Agoraphobia

Day 23 (Jimmy and Nichole)

At first morning's light, Frank, Uncle Peter, and I headed to Great-Uncle Jimmy's house, where he lived with Great-Grandpa Ned and Nichole.

Two things I'd absolutely no interest in were sports and cars. My Great-Uncle had built a successful career combining both; he was a stock-car racer. A very successful one. His home was adorned with an impressive collection of trophies and plaques. The whole family was proud of him... except for me. I was happy he was happy, but not "proud" as such; I was thoroughly unimpressed with his ability to drive fast in a circle without crashing often.

Frank had no problem getting in because Jimmy still had a ramp installed from when Great-Grandpa Ned was briefly in a wheelchair.

My great-uncle's wife, Nichole, was undeniably attractive. She had thick, wavy, blond hair. Her blue eyes shined under long lashes. And her full lips looked like they could easily go pouty, but almost never did.

However, Nichole was NOT an empty-headed trophy wife. Far from it. She was a smart business woman who expertly managed the financial side of her husband's career. As a result, they had more bread than a prison meatloaf.

Nichole was an anomaly... A living oxymoron... She was an "intelligent conservative". Nichole was pro-NRA, pro-life, pro-war, pro-income inequality, and anti-immigration. She was also supremely materialistic. Uncle Peter once confided in me that Nichole was "the ugliest pretty woman I've ever met".

Jimmy and Nichole lived with my eighty-year-old great-grandfather, Ned. He was a war veteran and a widower. He had a wizened face, arm hair the texture of boar bristles, and skin like a baked apple. With the exception of his addiction to Metamucil, he was in good health. Great-Grandpa Ned's political views evolved differently than most people's. He started off conservative and became more liberal as he aged. Mom attributed this to accumulated wisdom. Nichole attributed it to senility.

Uncle Peter updated our hosts and told them his plan to move everyone to Elwood's.

Jimmy and Great-Grandpa Ned were amenable, but not Nichole. "I refuse to leave my home," she huffed. "Christine and Terry, were scheduled to come home from honeymooning in Hawaii. They might come here eventually."

"You can leave a note for your daughter and son-in-law before we leave." reasoned Uncle Peter.

"What about my parents and sister? The last time you visited, you promised me you'd check on them but never did."

"I promised to 'do my best'. But my best has limits. And traveling one-hundred-twenty miles to Effingham and back is beyond my limits. My attempt to keep my whole town alive has failed. I'm now attempting to keep a core group of about forty-five friends and relatives alive in a centralized location with renewable resources. You can choose to stay, but your only real hope of survival is to join us on the farm."

"I see no reason to move to a farm. We have food and a well right here."

"The well doesn't work unless you go outside to pump it."

"You could come a couple times a month to help us."

"We don't have extra gasoline to burn. This is a one-time trip. Once Samber and I leave, it's unlikely we'll ever come back."

"We could pay you."

"Pay me?! With what? Money? Where do I spend it? Who do I give it to in exchange for what? Am I the only person here who understands the SCOPE of this crisis!?"

Jimmy rested his hand on Nichole's wrist. "Honey, it's just temporary until Washington rescues us."

Nichole bitterly acquiesced. We transplanted all three to the farm along with the well's water pump and the wheelchair ramp.