Polar Storm

by Deborah D. Moore

  The closest hardware store conveniently had a small nursery attached to it that sold a variety of vegetables. He came to find out that was very common during the beginning of planting season; vegetable plants were for sale everywhere. Still, the various names of tomatoes and peppers confused him.

  “Can I help you find something?” a clerk asked.

  “Yes. I live in the woods and have limited space that might be suitable for growing, so I would like to do a small raised bed and maybe a container or two. What would you suggest?”

  The older woman grinned. “Tomatoes and peppers would do well in containers, especially since our growing season is so short; if we have an early frost, a container is portable and you can bring it inside. What were you thinking for the raised bed?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure. I like green beans, onions, lettuce, greens,” Parker replied.

  “How big is your raised bed?”

  “I don’t have one yet. Do you sell kits?”

  The clerk enlisted the help of another worker, and they loaded up a four foot by eight foot raised bed kit, a couple of large pots, plants and seeds, tomato support cages, and a dozen bags of soil. Parker was surprised how much dirt cost. He went back to the cabin excited about his new project.

  

  Parker worked the rest of the afternoon putting together the raised bed and filling it with bag after bag of the garden soil. The structure itself was easy with all pieces pre-cut and holes pre-drilled. He was halfway through the pile of bags when he decided to fill the two containers before he ran out of dirt.

  “The clerk said these two tomato plants should be planted right away so I better do them first,” he thought out loud. He dumped one bag in each of the deep containers and then opened a third bag and divided it between the two. The soil was dry and fluffy, and he was able to plant the tomatoes by scooping with his bare hands and then shoving the tomato cage into the dirt. After putting the remaining bags of soil in the raised bed, he read the seed packets and planted those too.

  Satisfied with his work, he pumped a pitcher of water in the kitchen sink and took it out to water his new plants.

  Parker frowned. “It’s going to take forever to water everything this way. I wonder how people did it before they had faucets.”

  

  He sat in the rocker on the porch, making notes about his new garden when a light drizzle started. Watching the rain drip off the edges of the metal roof, he had an idea. After retrieving the new plastic trash can he found in the kitchen, he placed it under the corner of the eave where the rain dripped the most.

  Chapter Five

  Parker found it easier to charge his laptop and his cellphone with the car charger—with the car sitting in the driveway. Of course, if he wanted to use his cell phone, he still had to drive somewhere, and that was starting to cost a lot in gas. True to his word, Cliff kept the debit card generously refilled at the beginning of the month. Parker now had to start budgeting to make it to the next refill, something he’d never had to do before. While the truck continued to run charging his phone, he sat on the front porch with his freshly charged laptop and started listing what he spent money on.

  “Hi, Parker,” David called out so he wouldn’t startle his new neighbor again.

  “Hi, David. Come on and have a seat, I’m about done,” Parker replied, surprised to see the young man. The boy looked so nervous the last time he figured he’d never see him again. He closed the computer, realizing he was actually glad to have some company.

  “Can I ask what may seem like a silly question?” David said.

  “Sure.”

  “Why is your truck running?”

  “I’m charging my cellphone,” Parker replied.

  David burst out with an uncontrolled laugh.

  “Why is that funny?” Parker thought he should be offended, but he wasn’t. He was learning so many new things lately, things he should already know; he quickly understood this might be another learning experience.

  “I’m sorry I laughed. I guess I’m so used to plugging things in to charge, that it’s kind of weird to me to do it with the car and not going anywhere.” David quickly controlled his snickering. “I know we are both off the power grid, but don’t you have a generator?”

  “A generator …” Parker rolled that around in his head. “Can I make a confession?” When David nodded, Parker went on. “I haven’t a clue what I’m supposed to do here, or how to make it easier for myself. Shit, I just figured out the shower contraption!” He slouched in his seat.

  “The shower contraption? Can I see it?”

  Parker led David in for a tour of the log cabin. David looked around the kitchen area first, opening cupboards, the refrigerator. He pumped the handle at the sink a few times until water gushed out, and he smiled. Turning, he spotted the cookstove and nodded with a questioning frown. Then Parker showed him the bathroom with the shelf for the shower.

  “Now that is truly ingenious,” David said, admiring the unit. “You have everything you need, all the modern conveniences, with off-grid work to use them. Why are you still driving into town nearly every day?”

  “To get food,” Parker said, as if it was self-evident. “And to do laundry.”

  “I understand the laundry thing, but why not stock up on food once a week?” David asked.

  Parker didn’t say anything. He opened the door on the small refrigerator and pulled out two beers and went back to the porch. He popped the tab on one and held it out to David who took it. He opened the other and took a long swallow.

  “Explain to me what you meant,” Parker almost demanded.

  “About what? Stocking up?”

  “No, about having all the modern conveniences, with off-grid work to use them,” Parker snapped.

  “If you know what to do with what you have, you can live quite comfortably,” David said, a bit perplexed.

  “Continue,” Parker growled.

  “It’s like the shower: once you figured it out, you now have the convenience of a modern luxury,” David said. “Your whole cabin is built to be self-sustaining.”

  “Self-sustaining,” Parker mumbled. “You seem to know a lot about this. How long have you lived out here?”

  David took a sip of the beer. His first beer had been only a few weeks ago and he wasn’t quite sure if he liked the taste. “We moved out here to live only a few years ago, although we would spend summers here for as long as I can remember.

  “I don’t recall when my parents started to teach me the function of being off the grid, maybe because it was built into what we did every day. When I was about twelve, the summer before I started college, my mom taught me how to cook. I used to think that maybe she had wanted a girl instead of me. Later, I realized she was only trying to teach me to be independent.”

  “Wait, you started college when you were twelve years old?” Parker asked in disbelief.

  “Ah, yeah, I’m kind of a genius.” David was obviously embarrassed. Knowing it would be better to get this all out up front, he went on. “I graduated when I was fourteen and had my Masters in computer sciences when I was fifteen. That’s when my mom got sick and we moved out here permanently.”

  Parker was feeling stupid and inadequate next to this boy-wonder. He had to let that go. “Can you teach me?”

  “About what?”

  “About living like this.”

  David thought long enough that Parker figured he was going to say no and it made him angry. “You’re trying to figure out if it would be worth it; would I be able to learn; that maybe I’m too stupid. Well, David, I’m not stupid! I may be ignorant in this circumstance, but I’m not stupid, and there is a big difference between the two!”

  “You’re right,” David said calmly. “Ignorance is the lack of knowledge; stupidity is being incapable of obtaining that knowledge. I don’t consider you
stupid, Parker.”

  “Then you’ll teach me?” Parker said hopefully.

  “Okay, but you have to pay me,” David said with a grin.

  “How much?” Parker was wary.

  “Every day I’m here helping you, you fix me lunch,” David answered.

  “This will be okay with your dad?”

  “Oh, he won’t mind; he’s away on a business trip,” David lied.

  Chapter Six

  “That’s it? Fix you lunch?”

  “Yes, and that too will be part of your … lessons: learning to cook.” David took on a sly smile.

  “How do you know I can’t cook?” Parker asked defiantly.

  “I saw what is in your refrigerator and pantry, Parker. You can’t cook—let me amend that: you don’t know how to cook. We can fix that.”

  “Oh.”

  “Now, I also have to ask if you plan on staying here all winter,” David broached the question that was nagging him.

  “Yeah, that was part of the agreement with my stepdad: I stay here a full year,” Parker admitted.

  “Okay, so now it’s the middle of June and you haven’t started on your wood. When were you planning on doing that?” David pushed.

  Parker stared at the empty woodshed and sighed. “I hadn’t thought about it. Don’t I have plenty of time? Winter is months away.”

  “Yes, winter is coming and if you’re not ready for it, the woods can kill you. It gets cold enough to need heat here around the end of October, sometimes sooner.” He followed Parker’s look toward the shed. “It’s going to take a lot of time and a lot of work to fill that. Lesson one: get started.”

  “Okay, so what are my options for putting enough wood in that shed?” Parker asked sincerely.

  “People go into the woods and find dead trees, downed trees or they cut them down. Or they have a logger bring logs to them, and then they cut them into bolts and split them to size. Considering the time frame you have to work with, Parker, I think option three might be the best for you.”

  “And what is option three?”

  “There’s a guy in the area, Keith Kayne, who can bring you a load of wood, already cut and split. All you have to do is stack it. It costs more though,” David explained. “This is how he makes his living.”

  “How do I get a hold of this guy?”

  

  Parker stood unmoving as he watched Keith back his dump truck up close to the wood shed and unload.

  “That’s a lot of wood,” he whispered, overwhelmed by the pile.

  “Don’t worry, when you’re done with this load, I’ll come back with more,” Keith assured him.

  “More? Will all that even fit in that little shed?” Parker still hadn’t moved.

  Keith chuckled, and then realized Parker was serious. “Have you ever stacked wood before?”

  “No.”

  “Let me give you a ten-minute lesson,” Keith offered. “Let’s toss a few dozen pieces into the shed to get them closer to where we need them.” Once that was done, he knelt down and lined up the cut wood at the very back of the shed, and instructed Parker to do the same from the other end until they met in the center.

  “When the logs are neat and orderly, they take up much less room and will make a sturdy rick,” Keith said.

  “What’s a rick?” Parker asked.

  “It’s what a stacked pile is called when it’s stacked right. Now watch how I do this second row.” Parker tossed more logs closer to Keith and watched how he turned the end pieces opposite to the ones below it. “Flat pieces on the ends prevent the logs from rolling and destabilizing the rest.”

  Parker tossed wood and Keith made four neat rows. Then he stood and stretched his back.

  “Why don’t you use the side of the shed to keep the wood from … rolling?” Parker asked.

  “That’s a good question; it shows you’re paying attention. The shed is to keep the wood protected and dry, that’s all; the ricks should be free standing and not put pressure on the walls. Too much pressure could collapse the shed, and that would be a real pain in the ass in the middle of winter,” he said, chuckling again. “Think you’ve got the hang of it now?”

  “I think so. Thank you for your patience. I have a lot to learn. Here’s your money.” Parker handed him an envelope filled with cash.

  Keith stuck it in his pocket without looking at it.

  “I’ll be back with another load in a week,” he promised.

  “You really think I’ll need more?” Parker questioned.

  Keith laughed. “Oh yeah. Maybe even another one after that.”

  “I may have to wait for a third load. I’m getting kind of close to the end of the month.” He looked embarrassed. He had never not had access to as much money as he needed.

  “Then you pay me when you’ve got the money. It’s more important that you get your wood put up as soon as you can so it can dry. Most people that burn wood are done by now. Oh, and Parker, get some better gloves, leather would be good.” Keith climbed into his big diesel dump truck and rolled out of the driveway, leaving Parker stunned that the man would trust someone to pay him later, someone he doesn’t even know. This kind of community would take some getting used to, he thought, picking up a few pieces of wood and tossing them into the shed. Then he looked at his new dark brown cotton gloves and noticed they were already starting to tear. Another thing he had learned was to add something to his ongoing list as soon as it came to mind; he went inside and jotted gloves down on the notepad.

  

  David walked up to the pile as Parker was coming out of the house.

  “I see Keith has been here,” he said, grinning.

  “Yeah, nice guy; he even showed me how to stack the wood.” Parker looked at the deep pile of split wood. “He thinks I might need two more loads before I’m done.”

  David nodded. “He’s the expert. My dad always gets just one load, mainly for the fireplace. Well, let’s get to work!”

  “You’re going to help?”

  “Sure, the quicker we get this load done, the sooner we can go onto something else. But, Parker, you need better gloves.”

  Parker laughed. “Yeah, that’s what Keith said. I already added it to my next shopping list.”

  They worked quietly for an hour, one tossing while the other stacked, and then reversing to keep their muscle activity varied.

  “Time for a break,” David announced. Parker sighed and sat on the porch steps, breathing heavy, while David got them each a glass of cold water. “I added plastic cups to your list. Glass outside isn’t a good idea.”

  “Now that’s something that makes sense.” Parker drank deeply, and then poured the rest over the back of his neck. When they were finished, he put the two glasses back in the house.

  “I think it’s time we check out your barn, see what’s in there.”

  The large brown barn had a roll-up door in front and a man-door on the side. They unlocked the big door from inside and lifted it open for more light.

  “Way cool!” David said. “It looks like the heirs didn’t check out the place before they sold it to you. Look at all the stuff!” He walked up to the neatly organized wall of shelves. “Hey, there are even snow-shoes! You’ll need them.”

  The first shelf started four feet high and underneath, in the open space, was a lawn mower, a snow-blower, and a small boxy looking thing on wheels.

  “What’s that?” Parker asked, pointing to the last item.

  “That’s your new best friend, Parker: a generator!” He grabbed the handles and tugged it into the middle of the bay. “First thing you have to do is take it to a shop and have them change the oil, the plug, and give it a good going over. It looks like it hasn’t been used in a while, but sitting in the barn getting dusty can be deceiving. Back the truck up here and let’s put it in.” After
they secured it in the bed of the truck, David ushered Parker back into the barn.

  “While we’re at it, let’s put the snow-blower in too. You will need this more than the gennie, and they can go to the same shop.”

  Parker looked skeptical but agreed with David’s suggestions; the boy hadn’t been wrong yet.

  “Old man Smith liked to tinker it seems,” David went on. Along another wall was a short workbench, with tools hanging from hooks on a pegboard: hammers, various screwdrivers, and a multitude of things that confused Parker. A plastic box of drawers sat against the wall, filled with nails and screws, nuts and bolts. A tool chest sat on a shelf underneath the bench right beside a chainsaw.

  “There’s a lot here,” Parker said.

  “Well, one thing is for certain: you won’t have to buy any tools!” David was ecstatic with their find. He set the chainsaw in the back of the truck. “It’s always a good idea to have an expert check over this type of equipment before you use it. You have no idea what kind of maintenance it did or didn’t have before. Now let’s do another hour of stacking and then drop this stuff off in town.”

  “What about lunch?” Parker questioned with a snicker. “Your pay, remember?”

  “You can buy me lunch in town,” David replied, smirking.

  

  Following David’s directions, Parker pulled into the asphalt lot next to the Lakeshore Tool Store.

  Parker carried the chainsaw in, while David stayed outside and supervised the removal of the snow machine and the generator.

  “I’d like to get a couple pieces of equipment serviced,” he politely said to the middle-aged man behind the counter. “This and the two outside being unloaded.”

  “And what’s wrong with them?” the service clerk asked.