Clem's Contrivance: Terrorist Fiction In The Deep South (The Apocalyptic Rifle Book 1)

by Ron Foster

  “Now Calm down Bertha and point that shotgun of yours away from me please. Everybody is fine; I turned them loose and told them to hide in the woods when we heard you coming, can’t be too careful these days you know.” PD began to explain

  “Turned them loose? Why did you have them chained up to begin with? You in the woods come on out now you hear? You is safe now!” Bertha bellowed eying the trees while keeping one eye on PD and Marley who just grinned a bit sheepishly as a mans voice called out from the woods.

  “Thank God, I told you PD you couldn’t get away with this! Call the cops, I want him arrested!” a disheveled man said as he came out of the woods and began picking at the remnants of some duct tape on his wrists.

  “Meet my brother law Jim, Bertha, kind of a whiney butt isn’t he.” PD said as the man started babbling about how PD had kidnapped him and his family.

  “Whoa, Whoa! Hang on now you can have your say later. What’s this all about PD?” Clem asked

  “Everyone can come out its safe!” PD called out and then motioned Bertha and Clem to go up the trail a bit to have a private discussion away from the assembling complaining group forming up from the woods.

  Crick, David and Loomis leaned up against the truck looking at each other and the spectacle unfolding before them in disbelief while exchanging “what the hell?” looks every once in awhile. Ben and Rossi took out their pocket knives and assisted everyone in losing what was evidently nothing more than hastily cut silver duct tape that had been their former bindings.

  “You see Clem they all family and I only kidnapped them for their own good. Me and Cousin Rich got out of the big city Chicago and went to one of the small outlying towns to stay with my loud mouthed brother in-law and my sister until we could figure out what to do. I could see the writing on the wall and knew that it was suicide not to head for the country but you might say everyone didn’t agree with me and needed a little persuasion to bug out so I tricked them at first saying we were going to a friend’s farm but after a couple of states or so they soon caught on to my little deception and tried to escape so I duct taped them. All they had to do to be free was agree to move in with me at the marina and not cause no trouble but they wouldn’t hear of it, said they wanted to go to the FEMA camps. I would of let them and been glad of it if it weren’t for the children, well most of the children anyway, that bratty boy Merlin is just like his daddy Jim. Him I wouldn’t have minded handing over at the first road block we came across. Anyway, I was going to turn them a loose as soon as we got to the marina. I got food and supplies stored there and I was thinking they wouldn’t dare try to escape and walk out of here. I was going to keep them locked up a few days in the warehouse kind of like you acclimate chickens to a pen and a barnyard and then give them the run of the place and hope by then they saw things my way but you all sort of spoiled my plans.” PD advised looking at Clem and Bertha with mirth in his eyes.

  “My oh my but you a strange one Dixon. I am sorry I pointed my shotgun at you but I thought sure one of them headaches you gets done frazzeled your brains. I still not quite sure you operating with a full deck but I can see how you wanted to save them children from their parents mistakes but ain`t that their decision?” Bertha said not sure what to do or say now.

  “No it isn’t their decision and they are the ones with scrambled brains. I got food enough to carry us for awhile stored up and a safe place to ride this out for a bit until they come to their senses. Clem I got a van stuck in the mud back up the road a bit that I would appreciate some help getting out in a few days if you would and Bertha I would pay you to help me cook and get these folks settled in.” PD said

  “There you go wanting to pay someone for some neighborly cooking but I can’t, I got a bigger crew than you got that needs tending to.” Bertha said and her and Clem explained about the prepper situation until Jim and Rich`s ranting interrupted them once more.

  “I will come by and talk to you tomorrow Dixon, maybe if we gone those two will shut the hell up, meantime we need to be getting back to the plantation before folks get worried and send out a another rescue party or something. I don’t envy your Lot at all, good luck.” Clem said and told everyone to get back on the truck.

  “That’s it? You’re just leaving? That makes you accomplices!” Jim said looking like he was going to start frothing at the mouth.

  “We done told you that there ain`t no police around here and you damn lucky we ain`t helping him tie you all up again! Clem said cranking up the truck and getting ready to leave.

  The trip back to the plantation was filled with laughter as everyone recounted their fears and relief as well shaking their heads at the situation PD was not stuck in, glad they were going to be soon far removed from it.

  .

  4

  GETTING ORGANIZED

  “Ok, listen up everyone we will be having a meeting in ten minutes at the flag pole” Lowbuck said repeatedly going from individual campsites to assorted groups with Karen and Neil in tow collecting names and organizing work group member sheets. These sheets were basically a roll call of all the members in your squad as the military minded were apt to say or a stick meaning a work party that could be assigned a task as a group as Clem had pointed out was his way of organizing the sharecroppers on “his” plantation platoons.

  Clem was a stickler about him being assigned as caretaker to the plantation by its rightful owner many, many years before the grid had gone down and society started a quick collapse soon after a cyber and terrorist attack had broken America’s infrastructure down to something that resembled Sherman’s march to the sea as cities burned and carnage and desolation ensued. Clem’s title as leader was as hereditary as it was hard earned and he took it very seriously. He had changed in mind, body and appearance as the role of kick starting the old plantation had become his and his alone to achieve. No one had the knowledge or the experience to undertake the task with modern or primitive farming methods.

  Clem lived by himself ++in the old plantation overseer’s house on the hill which could be considered the best and most luxurious structure on the place if you wanted to stretch a point considerably; it was also the only house with anything approaching modern amenities within the 3500 acres. No matter what you called it, it wasn’t anything more than a 3 bedroom sharecropper shack with a sleeping porch and something resembling inside plumbing that still functioned somewhat. The structure was over a hundred years old if it was a day and it had been maintained by its various occupants as best they could for a century or so with varying degrees of money, lack thereof, or waning incentives to improve the place. Its paint was faded, it’s partial tin roof rusty in places but all in all it was solid. Clem himself was a throwback to a bygone era of overalls, craggy calloused hands and the deep set wrinkles on his old tanned face and neck that represented what working hard sunup to sundown for a lifetime in the hot Alabama sun in dusty fields and sweltering pine woods will do to you.

  The matriarch of this place, if you could call her that was grand old black woman with very country ways called Bertha. This comical, loving and sometimes downright dangerous woman descended from slaves, freemen and sharecroppers who had lived for generations in this area never going more than 60 miles away from this place their whole lives. There was always a division amongst the races before civil rights but there was also a truth most history books fail to recognize, poor doesn’t recognize race and made neighbors out of us all. That is however certain balances were maintained in places like this plantation where White, Black and Metis (French for meaning mixed blood, usually used by native Americans or The first people in Canada to indicate quantum blood) all worked on the same land for the same wages but lived separate for the required social appearances of the day prescribed sake but intermingled as the best of friends daily without such divisions mattering or being observed. Oh sure certain prejudices occurred but as a whole it was trust and respect your neighbor no matter what color or station in life and call on them when in need or offer
assistance if you can if you saw they needed you.

  Bertha lived down in a section of what was called the “bottoms’ or at the bottom of the hill closest to the fields in what once was the colored section of the sharecropper houses. Clem lived at the top of the hill in the tool pusher’s house that sat between the bottoms and an area called the shacks which were reserved for white tenant farmers or sharecroppers.

  Those two old souls were the last of their generations and possibly bloodlines. They lived in separate houses because they always had and they both were fiercely independent and reminded each other daily they each had their own homes and household rules the other needed to abide by. There daily bickering over such trivial or not so trivial things was great sport to them and sort of formed their relationship with each other.

  For folks that didn’t know them from Adams house cat you might say they were the original odd couple in many ways , both at once hating and loving the other while being as different as night and day when it came to certain traits they exhibited. However this was not the true case, they were neither a couple, nor would they tolerate anyone saying they had latent tendencies to be one. They were, what they were, Clem and Bertha, a unique and highly refined product of their southern backwoods environment and childhood friendships. What they had and what everyone should be lucky enough to have was a unique way of identifying with each other as a kindred spirit that recognizes a lifetime of memories and expectations out of one another.

  All this background was well and good for the survivors to consider regardless of their as Clem said “Yankee approval” or Redneck guesses to relationships but the fact of the matter was they were guests and they could dance to him and Bertha`s fiddle or clear out! It didn’t make him no never mind if folks didn’t understand the ways of this place or for that matter don’t be assigning no thoughts to him and Bertha the way they wanted things done, just do them and get along or get out! Neither one of them needed any further reminders that times had changed, hell they both seen more changes in life than one man could study. The thing was that everybody needed to know their place and their function in the here and know and Clem and Bertha were getting impatient to tell them.

  “Now you all listen up to me! My names Clem and this here is Bertha to those that we ain`t personally shook hands with yet or if you forgot. Don’t worry if you haven’t been formally introduced or have forgotten our names cause none of that matters at the moment because I am about to give you reason and dread on both accounts.’ Clem said scowling at the assembled group wondering why this silly and they thought friendly old man’s demeanor had changed so much.

  Bertha took on a dominant look of her own and stood next to Clem who had grabbed the flag pole solidly and looked around for effect knowing Bertha presented an imposing figure leveling her pokey stick at the crowd in a Moses parting the Red Sea manner to eye anyone challenging their authority.

  “First off I want you to be welcome to the Mc Cloud Plantation. I wish you well and if you work hard you will be rewarded. If you slack on me or your fellow field hands you won’t be punished…. You will be rejected. Dismissed from this plantation I don’t speak this threat idly so if you think you can’t take orders from me and Bertha clear out now or go talk to David and Crick about sticking you back on that island they pulled you off of.” Clem said motioning at the pair whispering in shock as to what the old codger was up too and waiting for their go ahead to speak further.

  “Y’all Listen up and hear him out before you start bitching, this man is the reason you’re here and safe and fed!” Crick said half nice and half warningly not knowing what was exactly expected or where this conversation was going.

  Loomis and LowBuck were working the crowd and took their duties to maintain order seriously.

  “Hey you all hush! Listen to the man. We are on his property and eating his food the least you all can do is gather round and listen up politely .” was voiced and enforced as Neil and Karen trailed the two men on separate paths cajoling, reassuring or reaffirming the groups need to shut up and listen to the wisdoms that were about to be put out.

  “Now this little speech has been given on this plantation a number of times before but never under such bad conditions as we face now. Those that want to stay and try to make a crop, the good Lord willing , won’t receive no pay and very little food until we make enough extra to barter and sell. If you got any money I want you to donate to the common cause and see if we got enough to buy some livestock if I can find any for sale. Your home gardens are yours to keep, the big field crop you own shares in. The split is 50/50 with landholders, that’s me and Bertha getting half. I f that don’t work out equitable we will make adjustments after we see what we got to work with. Those that is leaving can stick around heal up some. I understand Loomis and Crick are working on some kind of scheme to use that barge to get your cars off that island. I ain`t trying to run nobody off but if you leaving, leave as quick as you can cause you are a drain on resources that us that’s staying ain`t got it to give, even if’n we wanted to. I am the overseer, what I says goes or out you go. Bertha is in charge of everything other than the fields and stock and what she says goes too. If nobody has got any questions I want to have quick meeting with the stick leaders and go over how we going to try to jump start this place.” Clem advised searching the crowds faces for agreement or questions.

  No one spoke up and the crowd began to disperse with hushed but excited talk occurring as everyone began discussing the import of Clem`s words. Crick and David wandered over to where water, wood and other details were being assigned and put in their two cents worth if it seemed appropriate. Clem seemed to have it all down pat though as he come up with a list of tasks to keep everybody busy if nothing else until a crop could be put in the ground. From cutting tomato stakes to spreading used straw from the barns on the home gardens, raking pine straw etc., Clem had insured everyone had something to do and would be doing it instead of having time to worry about their plights. An idle mind and hands was the devil’s workshop as Bertha was wont to say. Bertha got the women together as well as the men to start cleaning out and repairing the sheds, caring for the sick as well as a myriad of other things from soup kitchen chores to the digging up by hand small household gardens.

  Crick had yet to go fetch his plow and disc from his house to break up the big fields and Bertha`s poor mule probably hadn’t worked so much in its life but it tried to please its master while trying once in awhile to pull sneaky tricks on Loomis who could never figure out if the ornery critter liked him or not.

  The paddle wheeled tractor had its duties and Crick tried to figure out how to haul the barge back to Castaway Island to fetch the preppers vehicles back someday and discussed making a grade down the steep slopes to get a road in to load the vehicles which .was a backbreaking task in itself and would have been impossible for the weakened preppers if they didn’t have the tractor to skid trees and pull the stumps out.

  The casino boat had been inspected by Crick and crew for possibilities. The barge had a roll on, roll off ramp that could load passengers or maybe six vehicles but the damn thing was just too big to attempt to move with nothing but a tractor and the small motor boat they had access too. Finding something to move the gargantuan gambling barge was very problematic and moved far down on the list of things to do but it sure would solve the housing problem easier if a method could be found to get it over to the boat landing... Crick and Morgan went back to their homes and got Morgan’s truck and some horses to scout for more transport and extra farming hand tools so generally getting around wasn’t a problem anymore. The plantation used to have tons of hoes, shovels and rakes and such but most rusted remnants of tools needed new handles or the better pieces had been sold off as antique home decorations years ago.

  Morgan had a small old Farmall tractor but it was needed to put in his crops as well as Crick’s place when the time was right and the matter of seed and fuel was a big problem. Fuel wasn’t too bad at the moment because
Crick still had about a half a big 500 gallon storage tank of agricultural gasoline left but extra seed and fertilizer was almost nonexistent. Finding these rare commodities required a lot of head scratching and conversation as to what they could possibly do to acquire such treasures.

  There was enough feed corn seed to put in about 3 acres on the plantation if the bugs, birds, weather etc. cooperated and the preppers could stave off the need to eat it before it was even planted. David asked Crick and Morgan if they had popcorn in their prep stores and that added another four 5 gallon buckets of seed to put in and greatly increased the possible acreage they could grow. Dent corn or field corn is raised as a hard corn for feed or milling into cornmeal, the early green corn can be cooked and eaten like sweet corn but that is not its function. The problem with corn is it takes a shit load of fertilizer and water to make a small crop not and generally is not worth its space and requirements to grow often times.

  David had his worries about them wasting so much time, effort and resources trying to grow this kind of crop in the played out field soil but offered a solution of sorts remembered from his school boy days of how the Indians taught the pilgrims to plant corn. Basically it was planting hills with small fishes and corn seeds.

  David had no doubts this method would work but whether or not there could be an abundance of small fish caught to perform such a scheme and not be needed to be eaten or used as bait was iffy so he kept his thoughts to himself for now. Clem probably had more farming tips and tricks in that old head of his than the library of books Dave had or for that matter anyone he had ever met when it came to making do or doing without and raising a crop than he could ever imagine.