CHAPTER 21
The morning was minimally brighter than yesterday. The gray, ash-filled clouds looked thicker and more ominous as we drove out of the confines of the military base.
“Don’t you give me any grief about me driving, Colonel. You’ve done ninety-nine percent of the driving ever since we left Moose Creek,” I snapped at him.
“My lips are sealed. By the way, what did you say to Steve that made him ask me about your rank?” Major Kopley had stopped by the infirmary while I was bringing the Humvee around.
“Oh,” I hesitated, “he threatened to order us to stay on base for the week, so I had to lie a bit more.” I told Jim what I said and he laughed.
“That would make you a Lieutenant Colonel, Allex, the only rank that separates a major and a full bird colonel. No wonder he was so solicitous.” He laughed again. It was good to see him in a pleasant mood.
*
I pulled into the parking lot of the trailer rental, where the unit we wanted waited still jacked up. I finished changing the tire, spun the lug nuts on, and consented to Jim tightening them down, one handed. Together we got the trailer attached to the Hummer and were soon on our way again.
I found the entrance to the subdivision easily and wound around the curves cautiously until we came to the long driveway.
“Everything looks the same,” Jim commented as I ascended the still smooth concrete. The first thing I noticed was the grass turning green and the towers of dried leaves piled in the corners of the portico. We’d been gone a month. I made a full circle on the oval apron, aiming outward, and then backed up a few feet.
“I’ve never been very good at backing up a trailer, so if you want it closer, you’ll have to do it yourself,” I said, getting out of the big vehicle. I retrieved the door key from where we had hidden it weeks ago, and after testing that the door was indeed still locked, I inserted the key. We both drew our weapons and I nudged the door open. Crushing dried leaves underfoot, we entered the house.
We cleared each floor as we had done before. All was as we had left it.
“I think it’s safe to bring our gear in,” Jim said.
“In a minute. I want to turn the generator on first and get the water heating,” I said. “I’m looking forward to a long, hot bath tonight!”
“And ice cubes,” Jim joked. “Don’t forget the ice cubes!”
With the power back on, the garage door opened smoothly. Jim backed the trailer in and we disconnected it from the Hummer. “It makes sense to keep the trailer out of sight even if there isn’t anyone around.”
We emptied the Hummer quickly, leaving only the empty cooler, the chainsaw, and the tent in the back. The weather had gotten cooler and we’d need our sleeping bags tonight.
*
“So what’s our plan of action, Colonel?” I asked as we sat at the kitchen island with a cup of steaming hot soup.
“I think we should load up the cases of wine and the liquor first, and put the food in last,” he said. “Yes, I’m being selfish, Allex, but by God we’ve earned that booze and we’re keeping it. The food we’ll decide what we want and give the rest to the community kitchen. Agreed?”
“No argument from me. I doubt many in Moose Creek would appreciate the quality of the wine downstairs. Not that they couldn’t learn, but I’m not about to hold a teaching wine-tasting party!” I laughed at the thought, and then sobered when it reminded me of Bob and Kathy and how generous they had been with me, especially with their friendship.
We lit up the basement and started hauling the cases of wine to the parquet dance floor. I selected a couple of bottles for our enjoyment during our stay and we each took a case up the stairs to the waiting trailer.
“This is going to take us a while,” Jim lamented.
“It is what it is, Jim. We can’t use the dolly. Even two cases are too heavy for me to drag up the stairs, and you’ve only got one hand for now. Don’t worry about it. We will take however much time we need. If it takes two days or a week, that’s okay. We’re only one day from home.”
Once I said that, the reality of our trip coming to an end hit me hard. For all the trauma, the injuries, the sorrow, the good and the bad events, it had been a remarkable adventure, one that I would remember and cherish the rest of my life.
*
A dozen cases of wine were now tucked into the forward most area of the trailer. When everything was in, we’d tie it down so it couldn’t slide in case of a sudden turn.
“There are still a dozen cases down there! These people sure invested heavily into their habits,” Jim observed.
“That’s what Bob and Kathy considered it too: an investment. And one that brought them much pleasure,” I said wistfully, thinking again about my friends.
“I’ve decided to do something I wasn’t going to, Jim, and that’s clean out the refrigerator. If we’re going to be here for a couple days I think we will be more comfortable with that convenience. You might want to open a few windows and then stay outside until I’m done. It’s bound to really stink.”
I put on a face mask doused with some perfume from one of the guest rooms and cautiously opened the refrigerator. Much to my surprise and delight, it was nearly empty. A bottle of catsup and one of mustard sat in the door, and a hard as rock slice of cheese in the drawer, that was it. I put the two bottles and cheese in a garbage bag and tied it closed. We’d worry about it later. I wiped the inside of the refrigerator down with some cleaner from the bathroom and dragged the cooler over.
“Say, have you found a grill anywhere? We have steaks for tonight,” I reminded Jim.
He eyed the plate I set the steaks on. “Those are huge. Why don’t we split one tonight and the other tomorrow?” he suggested.
“Excellent idea. I’ve been organizing the downstairs pantry and found some canned potatoes. I thought those mixed with some rehydrated onions and heated up on the grill in foil packets would go well with the steaks.”
“Sounds good to me,” Jim said. “While I was outside, I noticed some darker clouds in the west, and the wind was picking up. We might want to cook early.”
I seasoned the single steak with salt and pepper and set it back in the now cool refrigerator. The foil packets were ready for the grill, too. I fixed Jim and me a drink and stepped outside where he was starting the grill.
“How’s your hand feeling?” I asked, handing him the vodka over ice.
“A bit sore. I think I overdid it today,” he said. I noticed he had put the sling back on and was holding that hand close to his body.
“It’s going to be that way for the next couple of days, Jim, no matter what you do or don’t do, and it’s going to take a month to heal. Do you want a pain pill? You can’t have any more to drink if you take one though.”
“I think I’ll pass on the pill.” He lifted his glass to me. “This tastes better.”
The storm struck during the night with a fury I haven’t seen in a very long time. The wind howled through the trees and the rain mixed with hail pounded on the glass. Lightning flashed every few minutes, followed by deafening thunder. The temperature took a nose dive and I snuggled deeper into my sleeping bag.
JOURNAL ENTRY: May 15
I had hoped the storm last night would have washed the ash out of the sky for a while. I was disappointed when all I could see was more dark clouds and a steady flow of icy rain.
~~~
Jim was standing next to me while I stared out into the gloom.
“Well, I suppose the good news is we don’t have to go out in that mess,” he said.
The hot coffee warmed my still aching chest as I sipped on my second cup.
“And without the temptation of a nice day, we should get a lot of packing done,” I concurred.
“Anxious to get home, Allex?” Jim asked without taking his eyes off the falling rain.
“Yes, and no,” I answered truthfully. “We’ve been gone for over a month now, and I miss my family. Yet in spite of all that has happened,
I’m sorry to see our trip come to an end. How about you?”
“I wouldn’t trade this past month for anything. Especially point B,” he smiled and kissed me. I couldn’t help but respond.
“That’s been a surprise bonus.” I returned his smile and went back to the kitchen before the conversation could get too serious.
“I think we should leave one, maybe two cases of wine in the hidden cellar,” I said to Jim, “just in case we make it back here someday.”
“I like that idea,” he answered. “Gives us something to look forward to.”
We stacked more boxes of wine in the trailer throughout the morning, and then tackled the liquor. The wine and alcohol took up more than half of the small trailer.
“I didn’t realize there was this much to go,” I said, gazing into the back of the packed hauler.
“Do we have enough boxes for all the loose cans of food?” Jim asked.
“I doubt it. Maybe we should check out a couple of the houses for more.” I opened a drawer in the kitchen and removed the notebook I had so carefully kept of our finds, and thumbed through the pages. Two houses held promise for some plastic bins.
“We better wait until tomorrow, Allex, it looks icy out there,” Jim said after opening the front door. All the time we had spent in the basement and packing, I hadn’t once looked outside, and now, everything had a thin coating of ice.
“Looks like another early dinner.” I wasn’t really disappointed, it meant one more quiet evening together before going back to reality. What was reality? Here and now? Or there and then?
With the dinner dishes in the dishwasher, we settled down in front of the fire and played cribbage until dark. I lit a candle by the game board so we could continue after shutting the gennie down for the night.
“Allex, I’m done with cards for the night,” Jim said, and blew out the candle. “Let’s discuss point C…” His voice was soft and seductive in the dark.
May 16
The day dawned cool and dreary, however, the temps had climbed enough during the night to melt the coating of ice, making it possible for us to do some scavenging.
“Brr! It’s chilly out there. I’m glad I brought that hooded sweatshirt and gloves,” I said. I took a shower early so my hair could dry, and dressed in jeans with a long sleeved shirt. The belt with the holster had become as much a part of my attire as my shoulder holster once had. And I must admit I liked the belt holster better.
“You look different out of uniform,” Jim remarked. “It’s going to take some getting used to.”
“I don’t see any reason to keep wearing the fatigues when the chances are very slim we’ll run into anyone.” Jim looked disappointed. “In another month you’ll be looking at civilian clothes too.”
“I know. Still, you look good in a uniform…and out of one, too.” He stepped closer and cupped my chin, delivering a gentle and promising kiss. The display of affection caught me off guard. I must admit though, it’s kind of nice and something I’ve missed.
After I changed the tattered bandages on Jim’s hand, adding plenty of antibiotic cream, we ventured out. The pavement was wet where the ice had melted and the grass crunched under our feet. Two doors down, where I had made notes of packing material, was almost a quarter of a mile away. The air was crisp and clean and felt good on my skin. Overhead, the clouds had thinned, though I think the grayness was now something that would be with us for a long time.
“Here it is,” I said, checking the address against my pad of paper. “All I wrote down was ‘packing stuff’ and quite honestly I don’t remember what I meant by that.”
“Only one way to find out,” Jim said and pushed the door open. The place was a mess! We both drew our guns.
“Someone has been here,” Jim whispered. That was an understatement, considering every house we had been in was neat and orderly, and we left them the same way. This one looked ransacked.
We inched around the doorway, only to see even more disarray. We cleared each room on the first level and went upstairs. In the second room, we found them. Mickey, the young man we met weeks ago when we first hit Hwy. 41, and presumably his girlfriend, were in the bed, quite dead.
“From the dried vomit on their faces and the pillows, my guess is they OD’d from pills, and it has been over a week,” I said, walking around the bed to get a better look. “See here, remains of gelatin capsules.”
“He seemed so content,” Jim commented, somewhat disappointed.
“We don’t know what they’ve been through in the last couple of weeks, and honestly, it could well have been unintentional,” I said. “Let’s leave them be and get what we came for.”
We found six new plastic tubs in the basement, along with several rolls of duct tape. When the home owners departed, they must have had these left over; they were brand new. We loaded the boxes on the wagon we brought along and headed back in silence, picking our way around the branches that had come down in the last storm.
“We may have to do this in stages, Jim. One of these bins filled with canned goods would be too heavy for me to lift, let alone carry up the stairs,” I said. “If we fill one maybe a third of the way, then set it in the trailer, we can keep filling it from the next partial box until it’s full. What do you think?”
“Sounds like a plan.” He let out a long sigh. “I feel useless with only one hand. You’re doing all the work and I don’t like it.”
“You’re doing your share, Jim. I’ll bring these up once they’re filled and you can fill the one in the trailer while I get another. We’re just adapting to the circumstances.”
The two of us filled all six bins first with enough for me to carry. We set the first one in the trailer and I brought up another, then another, and I took the empty back down with me. By the time I had brought up all six, Jim was unpacking the fourth one. That gave me time to refill the emptied bins. Two hours later we had moved all of the canned goods into the trailer and secured them. We even took a couple of the heavier blankets from the house to tuck around the boxes. Blankets would always be useful.
“This is going to be one heavy load, Jim. Please tell me the Hummer is up to the task.”
“More than up to it, Allex. These vehicles haul artillery around like it’s not even there,” Jim reassured me. “Are you up to driving it? Our next leg is a long haul.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said confidently, even though I didn’t quite feel it. “I kept out a box of linguini and a can of baby clams. Linguini with clam sauce would make a fitting dinner for our last night.”
“Last night,” Jim repeated.
“It does feel strange, doesn’t it? We’ve been gone more than a month and now we’ll be back home tomorrow. I know I should be exhilarated, though I’m not. I’m going to miss this. For all the bad that’s happened there was also so much that was wonderful.” I turned to him, waiting for him to affirm the good we’ve shared.
“What are we going to do, Allex? About us?” He posed the question we both had on our minds yet were afraid to ask.
“I don’t know, Jim. Maybe we should let it play out on its own. I have a feeling that if we wait, it will all become clear. The solution is there, I know it. I just can’t see it yet.”
This was how I really felt, I realized. The solutions to these dilemmas always, always presented themselves at the right time. I slid my arms around his waist, resting my head against his chest, and we held each other for a long moment. I have so missed this kind of touch. Initially I felt a wave of guilt, then I reminded myself that Mark was dead, not me, and I was still a woman with wants and needs of my own.
CHAPTER 22
April 30
“Okay, the trailer is attached and secure. Are you ready to roll?” Jim asked, leaning on the Humvee, his hand back in the sling.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I had no problem admitting to myself that I was a bit nervous driving with so much weight behind us.
“Go ahead and pull out. I’ll close the garage door,
turn off the generator, and then lock the front door.” Jim disappeared and the big overhead door lowered. A few moments later he climbed in beside me. “I put the spare key in the same place and turned off the gas at the tank.”
I nodded and put the Humvee in gear, easing down the steep driveway.
*
Traveling on US 41 was easier this time since we were aware of the areas congested with abandoned vehicles. We passed through Negaunee and then Ishpeming where the empty semi-trailer was still parked. It was all passing in a blur.
“It’s been over a month,” I said, frowning. “I’m not sure I will recognize the entrance to the mining road.”
“I’ve got a GPS in my head, Allex, I’ll find it,” Jim assured me. And he did. I turned the big vehicle with its heavy payload onto a side road where he indicated and headed north.
“Wow, I would have missed that for sure!” Shortly after, I began recognizing the surroundings. When we came to the rough gravel, I slowed and asked Jim to get the map out.
“Don’t trust me?” he asked with a grin.
“With my life! I only want to see how far it is to that wet area I marked on our way through here before.”
He opened the side pouch where I had put the map. “Looks like maybe another five or ten miles.”
I had slowed to twenty-five miles per hour and chugged along steadily until I saw some shimmering blue a half hour later.
The Journal: Raging Tide: (The Journal Book 4) Page 17
