by N. C. Reed
Now she was almost bouncing up and down waiting for everyone to get there so they could leave. She had to fight against the urge to try and get everyone together faster.
Finally it was time to go and she clambered aboard the big six-wheel vehicle that would be taking them to Jordan. Time seemed to move even slower on the ride in, something she didn't think possible at this point. Arriving in Jordan was somewhat underwhelming as she noticed the damage at the edge of town from the fire as well as how almost deserted the small community looked. It got marginally better near the center of town where work was being done to make the buildings usable again after the winter.
It was all she could do to wait for the door to open and for Titus Terry to step down before she was bailing out behind him.
“Where's my mom?” she asked excitedly, looking around.
“Uh, Mattie,” Sienna came up to her. “Remember we told you that you might have to look for her. And that the mayor might be able to help. We don't know where she's staying.”
“Why didn't you ask?” Mattie demanded.
“You need to dial that attitude down, Mattie,” Greg warned suddenly. “You knew everything we knew last night. Your mother left before we could ask her any of that or even tell her we could bring you here today. That's not something we had any control over. Now . . . ” he trailed off at the sight of a familiar face.
“Here comes Mayor Pickett,” he nodded in the older man's direction. “He may know where she's staying, or at least know someone who does.”
“Morning young people,” Pickett actually smiled. “Good to see you.”
“Mayor Pickett, this is Mattie Simmons,” Greg introduced. “Betty Simmons daughter.”
“Ah, yes,” Pickett shook hands with Mattie. “She had mentioned you before, quite despondent over you having been so far away from home. She will no doubt be delighted to see you home!”
“Where is she?” Mattie asked eagerly.
“Well, I don't actually know at the moment,” Pickett admitted. “She was supposed to be helping finish the last little bit of planting we had to do today, so she's likely down this way,” he pointed south. “There is a large field down there that still had a few acres to be planted. If she's-,”
“Thank you!” Mattie didn't let him finish before running off in the direction he pointed. Pickett watched her go before turning his gaze back to Greg and Sienna.
“I take it you didn't tell her?” he asked.
“She doesn't listen overly well,” Sienna admitted. “We tried to, but Mattie only seems to hear what she pleases.”
“That's a shame,” Pickett sighed.
***
Mattie saw several people working in the field when she got there, She paused at the edge of the field to survey the workers. She grew more and more on edge as she failed to find her mother, but finally a familiar figure stood up near the end of the field. Mattie took off at once, running toward her.
“Stay off that plowed ground!” more than one person yelled, and a shame-faced Mattie had to skirt around the field to reach her mother. She had expected her mother to be delighted to see her, evening run to meet her, but that didn't happen. As she got nearer she could see the empty expression on her mother's face.
Betty had stopped working as she saw someone running her way. Recognition slowly came to her as she realized, finally, that this was her daughter.
“Mattie, is that you?” she called.
Mattie heard her mother calling and was a bit nonplussed that her call seemed . . . casual. Not really excited at all despite the long separation and near miracle of her being home again. Mattie slowed to a walk, catching her breath and giving her time to get herself together before reaching her mother.
“Mom, I'm home!” she exclaimed, trying to liven her mother's mood.
“I can see that, dear,” Betty smiled tiredly. “How was your trip?”
How was her trip? That was what her mother chose to say when they were speaking for the first time in months?
“It was long and difficult, mom,” Mattie replied honestly. “I'm so glad to see you,” she hugged her mother tightly.
“I'm delighted to see you as well, sweetheart,” Betty returned the embrace. “You look good,” she smiled a little brighter.
“No I don't,” Mattie scoffed. “I look horrible, but I think that's the standard any more. Where's Dad?” she asked, looking around.
“Mattie, you know your father was in Nashville when all this started,” Betty's voice had a slightly chiding tone to it when she replied. “He was buying rock today for the work on Doctor David's home in Lewiston. He dropped you off at school on his way out, remember?”
And finally Mattie realized that her mother might not be all right.
“Mom, I was away at college, remember?” she tried to grin in order to take any sting away from her words. “I was actually in Houston, Texas when the lights went out. I had to walk part of the way home before I caught a ride.”
“Houston?” Betty frowned. “I thought you were going to school in Memphis.”
“I was at a game, Mom,” Mattie told her. “An away game. Anyway, did you say Dad was in Nashville when all this started?”
“Yes,” Betty nodded. “He should be home any time, though,” she added. “He's been gone entirely too long already. I just finished my work here, so what do you say we go and look for him!”
“Sure, Mom,” Mattie fought to keep from crying. Whatever her mother had been through, it had damaged her psyche.
“Sure thing,” she smiled weakly. “Let’s do that. You can show me what's happening around here while I've been gone.”
***
Tandi Maseo had not expected to find many possible candidates for medics among the town, and he wasn't disappointed. He did find a nurse, though, along with a first responder from the local volunteer fire department. Two were better than nothing he decided.
“We’ll be in town probably twice per week,” he told them. “Meanwhile, since you both have already had some training I’ll be bringing you a kit when I come back next time. It's just the basics, but it should help.
“This should go without saying, but our resources are stretched thin. The bags I'm bringing you are not a bottomless pit. We can't give out band-aids for boo-boos, and we can't afford to treat headaches or backaches with the few pain relievers we have. Getting new supplies is difficult to impossible right now, so everything we use has to be used where it will do the most good. The key to everything right now is hygiene. Washing hands, keeping wounds clean, avoiding infection and the spread of any illness has to be our top priority.”
“We've been trying to encourage that, but our soap and other supplies are pretty much gone,” the nurse told him. “We managed to save a little bit of soap to use for serious cuts, but that's all we have left that I know of. Same goes for hand sanitizer. We still have a small amount, but save it to clean our own hands before treating a patient. To prevent the spread of disease and prevent infection in wounds.”
“Good move,” Tandi nodded in approval. “All of those precautions have no doubt helped you. I should be able to bring you some sani wipes that will help you keep your hands clean. I also have a few gloves, but you’ll need to restrict them to wounds where there's blood so that the supply will last longer.
“I wish I could tell you that the supply situation would improve, but I honestly don't think it will,” he decided to be as honest as possible. “That means we have to be judicious in where and how we use what we have. We're going to have to learn to make things for ourselves from here on I'm afraid. To make do with what we can come up with from our own resources. But my compliments to you both. It sounds like you've done the best you could with what you had to work with. Well done.”
“When will you be back?” the nurse asked him.
“I think in three days, give or take,” Tandi replied. “I think that's still a little fluid because there are other factors in the works, but I feel confident that if I'm off th
e mark, it won't be more than two days. In the meantime, I’ll leave these two books with you,” he handed a manual to each one, “for you to study. They aren't the same book, so when you finish, exchange them and read both. Please try to keep them in good shape. I have very few sets, and hopefully we’ll be able to train more people eventually. You don't have to finish them before we return, but if you can and want to, go ahead. No penalty for reading ahead,” he grinned.
“For today, tell me where you get your water, and how you make it safe for drinking.”
***
“I'm not going to lie to any of you,” Greg told the assembled prospective police officers. “Our new situation has made everything harder, and that especially includes any type of law enforcement. The infrastructure that supports law enforcement is pretty much gone. We have few vehicles, very few working radios, none of which can reach very far or summon help as we once could, and little to no backup. We are as alone as the lawmen of the old west once were.
“That is not an invitation to be John Wayne, however,” he warned them, and was rewarded with grins and snorts of humor. “Never forget that you are essentially alone, save for the people to your right and left. There's no Sheriff's patrol to call, no Highway Patrol, no state or federal help. That means you have to be smart. Know what battles to fight and which ones to try and contain.
“Know the limit to what you can do, both as individuals and as a group, and stay within that limit. Once things are more settled, you may have the limited option of calling for some help, but that option will have to be reserved for times when you are facing something you absolutely cannot face on your own. And never forget that the available help is few in number and often far away, so don't automatically assume you're going to get help right away, or at all. They may well be tied up somewhere else.”
“But we are trying to build a network of support, even it's just a few small communities in this area. We will help each other in times of trouble or trial and that will help us all get the job done, and get through even the worst of times.”
“For today, we're going to go through a standard familiarization of what you can expect, and what is expected of you. It should go without saying that you are expected to be professional and to resist the temptation to try and impress your will on others. That is not your mission. Your mission is to keep the peace. We were once known as peace officers, and that was why.”
“We're going to get back to that, now. Because instead of enforcing every tiny law that some legislator has cooked up, we’ll instead be maintaining the peace in our communities. Stopping fights, preventing thefts, controlling drunks and minimizing any danger to the community. That is your mission.”
“So, we’ll start with basic safety for yourselves. As you're working, remember that . . . ”
***
“How's it coming?” Clay asked his nephew.
“We can do it,” Deuce said at once. “We've got everything set up the way it's supposed to be, and we've got plenty of materials. Once we harvest the seed we need, we can start making bio-diesel. As soon as it starts to come in, we can mix it with the actual diesel we have and make it go further.”
“Is it going to damage anything?” Clay asked, frowning.
“It shouldn't,” Leanne shook her head, book still clutched to her chest. “Everything we've read on the subject indicates that this will actually function just as well as actual diesel. That means that the farm equipment, Daddy's equipment, the Cougars and those new armored car thingies will all be able to keep running so long as we can keep producing the bio-diesel.”
“Outstanding,” Clay rubbed his hands together. “That might be the best news I've heard in a while.”
“We also figured a way to keep producing the moonshine using the sugar beet crop,” Deuce told him proudly. “It will lower the proof a bit, but nowhere near enough to keep it from working. Again, the best move is to use it to thin down the actual gas we have remaining, but even when that's gone, the shine will work as fuel.”
“That we’ll have to watch, however,” Leanne added. “The engine will run somewhat hotter using the undiluted alcohol, which could damage the pistons and heads. The upside is that any gunk that would normally accumulate in the engine thanks to detergent fuels will be burned completely away, and there won't be any future build up while you use the alcohol.”
“You two just keep increasing your worth around here,” Clay beamed and the twins preened under his praise. “I don't know what we'd do without you,” he added honestly.
“Neither do we,” both said in unison.
***
After two hours of walking through Jordan, Mattie Simmons was confused. Her mother had seemed as if she was unstable at first, but after talking to Mattie about what she had gone through to get home, she was much better. It was almost as if getting Mattie back had helped her reconnect with reality.
“It was a hard winter,” Betty told her. “But I managed to get through okay. Since it was just me, our canned goods and what not were more than enough for me. If not for the fire, I'd still be at home and probably doing reasonably well. But, the fire did come and I barely managed to stay ahead of it. I loaded everything I could into the wheelbarrow and your father's game cart and started for town. Once I arrived, I went to Freda's place, over on the east end of town? Freda wasn't there, but I knew where she kept a key and let myself in.”
“Freda hasn't returned, and I suppose after all this time she isn't going to,” she admitted sadly. “Still, I've kept her house and her things clean and orderly, just in case,” she smiled. “Her house has been ransacked for food, but oddly nothing else was missing. There were blankets still, and bedding, which surprised me. I've managed to make myself comfortable despite the conditions.”
“What about Dad?” Mattie asked.
“He was in Nashville,” Betty looked even more sad now. “He had gone to place a rock order for custom work in Lewiston. He'd have to have it delivered he said, since his truck wouldn't haul all of it. He may have been on his way home when it happened, I don't know. I had heard the radio broadcast and tried to call him to see if he'd heard it, but by then all the circuits were jammed. There was nothing else I could do. Your phone went straight to voice mail when I tried it.”
“Probably in a team meeting,” Mattie nodded. “Phones not allowed. We have to leave them in our rooms or with the desk.”
“Well, anyway,” Betty smiled weakly. “You're all caught up with me.”
“I hooked up with a convoy coming this way,” Mattie told her. “Coming to the Sanders' Farm of all places. They gave me a ride, and then from there on to the house. I found everything gone and feared the worst. Neither of your vehicles were there and everything was destroyed so . . . I didn't know what to do.”
“My car was in the shop,” Betty nodded. “I was supposed to get it back the next day.”
“I've been staying with the Sanders since then,” Mattie continued. “They're doing okay so far, and helping as many people as they can, including here. But when I found out you were here, I came with them to see you.”
“I'm so very glad you did,” her mother hugged her tightly.
“So what do you want to do now?” Mattie asked her.
“What do you mean?” Betty frowned.
“Well, you can come with me to live there,” Mattie said. “Mrs. Sanders has a seed garden in the works along with several greenhouses. I've been helping her the last few days, but you could take that over while I do something else. If you want to, I mean,” she added. “And once harvest starts, they’ll be canning and drying and dehydrating everything they can for the winter. You know as much about that as anyone I know of.”
“I can't imagine they want anyone else coming there,” Betty scoffed. “And while I'm not nearly as comfortable as I once was, I'm not too bad off. Honestly, I'm far better off than many.”
“I've said the same thing,” Mattie nodded. “I had just a couple changes of clothing and my uniforms. T
hey were pretty threadbare by the time I got here. Abby loaned me some clothing and Shane and the others gave me some uniform clothing that fits me, including a pair of boots. None of them had to do that, they just did.”
“Franklin George has been telling anyone who will listen that the Sanders are protecting a child molester,” Betty frowned. “I don't know that we should be near that kind of thing.”
“Well, I was there when all that happened,” Mattie declared. “And it's a complete fabrication. There's an Army doctor in the group I rode here with and she examined the baby immediately after Mrs. George made the accusation. She absolutely declared there had been no such assault on the child. Mrs. George lied about it, got caught at it, and eventually admitted to it. It was all because of her hatred of homosexuals.”
“I would never have imagined her to do something like that,” Betty admitted.
“No one else did either,” Mattie agreed. “If it hadn't been for some quick thinking by Clayton Sanders and Greg Holloway, she might have caused even more of a ruckus than she did.”
“Someone could have gotten hurt like that,” Betty nodded.
“So knowing that, do you still want to stay here rather than go to the Sanders' farm?” Mattie asked.
“What do you want to do, dear?” Betty countered.
“I don't . . . I honestly don't have a preference,” Mattie admitted. “I haven't been the best guest out there and I doubt they’ll forget that any time soon. It's a long story,” she shook her head as her mother began to speak. “Regardless, so long as I can be where you are, I'm happy. I'd have to go and collect my things, which means I'd be gone a few more days. I'd at least like to see where I'd be living, though, if we stay here. Is that what you want to do?” she asked.
“I am comfortable where I am,” Betty admitted. “And I've made a good contribution to the community so far, even before the gardening. If they're really going to reestablish the police force to increase safety then . . . yes, I think I'd prefer to stay here.”
“Well, let’s have a look, then,” Mattie smiled.
