Northern Lights: A Scorched Earth Novel

by Boyd Craven III

  I got in smiling. At least I’d done something right. I untied the boat from the cleat and held onto the dock for her.

  “What got you into prepping?” I asked her as she got in the back of the boat and undid her line.

  I pushed us off.

  “Where were you when 9/11 happened?” she asked me suddenly.

  “I was at work, somebody announced it over the PA system and we all crowded over to the break room to watch the coverage on TV. Why, were you there?”

  “No, but I was in New Orleans on August 23rd, 2005.”

  I let the date swish through my head a moment before it clicked. “Hurricane Katrina?” I asked, “You were there?”

  “For the first two days,” she said. “I left just as the police were going door to door, taking the guns from people.”

  “My God,” I said pushing us off, “what was it like?”

  Like many people, Katrina had showed Americans how ill-prepared we were for natural disasters and how ill-prepared people were in general. It was one thing to read about it or see it on TV. To have actually been there would have been horrifying.

  “The first night, people were helping each other. I was visiting with friends from college and was stuck there with their family. We were lucky; their house was on one of the hills. The water hadn’t reached it yet, but everyone else was camped right outside their doors. The morning of the 24th, a woman was raped and beaten on the cracked pavement in front of the house. We all hid inside and ignored people banging on the door for food and water.”

  “Did they try to get inside?” I asked her horrified.

  “Oh yes, but with us being in one of the only spots where there was no water, the Red Cross came in quick as well and started ferrying people out. I don’t think any of us slept that first night. The second night was eerie. Cops were banging on the doors of the houses, whether the steps were under water or not. I was shocked when some people answered. They were doing wellness checks and confiscating firearms.”

  “This story doesn’t have a happy ending does it?” I asked her.

  “I don’t know if it’s happy or not. We were there for two days, not the entire crisis…”

  “Sorry, go on,” I urged, paddling gently while she guided us down the shoreline away from the cabin.

  “After the police had left, gangs of people would come and kick in the doors. There was gunfire, screams. Many people were leaving for the stadium. I heard it was even worse there.”

  “How’d you get out, then?” I asked her.

  “A house three doors down from us was being broken into when the cops showed back up. We were evacuated north. We were lucky to get on a bus. Since I was there visiting, I just kept on going as soon as I got to an airport.”

  “That could have been a lot worse,” I told her, “thankfully you got away ok.”

  “The woman who was raped didn’t. The people who were beaten or killed by the thugs weren’t. The cops… I don’t know what to think about the people who shot and killed the cops and vice versa when they were trying to take their guns… I promised myself I’d never be in that situation again. I’d always be prepared for anything.”

  “And here we are,” I said softly.

  “Here we are,” she agreed.

  I turned around because we slowed and took in her features. A sad smile stretched across her lips and she reached forward to pull a fishing pole out of the small frame that was holding it in place. She handed it to me. I smiled when I saw the stick bobber and the simple hook on the end. The most advanced tackle in the world couldn’t out-fish a determined kid and a box full of worms with a rig like this.

  “I’m sorry,” I told her after taking the pole and getting the hook loose.

  “For what?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, for a little bit of everything I guess,” I admitted, “your parents, being stuck up here, what you had to go through.”

  “You want to know what really worried me this week? Even more so than being stuck up here?” she asked.

  “What?” I asked her, not ready for the wallop I was about to get.

  “Being stuck up here alone.”

  The words were simple, quietly delivered and they made me turn and meet her gaze. She held it for a moment and then her arm snaked out like lightning and hit the water. She pulled something out and threw it at me. Slime and algae was launched at me and I brushed at it frantically till it splashed in the water at my feet. She started cackling and almost tipped the boat as I leaned over and saw the bullfrog she’d snatched out of the water.

  “That wasn’t funny!” I said, half embarrassed, half amused and half angry.

  I know, three halves… I was never good at math, so sue me!

  “It was,” she said and went on laughing right up until…

  I used the paddle and slapped the surface of the water on an angle and half the lake splashed up on her. Her laughter cut off in a gasp. I’d soaked her from about the waist up, her face and hair getting the brunt of the water.

  “I hope you know how to swim,” she said, standing.

  My eyes opened wide and I quickly put the pole down and held onto the edges of the boat. She was going to throw me off, just like Tracy did…

  She rolled the boat instead. I came up sputtering for air over her laughter.

  “You wanted to play splash, let’s play splash,” she said, shoving a handful of water expertly at my head.

  I blew the water out and wiped my eyes as I planted my legs in the squishy muck, pulling a lily pad off my face.

  “You flipped the boat?!” I all but yelled, surprised and shocked.

  “It all floats, even the rods,” she said and sent another stream of water at me.

  Two quick strides through the mush and she was squealing with laughter as I picked her up and threw her a few feet off into deeper water. I turned to follow, feeling something inside of me like butterflies right up until the moment that Denise didn’t surface. Bubbles came up from the water but it was murky from our kicking up the muck. I ducked underwater, feeling for her when I felt the water surge behind me.

  I rose up for air as two hands pushed down on my head dunking me. I got half a nose full of lake water and I tasted dirt. I spit it out as I surfaced again, two long sinewy arms wrapped around my head.

  “I said catch frogs, not horse around,” Debora Wood yelled from the porch of the cabin.

  Immediately Denise let go and I turned to see her mother’s form, both hands on her hips, scowling. Luckily, nothing had been lost to me, though if I didn’t get out of the muck I might lose my shoes.

  “Yes mother,” Denise said, trying to sound chastised but when Denise turned to face me, her mother broke out into a smile.

  “You’re a brat,” I told her, wading towards a paddle that was floating towards deep water.

  “That’s what I hear.” she replied, sending a half-hearted splash my way.

  11

  “Thank you for staying for an early dinner, I know the girls and Jordan said you’ve all been busy,” Mrs. Wood said.

  “It’s no problem, ma’am. It’s nice to visit company,” Brian said jovially.

  He’d been ribbing me every chance he got when the Woods elders weren’t around. Apparently the whole thing had been seen by everyone but Mr. Wood, who had finally fallen asleep. I wanted to say something snarky to Brian but just nodded in agreement instead.

  We’d ended up dragging everything from the canoe to shore before we righted it and then emptied it of water. We’d caught easily three dozen frogs by hand or just by holding a hook just in front of their faces. They didn’t even need a worm, just the small object and the swaying movement to convince the big croakers that it was a fly of some sort. Put them in the bucket, put a lid on it and keep fishing. Denise had showed me how to dispatch them by poking them in the head with a fillet knife before cutting off the back legs, then the webbed foot. We’d skinned the legs easily, battered them with a cornbread mixture, and pan fried.


  “This is really good,” I said with a mouthful.

  “It’d be better if you didn’t smell like sewage,” Tracy told me.

  “I went for a swim, so sue me,” I told her grinning.

  “Are you two related? Brother and sister by chance?” Debora asked.

  I looked at who was fighting off the giggles and covered my mouth for half a second, wiping the smile away.

  “No ma’am,” I answered, “Just known each other since the sixth grade.”

  Brian’s head jerked around to fix me in his gaze, “I didn’t know that?”

  “She was my neighbor. Her parents’ moved in next door.”

  Brian looked conflicted, but instead of pushing it, he grabbed a couple more frog legs and started eating again.

  “Is Mr. Wood awake?” Jordan asked. “I need to check on him again.”

  “He said to let him sleep till it was three, when you said he needed to take the next pill?”

  “Yes,” Jordan answered. “I just don’t know…”

  “Oh, I have a wind-up clock,” she pointed to the stove where an old brass clock sat.

  I looked at Brian and remembered our conversation from earlier and just nodded. He nodded back in understanding. I’d never thought about the wind-up clock, and it made perfect sense. I saw we had another twenty minutes until we had to wake him up.

  “What are you doing for food over on your lake?” Denise asked me.

  All eyes turned to stare at me. I swallowed my bite and told her.

  “Fish, smoked and dehydrated. Cattail roots for the starch to make bread… Blueberries… and I brought a few dried goods, but they won’t last us long.”

  “We’ve been eating mostly fish ourselves,” Deborah translated for her daughter.

  “I’ve got to learn how to sign,” I said to myself, softly.

  Apparently not softly enough.

  “Oh, if you stick around long enough, the girls will teach you. They love to sign when I’m not looking; always getting into mischief, those two.”

  “I’m sure your daughters are proper ladies,” Jordan said with a serious look.

  Debora giggled at that and looked away.

  “Or not,” I answered smiling.

  “What are you planning on eating meat wise? You can’t just live on fish, not these ones anyways.”

  I knew she was right; there wasn’t enough fat content. When we got back, I was really going to start my hunting and snaring efforts in full, even if it was just for some steaks in the short term.

  “Moose, elk, bear,” I told her. “By the way, do you have any bear nearby?”

  “No, why?” she asked.

  “We’ve got a mother and two almost yearlings by us. Gave us a scare.” I told them.

  “No bear problems, but we don’t leave any food out,” Debora said in a reproachful tone.

  Apparently she’d been on trips like these before.

  * * *

  We talked about what we thought was going on, how we were preparing for the winter. Mrs. Wood was adamant that somebody was going to come and fly them out soon, so she hadn’t seen the need to do more than plan the day-to-day food. Since frogs and fish were plentiful, she’d been safe from the ravages of hunger. So far. Denise let her arm rub my side and I looked over. She hadn’t used her elbow but she was giving me a look. It took me a second, but I realized she was letting me know she wanted to talk later. I nodded and was startled when the old brass wind up clock started going off.

  “That’s the signal,” Mrs. Wood said standing.

  “Do you want some help?” Jordan said rising.

  “No, you keep Tonya there entertained. I’m just going to fix him a plate and make him take that pill.”

  I grinned wolfishly at Jordan who was suddenly squirming with the attention of everybody still at the table. What? It was nice not to have it directed at me for once!

  “Yes ma’am,” he said and sat down.

  Tonya hadn’t missed much of the conversation, and I figured she was an expert in reading body language because she took his left hand as he sat and pulled herself closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. He looked ready to bolt.

  “Don’t fight it, stud muffin,” Tracy told him.

  “What do you know?” Jordan said after thinking about it a moment too long.

  “Well, my husband here knows ASL also, and he told me all the sordid details— “

  “I thought you said you didn’t tell him!” Denise said, cutting her off.

  “He didn’t tell Tom, but he keeps nothing from me,” she said sweetly.

  “That’s right,” Brian said in a weird voice and leaned over and kissed her.

  Tonya made a motion pointing her finger down her throat and silently gagged. I nodded as the two sisters started signing. When they looked at Jordan, Denise made her finger and thumb hold themselves apart like they were going to make a giant pinching movement. Tonya shook her head and she brought her fingers closer together so they were only an inch apart.

  “What’s she saying?” I asked Brian who was trying not to laugh. “Telling her sister how big Jordan is?” I guessed.

  Denise let out a surprised snort and turned to me. “No, I was asking her how much more it would take to embarrass you two boys. You’re awfully shy. It’s kind cute. Funny to boot.”

  I looked to Brian questioningly, and he was nodding and making a fist and shaking it up and down. Jordan shrugged and went back to eating and soon we were all chatting again. Where we grew up, what we’d wanted to do after college. Silly stories, which Tracy knew the most about and made sure to make me the happy go lucky goofball in all of them instead of the brooding angry young man I’d actually been. Maybe she was helping me out, or maybe my perception had been off.

  “I’m going to check on Mom,” Denise said aloud, translating for our benefit.

  Jordan signed something and she nodded. He rose and followed her.

  “I wonder if your dad was able to finish the frog legs?” Tracy asked Denise.

  “I hope so, he hasn’t eaten much lately— “

  “Denise!” a loud nasal-sounding voice yelled.

  She immediately got to her feet and left the room.

  “Who else is here?” I asked.

  “I think that was Tonya,” Brian told me, “some of the deaf folk don’t always like talking. They know they sound a little different. Self-conscious,” he said.

  “How do you know so much about deaf culture?” Tracy asked, and I turned to hear the answer for myself.

  “Same way that Jordan does. Family member. For me, it’s a cousin. Jordan’s little sister is deaf…”

  I loud wail went up and we all rose to our feet and hurried towards the short hallway that separated the main dining room from the bathroom and two bedrooms. The yell had come from there. As we grew closer, I could hear soft sobs. I pushed open a half-closed door and, sitting on the bed, holding Mr. Wood’s hand, was Debora. Tonya was kneeling near his other hand and Jordan and Denise were standing at the head of the bed. Jordan was checking for a pulse. I could already see the color had gone out of Mr. Wood and for a man who’d been sweating earlier, his brow was now dry.

  “He’s gone,” Denise said and turned to sit by her mother.

  “Oh God,” I said, backing up, bumping into Tracy and Brian.

  “Don’t freak out,” Tracy whispered to me, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder, “it’s ok, don’t freak out.”

  “I…”

  “He’s cool, hun,” Brian whispered.

  “No, he’s not.”

  Memories swirled. My parents and then grandparents. No siblings. Watching my father in a sickbed, every trip to visit him at the hospital he’d shed a few more pounds from his already gaunt frame, until one day I walked in and they were cleaning the room. The nurse had been trying to get ahold of me, but I’d left school to go visit my dad. It was the year I graduated, the year I left, the year I ended up marrying Tracy.

  “I…”

&n
bsp; Denise must have seen something because she rose and walked over, wrapping her arms around my chest and cried softly.

  “What happened?” I asked her.

  “When Mom came in here, he was gone. He went in his sleep.”

  “It was the infection,” Debora said. “His body couldn’t take it. He told me last night that he didn’t think he’d…”

  Tonya stood and pulled her mom off the bed and held her frail neck and head to her chest. Silent tears coursed down the deaf woman’s face, but her expression was blank. She was trying to be strong for her mom.

  “I love you, Mom,” Tonya said aloud.

  “I love you,” her mother said.

  I don’t know if Tonya could hear something or feel the words through their contact, but she squeezed her mom tight and then let her go. Debora stood and looked at the four of us standing there.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she said simply.

  “Let’s go sit down,” Denise said, leaving me and walking towards her mother and sister. “Out in the dining room.

  “I want to check— “

  I nodded at Jordan and he shut up. He wanted to check the incision. I figured he’d never rest easy unless he assured himself that he didn’t screw up, or hadn’t done everything within his power. He was just built like that. It was both a good trait and a character flaw because, if he found something he did or didn’t do that caused the death of Mr. Wood, he’d flog himself for it.

  I felt Tracy’s hand leave my shoulder and I walked out of the room, and went out the door to the wooden deck and sat on the top step. I heard the door open a second later. When somebody sat down beside me I was expecting Tracy or Denise, not Brian.

  “Dude, you ok?” Brian asked.

  “I… Yeah,” I said.

  “What happened?” He asked simply.

  “My father. Cancer, died in bed.”

  “How old were you,” he asked.

  “Eighteen, just a month away from graduating.”

  Brian was silent for a moment, probably mentally counting back the years.

  “I’m sorry man, that kind of stuff hits you bad?” he asked.