Tom stood in the ankle-deep mud and stared in disbelief. The scene he beheld was right out of a post-apocalyptic nightmare. Dark brown mud, streaked with black from the fires further up the mountainside stretched up above him on the slope as far as the eye could see. The occasional rooftop or street sign broke the monotonous plain of mud. For the fifth time, he stared at the street sign to his left, then at the keychain in his palm. Willow Road on the sign matched up to 1655 Willow Road on the keychain. Unbidden, tears formed in the corners of his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. The tears were at odds with the grin forming on his mouth, as he chuckled in disbelief.
"You have got to be shitting me," he mumbled aloud. The chuckle became laughter, building to a scary, hysterical level.
"Sir? Do you need some help?" Tom hadn't even heard the police car pull up behind him. He managed to curtail his insane laughter, running his right hand down his face as he turned to face the police officer.
"Sorry, officer. I...I just bought this house and moved here from Indiana," he indicated the ruined structure with an outstretched arm.
"Ouch," the officer winced, "Do you have any place to stay? Any family or..."
Tom shook his head. "Can you recommend a decent hotel?" he asked.
As Tom drove his SUV to the hotel he reflected, "Seriously, could this be any worse?"
His life had already been a complete shambles. This move to beautiful Southern California was supposed to be a chance to start over. He had gotten an excellent deal on a recently built home in a nice neighborhood, with a beautiful view of the San Jacinto Mountains from the back porch. Worse, he had the unfortunate foresight to have professional movers deliver his furniture, dishes, and most of his clothes to the house a week earlier. The mudslide had buried not only his new home, but most of his possessions as well. All he had now was a travel bag with a couple of outfits, and a suit hanging in the backseat. At least he had the weekend to try to sort some things out before starting his new job on Monday.
He pulled his grimy vehicle into the parking lot of the Best Western the officer had recommended. He was so busy wracking his brain that he failed to notice the "No Vacancy" sign was illuminated. He walked in the double doors and up to the uncomfortable-looking young man behind the counter. He read the name tag.
"Justin," Tom said in as calm a voice as he could muster, "I'm going to need a room for at least the weekend. What have you got for me?"
Justin had watched this grime-coated man walking from his vehicle. There had been too many ugly scenes already the past week, with a stream of suddenly displaced families all fighting for a place to stay. The hotel had been mostly full with a pair of conventions in town before the recent fires and subsequent mud slides. Tom was not a physically imposing man; he was just short of six feet tall with an average build. Covered in dust, and with a grim look on his face, though, he made Justin very nervous.
"I—I'm sorry, sir," Justin stuttered, 'We're already full."
Tom turned, finally seeing the "No Vacancy" sign. He let out a deep sigh. "Of course you are," he said softly. Once again, he ran his hand over his face. He detected signs of panic in Justin's face, so he continued with, "It's alright, Justin. I totally understand, it isn't your fault at all. I think you can help me out, though. Give me just a second."
Tom pulled out his smart phone and brought up a map. He keyed in the address of his new employer and presented the phone to Justin. "Can you see if you guys have a hotel closer to this address, and get me a room there for the weekend?"
"Yes, sir!" Justin went to work on his computer console, happy to be in a position to use his training. He was relieved that the man across the counter was so calm.
As bad as this was, Tom had seen much worse. Although it now seemed like a lifetime ago, he had served in a forward unit in Afghanistan, and then in Iraq. His unit often deployed in remote areas, using sophisticated electronic surveillance to find and eliminate hostile operations centers. Indirectly, his military training had led to his current career. He had been an electrical switchboard operator at a power distribution station in Indiana, and was taking a similar position here.
Justin grinned as he turned the monitor around for Tom to see. There was another branch hotel less than a block from the power station, and Justin had gotten him a room at a substantial discount. Tom carefully wiped his hand clean on the leg of his pants and then shook the young clerk's hand.
"Thank you so much, Justin. You are a lifesaver."
Tom reflected, climbing into his SUV, that this really was a break. There was no sense in him staying this far from work. Clearly nothing in the house was salvageable. He started the car up, fueled up at the next gas station, and proceeded through the evening traffic to the hotel. On the bright side he was going the right direction, he thought. The traffic coming out to the suburbs was bumper-to-bumper. It took him less than an hour to reach his hotel and check in.
Tom stood in the warm water of the shower and let the mud and stress of the day wash off of him. Emerging cleaner in body and soul, he sat at the table wrapped in a towel and brought up his Facebook page. "Help! Suddenly Homeless In SoCal!" he posted. Below that, he posted a picture of his mud-embalmed house. He checked his clothes as he hung them up. Fortunately they were spared the dirt and mud that now coated his sneakers and socks. He threw those in the trash, then took the bag out and tied it securely. No sense getting that all over the place. He would need to buy some new clothes, though.
Tom lay back on the bed, relaxing in boxers and a white t-shirt. He turned on the TV, figuring he would relax after driving all day. He wasn't in a big hurry to find a place to eat or go shopping. "His" neighborhood was on the news. The reporter on the scene was standing less than a mile from where he had been standing just over an hour ago. Tom just shook his head as he watched. Then it occurred to him that he needed to call his insurance company, pronto. He reached for the phone with a sigh. This probably wouldn't be pleasant.
Surprisingly, the insurance company was just fantastic. As a veteran, he was insured with USAA, and the nice lady on the other end of the line in San Antonio handled his situation with aplomb. A claims agent would be dispatched within a day, and he was immediately granted a line of credit to replace his household goods. When he hung up the phone, he felt genuinely good.
Naturally, Tom had to ruin it by thinking, "Man, when is the last time I actually felt this good?" His mood darkened. It had been a long time.
After nearly getting killed in Iraq—more than once—Tom had decided not to reenlist. He used his G. I. Bill to go to college. As an older college student, and finally finding himself "back in the world," he had really enjoyed his classes. He made friends easily, and was attractive enough that he dated several women. Then he met Virginia, his now-ex wife. She had been completely charming, and amazing in the bedroom. They were together for seven months, when she announced that she was pregnant.
Tom was enchanted with her, and looked forward to starting a family together. They made plans to get married, back in her hometown in Indiana. Then, she insisted that they move to her hometown, so that she could have her family around her during her pregnancy. Virginia's father basically got Tom his job there. It was a good job, and paid well. It did require him to work long shifts, but the work itself was not demanding. Unlike most of his coworkers, Tom made sure that he exercised and kept in shape.
Despite his best efforts, Virginia drifted away from him. Tom was always an outsider there, and she renewed ties with all of her old friends. They did have a second child, but even that did not stop Virginia from becoming ever more distant and caustic toward him. Finally, Tom was completely blown away when Virginia's family lawyers served him with divorce papers at work. He was kicked out of his own home.
It took two months for Tom to find a decent lawyer to represent him. Virginia's family was a big deal locally. Tom had to find a law firm in Indianapolis that would take his side in the divorce. His ex-wife was being vindictive, planning to bleed him dry in the divorce...until the paternity test results revealed that neither of the children was his.
