(Yes, we still buy CDs, and not from Amazon.)
And then, then, there was a small, er, hiccup, in our plans: as i stood in front of the mirror, meticulously applying eyebrow pencil, It Happened.
First, i felt the walls shake a bit. Then i heard the windows rattling. And i looked up at the ceiling with irritation at our new (and extraordinarily loud) upstairs neighbor and thought, really? Really.
But it was when the floor began to sort of shift sideways under my feet and my heartbeat quickened to roughly nine hundred beats per minute, that i realized that this was An Earthquake. And a Big One. Especially after i moved to the bedroom doorway to wait it out and it didn't stop. Even more especially when i felt myself getting really hot and heard a big crash! across the courtyard and people shouting in fear, while the building itself began to sway amidst its (flimsy?) support beams and stuccoed walls, doing a fantastic impression of one of those wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube men:
At this point i had moved to the front doorway; down the hall i could hear people yelling and running, panicking. The building was still shaking. i felt extremely nauseous. It had probably only been 10 or 15 seconds or so, but it felt like it was amplifying, and that it would never end. i heard another crash somewhere and realized that i should probably not be inside the building anymore. The underside of the hallway on the 3rd floor above me seemed to yawn and stretch away as if in a bad dream, and i ran pell-mell down the hall and broke right to the nearest stairway exit.
The shitty thing about this complex is how huge and maze-like it is: i have seen many a pizza-delivery guy wandering aimlessly around these beige corridors. And right now the only thought on my mind was that i wanted to get the fuck out, and preferably in one piece. i wanted to get to Nat. i was hoping fervently that he was okay in the cafe (lots of huge windows in that place), and thanking heck that he wasn't at school that day, on the 7th floor of the Humanities building, because i would have been insane with worry.
As i reached the stairwell, i opened the door and stood in the frame. i saw two neighbors nearby, standing in their front doorways looking a bit startled and peaked (in sharp contrast to my abject terror). After ten or so more seconds (an eternity?), the shaking finally stopped, but now i felt like i was made of jelly. My hands were shaking and i was breathing heavily. My heart was hammering in my chest, and i was still holding my eyeliner. We all looked in each other's eyes and finally the woman said, "we should go outside now. NOW." She and the twenty-something gentleman (whose eyes were tearing up) across the hall began to move towards me. "Come on," she said. "Let's go."
i shook my head back and forth because i realized i needed some things: my keys, my inhaler, some shoes. i ran full speed back to the apartment (i remember thinking that i might never see those 2 people – or anyone – ever again) and grabbed those things, plus my big hoodie sweater, and booked it back to the exit. People were running all over the place. i heard a lady crying somewhere upstairs, and a guy laughing nervously outside in the courtyard. i was muttering to myself (...Jesus fucking CHRIST*...) while in the stairwell i caught up with a small Mexican woman who kept saying dios mio, dios mio, dios mio... She and i waited on the steps outside while other people exited the building excitedly. Others began to materialize on their balconies, and we all looked at each other numbly, wide-eyed. Expletives could be heard all over the place.
Did that really just happen? Is everything okay? Are we normal?
A few minutes passed. The Mexican woman was upset because her cell phone wouldn't work (yikes!) and she just really wanted to call her son in Fresno. i gave her a small hug and we agreed that he was probably just fine– that we were fine as well. i felt like i was going to pass out at any second and was rooted to the spot, holding open the exit door right outside the building. A young male nurse came onto the grounds through the alleyway, looking calm and collected. A few old folks came shuffling down the stairs, and thanked me for holding the door open (as if could move, anyway). A cab screeched up in the alleyway and the passenger threw some money at the driver, then bolted up the stairs 3 at a time. Maybe he had an elderly parent living here, or a girlfriend or boyfriend, maybe even a spouse and a kid. Finally i blinked at the sound of an ambulance somewhere in the distance. There were no fires burning, no one was crying or screaming, and the skyline was still intact. So i decided to head downstairs to see if Nat was okay (oh please oh please oh please). Thankfully i saw him coming down the alleyway just as i had the thought. This immense relief only made me feel more unstable, and i fought the urge to sit down and fade away.
He came over and we hugged fiercely as people began to go back inside. i wouldn't budge, however, so we hung out on the landing a bit longer. We saw a little grey cat with a collar and only half a tail making good time away from the building, crawling through the ivy on the other side of the fence with his belly low to the ground. i realized that this frightened feline may never make it back home, so we tried (in vain) to get him over to where we were, making little soothing sounds and gestures. He meowed back at us from time to time, but never stopped moving away. Poor little guy: i hope he's back home safe and sound.
Nat'd left all of his things down in the cafe, so i waited while he ran back to get everything. We went back upstairs together, and being back in the apartment made me want to throw up. i told Nat that i had to get out of the building for the rest of the day, and he understood. i dressed hurriedly while he looked the whole shebang up on the internet, and i called my folks just to preempt the worried phone calls. We'd all experienced the destructive Loma Prieta quake back in '89, so i knew that they would be wondering about us if they heard any news.
We grabbed our bikes and left the house, heading for the beach. Many people were out in their front yards, talking animatedly. We stopped by a liquor store and bought a box of Junior Mints (necessary) and a pack of cigs (terrible, i know, but also massively necessary). We smoked a cigarette on a bench overlooking the sea and for a minute it felt like everything would always be alright.
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Here is a link to the US Geological Survey's website, for our region. (this will change, of course, but for now you can still see all of the recent activity.) That giant box in the lower right is the 7.2 that we felt on Sunday afternoon. And all of those little boxes around it are the aftershocks. More and more keep popping up. Statistically i know that another big one will (probably, most likely) not hit near here, not for years and years, but it still doesn't feel good. Honestly, i am more worried right now for all the folks living 100 miles south of us, where the epicenter was, and where the infrastructure is older and not as sound. i wish them all the best.
*Happy Easter!
