The ground gently sloped in front of the cabin before dropping away to a narrow gully. The roof sagged and the earth seemed to be slowly swallowing the log walls. Other than the babbling stream and panting dogs, silence. No birds chirped or wind disturbed the trees. A slight vapor rose from the creek. A closer inspection showed it was a hot spring.

Shadow Woman visited the store once a month. She could have purchased batteries. Opening the back of the GPS, I confirmed I needed double A’s.

I tied my horse next to the mule and entered the house.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of smoke and dust. A single built-in bed, covers tossed into a heap, poked from the opposite wall. A small wood-burning stove on my left seemed to serve as both a heat source and cookstove. A sagging chair rested near the stove. To my right was a white-painted table with a mismatched chair. Shelves made up of orange crates were nailed to the wall. I moved to the shelves. On the bottom one was a Bible.

On impulse, I picked it up and opened it. Inside was written, To Mae, on your graduation from Sunday school, Pocatello Community Church, and the date. The pages were filled with scribbled notes. I looked up the verse Scott Thomas had written. Jeremiah 29:11. “‘For I know the thoughts that I think toward you,’ says the Lord, ‘thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.’” Mae had underlined it and written in the margin, Believe.

“Right now, Scott, I think the whole ‘strong and courageous’ verse is needed.” My voice sounded loud in the quiet cabin. “And a nudge toward batteries.”

After returning the Bible, I searched the shelves, then moved around the room. Mae had a whole lot of Old El Paso traditional refried beans and Spam with cheese. No batteries anywhere. I searched again, this time on hands and knees, looking under everything, tossing things to the floor, before standing.

“Flapp-er-doo-dle! What’s wrong with this lady! Is it too much to ask that she have at least one battery in the house!” I stomped to the door and opened it. I said to the horse, “And while we’re on the subject, what’s wrong with modern conveniences? Huh?” The horse didn’t look up from eating.

“Aaarrrrgh!” I ran outside and yelled at the sky. “I don’t know where I am, I don’t know where to go, people are dying, and all I ask, God, is for one stupid battery!”

God didn’t answer.

Breathing heavily, I waited for my heart rate to climb down out of the stratosphere. Look on the bright side. With Spam and refried beans, I wouldn’t starve. Just die from the lard and sodium phosphates.

The dogs had watched when I started my rant, their mouths agape. Now they turned back to peering over the gully.