King nodded approval. “Understood. A man, who runs his house right, has his woman at the table with him.”
Dorrie set a small pitcher of milk and a bowl of sugar on the table and asked Max to get cups from the cabinet. She brought the teapot and placed it on a round ceramic tile already there.
“Help yourselves.”
Otis reached for the pot and poured into his father’s cup before filling his own. The next few minutes were devoted to pouring and mixing. The ritual helped Max and Dorrie overcome the news about Wallace and concentrate on the purpose of the meeting.
Between the two of them, they outlined their thoughts about the possibility of money becoming worthless in the near future and related their idea about prepaying for the livestock. They told them they would also prepay for help getting their farm started and for labor and advice the first year.
King didn’t respond right away. He tapped Otis’s shoulder and pointed to the teapot. Otis poured him another cup and placed the milk and sugar close. King poured a little milk into his cup and then added three heaping spoons of sugar, taking his time to stir them in.
“Let me see if I got the right handle on this. Paying in advance for the livestock makes sense. That way you knows they be there when you’re ready for’em. The other, I’m still trying to wrap my mind around. How am I supposed to know how much to charge ya when I don’t know how much a draw you folks will be on us? Jacob, ya got any idea how ta figure this? Keep in mind we need every dollar we can part from ‘em.” King looked at Max and smiled. “I’m a straight shooter when it comes ta money. I want as much as I can get, but not in a cheating way. Fair give for fair get will serve us all.”
Jacob waited for his father to sit back and take a swallow from his cup. “Max, you and Dorrie will be dealing with King as far as the livestock goes. As he said, the other is a tough batch to come to grips with. Breaking it down, feed for the animals is estimable and will cost what it costs. Same with any equipment needed, feeders, brooders and such. The variable is labor.”
Dorrie spoke to Max. Do you mind if I talk a bit?
“Please, if anyone can chart a clear path it is you.”
Dorrie nodded her thanks for the compliment. “I’ll try to live up to your confidence.” She turned her attention to their guests.
“Let me ask you. In the worst-case scenario... No, that won’t work. Okay. King, Jacob, Otis, you talk about straight shooting and honesty. I’m going to do some of the same. As you said, the main part will cost what it costs. Forget about everything we’ve talked about and let’s approach this from another direction.
“King, you and Jacob, have mentioned the need for hard cash. If you’re like us, you know a collapse is coming. I imagine you’ve made lists and estimates the same as we have. How much is it. What’s the total? How much do you need?”
“We didn’t come here ta air our needs.” King said. “Business is what we’re on.”
Otis touched his father’s shoulder. “I think Miss Dorrie is talking business.”
King gave his Otis a hard look and then turned to Jacob. “Go ahead boy. The lady asked a question.”
Jacob grinned wryly. “Well thank you for putting it off on me. Miss Dorrie, yes we made lists and remade lists. Stockpiling Father and Mothers meds. Supplies for sixteen people. Endless lists that keep shrinking according to reality. The amount still hurts.
Dorrie shook her head. “I’m going to insist Jacob. Give me a number.”
Jacob threw up his hands in resignation. “Twenty-five-thousand will put us close. Any part of that amount you can justify for our labor will be appreciated.”
“Jacob, King, Otis, you are among friends. You have needs, and we have needs. I’m going to let Max handle this from here.”
“Thank you Dorrie. Gentlemen. Straight shooting is our keyword tonight. Dorrie is right. We have needs and so do you. The livestock, King will set the price on in the near future. Supplies will cost what they cost. Jacob, from what I gather, the number you gave is your shrunken amount. Now give me an amount that would cover your original list.”
“Double it.” Jacob said.
“Dorrie, would you mind getting fifty thousand.”
“Thank God. Yes, give me a few minutes to count it.” She rose from the table and rushed to the stairs, taking them two at a time.
“I’ve never seen someone in such a hurry to hand out money in my life.” Jacob said. “Are you sure about this, Max”
“One hundred percent sure. Moneywise, we are at the point of use it or lose it. Money for this deal with your family is an investment in my family’s future. You folks have the knowledge and energy we need, and we have money that you need. Straight shooting. As a matter of fact, I would like to get to know you and your family better.”
King slapped, first Otis’s shoulder, and then reached to slap Jacob’s. “I told you that first day I met these folk they would be our salvation and for you ta stop frettin’. I can smell good people.”
Dorrie came back down the stairs and returned to her chair. She handed Max a bank bag. Max in turned passed over to King and turned to speak to Dorrie.
“I was telling King we’d like to know his family better. What do you think about having a house warming party once we finish moving?”
Otis laughed out loud. “You’ll have to pardon me, but this house won’t hold half of our tribe. We’ve got in-laws, some out-laws too that would raise the roof if they aren’t invited to a welcoming party. We’d swell your home to the bursting point. King, don’t you think it would be a good idea to host a welcome to the neighborhood dinner at your house?”
“I reckon that’d be a right smart thing. Mama loves a gathering of the clan.”
Max drove their guests back to their farm. They invited him in, but he begged off, telling them he still needed to talk to his wife and children about their friend’s death.
CHAPTER FIVE
The newly formed association with their closest neighbor spurred Max to finalize the move from the city. The family was back at their suburban home well before the sun rose. By noon, they’d stacked their personal items in the den, ready to box. In a separate area, they put items they were not sure if the new owners wanted or not. If not, Dorrie would have a charity pick them up.
Max drove to the Home Depot and instead of boxes, purchased heavy-duty plastic bins knowing they would be handy containers for storing feed and other supplies. While he was out, the young couple who bought the home, called Dorrie for permission to stop by to take some measurements.
They told Dorrie not to bother calling for an organization to pick up anything. Since they were starting from scratch, they would go through the leavings in case there was something they could use. Dorrie was tempted to tell them of the fears she harbored about the economy, but knew she would come across as ‘Chicken Little’ to them and held her tongue.
Max refilled the truck with diesel fuel on the way back to load their belongings. He was dismayed to see the price had gone up sixty-cents per gallon in two days.
As they loaded their belongings from the home to the truck, Max felt each load lifted by the hoist represented freedom rather than loss. As agreed, the family members divested themselves of the keys, placed under a large flowerpot by the door.
Dorrie directed Max to a mall housing a large sewing center. With Max, Kelly, and Bobby, pushing carts, she filled several. Needles, embroidery frames and hoops, thread, yarn. She purchased a heavy-duty sewing machine that featured both electric and foot pedal operation. She bought rolls of material, heavy denim, flannel, jersey. On a whimsy, she selected several bolts of colorful flowered prints to add to the flatbed cart the sales clerk brought from the rear of the store.
Kelly noticed a long box that the clerk told them was a quilting frame. After an explanation of quilting, Dorrie and Kelly went on another spree, loading the material and supplies suggested by the clerk onto yet another flatbed. The clerk couldn’t hide her pleasure as she tallied the purchase.<
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Before embarking on the long drive back to the farm, they stopped to eat at a Sub Shop. Dorrie promised them she would dedicate herself to planning their future excursions so they could avoid such places in the future.
The next three weeks were busy times, not only for Max’s family, but for King’s too. King was lucky in that he had numerous hands to spend the small fortune Max and Dorrie had imparted to them.
True to his word, Jacob arranged time for him and Otis to work with Max’s family on their rifle range. Max learned that, among the weapons Wallace signed to them, were two M16A2 assault rifles. According to the brothers, it was illegal to own rifles of that type. There were also two military issue .45 caliber M1911 pistols.
Jacob was pleased with the rifles and pistols. “It seems your friend meant for him and his buddy to have similar weapons. Makes sense too, being able to use the same ammo.”
There were two Remington 20 gauge shotguns with short barrels. Of all the weapons, Jacob and Otis were most excited about the Lee Enfield Rifle. It was a .303 No4T Sniper Rifle with a scope. There was only one of them.
“This is one of the most accurate rifles made, and you have the original scope with it,” Otis told them.
Jacob added, “Yeah, you can shoot a flea off the tip of a dog’s nose at a half mile.” He chuckled after making the claim. “I’m exaggerating a bit, but not by much. Max, we’ll help you zero this baby in, and show you how to load the stripper clips. You’ll want to practice until you’re familiar with its features. You’ve got a hundred rounds for it. You should try to get another thousand.”
They spent two hours the first day at the range, with safety stressed above all. At the end of that time, the brothers declared them capable of firing the weapons, but not much more. After a few more lessons, the three oldest Henderson’s were firing tight groups with the Assault rifles, pistols, and shotguns. Despite their best efforts, the brothers couldn’t rid Bobby of his tendency to close his eyes and jerk the trigger.
Max found that the Enfield felt like a natural extension of himself. The brothers assisted with zeroing it on target. Otis spent time explaining how to judge wind speed and distance in order to adjust his aim without changing the settings on the scope. After the fifth session at the range, Max was firing tight groups as far out as a thousand yards when prone and propped. Dead on accuracy dropped to four hundred yards when standing and free shooting.
Under the guidance of Jacob and Otis, and less frequently, King, Max purchased several loads of lumber and other material from Home Depot and Lowes. Both stores were located in nearby towns. Using plans provided by the O’Donnell family, he built a larger chicken house. In two areas selected by King, he made the forms for concrete slabs. Jacob also had him build a form for a smaller concrete pad near the back of the house to set a larger propane tank.
Jacob, Otis and a few of their older boys helped spread and smooth the concrete delivered by a local supplier. Max found that not only was concrete heavy work, it also had to be moved fast to get it in place before it could set up. After the three sets of forms were poured and broom finished, he was filthy and worn out.
After the concrete cured for a few days, he constructed a shed to house the pigs and another for the goats. A friend of the O’Donnell’s delivered and set in place the immense, reconditioned tank to hold two thousand gallons of propane and made the connections for the supply line to the house. The tank and the filling of it set Max and family back twelve thousand. By good fortune, Max’s accountant had come through with the debit card from closing his IRA account and Max was able to use the card to pay for the propane delivery.
The contractor told him that Jacob mentioned it might be a smart idea to have a large tank installed to store the diesel fuel Max would need to run the tractor and for his truck. After some back and forth about the price and size, they reached an agreement for the installation of a two-thousand-gallon above ground tank to hold the fuel. This installation called for another concrete pad. Since the dimensions for the new pad were relatively small, Max, now thoroughly schooled on the art of concrete work, did the pour single-handedly, placing it close to the propane tank. The setting in place and filling of the diesel tank relieved them of another fifteen- thousand.
Dorrie declared the view of the monstrous tanks through the kitchen window to be eyesores, but professed she was glad to see them in place.
Jacob came by a few hours after the diesel fuel delivery. Max took him behind the house to see the completed installation.
Jacob stood with his hands on his hips and looked at the tanks.
“Funny how something ugly can be beautiful at the same time. I’m glad you went with the commercial tanks. We’ve got the same at our farm, except we have two tanks of each. Thanks to you and your family, we were able to top all of them off. Since our acreage under tillage is a lot more than yours, I figure you should be good for a couple years or better, fuel-wise.”
“God, I hope so,” Max said. “I never realized farming was so expensive.”
“You’re starting from scratch. Speaking of scratch, Otis and I are making several runs to the feed supply store on Wednesday, the day after tomorrow. You’ll want to follow us in your truck and load up. King’s ordered hay delivered too, bales rather than rounds. He included what you’ll need, three hundred bales. Best be on hand tomorrow to show Buddy James where you want his boys to put it. I’d suggest a hundred bales on the platforms in the barn and the rest in the loft.”
“Let me know the cost of my part, and I’ll reimburse King.”
“You can ask him yourself this Sunday at the welcome party. Mama said to bring a platter. She suggested biscuits. You’ve never seen a family eat biscuits until you see the way we wolf them down.”
“Dorrie and the kids are going to be excited. They’ll be glad to see a day that’s not a workday.”
An hour after Jacob left, he returned. Max was in the barn removing nails from the boards he’d used to form the pad for the diesel tanks. He heard the roar of a diesel engine well before Jacob drove a tractor into the entrance of the barn. As he dismounted, Max could tell by the look on his face that something was up.
“Have you heard any newscasts today?”
Max laid his hammer on his workbench. “No.”
“You have cable?”
“We do. What's going on, Jacob?”
“A fucking mess is what’s going on. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to curse. King sent me to let you know the crap’s hit the fan. Earlier today, the National Guard slaughtered a group of protesters in Washington DC, right in front of the Capitol. A while ago, terrorists attacked a bunch of refineries. I need to hurry home. I’ll try to come back later.”
Max raced to the house. Dorrie and the kids were in the basement assembling plastic shelving purchased from the building supply. He called for them to come up and went to the living room. He keyed the remote and changed the channel to CNN. Dorrie and the kids, sensing the urgency of his tone when he called for them, rushed into the room just as the station changed. On the screen was an aerial view of a refinery on fire, they caught the voice over in mid-sentence.
“... on American soil at just past five AM Eastern Time. The confirmed number of refineries affected by this act of terrorism now totals thirty-seven in the lower forty-eight states. Twelve more have been hit in Alaska. Other nations reporting attacks on refineries are Mexico, Canada, Wales, The Netherlands, Germany, and Russia. Confusing and unsubstantiated reports of more targeted installations are still pouring in.
“In our nation’s Capitol, authorities are still trying to determine how a scheduled demonstration by homeless advocates, turned violent. Initial eyewitness reports, that the Capitol police opened fire without provocation, are false. Exclusive video footage, obtained by CNN, clearly shows several masked men among the demonstrators, opening fire with automatic weapons towards the capitol building. The Authorities now say that the initial estimate of thirty-six killed and forty-two wounded will b
e updated soon. Among the dead are three of the masked assailants. As you can imagine the chaotic...”
Dorrie was stunned. “Oh my God, Max, this is it.
They continued glued to the screen, changing channels when one would become repetitious. Refineries in Texas, Louisiana, and a host of other locations were burning out of control. Already fuel prices at the pumps were climbing, some places reporting prices as high as twenty dollars per gallon. Rioting broke out in almost every major US city.
The US was not the only country in distress. The chaos was global. Graphic footage from Italy and Berlin of citizens killed, shown side-by-side with footage of Americans dying. Soon, there were too many hotspots of violence and turmoil. A dismayed newscaster on Fox News threw his hands in the air and walked off camera. The networks couldn’t keep up with the sheer bulk of incoming bulletins and updates.
Dorrie decided they’d seen enough and turned the screen off.
“We can tune in later when the networks get their acts together. We need to eat, and I still have things to sort in the basement.”
Max agreed with her, but not totally. “We need to keep an eye on the situation, but you’re right, the reporting is chaotic. Bobby and Kelly can take turns checking every so often. As awful as it looks, who knows, next thing might be nukes launching.”
“Shut up Max,” Dorrie said. “I’m already scared shitless... And don’t correct my language.”
Kelly spoke. “Dad, I’ll keep track on my pocket radio while I help mom. If I hear anything that needs immediate attention, I’ll let you know.”
Max returned to the barn to finish the work he’d begun. He tried to come to grips with the disasters unfolding all over the world, but he simply didn’t have enough information. After removing the nails and stacking the lumber with an existing pile, he resisted the temptation to go back inside and turn on the screen. Dorrie was right. Better to wait until later when the information would be more coherent.
Max wheelbarrowed several of the old bales of hay to the goat shed. He cut the cords binding the bales and began spreading hay on the concrete floor in preparation for the delivery of the goats from the O’Donnell’s. Bobby came out to let him know supper was ready. Max noticed his son seemed unusually subdued. He tussled, Bobby’s crew-cut brown hair, and then put his arm across his shoulder as they walked to the house.
DISASTER: Too Late to Prep Page 6
