Fic for Slodwick's "Worst Case Scenario"
Sep. 7th, 2005 10:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valarltdI drew How to Survive an Earthquake.
Shake, rattle and roll
By Angel
Tremblors were a pretty common occurrence in San Diego. Even so, the one that woke Rick Simon from his napping on the couch--by dropping a book on his nose--seemed to be getting worse.
He was on his feet, throwing open the office door and clutching the door-frame before the pinball machine could register TILT or both eyes were completely open.
Books fell, drawers shook open, the file cabinets rocked and one tipped over. The little black and white TV fell over on its screen. The big plate window crumbled musically. After an eternity, everything quieted. Rick picked his way through the wreckage to the desk.
He tried the phone, clicking the receiver rest several times. A dial tone was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. He called home. Busy.
A.J. was probably calling Mom, he figured. The power was still on, so he unplugged the pinball machine to reset it. The bells were getting to him. The TV looked undamaged and he set it up.
“A 5.2 earthquake rocked the metro area just moments ago,” the perky weathergirlperson was saying, perkily. “Power is out in some areas of San Diego, and officials are advising people to stay where they are until the damage to roads can be assessed.”
The phone rang. “Simon and Simon investigations.” Rick did his best to sound professional. “This is Rick Simon. How can I help you?”
“Rick?” A.J.’s voice was strained, but not panicky. “Are you all right?”
“Of course. A bump on my nose from a falling book, but I’m fine. The TV is saying the roads are closed between here and home. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I was under the table. The Hole in the Water is on her side, and there’s some damage, but Marlowe’s fine too.”
“Mom?” Rick was assailed with visions of their mother, for all her spryness, being seriously hurt.
“She was turning off the gas. She had a leak. But she’s fine too.”
“Good. Look, I’m going to clean up the office and sleep here. The big window’s busted, and I don’t want anything stolen.”
“You’ll be okay. There’s some MREs and some bottled water in the bottom of the filing cabinet. I’ll come in tomorrow morning.”
“MREs.” Rick made a face. “Materials Resembling Edibles. Why didn’t you lay in some C-rations or backpack food?”
“Look, Rick, I’ll bring you a double Wonderburger tomorrow. Just stay safe tonight.”
Rick righted the filing cabinet and looked in the bottom drawer. Forty-two MRE Vs stared back, their labels taunting him with words like “ham loaf,” “beef slices in BBQ sauce” and “chicken a la king.” After all the spam in Nam, Rick would never willingly put anything marked “ham loaf” near his mouth again. A.J. had even stashed a couple pairs of athletic socks and sneakers in the drawer. Rick had wondered where that pair had gotten to.
His practical brother, always planning for disaster. They could live in the office for a week, longer if they only ate 2 meals a day, and walk out if they had to. If the kid was here right now, Rick was afraid he’d have to hug him stupid for thinking ahead so well.
He got to work, sorting out books and papers, and putting everything away. He swept up the glass, pleased that most of it had landed outside. He called the glazier, and got an early appointment.
It wasn’t too likely that there would be any clients, so he put up the “closed” sign and locked the door. Nothing else he could do. He watched the news. A 5.2 was really not much at all. Bored, he plugged the pinball machine back in and reset it before trying to beat his all time high score, ignoring the way the earth was still pitching under his feet.
There would be residual shakes in him, and aftershocks in the city for a while. He bounced the ball off the bumpers, trying for a triple. It was all just part of everyday life in southern California.
Shake, rattle and roll
By Angel
Tremblors were a pretty common occurrence in San Diego. Even so, the one that woke Rick Simon from his napping on the couch--by dropping a book on his nose--seemed to be getting worse.
He was on his feet, throwing open the office door and clutching the door-frame before the pinball machine could register TILT or both eyes were completely open.
Books fell, drawers shook open, the file cabinets rocked and one tipped over. The little black and white TV fell over on its screen. The big plate window crumbled musically. After an eternity, everything quieted. Rick picked his way through the wreckage to the desk.
He tried the phone, clicking the receiver rest several times. A dial tone was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. He called home. Busy.
A.J. was probably calling Mom, he figured. The power was still on, so he unplugged the pinball machine to reset it. The bells were getting to him. The TV looked undamaged and he set it up.
“A 5.2 earthquake rocked the metro area just moments ago,” the perky weathergirlperson was saying, perkily. “Power is out in some areas of San Diego, and officials are advising people to stay where they are until the damage to roads can be assessed.”
The phone rang. “Simon and Simon investigations.” Rick did his best to sound professional. “This is Rick Simon. How can I help you?”
“Rick?” A.J.’s voice was strained, but not panicky. “Are you all right?”
“Of course. A bump on my nose from a falling book, but I’m fine. The TV is saying the roads are closed between here and home. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I was under the table. The Hole in the Water is on her side, and there’s some damage, but Marlowe’s fine too.”
“Mom?” Rick was assailed with visions of their mother, for all her spryness, being seriously hurt.
“She was turning off the gas. She had a leak. But she’s fine too.”
“Good. Look, I’m going to clean up the office and sleep here. The big window’s busted, and I don’t want anything stolen.”
“You’ll be okay. There’s some MREs and some bottled water in the bottom of the filing cabinet. I’ll come in tomorrow morning.”
“MREs.” Rick made a face. “Materials Resembling Edibles. Why didn’t you lay in some C-rations or backpack food?”
“Look, Rick, I’ll bring you a double Wonderburger tomorrow. Just stay safe tonight.”
Rick righted the filing cabinet and looked in the bottom drawer. Forty-two MRE Vs stared back, their labels taunting him with words like “ham loaf,” “beef slices in BBQ sauce” and “chicken a la king.” After all the spam in Nam, Rick would never willingly put anything marked “ham loaf” near his mouth again. A.J. had even stashed a couple pairs of athletic socks and sneakers in the drawer. Rick had wondered where that pair had gotten to.
His practical brother, always planning for disaster. They could live in the office for a week, longer if they only ate 2 meals a day, and walk out if they had to. If the kid was here right now, Rick was afraid he’d have to hug him stupid for thinking ahead so well.
He got to work, sorting out books and papers, and putting everything away. He swept up the glass, pleased that most of it had landed outside. He called the glazier, and got an early appointment.
It wasn’t too likely that there would be any clients, so he put up the “closed” sign and locked the door. Nothing else he could do. He watched the news. A 5.2 was really not much at all. Bored, he plugged the pinball machine back in and reset it before trying to beat his all time high score, ignoring the way the earth was still pitching under his feet.
There would be residual shakes in him, and aftershocks in the city for a while. He bounced the ball off the bumpers, trying for a triple. It was all just part of everyday life in southern California.
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Help?
Date: 2005-09-09 06:00 pm (UTC)I think I need to talk to them, if only to see what my options are...
Re: Help?
Date: 2005-09-09 08:47 pm (UTC)But try
Korsnes, Susan - Korsnes Susan
Address: 220 E Bond Ave # 114, West Memphis, AR 72301
Phone: (870) 735-9517
She specializes in divorce and family law
Re: Help?
Date: 2005-09-09 08:49 pm (UTC)