enjoyed a very pleasant afternoon at home with the family. OLeif had dropped her off late in the day before he went in to work at four. There had been shell pasta with meatballs and colored strips of pepper for dinner. Dad had been asking everyone at the dinner table if they had felt alright after eating dinner the night before. Apparently, he had had an ailment.

“My foot was numb today,” he was saying.

Mom laughed a little.

“I think the burrito I had last night was bad.”

They all laughed a little. The thought of Dad thinking his foot was numb from eating a burrito, was rather a comical one.

Then after dinner there was a chilling episode of “Midsommer Murders” after Collette had helped Carrie-Bri with selecting classes for February.

There was laundry to be done as the cool of the afternoon grew to dark. Already spring was coming and St. Louis hadn’t seen the end of December. The temperatures had risen to sixty by the time two-thirty came around.

Carrie-Bri had her hair tightly packed in curlers while she neatly and thoughtfully finished the last of her packing for New York. They would leave bright and early the next morning, Elizabeth and herself, at quarter to five, so Mom could drop them off to catch their plane. They were unofficially riding first class for one hundred dollars apiece, and they hoped to get on with little trouble, as their tickets were (supposedly) to be reserved for stewardesses only.

Then Rose showed Collette all the Burt’s Bees products she had purchased in time for New Year’s – including garden tomato soft oils and soaps. Then she went back to planting Pandas in her virtual zoo.

And Snuggles came over to Dad as he watched “The Terminal” on the couch, to habitually scratch his face against Dad’s chin stubble. He was a snuggly cat.

The death toll had risen to one hundred thousand by the afternoon and one hundred seventeen thousand by the end of the day, and the numbers continued to rise. Laurel believed that her family was alright, but she was not entirely certain yet. Cholera and typhus had become a concern with the enormous number of dead bodies. And surprisingly, not a single animal’s body had been located among the rubble. Grandma had even heard that an elephant had seen two children on the beach right before the wave hit, had lifted them onto his back with his trunk and had brought them to safety up north.