Journal 67

It’s still raining, storming. It has not been a good morning. I went to wash up and as I was walking down the hall, I heard wind and rain. At first, I thought a window had broken in one of the classrooms in the night. I wasn’t watching the floor; I stepped into a puddle and fell onto my butt. After regaining my dignity and looking around to see if anyone had seen me fall, I stood up and opened the door to the classroom. The windows weren’t broken. Someone had opened all the windows to let in the rain. Rain was pouring into the room and debris from the wind was everywhere. The room was a disaster. I closed the windows and stomped out to the pavilion where half of the guests staying in Bear Country were sleeping. I hadn’t slept well during the night. I was pissed. I was cold and wet from the rain. My tailbone was sore. I yelled at the top of my lungs. Who opened the windows? People probably thought I was insane. A bunch of sleepy eyes stared up at me. No one said anything but as I scanned the crowd, a couple of gang members from the geckos (green lizards or whatever) were laughing. I wasn’t amused. I told them to get out. They begged me not to throw them into the storm, so I had Sheriff Pete lock them in one of the utility closets. I’ll let them out later.

I knew it would happen. People are hungry and those who don’t have food are stealing from those who do. Pete and his deputies have been breaking up fights all morning. I don’t know how long this storm is going to last. We have all been hungry. It’s not a feeling I like. To help keep the peace and to keep the little ones from starving I have asked volunteers to cook up some potatoes. We have a surplus of potatoes. We also have dried pinto beans, but these take all day to cook. I hate pinto beans, but I think none of our guests is going to complain. It’s all Bear Country can spare.