Daimones

Geneva

With the addition of the two dogs, our survival unit grew to five elements. The two German Shepherds amazed us. They had distinct personalities, marked by self-confidence. Taxi and Tarantula were poised and, when the situation demanded it, they were eager, alert and ready to serve in any capacity. They proved to be exceptionally loyal and tended to be especially protective toward Annah. I believe they understood she was the youngster of our pack and paid extra attention to her.

Days passed by and I started to venture around with Taxi and Tarantula. If anything, it increased our mutual understanding and trust. Annah came on patrol with us a few times, even more so whenever the intended route hit the countryside to visit farms. Sometimes we found the farmer had died while attending the cattle. I was careful not to expose Annah to too many scenes of death, though it was inevitable.

We freed farm animals whenever we saw them confined. Carefully, as the animals were frightened and they literally jumped out onto the pasture grounds. What else could have been done? I fantasized about having a horse for when cars disappeared forever and horses once more became the principal means of transportation. I dreamed about getting milk from cows and producing our own cheese. The reality was we had little knowledge about those things.

We checked from time to time that everything was fine at the farms we visited. Animals had grass to eat at their leisure all year long in our regions and, with help from both Mary and Annah, we opened barns and gave them access to the hay supplies. In the future, they would have to fend for themselves as they, too, had to learn new habits and new routines if they wanted to survive. One thing was certain, we could not visit every farm in the surrounding area, but even that limited activity gave us things to do and reasons to plan for the days ahead. It made our presence in the world meaningful; we still served a purpose.

I really didn’t believe I would have to resort to riding horses in my lifetime. I thought if my car broke, I only had to find another one, even a brand new one. Gasoline wasn’t a problem. With the portable generators, I could operate the pumps at gas stations even when the electricity went out. In the worst of cases, I could use the manual pumps I found at the hardware store and access the station reservoirs directly.

With the company of our dogs, I grew more confident scouting the area with Mary and Annah. I relied on the dogs to increase our overall awareness. At times, I had the impression they were scouting on their own, then coming back to reassure everyone all was fine. Sometimes Mary stayed home, waiting for us, especially when the surveillance raids we planned weren’t going to last for too long.

My wife and daughter learned their way with the guns, though Annah was more natural and achieved higher accuracy than her mother. In the end, after trying both the Glock and the Beretta, and for hundreds of rounds, Annah preferred to use the Italian pistol. Moreover, she started to try shooting with both hands using the Berettas, and with decent success.

With all the free time, I had arranged our own shooting range in a nearby field. We used old frying pans of different sizes for targets, hanging them from poles and supports obtained with materials from the hardware store. We placed them at various distances with the intention of providing increased difficulty.

For myself, I loved the Glock pistols. Once, I fired 200 rounds in succession without the gun ever getting jammed. To me, that was incredible as the barrel was hot, but not unbearably so. They were reliable guns, and I don’t think it was due to my skills in keeping them clean.

The other star of our arsenal was the Benelli shotgun. I destroyed a few pans with them. Taxi and Tarantula got quite nervous the first few times and barked a lot, but I needed them to get used to the shots, the noise, and the smell. Once they showed they trusted us and stayed calm in all situations, I would know we had become a tough bite for anything or anyone who might one day cross our path with less than honorable intentions.

The Skorpions had little recoil. Mary and Annah could use them easily in both single-shot mode and rapid fire. A bit different for them, and more difficult to handle, was the full auto-mode. They sprayed bullets all around. Not efficient against an isolated target but they would improve with practice. They fared much better with the stock extended than without. They gained in accuracy that way. Mary accepted, willingly or unwillingly, the presence of guns in our life. There were good reasons to have them and she stopped arguing about it.

Although I didn’t make a point to visit and verify every house, those nearby and the village were deserted, the owners obviously dead. After a while, we took those deaths for granted. A few times we had to scare away estranged dogs. In the meantime, the animals had started to hunt in packs, and I suspected some must have fed on human corpses. Usually, they never tried to approach us, and only as a matter of precaution did we fire a few shots in their direction without attempting a kill. We had seen no wolves so far, just some foxes, and we could spot deer now crossing the fields or wandering around, suffering no more disturbance from human presence.

We ventured back to the gun shop to replenish our ammunition supplies; practice makes perfect but requires lots of rounds. I thought we were doing pretty well.

March got well under way with a warm spring that made everyone happy but Mary, who always suffered from allergies this time of year. The pharmacy at the mall proved to be useful. Medicines, drops, and pills aplenty, much more than actually needed.

***

We lost interest in the Internet and emails. Without any updates, it had become a frustrating and disappointing task. We took for granted that our chances of establishing contact with anyone had to be as in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: “… Two to the power of two hundred and seventy-six thousand, seven hundred and nine to one against.” Getting in touch with someone would have felt like winning the lottery.

Mary and I reinstated formal education for Annah. Well, mostly Mary, because she was a real teacher. She was the Head of School, the Dean, and the Minister of Education. I helped with math, physics, science and technology subjects; Mary covered all the rest. Our first goal was to finish the current year's program at the International School that had stopped abruptly that past February. We had all the textbooks available at home, so we didn’t have to start from scratch, nor reinvent procedures or teaching methods.

Exerting ourselves to provide Annah with a proper education had other side effects: it gave us reasons to follow the calendar. We kept count of the days of the week, and respected weekend rests from lessons and teaching. I believe we would have soon lost track of time if not for the school schedules. Schooling provided Annah with continuity, a structure where she could recognize her place in it.

Of course, we had to fight resistance. “What’s the use, Dad? Why learn things I’ll never use…”

Kids always threw hat kind of remarks at parents, and were easier to counter in the old world. I could not talk Annah into future perspectives, better jobs and opportunities, to stand out in the crowd, and all those things.

One day, I gave Annah a sad and honest answer that cut short all further discussion. “Because there is no one else to remember all that. Because we can share what we know with you, and you will remember us better when we will not be here anymore. Annah, we've lost everything... I do not want to give up on you. When I think about the future all I see is you. The best love I can give you is the one that will awaken your soul. That will make you want to reach for more, plant a fire in your heart, and make you stronger. That's what I hope to give you forever.”

Annah rushed into my opened arms. We both cried.

Every day was an inner fight to find the strength to carry on, to not give up. Every day the world simply moved on, ignoring us. Yet, everything was just perfect all around, though humanity was no longer a factor in the grand equation of the planet. If I didn’t know quite how to face that, how could a twelve-year-old girl? Still, I had hope. I refused to passively accept the facts, to believe we were the end of everything. I refused it, I refused to give in to desperation.

***

With Taxi and Tarantula, Annah and I went to the local golf course every week. Grinning with sadness, I thought I must have been among the best players in the world with my 16 index, and Annah was a close second, even if she didn’t have an official one yet. Yet…

She will never get an official index, but I will give her one when she'd score less than 18 shots over par on the 9-holes near the CERN lab. Starting from the high-handicap ladies’ tee-off, of course.

Some things never change, and I clung to them to avoid sliding down a mental ravine, tearing me apart... then, I would have found only madness.

Those rounds, with Taxi and Tarantula watching and on alert for us, were moments of true serenity and it felt as if nothing had happened. Those were the moments to cherish, sharing a passion with Annah, seeing her trying hard just to learn how to play golf with me. I knew she did that mainly to be together. I rewarded her with my smiles, laughers, and cheers for every good shot she managed.

Time was the one thing we now had more of than ever before. Maybe we were all a bit crazy, playing golf when the rest of the world as we knew it had died. What were we supposed to do? I guess that craziness is what kept us going.

***

By the end of March, we had yet to venture to downtown Geneva. Neither did we ever go to the shopping district. I explored part of Meyrin. I identified shops and businesses that could become additional sources of provisions. There was a large multi-store center in Meyrin and we didn't really need anything from Geneva: food, medicines, clothes and general supplies were available at both malls, the one in France and the one in Meyrin. Thus, it was only out of curiosity that we decided to plan a day in Geneva.

The last weekend of March, Saturday the 31^st, we loaded the car with food, water and ammunition to spend a full day scouting the town. How different from visits only a few weeks before: some shopping, a restaurant, just some good times together. Now we prepared for an expedition to enemy territory, planning for danger and the unexpected.

We locked and secured the house, closed the gate. As a last measure, I parked a brown UPS truck in front of the driveway gate; one I'd recovered a week before from its dead driver. The truck obstructed and protected our entrance. Now, nothing could ram into our gate.

I borrowed the idea from memories of the Mel Gibson “Mad Max” movies I had seen in the past. Never would I have imagined that one day Hollywood would provide me with instructional tips on how to survive. Ours was a much safer world than the one Max experienced in those plots. He had lost his family and avenged their deaths in a killing rampage against the villains, thus the title. I do not think he was mad at all.

He lived in a world where an unknown conflict had destroyed the entire civilization. I believed I wasn’t going to share his fate in our new world. There were no villains around, so far, and our civilization infrastructures were still standing. In my world, everyone, including the villains, had perished. I believed we had better prospects for a more peaceful life than the one depicted in those movies.

We started our short journey to town. The last time we'd all gone together, we’d planned some shopping and a dinner at our favorite restaurant for family outings: the Relais de l’Entrecote. Back then, we were armed with our credit cards, not guns, quite confident about the future and the stability of our lives. I had a job and a very good salary. Honestly, at that time, I had already started to dislike my job and even thought about quitting, but I was in no hurry. It was an entirely different life, the life of a different me in a different world.

We crossed the border, passed in front of the CERN lab main entry, and went straight to downtown, the same way I drove through for my first visit to the gun shop. I'd had more time to grow accustomed to scenes of death, car accidents and overturned vehicles than Mary and Annah. My wife held my hand and squeezed it hard at times. In the backseat, Annah sat between Taxi and Tarantula and I could see in the rearview mirror that she hid her face in their thick coats so as not to see too much of anything. Was it too early for her?

We arrived in town in silence; there were no appropriate words to comment on anything. I didn’t notice any change from my last ride through town. Not any human changes, at least… yet how fast nature reclaimed open spaces.

Geneva had become an untidy and sloppy town. The streets were deserted, and plants had started to grow wild. Weeds had sprouted in pavement cracks, finding the smallest possible fertile spots where their roots could grip the earth, like cats that bury their claws on a doomed prey, indifferent to the victim’s pain and destiny. The previously neat and trimmed green areas, flowerbeds, and urban decorations had grown in a chaotic way, at least to our civilized eyes. Dead leaves bunched together where wind had collected them along with papers, plastic bags and everything else not securely fixed in place.

We caught glimpses of cats and small dogs that must have escaped from their masters’ apartments—now tombs—and we resisted Annah's pleas for us to start an animal shelter. We had two dogs already. We couldn’t take in every stray we saw.

A few cars were scattered around helter-skelter, those of early commuters culled that watershed day when human civilization had been cut short. I don’t know who the ghosts were now, us or those unlucky drivers locked in their vehicles, their path interrupted by a fatal destiny in the shape of a wall, or a streetlight post. Some seemed to have parked in impossible locations, left there to rot by an uncaring fate disposing of garbage. Pigeons and seagulls from nearby Lake Lemano had left their marks and there was no one around to clean up after them.

We arrived at the Pont du Mont Blanc, a bridge crossing the point where the Rhone River exits the lake to continue a few miles further into France. The bridge was free of cars and intact except for a broken, twisted balustrade on the right side. Something had smashed into it, like slashing open a wound into its metallic flesh. Whatever the vehicle, it had plunged into the lake, taking the already dead driver into his liquid tomb.

Slowly, we crossed the bridge to reach the shopping district. Geneva rivaled London and Paris as a prime shopping destination in Europe. No shopaholics around that day, though.

The window displays looked magnificent as ever, but there was no one to attract anymore: business shut down for lack of customers. I had the impression of walking onto a movie set, all perfectly staged down to the smallest details, yet deserted as the actors and crew had not arrived.

The entire district resembled a fashion runway, perfect and beautiful. The resemblance though was loathsome, as if fashionable jewels and clothing brands had finally admitted they did not care whether customers liked them or not. They reclaimed a reason to exist for themselves, becoming altars and shrines to vanity and vacuity.

My goal, our goal, was not a shopping frenzy. Our goal was to see if anyone could still be alive in town, to find evidence of their presence: any broken shop windows, any sign of people looking to sustain themselves. I had looted the gun shop and the malls to keep us going. If we saw evidence of looting here, that would be a clear sign of people alive.

I did not want to get out of the car before a good sweep of the area so we kept driving, my paranoid side on high alert. Mary and Annah were ready to intervene at any moment. Taxi and Tarantula sensed our tension, and growled and whimpered.

I drove all the way to the end of Rue du Rhone, than back onto Rue de la Conféderation and Rue du Marché. That was the first time ever for me, as that last part of our driving loop had always been closed to private vehicles. Only streetcars traveled up and down it. Once. In another world.

“We should go to the grocery stores,” Mary said.

“I agree. I don’t like it very much, but we need to get out of the car.”

We stopped in front of the Confederation Center. Itself a shopping mall, it was near two other big ones, Globus and Coop. People, if there were any alive, would have looted them. We headed to the Center first. In our world, everything was of the highest priority or of no priority at all. It didn’t matter; we didn’t matter. We had become inconsequential matters to the rest of the world.

We got out, with caution. Taxi and Tarantula sniffed the air, waiting for us to move. I looked at them; they did not seem to have sensed the presence of anyone. I carried one of the Benelli shotguns with me, and my Glocks. Mary and Annah each held one of the Skorpion pistols. We were no longer the ordinary family we had been two months before. We sought out clues—and, hopefully, people—and acted as a platoon in a war zone. We were ready to face danger if danger dared to face us.

Clouds had started to gather earlier in the morning, and now they covered the sky with a dense, thick layer. Spring had arrived too early in the region, and that brought weather instability. It was much colder than during the previous weeks, and dismally, depressingly dark as if the world itself wanted to remind us we lived in a cemetery.

We avoided the street-level entrance, as I wanted to get in from the top floor. The Center was at the footsteps of the old town, perched higher than where we had arrived. A set of old stone stairs wound up and crossed through one little old road to the other, arranged in an intricate way. We would've accessed the Center and made our way inside from above.

We were used to the silence by now, hearing just the noises coming from nature: birds, breeze, rustling leaves. It felt less macabre than before. We climbed the winding stairway to the upper level. The old buildings overlooked our advance and were deaf and mute, as if we were an oddity not worthy of commentary.

The old town had turned into a huge bird's nest; pigeons and doves cooed, heedless of our presence among those old walls. I wondered whether they marveled at us, walking below them, a remnant of a past they surely had already forgotten. High up, the cry of a hawk pierced the air. A new equilibrium had established itself between prey and predators in town.

What were we? Predators or prey? I chased the thought away; I needed no distractions. Taxi and Tarantula climbed together at our heels, not leaving the pack. They would have preceded us and scouted ahead by themselves only if I had ordered them to with a “Check,” and rushed back to us when I whistled.

Finally, we reached the top. It took a long time with the slow, careful pace we had adopted. A little pedestrian paved square opened in front of us where the Brasserie Lipp and the Capocaccia restaurant faced each other. The terrace of the Capocaccia was ready to welcome epicureans from the old town businesses; it was a depressing scene now.

We stopped and stood with our backs to the low wall of the terrace. Everything was silent, and calm. The upper level of the Confederation Center opened to the paved square we had just reached. From our position, I could barely distinguish the interior even though the lights were on.

I gave the order: “Check.” Taxi and Tarantula jumped ahead and entered the Center, ears pricked up. I signaled Annah and Mary to stay back, glued to the terrace wall, and I slowly moved forward to the entrance. I knelt down and got a glance of both dogs searching inside. Nothing abnormal, apparently.

I let my eyes adjust to the interior lights before taking a step inside. It did not take long. I advanced a couple yards ahead to have a clearer view. I glanced back, Mary and Annah waited for me.

The Lipp entrance stood next to the right. An escalator to the mid-level went down on the opposite side of the hallway. The main entry to the Capocaccia restaurant, a remake of Italian stone steps with its forged iron balustrade, was as inviting as ever.

I whistled to the dogs and signaled both Annah and Mary to rejoin me. Taxi and Tarantula dashed toward me, happy. I gave them a treat. “Good boy, Taxi. Good girl, Tarantula. Nothing to see here, huh?”

Mary knelt next to my side, Annah right behind her.

“All seems clear at this level, as if no one has been here since…” Since that early day in February, when our world had been replaced by this new, weird one.

Mary put one hand on my shoulder. “Let’s stay together now.”

I nodded.

Neither Capocaccia nor Lipp showed any sign of a break-in. The Center had two levels above the ground. The building was shaped like a doughnut; each level consisted of shops along the outer perimeter. A large hallway balcony circled around allowing for a continuous flow of shoppers without intersections. On one end, there was an open-view elevator for patrons to see through the transparent cabin to catch a glimpse of their next shopping destination.

The ceiling lights and the marble columns gave the whole place a sort of Art-Deco flavor. There weren’t many hiding places there, but we proceeded cautiously down the escalator.

At the first level, Taxi and Tarantula searched the area before us as we kept advancing along the hallway. The dogs kept eye contact with us, and sniffed all over as they scouted the place.

La Maison du Gateau, a well-known pastry shop, looked as if it was about to open. When we reached its windows, the cakes looked stale. There was no other visible sign the shop had been abandoned. On the other side of the balcony, I saw a small, local shop that sold Cuban cigars. I mentally took note of it, a possible stop for my own gratification.

Apart from being dirtier and now the home of a few birds, looked much the same as it did in February. No looting or other degradation from fellow humans. There was nothing more to see.

We exited at the street level and returned to the car. A light rain was falling, and the clouds were even darker than before. Maybe we would have a wet weekend. Probably. No shooting training that coming Sunday. Instead, I would light the fireplace, Mary would bake a cake, and we would watch a rental movie on Apple TV. It seemed crazy it was still working along with the Internet and electricity. Almost as if the world and its infrastructures were telling us, “We do not need you. Good riddance.”

Degradation had hit the Internet, but at first it only affected specific sites, not its accessibility as a whole. When the entire service went dead, I planned to add regular visits to CERN as a new routine. The lab enjoyed higher uptime services and dedicated lines and had its own power grid.

Our next stop was the Coop City Fusterie shopping mall. It was only a short distance down Rue du Commerce, which started almost in front of the Center. We arrived at the mall entrance on the corner, at the end of the block. The automatic doors opened with a squeaking and scratching noise. These will stop working soon, I thought.

Suddenly, Taxi and Tarantula growled. We turned slowly. A group of four dogs stared at us, and showed their teeth. They considered the area as theirs and took us for intruders to be challenged.

Annah and Mary froze.

“Stay calm,” I said in a very low voice. “Be ready to shoot but stay calm. Don’t stare at them.”

“Dad?” Annah asked in a whisper.

Mary kept silent, her eyes fixed on the group of unwelcoming animals. “Annah, if they attack, you aim and shoot. Don’t panic.”

I aimed the Benelli. “Mary, get inside with Annah. Slowly.” A dog bite could have serious consequences, potentially fatal in our situation. I did not want to risk any of that.

“Dad, no!” Annah protested but Mary put one hand on her shoulder and pushed her gently toward the mall.

Our dogs would have confronted the group if I ordered it, or if those four attacked, but our shooting might have put both Taxi and Tarantula in danger.

T&T split in front of us, almost at the same time as Annah and Mary reached the mall. I was ready to shoot. One of the four dogs was the size of Tarantula; the other three were of smaller breeds.

Taxi and Tarantula growled even louder and made little steps forward. I followed, maintaining a distance of two or three steps behind them. The Coop automatic doors closed behind me as we moved away, as if the curtains fell on our stage, preventing Mary and Annah from getting involved.

The biggest of the pack advanced, and antagonized Taxi and Tarantula. In reaction, they side-stepped and increased the distance between them. Now the large dog could not stare at both at the same time. The new situation must had created an additional problem in its brain.

I took a stance in the middle, the shotgun pointing right at the dog’s head. I had a clear and free line of fire. My hands started to ache and I realized I was squeezing the Benelli’s grip with too much strength. Drops of perspiration erupted on my forehead and my eyes started to itch as the sweat made its way down my face. My index finger contracted on the trigger, determined to eliminate the danger before it mushroomed.

I could not say exactly what changed, but the pack leader suddenly took a less aggressive posture and barked a couple times at a high pitch. The other three crouched low to the ground and tucked their tails between their legs. Taxi and Tarantula seemed like wolves ready to pounce on their prey.

The stray dogs looked away, everywhere but directly at my shepherds, avoiding their sight as if it hurt them. T&T kept showing their teeth and snarled in a display of dominance. I watched the whole scene in amazement. Certainly, Annah and Mary were watching, too, from inside the mall, but I didn’t dare to turn and check.

The pack leader moved forward but kept its head low and its ears turned backward; the tail waggled in what seemed a stressed pattern, held at mid-height. Taxi and Tarantula stared at the approaching dog.

When she got close enough, Tarantula opened her mouth and gripped the dog’s neck and head. She pushed it to the ground with her paw while Taxi stood tall next to them. I had never seen anything like it.

Tarantula moved then toward the other three dogs to complete the show. They exposed their belly to her and let her sniff their genitalia.

I relaxed a bit and turned toward Mary and Annah inside the mall and gestured, “Did you see that?”

Mary shook her head while Annah smiled, relieved and proud of her dogs. I backed toward the sliding doors; they opened with a lament. Standing at the entrance, I whistled. Taxi and Tarantula startled, undecided for a split second, then rushed toward me, faithfully. The other dogs stayed still and did not move.

I entered the mall, followed by our white guardians, and reached my wife and daughter. The automatic doors closed behind us, panting as if they exhaled their last breath. Mary had a cloth in her hand and began to wipe my face. “I’d say we know now who keeps their cool better in this family.” She glanced at our furry companions. I was glad she could joke; I took the cloth from her and gave a second pass to my face before I kissed her.

“Eww. Gross, Daddy.” We turned and smiled at our frowning daughter.

We faced the women's department store, and started walking down the aisles. Annah and Mary were distracted by the display of clothes, dresses, jackets, sweaters, shirts and skirts and caressed them while passing through.

Annah turned around and smiled shyly. It was in moments such as this when the reality of what our lives had become hit us. The world was intact, and that made the task to cover our basic needs an easy one. Yet, at the same time, it was a painful reminder of everything and everyone we had lost and that we would never have with us anymore.

I smiled back. “Do you need anything?”

Mary stopped, and looked at me with a question in her eyes. I pointed at the rows and rows of fine garments and fashion brands on display. Annah’s eyes glittered.

“I think it’s okay if we split up. Look around here, stay for a moment and see whether anything is out of place. Keep Tarantula with you while I check out the grocery level below with Taxi.”

Annah opened her mouth in excitement, and a brief look at my wife confirmed she understood now what I had in mind. I nodded.

“C’mon, Taxi. Let the ladies do some shopping.” I took the staircase to the lower level with Taxi by my side.

Taxi was relaxed, leisurely glancing around and at me, breathing calmly. I guessed he didn’t sense any presence of animals or humans.

“Heel.” I commanded and walked toward the produce and food area. Taxi got closer, glued to me.

The automatic barrier opened gently. Bright lights flooded the floor as if nothing had ever happened. At first sight, all goods and shelves were untouched. I entered through sweets and candies aisle. Taxi kept my pace. Further down the aisle, to the right, my eyes fell on rows and rows of chocolate bars.

I stopped. I couldn’t resist, never had been able to. I got a few dark, bittersweet ones and put them in a pocket of my vest. I never much liked the taste of milk chocolate and, as I child, I felt desperate each time someone brought some thinking they made me happy. I couldn’t understand why my parents never told anyone I hated milk chocolate. I didn’t even bother to look at those gifts.

With that in mind, with care, I unwrapped a Cailler Crémant bittersweet chocolate bar. I closed my eyes, smelled the fragrance, and enjoyed the rich, dark chocolate flavor. I supposed Mary and Annah must have been having a similar tension-free moment amid all the fine clothing upstairs.

Taxi touched my leg with his nose, looking up to me, imploring with beguiling eyes. He pulled me abruptly from my dreaming. Like Sid in “Ice Age” did with Scrat, the saber-toothed squirrel, saving his life right when he was about to eat a giant acorn in heaven. Scrat got mad at Sid when he returned to his senses. I couldn’t get mad at Taxi.

I shook my head. “Not for you buddy. This delicacy would kill you.” Instead, I gave him a dog treat I always carried with me. “Let’s see what Lady Luck is treating you with…ah, lamb. Your favorite.”

Taxi took the Meaty Bone with obvious pleasure. He licked my hand, too, something I never liked, and had yet to get used to. I glanced at my wet and sticky hand and sighed.

“Let’s move on.” I dried Taxi’s drool on the backside of my pants.

I glanced around. I wanted to examine the place quickly but thoroughly, and I did not want to stay away from my girls for too long. The produce area smelled foul; everything was rotten and moldy. Pineapples, peaches, grapes, tomatoes, and cucumbers were all ready for the bin. Potatoes had germinated, but they would still be edible, I guessed. Carrots, on the contrary, were mushy and covered with mold spots.

That area presented no signs of looting. I proceeded to examine other parts of the store and, with a bit of disappointment, I had to conclude that we were the first to visit.

I got a bottle of mineral water from a shelf and drank a sip. Then I poured some in my hand, and let Taxi have a drink, too.

There was nothing left for us to do. I returned to my girls. “Mary?” I called out.

“Here, Dan. We're here.” I followed her voice.

Taxi and Tarantula greeted each other, and Tarantula licked Taxi’s mouth. Before handing the bottle of water to Mary, I had Tarantula drink off my hand too.

Annah was radiant, and so was Mary. They had spent time trying on jackets and trousers, some shirts and accessories as well. It looked like they’d truly had a good time, but I believe Mary was just happy to see our daughter smiling and carefree as any twelve-year-old should be. I stopped to watch Mary show her things to try on, and how to wear them, combine colors, and styles. Together. Laughing and joking. As before.

“Dad. Look what I found.” She ran to me holding a beautiful leather jacket, a three-quarter sleeve suede jacket, and a luxury cashmere coat. They’d found other things, of course. Many others.

“May I keep them? They are so gorgeous.” I looked at Mary and pretended to think for a moment to decide.

I sighed feigning resignation. “I guess, but then we’d need to go back to the car first. We can’t carry all that around.”

“Please, please, Daddy.”

Why say no? At least, something positive from that day. I went to the cash register to get a couple large plastic bags and handed them to Mary.

Annah pumped her fist. “Yes.”

“Did you find anything down there?” Mary nodded toward the stairs. I answered a mute ‘No’ with a head shake.

“What now?”

“Well, we put all this stuff into the car and try the Globus mall. Then we go to the Eaux Vives district, and hit the shopping center.”

Mary nodded in agreement and brought Annah the bags. “Annah, sweetie, help me fill these. We have a few more stops to go.”

When we stepped out onto the street, the stray dogs had gone. The rain had subsided, and turned into just a spring shower. The cloud layer appeared to be getting thinner and the day was a bit brighter than before. I walked in front of the group and toward the car. Annah chatted with Mary about her new clothing. Suddenly, she stopped short as if her mood changed abruptly. Mary asked her what was wrong but Annah walked with a brisk pace and kept replying, “Nothing.” Then she turned and burst out, “Mom. I don’t want to talk about this, okay?”

I turned. Mary frowned and caressed her hair but Annah tilted her head away. Mary glanced at me, worried and puzzled. I raised my shoulders. I didn’t want to say anything with Annah there. “Let’s go.”

I resumed walking, reached the car, and put the bags in the back. In silence, everyone got in and I drove further up on Rue du Marché toward Place du Molard.

The Globus mall occupied almost an entire block. We parked in front of the square, near the entrance to Bon Genie, another department store. Just to give it a try, I went for the main entrance.

This time, the doors remained closed. I examined a secondary entrance, the one opening straight into the cosmetics department. Locked as well. Obviously, no one had visited the store in the past two months.

On the other side of the road, stood Globus. We went straight for the entry on the Place du Molard, which opened directly into the restaurants area. That entrance was locked, too, and the tinted windows didn’t allow me to have a clear view inside. We tried the main entry back on Rue du Marché: no luck there either. I took a deep breath. “Next time.” No Globus for us that day unless we smashed through, but that wasn’t in the plans.

In the shopping district, Place du Molard was one of our favorite stops. A couple of restaurants and a pub occupied the middle area of the square with their tables and chairs when the weather encouraged eating outside. We peeked through the windows of the Café du Centre, the Pizzeria Molino, and the Lord Nelson Pub where I had shared quite a few tasty beers with friends. They were all deserted, business shut for good. For a while, we were each lost in our own memories.

“Okay,” I looked at Mary and Annah. “Why don’t we take a break and eat something?”

We sat at the fountain near the florist and ate in silence. Taxi and Tarantula did, too. I hadn’t forgotten Annah was troubled. Bad thoughts can be dangerous if left to simmer. They weaken the heart slowly and invisibly like termites that destroy the beams of a house, secretly, in the dark, until it's too late and everything collapses. Later, Mary and I would have to address that. We needed a place where we could pretend everything was all right and normal around us. A place where we could be us.

“I’m sure the next doors will open,” I thought aloud.

The Eaux Vives 2000 was a shopping center with multiple stores and little artisan shops inside. A completely different style than Globus and Bon Genie. Less upscale, designed to appeal to customers with lower budgets. It had bank, ATMs, a pharmacy, a florist, laundries, and a grocery store.

Annah snapped. “Can we go now?”

I exchanged a glance with Mary and signaled her not to press the subject. “Sure.” I replied.

From there, driving in the streetcar lanes, would take only a couple minutes. On our way, I glanced at the Davidoff store with its luxury tobacco goods.

Cigars. I wondered whether the sealed room where they stored them was still working and kept the tobacco at the perfect temperature. I indulged in memories while passing by. I smiled at Mary. “I have to stop there someday. I always wanted a humidor.”

Mary shook her head.

“A large one, with space for hundreds of cigars. And full as an egg, of course.” I winked.

My smoking habits never fully justified the budget that dream required, although a humidor full of Corona Esplendidos would look fantastic in the living room. Who knows, maybe I would start savoring them more often now.

Further up was the Apple Store; no long lines in sight. I wondered what happened to people like Tim Cook, Phil Schiller, Jonathan Ive and others I had seen on stage quite a few times in previous years. I guessed they'd all joined Steve Jobs now. Apple family reunited, I thought sadly.

Driving or walking in downtown Geneva, in the shopping district always packed with people, was usually mission impossible, especially on Saturdays. Now it was deserted; no voices, no need to make your way amid a dense pedestrian flow of wealthy people. Before, by this time of day, Latino music bands would have entertained bystanders, and on the corner, maybe, a Conservatoire student would have been playing the cello.

No one played music for us. Not there. Not then.

Not even a new living Mozart would be able to gather onlookers today. Or tomorrow. Or ever. Music was dead.

Again, looming thoughts were ready to bring me down. I didn’t know why they kept coming, unannounced, like cold, bony fingers trying to pull me toward the abyss of madness.

***

My Annah was the most precious girl ever, sunny and happy, always fantasizing about a bright future, first loves, boys who had recently got her young, blossoming-woman’s attention. “Hot boys,” she said, ready to add right after, “but nice boys, Dad. They are very gentle.”

I looked in the rear mirror and saw a veil of sadness in her eyes. I smiled. She noticed, and tried to smile back but it faded away. She was again under the attack of her own demons.

My God. I closed my eyes for a moment.