Page 2 of My Heart Will Find You

“I’ll just get my suitcase,” Etta said.

The young woman looked Etta up and down as though she was the carrier of the disease. “We don’t have room for another suitcase.”

For the first time, Etta realized the seriousness of what was happening. If California had been shut down, how long before the other states followed? People around them were now moving quickly, and a sense of panic was filling the air. Was she going to miss an opportunity to get transportation because of a suitcase? She had her roller bag and her laptop so she’d be fine.

“Doesn’t matter,” Etta said. “I’m ready to go.”

“We can’t—” the young woman began.

“Rachel, please,” her grandmother said.

Reluctantly, with a look of threat, Rachel gave a curt nod. “You’ll sit in the back.”

“Glad it’s not in the trunk,” Etta mumbled and followed them outside. She didn’t say anything on the ride. She didn’t even ask if where they were going had any hotels nearby.

As they drove, the buildings became taller. It looked like they were going into the city. Good. There’d be more places to stay.

A text came from Alicia.

Haven’t found anything yet. Hotels are filling up. Grocery shelves are empty. Rent an apartment if you have to. Do whatever you must.

They were in a pretty residential area that was a combination of historical buildings and newer places.

Rachel pulled to the side and stopped the car. “This is as far as we go.”

“Rachel,” her grandmother said, “take her to a hotel. She’s not from here. She—”

Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “You haven’t been listening to the news. This disease is killing everyone your age. You are in extreme danger. Every second that you’re exposed to outsiders, your life is in further jeopardy.” She looked in the rearview mirror at Etta with hard eyes.

“I’ll get out here.” Etta clutched the handle of her roller case, got out, then leaned back in. “Could you point me in the direction of a hotel? I—”

Rachel drove away so fast that Etta had to leap back to avoid being hit by the open door. It shut as the car sped away too quickly for the residential area.

Etta was standing on a sidewalk in a city she’d never seen before. So now what should she do?

She turned full circle. Not a hotel in sight. No signs for apartments for rent. There were a couple of little stores, but they were closed.

Worse was that there were no people anywhere. She thought it was like a sci-fi movie where a spaceship had invaded and taken away all the people.

She pulled out her phone, tapped the GPS and asked where the nearest hotel was. A mere mile away. She tried to make a reservation, but the site said it was full but maybe they weren’t accepting guests online.

Etta walked toward where her phone said another hotel was, but she didn’t find it. Her plan was to beg and plead. Midwesterners were known for being nice so maybe she’d succeed in getting them to give her a room.

But she saw no hotels, no open stores, and only a few cars. Twice she waved to get a driver to stop but no one did.

She called her father and asked how he was doing. He said he was fine, not worried about anything, and promised to eat well and not stay up late. He chuckled at her hovering. “You’re the one who’s the concern,” he said. “You have no chicks to tend to so what will you do? Tell me when you’re settled.” She promised she would, then said goodbye. Introverts like her father were not scared by the idea of isolation. Actually, she doubted if he’d notice.

With a sigh, she looked around. Still, no people anywhere. She kept walking.

Maybe we should have listened to the news, she thought. When she was at home, after a long day with people, Etta was glad to spend quiet time with her father. They read or gardened and cooked. They both disliked network TV so if they watched something, it was an old movie. Thomas loved Westerns, and Etta liked black and whites from the forties.

Since Etta had been off work for weeks, they hadn’t heard of the fear generated by the virus.

Again, Etta stopped and looked around. To her left was a pretty little street with mature trees and old houses. Maybe she could knock on a door and ask for directions. Maybe someone would give her a glass of water. She was hungry and thirsty and starting to get worried.

She passed four well-groomed residences, then she halted. Before her was the prettiest house she’d ever seen. Some people gushed over Victorians with their turrets and eyebrow windows, but Etta liked plainer, more simple. She knew this house was Italianate. It was two story, with a flat roof, and three tall, narrow windows on the second floor. The ground floor had a porch that wrapped around two sides, with thin columns with pretty headers. The front door was double wide and painted a deep marine blue.

Etta stood there looking at the house and admiring it. It was so simple yet so beautiful.

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