by Ison, S. A.
He smiled when his eyes landed on the homemade couch he and Willy had made. His grandfather had offered to help, but they had said no. Their great-grandfather had also built a couch and chairs, all of which were positioned around the room and much nicer than their effort. Now he wished he had let his grandfather help. He laughed at the misshapen mess as he walked over to sit on it. It was lumpy, but comfortable enough.
Willene had made the seating pillows from old couch pillows she’d found at a dump, using new material to cover them. She had sewn them by hand in the dim lamplight, and been so proud of the end result. He had made the frame of the couch, his carpentry talents sadly lacking. He’d used countless nails and screws and it was as sturdy as a rock. He placed his hand lovingly along the back of the couch.
There was a low coffee table along with several straight-backed chairs, all made by his great-grandfather and all with graceful lines: he’d been a master carpenter, a trait that hadn’t translated through genetics. Several tables held oil lamps and candelabras, the candles leaning crookedly. A large box of matches sealed inside a plastic bag lay next to an oil lamp.
Harry clambered up from the couch, walked over and lit the lamp, and put his flashlight back in his pocket. Everything looked the same: the magazines that were years out of date were still on the coffee table, most of them National Geographic. There were a few car and racing magazines, and several Seventeen, which Willy had adored. A soft smile of remembrance curved his cheeks.
It had been the best childhood they could have hoped for. He could almost hear the echoes of their laughter. His eyes crinkled at the memories that flooded him. He walked around the large room, touching things, picking them up and putting them back in their places.
He sighed heavily and turned and made his way to the next level. Holding the lamp before him, he navigated the twists and turns. The cave system had many levels and many caves, alcoves, and caverns. Many of the caves were small, and he and his sister had played hide and seek among them all.
Going to the left, he entered a bed chamber. The entrance had been framed with timbers and a curtain hung for privacy. The chamber had been set up with a handmade bed with rope ties along the frame that supported an old feather mattress. There was a patchwork quilt covering it and no dust on it. Surprisingly, the cave was quite clean.
He’d spent many nights sleeping in this room. He went to the small chest of drawers and opened it. He grinned and pulled up an action figure. He gently set it on the top of the chest; it was GI Joe. He must have wanted to go into the army because of Joe. He laughed at the thought, and the sound echoed in the small room.
There was a small table by the bed on which stood another oil lamp, a small stack of comics, and an old flashlight. Beneath the table was a glass jar of fuel for the lamp. Another large box of matches sat by the lamp, it too encased in plastic. He left the small room and continued on, coming to another room. This had been his mother’s room and held a small bed, a night stand with an oil lamp, and a table that held a pitcher and large bowl.
There was also the shelf that had held her clothes and several photographs of himself and Willy. Harry imagined he could still smell his mother in this room; her perfume, White Shoulders, had been her favorite. A small, long forgotten ache rose in his throat. His mother had been gone for most of his life, yet he still remembered her as a loving mother. He couldn’t remember her voice, but at least he had photographs to remember her face.
Walking on, he passed his grandfather’s chamber and came to Willene’s. He stepped into the room and grinned. There were several posters still up: Boy George, Toto, and Cindy Lauper. The stone walls had been painted a splatter of pinks and purples like someone had thrown up Pepto-Bismol.
No wonder she hadn’t been here in ten years, he snickered to himself. He knew he’d have to tease her about her room when he got back to the house. He laughed again at the thought of her as a teen.
He went to a tattered basket in the corner and saw ratty-headed Barbie dolls. They looked like pickup sticks, thrown in with no regard. He laughed again. He couldn’t believe they’d been goofy children once, carefree and silly.
He walked on, and the floor angled gently down. There were other rooms with beds, but they’d not been used in decades. Other family members had utilized them way back when, but no longer. The rooms had been left as is, and untouched. Faded patchwork quilts were folded neatly at the foot of each bed, and each room was equipped with a chamber pots. Each person was responsible for their own pot.
He made a face and laughed once more; this had been primitive living, and now they were going to be living primitive once more. At some point yesterday, Willene had dug out several old ceramic chamber pots. From the barn, he’d guessed. Each of the bedrooms now sported their own chamber pot. It was easier than running out to the outhouse in the middle of the night, especially once the weather turned cold and nasty.
When he came to the back of the cave he found the largest cavern, which until now had been empty and unused. His jaw fell when he held the light up and saw boxes upon boxes, all neatly stacked. He walked into the large room, bringing the lamp it close to the boxes.
They were neatly labeled in his grandfather’s hand. The box in front of him was labeled “Long-burning candles”. In smaller writing, he could see that it was five hundred count. Jesus, five hundred candles? He thought. The next box had boxed matches, another box was labeled “Lighters”. Another box had batteries, and there was also a box that indicated flashlights.
He looked more quickly at the boxes, his eyes darting and moving to each label, unable to believe his eyes. There were yet more boxes stacked along another wall. He read them. Fifty pounds of dried beans, and there were at least twenty-five or better of those boxes. Then he looked at the other boxes. Those were labeled rice, each box containing fifty pounds, and there had to have been more than fifty of those boxes.
He rested his hand against a large box, feeling unsteady on his legs. What the hell had his grandfather done? His brain was overloaded with his discovery. He left the room and continued downward along another passage, finding another chamber beyond.
This one was filled with wooden shelving — he knew his grandfather had built those. They now carried cans and cans of vegetables, fruit, freeze-dried meats, shiny bags — mylar, he thought — of pasta, flour, and powdered milk. The cavernous chamber was smaller than the one filled with boxes, but the wooden shelves were filled with foods of every kind.
He shook his head and once more wondered at his grandfather. There was enough food here to last them all year, and more. There was enough to feed each of them. People would kill to get their hands on this treasure.
Tears welled in his eyes and he slid down to sit on the floor. He couldn’t imagine how the old man had managed all of this. The money, the time, and the energy, and it had nearly killed him. Rather, it had killed him, as he was now dying of heart failure.
His quiet sobs resonated off the walls around him. He couldn’t seem to stop himself. His shoulders shook as he wept; wept for his grandfather, for Fran, and for the loss of their world. It all came crashing down on him. He’d not realized just how much he’d been keeping it all under control so tightly. He’d not allowed himself grieve, hadn’t had a chance to.
He’d been overwhelmed with the responsibility of having so many people living under his roof, of protecting them from what was surely to come their way. They had no way of knowing, but he did. He’d seen it too many times in other countries.
He had been hoping they would have time to prepare, and here his grandfather had done it all, giving them the precious gifts of both time and space. Room to breathe, to adjust to their new world, to grow and hunt for the food they would need. His grandfather had given them a chance to start a new life without the harsh struggle so many would face in the coming weeks and months.
CHAPTER NINE
Getting up from the ground, Harry left the chamber and went back the way he’d come. He back-tracked
to the living room cave and then went toward the right, down the passageways that wound around. He looked into the other sleeping chambers, which were all neat and simply furnished. Each alcove held personal knickknacks from decades past.
The cave was like a museum of sorts. There were ten sleeping chambers in all, each holding treasures special to someone at some time. He went on and found another cave with various tools and equipment, and what looked like a crank radio. He wondered if it had been hardened. There were stacks of wires, nuts, bolts, duct tape, and other odds and ends.
He moved on to another cave. This one was filled with firewood and twelve two-gallon containers of lamp oil. The firewood was stacked neatly and looked to be nearly two cords. How the hell had he gotten all of this down here? He left that cave and moved farther on. Next he found a cave set up as a kitchen. There was a large table made, he could see, by his grandfather. His grandfather had a certain style, tending to put slight angles at the edges. He also used whitewash on the pieces he built, because it helped lighten up the space, Harry supposed. Harry was more partial to darker stains with hints of red.
Dishes were stacked along a wall on a counter. There were also pots and pans, and an old crockery jar that held tongs, spatulas, whisks and wooden spoons. There were also several oil lamps and, in the far corner his grandfather had chiseled out an alcove two feet long and two feet deep. None of this had been here the last time he’d been in the cave system.
Harry noticed that a trickle of water was seeping from the wall. Not much, but it filled the bowl that had been chiseled out at the bottom of the alcove. A natural sink. From there, the water spilled out and ran along the wall and into the cracks of the floor. Stepping forward, Harry dipped his hand into the frigid water and sipped. It was sweet and had a hint of iron but wasn’t unpleasant at all. He shook his head in wonder.
He left the kitchen and walked on, going down farther. This was where he and his sister had played the most. There was a pool farther down, Harry estimated it at nearly thirty feet below ground level. It was the deepest part of the cave. It had a soft decline that ended in a dark pool. The water was clear and he could see the bottom, a gentle slide away, when he shone his flashlight into the water.
He and Willy had always swum here in the hottest part of summer. The water was bone-chillingly cold, so they could only swim around for ten minutes before they exited, blue-lipped and laughing. He grinned at the sweet memory, and shivered at the thought of the glacial water.
The water was sweet as well, and Harry lifted the lantern and looking around. Nothing had been done here. He was glad; he hated to imagine if it had been modified and perhaps ruined. He turned and started back up, arriving back at the living room cave. He went past the couch and shimmied behind the wall to another alcove. Though narrow, it went back about fifteen feet.
Here his grandfather had built a compost toilet. It was a high wooden block painted deep blue. It had a toilet seat affixed to the box and inside Harry found a five-gallon bucket. Stacked around the chamber were bags of peat, pine shavings, and a few buckets of wood ash. Bundles of toilet tissue were stacked up nearly to the high ceiling.
On a low shelf he found bags rolled in bundles. He picked up the bundle and read the label on the bags; they were biodegradable six-gallon bags. He looked over into the toilet and saw the five-gallon bucket had one of the bags lining it. He took note of another five-gallon bucket off to the side, ready if needed.
He shook his head in amazement. His grandfather had thought of everything. Should the need arise, they could live quite comfortably here in the cave. He made his way out and placed the oil lamp on the table. He blew out the flame, took his flashlight out, and made his way to the surface. There was a lot to tell Willy.
Ӝ
Willene wandered through the woods toward the cave. Harry had been gone for a while and she wanted to check on him. Marilyn and Monroe were out in the garden, Marilyn showing Monroe how to weed. She’d laughed and said it was never too soon to teach children responsibility and a good work ethic. Willene had laughed and agreed.
She and Harry had often been out in the garden with their mother, though they’d hated pulling weeds. Now she’d give anything to be pulling weeds with her mother. She didn’t mind pulling them now, but there always seemed to be other things to take care of. Now, she guessed, they had all the time in the world.
She took a deep breath and blew the memory away. The terrain was starting to rise and she could feel it in her legs. She slowed when she heard something coming toward her, hoping it was Harry. Her hand went absently to her hip, where her weapon was: a Ruger LC9. She had a holster clipped to the waist of her jeans. When she saw her brother, she relaxed, smiled, and raised her hand in greeting. She saw Harry’s flash of teeth and waited for him to come to her.
“How did it go, Harry?” she asked as he drew up.
Harry laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re not going to believe this, but Peapot has filled that cave to the brim with everything you can think of. Food, supplies, candles, lantern fuel, toilet paper… he has even built a kitchen and a bathroom.”
“Are you kiddin’ me?” she said, shocked. She’d wondered what the old man had been up to, and oh, how sneaky he was. She could pinch the little devil.
Harry shook his head, his face going serious as he grabbed both her hands in his. “No, I’m not. I’m talking food that will last us for years and years, Willy. If we plan and are careful, with the garden and hunting, we can easily survive this.”
Willene shook her head. She just couldn’t believe it. “Should we keep it there and hidden?”
“Yes. We should keep it as a fall-back in case we are overrun with refugees from the cities. I don’t think we will be, but I just don’t know how life is going to be, now that there is no law or government.”
Willene could hear the worry in his voice, and was so glad their grandfather had done what he’d done. He’d saved their lives. She shook her head in wonder as she bent and picked up a branch, and then stepped over an ant hill. She plucked at the leaves on the branch she held. As though reading her mind, her brother spoke. “He’s saved us, you know. He has saved all our lives, or at least given us a chance. We could have made it without it, but it would have been hard. This at least gives us some breathing room.” He paused. “I don’t think we should tell the others just yet.” He pulled the branch from her hands and began to pluck the remaining leaves.
“I agree. Though Boggy and Earl are good people, I just don’t know them as well as Marilyn. I will tell her, if you don’t mind, in case something happens,” Willene decided, snatching the branch back, grinning at him.
“That’s fine. We’ve known Marilyn since we were in grade school. She is a wonderful woman and Monroe is a cutie. It is good to have a little one around. I’m glad she’s here, as I really think she and Monroe wouldn’t have made it. I honestly don’t know what our future is going to be like. I just can’t get it out of my mind,” he said.
Willene’s eyes cut to her brother. His strong face held signs of stress around his mouth and eyes. He had a lot on his shoulders, but she was grateful. “I know this is very selfish, but I’m so glad you are here, Harry. I can’t even wrap my head around it all. One moment it all seems normal, then I hear the gunshots in the distance,” Willene said, and threw down the naked branch.
“I know. It is the same for me. Things seem normal, like the first couple days I arrived here, then I see Earl or Boggy and for a split second I wonder, ‘Why are these people here in my home?’” Harry laughed, but there was no humor.
Willene reached over and placed her hand on her twin’s shoulder and patted it. “It really is a good thing that you are here. There is a great unknown about to happen. I’m really scared, Harry. I have a bad feeling. We are so blessed that Peapot did all this for us, and that we are far away from town and the city. It’s like I’m both scared and numb…does that even make sense?”
“It does. I feel like that too
. It is so friggen’ hard to wrap my head around. Things seem normal one moment and then it hits me,” Harry said.
“Well, all we can do is all we can do. I guess just take one day at a time, hope that we aren’t hit with a flood of people wanting what we have. Make preparation, work to keep ourselves safe. I don’t know what else we can do, Harry,” Willene said.
“Yeah, I am glad we have Earl and Boggy. They can help protect us and we can protect them. Monroe can grow up here, safe, with his mother. It’s an odd group, but I think if we all work together, I think we’ll do fine,” Harry said.
“I know I’m being a little paranoid, but do you think we should make bugout bags of clothes and such, in case something bad happens at the farmhouse?” Willene asked.
“I think that is a good idea, and maybe move some of the weapons and some of our clothes and linen to the caves ahead of us, stuff we don’t really need. Have it there so if something happens, all we have to do is take a backpack of clothes,” Harry said.
“Because we have redundant medical kits, I think it is also a good idea to put one of them in the cave. Anything duplicated, we can maybe move there, just in case,” Willene suggested.
“That is a really good idea. Do you think maybe move most of the foodstuff there? Only keep enough food at the house for a month or two? The thought of someone taking everything scares the hell out of me,” Harry said.
“Yeah. I hate to say it, but I’d feel better erring on the side of caution. Marilyn and I can make a few trips and take things up there. I can also show her the way.”
“Sounds good, and I will help as well. There is a rusted wagon Peapot must have used. Maybe we can break down the fifty-pound bags of rice into smaller portions, then take the rest to the cave.”
“Yeah, I don’t think we are going to use all of that sugar either in a couple months. Might as well take that, the oats, flour and whatever else we don’t need at the moment,” Willene said.
“How are we with the inventory?” Harry asked.
