Ok. Time to be irrational.
This was a fear that I had long before I read this book. Cormac McCarthy just helped to flesh it out a little.
Don’t get me wrong--I have the usual fears: bugs, burglary, zombie apocalypse, demon possession. But there is something about the armageddon scenario that really gets under my skin and actually make my blood pressure rise. The thing that frightens me the most is being in that situation without the Old Man, and having to care for and protect my son in dangerous times. Its making my pulse race right now just writing about it.
Now, I should state here, that I have myriad skills to help me and my family survive an apocalypse--now I'm talking natural disaster or nuclear holocaust here. Not zombies or the 4 horsemen. In either of those situations, I figure I'm toast. Not that living in LA doesn’t make me a target for getting nuked, but that's beside the point. Anywho, I got me some "skeels." I can cook and preserve food, I can make clothing and nets and any kind of cloth shelter. I've got an extra layer of body fat that should get me though lean times. I know how to make yarn out of animal hair. I know a bit about healing with herbs and oils, like any good kitchen witch. Soon, I plan to learn how to brew beer--and wouldn't THAT be a skill? I can also play a musical instrument, and in a pinch, I could probably come up with a good story or two. In short, I've got enough going for me that I don't think I'd get kicked off the island.
The Old Man has skeels too--mostly in the manly man division--shooting guns, building shit, scaring off meanies. Honestly--its one of the reasons I married him. My hormones recognized the protector/provider when they caught their first whiff. He's also good at "up-cycling" or using junk to make other stuff. Luckily for me he only sits and thinks about it instead of actually bringing home stuff he finds on the street.
And were it just me, or just he and I, armageddon doesn't frighten me at all. Add Ben to the equation, and I am a blubbering mess. And take the Old Man OUT of the equation, and you might as well just dig a hole for me.
The though of having to protect Benji from others frightens me to the core. And of course, this is linked to his Autism. I worry so much that he will not be accepted/appreciated by his peers here in reality (foundless since he is #1 personality in his pre-school class and a charmer by all means measurable) and of course that worry can translate easily into this kind of survival scenario. How easily would he be accepted if sources were scarce? I've read enough books to know that the weak have a tough time of it--would he be interpreted as weak? Would I be able to keep him safe? Hell, I don't even know how to fire a gun. How threatening would I be--I mean, my smart mouth aside?
(I should also state that I can take this fear and translate it to a "Nazi occupation" fear as well--pretty similar really. I can see me and Ben in a line being yelled at by a Nazi, and Ben having a meltdown. ah the joys of studying history.)
But it makes sense. As a mother, this is your main job--protect your progeny. From the moment he was born, my hormones made the switch. He can't even cry without something inside of me snapping to attention.
Now the Old Man has tried to alleviate my fears more than once telling me it's a non-issue. He's got this all worked out you see. and I'm not kidding. IF anyone is prepared for disaster, it is my Old Man. He's told me what to do incase he isn't here, which he assures me isn't an issue. He's even worked out what to do in the case of a Zombie apocalypse. NOT KIDDING.
So perhaps my fears are unfounded. Or perhaps they are fed by his preparation for the worst.
So, I'll continue to keep this fear at bay by making sure the earthquake kit is in good condition, not watching movies where any kid is in danger, and never watch The Road or Schindler's List again. EVER.
oh, and suck it Cormac.
