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Merry's Marauders (Book #2 ~ Scenic Route to Paradise, refreshed 2016 edition)

Page 5

by Andrea Aarons


  Reserved, Merry was eating and thinking when she finally said, “It seems you have a idea. I... well, none of us really ever considered a wartime survival scenario.” She was surprised by her voice. Merry had been mulling over their predicament but not planning to speak out. Sylvia stopped talking and they looked at her. They had found three cases of bottled water in the garage and Merry took a sip from her bottle before saying, “What I mean is, I know that there is probably going to be a breakdown in simple social structure and maybe the police will not be able to protect everyone and...” Merry began again. “What I really mean is, how can we take over a convalescent home without impunity? Look at us, Malak!” She sputtered. “We’ve broken into someone's house and we’re raiding their pantry.” Her hands fluttered and her eyes shifted about the room before she defiantly popped another peanut buttered cracker into her mouth.

  Mac’s left eyebrow shot up and he smiled grimly. Merry was sure he could read her intent - maybe even her thoughts, like she would read a child’s bedtime book.

  He took a drink, wiping his mouth on a dish towel which had lain folded on the kitchen table. He said, “My dear, I’ve explained to you already. During wartime one does life very differently to come out on the other side alive... Even you with your Bible upbringing, you must do life very differently... Remember that.” He grinned at her and then he looked back at Sylvia. “By the way, my friends call me Mac!”

  Sylvia was busy making up another peanut butter cracker. “Well Mac, the way I look at it, those old folks don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell anyway. We might as well move in and take over,” she said with a mouth full of food.

  Mac looked from one to the other and pushed away from the table. He said, “War changes everything.”

  Chapter 4 The Captain and his Crew

  Patsy served up the stew to Mrs. Ortiz, Consuela and Junior. A real problem the women discussed was water supply for cleaning - dishes and clothes. After looking at Junior’s blackened fingernails and smudged face, Patsy added, “And ourselves!” Connie had to admit that she always took water for granted - even in jail where so many other things were beyond her reach, water was aplenty.

  “Merry’s foreign friend said that we might have showers today... Eeeh, he said that last night remember?” Connie remarked wistfully.

  “Oh? Well, I mentioned that my Johnny had a generator in the shed. I told that fellow that it hadn’t been used for years but he said he would take a look at it today. I think he might have been referring to the generator to pump water from the well,” Mrs. Ortiz explained.

  Over lunch, the women got the story from Junior about Angel. She told him to wait in the old truck up the street until she came back. Junior waited all day. When it got dark and she hadn’t returned, he was hungry and cold and so, he went back to the halfway house. Looking in the windows, he realized no one was there and the doors were locked. Then he saw Mac coming up the driveway, so he took off running. Junior thought he was safe when he hopped back in the cab of the old Chevy, but Mac open the opposite door a minute later and climbed in next to him.

  Junior told Mac that he was Angel’s sister and Mac told Junior that he was Merry’s special friend from overseas.

  Mrs. Ortiz said, “I think he must have left that jacket with you... It’s not yours.” She recognized her late husband's jacket immediately.

  Junior nodded, his mohawk wagging as he looked over at the jacket. He replied, “Yeah, he gave it to me because I was so cold. Mac told me to come here today if my sister didn’t show up.”

  Mrs. Ortiz asked him how old he was. Junior had started on his third bowl of soup. He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his now filthy T-shirt before replying. “I’m going to be 14 on April Fools day.”

  Mrs. Ortiz looked to Patsy, who nodded. It was true then. This little fellow looking barely 10 years old was actually a teen! They watched him eating uninterrupted for a moment as both thought how easily children had fallen through the cracks in spite of the wealth and abundance found in America. Patsy knew well the quanity his small frame could consume and she dished more stew into his bowl.

  Mrs. Ortiz asked, “Young man, when’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

  He looked up from interacting with his meal, shrugging. “I don’t know.” Looking to Patsy he said, “Yesterday at breakfast. Later on, my sister was supposed to bring back a burger but she never showed. I think she met up with her boyfriend... He's such a loser.”

  The ladies eyed one another again. Patsy thought about Angel and then also, Luz Garcia who had been working downtown yesterday when life got crazy. Luz was due back at the halfway house around two or three in the afternoon the day before. Where was she now, Patsy wondered? As for Angel, the streets had been knotted with accidents and stand-still traffic since yesterday morning. It was highly unlikely that she got that burger or met up with her boyfriend.

  Mrs. Ortiz had more questions but her curiosity was checked when Consuela came in with Tina, Nikki and brother Lenny, in tow.

  “Look who I found!” Connie boasted. Tina and Nikki looked haggard from lack of sleep but they were more hungry than tired.

  Mrs. Ortiz’s focused shifted immediately to the newcomers and she poked Junior. “Get up and let them sit down,” she told him. He obeyed without delay although he hung on to his bowl.

  Nikki dropped into a chair at the kitchen table. “Patsy, this is my long lost brother, Lenny Brown... Lenny, meet the legendary Patsy Sena. And this is the obliging Mrs. Ortiz. We crashed her party... This is her house.”

  Patsy smiled and said, “Yes, we met over the phone but it nice to meet the brother of our newest roommate... I’m sorry it has to be under these circumstances.”

  Lenny greeted her and Mrs. Ortiz. “Sir, who are you?” he asked Junior.

  “Uh, oh... I’m Junior, Junior Tapia. I’m a brother too. My sister is Angel Tapia,” he said, astounded that anyone was speaking to him after having been invisible in plain sight for most of his life.

  Lenny stuck out his hand. “Glad I am not the only fellow amongst this gaggle of girls!”

  Junior didn’t know that gaggle meant a group of geese but he did know that Lenny was happy that another guy was around and he - Junior was that guy. With vigor born of self-importance, he shook Lenny’s outstretched hand.

  After eating, Tina and Nikki went to Mrs. Ortiz’s bedroom to sleep. Lenny wasn’t as tired as his sister or Tina. Neither one had slept. The women showed up at his motel room a few hours before sunrise. Lenny had been busy all day helping people and finally, when he realized the enormity and severity of the situation, he hiked through the confusion to a sporting goods store. Using most of his cash, as they wouldn’t take his credit card, he bought all that he could think of that would help him through the dire circumstances he found himself in. He didn’t know Santa Fe at all and it didn’t occur to Lenny that his sister would try to find him. He decided to spend one more night in the motel before striking off on his own. He paid his room in advance for a week. Lenny had never given thought to a societal meltdown but his parents and grandparents had warned him continually that Jews were always a target when the civilized world was being shaken by illness, invasion or economic hardship.

  Although, he didn’t take them seriously, he had taken the historical accounts to heart. Lenny decided not be one of the statistics reported in the annals of history concerning the uncalled for violence against Jews.

  He repacked the necessary items from his suitcase into his newly acquired backpack along with the other recent additions. He couldn’t go tramping about with the luggage he had brought on the airplane from New York. All the apples and several other food items from the motel lobby were in his bag too.

  Sylvia came in Mrs. Ortiz’s back door and saw the backpack and a small travel bag sitting on the floor. Lenny, Junior, Patsy and Mrs. Ortiz were in by the woodstove. Lenny was recounting their trip from the motel when she came in.

  “Where are the others?” Patsy asked. Sylvia tol
d her that they were outside at the VW. Mac wanted to hear the latest from the outside world on the radio. Mrs. Ortiz lifted herself from the recliner and hurried into the kitchen for bowls and silverware.

  Lenny stood and stretched. He had eaten quite enough and was now ready for a nap. Lenny was not a handsome fellow but his grey eyes fit well with his light brown hair and darker eyebrows. He had a three day beard and a smile that charmed women and men alike but he knew that.

  Merry came in the back door and after getting a bowl for soup turned into the warmer room. There was Junior and in spite of the halfway house deception concerning him, she was genuinely relieved to have him back.

  “Junior!” she said with a welcoming smile. He only nodded and continued past her on his way to the kitchen with his bowl refilled. She stopped in the doorway at the sight of Lenny. Who is this?

  Patsy seeing her questioning look, said, “They’re back! And it is a real bedlam out there. Wait till you hear the story.”

  Lenny was awestruck by Merry. Although she wore her now dusty bluejeans and well-worn, cowboy boots from yesterday and her pink hoody sweatshirt was blotched with stains, she remained gorgeous. Sylvia was getting her stew and Merry came forward hungrier than she could remember.

  Mrs. Ortiz came in with another empty bowl.

  Merry said, “So you’re Lenny? Well, glad to see you made it. Did you meet Sylvia? This is Sylvia Medina.” Sylvia simply nodded as she had determined not to be friendly to Nikki’s brother. Lenny shrugged and looked back at Merry grinning; the infatuation animating his face.

  Scooping stew from the large pot simmering on the woodstove, Mrs. Ortiz called into the kitchen, “Come here Junior. I want you to run a short errand for me.”

  He came in carrying his bowl. Merry was so glad to see the little fellow, especially after the huge mental beatdown she had given Patsy and all the halfway house roommates yesterday on her drive down to the airport - after finding out about him from Mrs. Ortiz. So, she smiled and nodded again but Junior didn’t respond.

  Lenny asked, “And you? Are you Mrs. Ortiz’s daughter? Granddaughter? Or...”

  Merry sat down cross-legged on the thick rug in front of the woodstove. Her face was pink with cold and her hands frigid but she looked up at Lenny startled. She laughed and said, “Sorry! I thought from our email exchange about Nikki getting into the halfway house you knew me!” She set her bowl down and unwound to stand up.

  Now Lenny looked surprised. He said, “You are Agnes Merriweather?”

  Before Merry answered, Mrs. Ortiz who was instructing Junior on taking the stew out to the VW for Mac said, “Now take this out to that foreign fellow. He’s in the blue car.”

  Lenny was facing the doorway and Merry saw that his eyes had moved beyond her to the kitchen. Mac just came in, she surmised. Later, she regretted her mischievousness. Knowing he was within earshot, Merry pressed forward to say, “Yes, Agnes is my name but my friends call me Merry.” She put out her hand to shake his and he looked again to her with his charming smile and shook her hand.

  “Well then Merry, nice to meet you,” he replied. She grinned like a monkey and in a fluid move sat down Indian style once again.

  “Oh, there you are. I was just going to send some soup out to you,” Mrs. Ortiz explained to Mac.

  Merry looked over her shoulder, twisting a bit so both men were before her. She said to Mac, “Nothing on the radio, I suppose? Anyway, Malak D’Almata meet Nikki’s brother, Lenny Brown. And Lenny, this Malak.” Then she looked back to the fire and bit her lip, hoping her emphasis on his full name would barb Mac.

  If her friendly words to Lenny bothered Malak, he didn’t show it. He said, “Thank you, my dear Mrs. Ortiz! And glad to have you on board, Lenny Brown.”

  Lenny went over to the archway and gave Mac a handshake. “On board? I hope this ship is actually going somewhere.”

  “It is and I’m the captain. We need to talk. Come on in here and you too,” Mac said. Merry resisted turning to see who he was speaking to but when she saw Junior’s face at the soup kettle light up, she realized it was the boy and not her. Junior quit ladling and went off to the kitchen. Apparently, being included with the men was more important than another bowl of stew.

  Patsy was watching her. “How did it go?” she asked Merry. Mrs. Ortiz had followed the men into the kitchen and her clanging about drowned out any conversation Merry had thought to overhear. Connie sat down a few feet from Merry. Sylvia was leaning against the wall behind the woodstove. Merry and Sylvia looked at each other.

  “You tell her, Sylvia,” Merry said. Merry was raised in South Africa for the most part and there had been an element of continual danger. She sensed her numbness to this horrific situation was due in part to her upbringing. Still, her family had always been buoyed up by their faith and many times by God’s direct and miraculous intervention. Pillaging empty houses, commandeering a convalescent home for the elderly and possibly being a wartime bride per the provisional laws of a minuscule country in the middle of the Adriatic Sea wasn’t in any sermon she ever heard. Sometime very soon, she and Patsy Sena needed to pow wow but Merry didn’t trust herself in front of the other women. If this was truly a time to lead new believers in their faith and others to salvation then Merry knew she must be “slow to speak, slow to anger and quick to listen” ... listen to God’s still small voice.

  Consuela seemed to take Sylvia’s disclosures in stride but Patsy continuously looked to Merry. After a few minutes, Merry said, “Patsy can you help me outside? Grab your coat.” They left Consuela and Sylvia talking and laughing.

  Merry’s coat had been tossed on a chair and now Mac was sitting in that chair.

  Merry was about to ask for her jacket when Mac told her to get him another bowl of stew.

  “Sure,” she said good-naturedly and then to Patsy, “You make a mean green chili stew and I thought your only talent was playing the guitar and singing.”

  Merry asked Lenny and Junior if they wanted more but they both were content and so she left, returning a minute later with Mac’s bowl, full. She set it down and when he said thank you, she asked for her jacket.

  “Where are you going?” he questioned. Patsy was standing in the laundry room waiting for her.

  Merry looked around the table and then to Patsy. “Outside,” she told him. They didn’t have a plan but she thought that they could sit out of the sun and wind, in the Bug.

  Mac looked over his shoulder to Patsy, “Don’t go far. It is going to be dangerous for you women in no time at all.” He pulled the jacket from behind him and handed it to Merry and asked again, “Where?”

  “To my car,” she answered trying not to appear exasperated.

  “Good and then you two come in and take a rest. Get some sleep because we have a very busy night before us,” he said over his shoulder.

  Pasty answered him. “Oh? Okay then,” she said casually but her face was stamped with concern as Merry came into the laundry room. Mac began speaking to Lenny again as the women went out the backdoor.

  “Patsy! What are we going to do?” Merry asked her as the passenger door closed, shutting them inside the VW.

  “Well, first let’s pray and then talk,” Patsy said. Merry let out a deep sigh.

  “I’ve been praying,” she insisted.

  Patsy said, “Well then, one more prayer should be easy for you since you are so practiced up.”

  Merry rolled her eyes and took Patsy’s outstretched hand. Patsy prayed and Merry finished with, “Amen.”

  Patsy said, “I know you don’t agree but these guys are God sent... They do all the dirty work and protect us to boot.”

  Merry said, “When I was breaking into the neighbor’s house... you heard Sylvia! I was doing the dirty work but besides that... Auntie Patsy what would Pastor say or my parents or God? What does God say? What is He saying? What is God expecting us to do? If I wasn’t so angry at Mr. Malak sent from D’Almata by my mother... my mother! I would cry right now.”
/>   “Oh now, that would do the trick - just cry or be angry or even better, do nothing! God spare us from Christians who do nothing... Wee, coco!” Patsy said with more voice than she expected. “Now we’re not going to get mad at each other. For now, as Mac said - we are on board together and he is the obvious captain... I like that. Someone is in charge. Leaders are to protect not misuse their flock or crew. I suppose crew is the right word. I’ll remind him of that when we have a meeting. That is what they were discussing at the table...about having a meeting.”

  Merry agreed. She took her keys out of her pocket and turn the battery on to listen to the radio.

  The earthquake was a 7.9 with the epicenter in the Missouri boot. It was felt as far as Columbus, Ohio and Wichita, Kansas. Mississippi river valley was the most affected with damage from Chicago to the New Orleans. Cities that had come immediately under foreign assault were several but the anchorman on the radio said that there were as many cities that were spared because of our quick defensive measures. Specific details were noticeably absent and when the message began again, apparently prerecorded, Patsy reach over and shut it off. Patsy opened her car door and Merry followed suit.

  The household settled into a mid-afternoon nap. It was the last time, they slept without posting a guard.

  Chapter 5 Commandeer

  Mrs. Ortiz made tortillas and Merry said they were actually better than her mother’s, although her mother always used whole-wheat flour. Then again, the absence of whole wheat was probably why these were better, she decided as she finished her third. Merry knew the old school Santa Feans also used lard rather than shortening but Merry couldn’t bring herself to ask Mrs. Ortiz if she did so. Knowing, if the older woman answered in the affirmative, Merry wouldn’t enjoy the homemade tortillas nearly as much. Bacon was one thing but lard...

 

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