by Mark Goodwin
“I’m glad we’re far away from all that.” Kate placed the biscuits on the coffee table.
Pritchard shook his head. “Asheville ain’t but thirty miles from here.”
“Asheville is quite a bit smaller than Seattle, or Atlanta where we’re from.”
“It’s big enough if all them hippies and junkies come this way. Lord knows we don’t need any more of ‘em than we done got.” Pritchard picked up a biscuit and bit into it.
“I haven’t seen that many around here—people who look like drug addicts at least.”
“Oh, we got ‘em. The half backs is bad enough.”
“What’s a half back?”
“Folk like that Edith Ramsey you got into it with yesterday. She moved from Boston down to Flardy, then up here. Gets too hot for ‘em and they move to the North Carolina Mountains. They move half way back up north; half backs.”
“Oh. What about people like us who just come up once in a while? What do people call us?”
“Tourists.” Pritchard polished off the biscuit.
Kate twisted her mouth to one side. “Is that better than being a half back?”
“Naw it ain’t. It’s worse. But I liked your pa. So you get a pass.”
“Oh, thanks, I guess.”
“What’d you do to get Edith all stirred up?” He seemed to be fighting a grin.
“She doesn’t like that bucket truck parked in our drive.”
“She don’t like a lot of things.”
“You mean like your chickens?”
His eyes were still glued to the television. “Like my chickens. Tell you the truth, I get tired of foolin’ with ‘em. But I don’t like nobody telling me what I can and can’t do on my own property.”
“Then why did you move to an HOA?”
Pritchard got up from the well-worn couch and made his way to the kitchen. “Wasn’t like this when we moved here. Years ago, we had a dairy farm outside of Charlotte. Some big developer fella came along and offered me a deal I couldn’t refuse. Me and the wife had always wanted to live in the mountains, so we took the money and came up here. The HOA didn’t do nothin’ in them days except maintain the road. We all paid our fair share for the upkeep and it was just fine.”
“So what happened?”
“Half backs happened. Makin’ rules about how big a house had to be, no trailers, no junk cars and all that. Sounds fine and dandy at the beginning, but once the camel gets its nose under the tent, it wants to begin tellin’ you what color britches to wear.” The old man returned with two cups of coffee. He placed one in front of Kate.
“Thank you.” She sipped the stout brew and puckered at the bitterness. “Where’s your wife?”
“She went on home to Glory six years ago. Left me here to wallow in this confounded mess alone.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s the way of the world, consequence of the original sin. It’s appointed unto man once to die and after that, the judgment.
“I’m awful sorry for them youngins. Don’t seem right them losin’ their ma at that age. They’ll be lookin’ to you for nurture. Especially the girl. She’ll be needin’ someone to coach her into womanhood.”
Kate listened. She thought about the curious choice of words Pritchard had used at Penny’s funeral. Despite his backwoods nature, Mr. Pritchard seemed wise. “What you said over my sister-in-law’s grave, about our sins being many. Why did you say that? I mean, you don’t really know us. We’re basically good people.”
Pritchard tittered. “Ma’am, ain’t nobody good but God. Scripture says so. Ever last one of us has broken God’s law, time and time again. You tellin’ me ain’t none of ya ever told no fib?”
“Well everybody does that.”
“And what does that make ‘em?”
“Liars, I guess.”
“Ain’t never took nothin’? Not in your whole life?”
“Maybe like a piece of gum. I never killed anyone, and I never robbed a bank.”
“But you’ve just admitted to being a lying thief. According to God’s standard, you’re a sinner.”
“I go to church.”
“Your church don’t tell you that lying thieves go to hell?”
“They don’t talk about that kind of stuff.” Kate felt defensive. “But you’re not perfect either.”
“Never claimed to be. I’m just washed in the blood of Jesus. I try to live a life worthy of the sacrifice He made, but I fall miserably short. I need grace every day.
“But churches not tellin’ folks that there’s consequence to sin is why we’re in the mess we’re in.”
“What mess?”
“This!” Pritchard motioned toward the dusty television screen.
“What, you think this is some kind of judgment from God?”
“I know it is. I’m just surprised He’s given us as long as He has. I’ve been expecting something like this for decades.”
Kate shook her head. “I don’t think God had anything to do with this. People are dying. God is patient and kind.”
“Yes, He is, but He is also righteous and just. You ever read the Bible cover to cover?”
“No, I don’t think I’d be able to understand it.”
“That’s hogwash—exactly what the Devil wants you to think. You’d understand it just fine. If’n you hit a spot that don’t make no sense, you just pray. God will reveal it to you… most of it anyhow. Some of it I still don’t understand, but I get the main gist of it. The rest, well I reckon God will reveal to me when I get to Glory Land.
“You read it through, especially the books of prophecy. See if none of it don’t sound familiar about the way folks is behavin’; especially toward God. And see if none of these catastrophes don’t ring a bell, too.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll try.”
“Don’t try. Either do it or don’t do it.”
Kate looked down. The old man had struck a nerve. She wasn’t sure how accurate his appraisal of the situation was, but she intended to find her father’s Bible and see if it was true. “The reason I had come over here was to ask if you’d be interested in working together to keep an eye on things in case conditions continue to deteriorate. Also, I wanted to ask if you’d like to work on a garden together and perhaps be willing to give us some pointers on raising chickens. If so, I thought you might know if anyone else in the community had a similar mindset about those things.”
Pritchard said, “You want to get folks movin’ before Edith poisons their minds and talks them into sticking their heads in the sand.”
“I suppose that’s another way of putting it, yes.”
“Alright, girly. Count me in.” He slapped her knee, then took another biscuit.
CHAPTER 22
He who walks with wise men will be wise, but the companion of fools will be destroyed.
Proverbs 13:20
One week passed. The cities around the country continued to melt into anarchy and pandemonium. One by one, the stores in and around Waynesville shuttered their doors due to a lack of goods to sell.
Likewise, one after the other, the cable news channels went off the air. All were located in major cities which deteriorated from unsafe to uninhabitable.
Kate worked alongside Terry, Sam, Vicky, and Harold Pritchard in the garden behind the cabin.
Pritchard pointed to Sam. “Run on over to my place and see if you can’t scratch up a little more chicken manure from the hen house.”
Sam pressed his lips together and glared at his sister. “Vicky, come on. Give me a hand with this.”
Using the metal rake, she continued to bust up the large clods of dirt left by the tiller. “He told you to do it.”
Terry stepped up and took the rake. “Go help your brother.”
“But Dad, it’s gross!”
“It’s called survival, Vicky. Come on, please. Do it for me.” He looked at her tenderly.
“Okay.” Unenthusiastically, she trailed off behind her brother.
Kate spr
inkled a few beet seeds into the ground and patted the dirt over them. “Boyd and Tina should have finished cleaning up the breakfast dishes by now.”
“I’m kind of enjoying being away from them. I don’t mind working the garden.” Terry’s voice still had not regained its usual pep and vigor that it had possessed prior to Penny’s passing.
Kate heard the sound of wheels crunching over the gravel drive. “Visitors.” She pulled her shirt up over the small Smith and Wesson 9mm, which she kept on her at all times.
Kate stood to her feet and began walking toward the cabin. Terry and Mr. Pritchard followed her.
Pritchard spoke harshly to the uninvited caller. “Edith, what are you come to pester us about now? I done told you to write me all the fines you want.”
“They are already written up. I’m just waiting for mail service to resume so I can send them via certified mail in keeping with HOA standards of notification.” She stepped out of the Subaru wearing slightly more practical clothing than before.
Pritchard cackled. “Your own bureaucracy has gotten in the way of your bureaucracy. Woman, why didn’t you just carry the letter down here with you?”
“I’m not here to argue, Harold. I’m here to issue a final warning. The Smiths, the Coopers, the Petersons, and I are leaving. We’ll be going down to the FEMA relief center in Greenville, South Carolina. While we’re gone, consider yourselves warned that there is to be no trespassing on any of our properties, for any reason. Additionally, there is to be no animal husbandry nor agricultural endeavors on any of the common areas, vacant lots, and especially on any of the plots where the owners are not here. While your blatant disregard for the covenants on your own property is merely a finable offense, I’ll have you locked up for trespassing if it happens anywhere else.”
“Very well.” Pritchard turned his back to the snarling woman and made his way back toward the garden. “If I see any ne’er-do-wells snooping around your house, I’ll just let them be; so as I’m not trespassing by shooing them off.”
“For your sakes, I hope this is resolved quickly. You’ll never make a garden at this time of the year. And once the relief centers are filled, they turn people away.” Edith returned to her vehicle and slammed her door. The Subaru kicked gravel as she hurried out of the drive.
Kate caught up with the old man. “That makes about half the community who have vacated their homes.”
“Yep. The bad half. Good riddance to ‘em. We won’t never see them again.”
“You think not?” she asked.
“They’ll be dead inside of a week. The government ain’t got the wherewithal to feed all them people.”
Kate felt concerned about what Edith had said. “Is she right? Will we be able to get a crop to grow this late in the year?”
“We’ll get a few things. Ever little bit will help. If the Lord blesses us and holds off the first frost a mite longer, that could make a big difference. But beets, cabbage, carrots, peas, they should all make somethin’.
“Mrs. Peterson used to make apple butter and sell it at the festivals. I bet she’s got a canner and a good stock of Mason jars. We’ll run down there and see in the mornin’.”
Kate stopped in her tracks. “We can’t break in and steal her stuff! They just left!”
“It’s just borrowin’. We’ll buy her some new ones when Edith gets to Washington and get this all sorted out. Besides, Mrs. Peterson won’t need it. They won’t be back. Otherwise, we’ll just let someone else get it. We’re their neighbors. Seems right and proper that we should be the ones to have it.”
Kate tried but failed to adopt his logic. Nevertheless, she capitulated. “Someone who makes apple butter sounds like the type of person who would stick it out. I’m surprised she’s going to the FEMA camp.”
“Her nor her husband neither one can’t think for themselves. Edith told them it was the right thing to do, so they did it.”
“I told them that staying and working together was the right thing to do,” Kate countered.
“They see Edith as an authority figure.”
“And I’m just a tourist.”
“’Fraid so.” Pritchard bent down and began mixing small sprinkles of the chicken manure into the soil with a hand-held cultivator.
Sam returned toting an old galvanized pail. Vicky was right behind him with a rabbit. “We caught a rabbit in the trap!”
Sam handed the pail to Mr. Pritchard. “I think that’s the last of it.”
The old man took the pail. “Them hens’ll make more. That’s one thing they’re good at.”
Vicky showed the rabbit to her father. “Couldn’t we keep just one?”
He pulled her tight. “I’m sorry, honey. You know what they’re for.”
Pritchard looked up. “Bring me that hare.”
Reluctantly, Vicky passed him the animal. He took it by the ears and gruffly flipped it upside down. “It’s a buck. We need one good buck. If I let you keep him alive to breed, will you promise there’ll be no more pets?”
With excited expectation, she said, “I promise.”
“Alright then. Put him in the cage and do what you like with him.”
“Thank you! I’ll be right back.” Vicky skipped off to the cabin.
She returned minutes later and resumed gardening with the others.
“Is your lazy uncle sleeping?” Kate inquired.
“No. He and Tina are down in the garage with some guys.”
Kate immediately stood up. She tossed her gardening gloves on the ground and stomped toward the house. Terry quickly caught up and shot out in front of her.
Kate arrived a second after her brother. Two scraggly-looking men were retrieving a bottle of whiskey and a carton of cigarettes from a backpack.
“What’s going on?” Terry asked.
“We’re just making a little trade. I’ll explain it later. Wait for me upstairs.” Boyd waived dismissively to Terry.
“No! No way! Boyd, you have absolutely nothing to trade with.” Terry took the whiskey and the cigarettes and handed them back to the man with the pack. “I’m sorry he wasted your time.”
“No can do, Cochise,” the other man said. “We came all the way up here. We’re not leaving without something. I don’t want to get into a family squabble, but I need to get paid.”
The man with the bag said, “We could make an exception. We’ll settle for a twenty percent restocking fee.”
Infuriated over the situation, Kate drew her pistol. “Or you could settle for me letting you walk away with your lives.”
The first man shook his head and backed toward the door. “You’re making a big mistake, missy.”
“By letting you live? Is that a threat? Are you telling me I should gun you down right here and now?” She gripped the pistol tightly.
“Aunt Kate? What’s going on?” Vicky stood behind her.
“Nothing sweetie. Go back with your brother.” She motioned with her gun. “You two, beat it. I don’t want to see you in this subdivision ever again.”
The two ruffians backed slowly out of the open garage, wearing menacing expressions as they left.
“I can’t believe you!” Terry yelled. “What were you thinking?”
Boyd stood stubbornly. “I was thinking we have way more than enough and a bucket or two of this food wouldn’t matter much.”
“Well, it does matter!” Kate exclaimed. “You still have booze and cigarettes.”
“We’re getting low on smokes, actually,” Tina said.
“I was talking to my brother. You’re a guest; an uninvited one I might add, so you’d do well to stay out of this conversation.” Kate turned back to Boyd. “I can’t believe you brought them to our home, showed them everything we’ve got. You’ve endangered us all, your niece, your nephew.”
Terry put his hands on his hips. “Boyd, you and Tina need to pack your bags. We’ll give you a month’s worth of food, but you have to go. Be gone by sunset.”
“And go where? This is Dad
’s cabin. You can’t kick me out!”
“You sold me your share because you wanted nothing to do with it. I absolutely can kick you out.” Terry stepped closer as if he were ready for the conflict to escalate to a physical level.
“Kate?” Boyd stepped back. “You have a say here. Are you going to let him kick me out? If you do, you’re signing my death warrant. Can you live with that?”
Kate grunted and holstered her weapon. She exhaled angrily through flared nostrils. She crossed her arms tightly and pondered the conundrum. She glanced at Terry.
He turned to walk out of the room and flipped his hands in the air. “Do what you want. It’s your call.”
Kate glared at Boyd and Tina. “If you stay, both of you quit smoking and drinking as of right now.”
Tina again spoke up. “Couldn’t we taper off instead of going cold turkey? We’ve still got six bottles of vodka and five packs of smokes.”
“No. I’m taking that. It’s just been brought to my attention how valuable such commodities are. We’ll use them to trade for something we really need.”
Boyd stuck his hands in his pockets and tilted his head to one side. “I don’t think that’s really fair.”
“Then pack up your cigarettes, your booze, and the rest of your belongings and be gone by sundown.” Kate turned to leave.
“Okay, okay. We’ll do it.”
“Fine. Bring them to me right now.” She spun back around.
With heads hung low, Boyd and Tina went upstairs to collect their sacred idols. Moments later they returned.
“Here.” Boyd handed her a cardboard box.
Kate inspected the contents. “Four bottles, three packs of cigarettes. You’re holding out on me. Cough it all up or hit the road.”
Boyd nodded for Tina to go collect the rest of the loot. Once she’d left the room, he said, “I was wrong to barter with the food without asking, but you really should have let it play out.”
“And why is that, Boyd?”
He shook his head. “These guys are bad news. It’s not just the two of them either. They run around with some pretty rough hombres.”
“Boyd! What have you gotten us into?” Kate felt the anxiety building. She set the box at her feet.
