by Ron Foster
David didn’t really have to ask the surviving relatives exactly why they wanted to bury her on their homestead, but like an old goombah he was he asked them anyway. Sometimes you just don’t think things out. The boy said him and his grandpa had decided it was neither fitting nor proper to bury the old woman in the city mass graves that were filling up if they had their own land to pick a peaceful plot on. Said the old women would be happier that way in only the way the living can relate to last wishes.
The radio had advised in no uncertain terms awhile back that the closest town’s community mortuaries were full up and that the morgues were way over capacity in the hospitals and with no fuel to run emergency generators for refrigeration that mass graves were a necessary sanitization issue and services were being held to bring out your dead for civil affairs disposal. The National Guard was setting up numerous grave registration rosters to try to keep up with the deceased so a record could be kept of those who had expired and gone to the great beyond, but the boy and his grandpa like many others of like minds or hearts chose not to waste the gas or energy notifying anyone of the women’s passing. They were just going to handle the laying of the woman to rest matter quietly themselves in a more meaningful manner.
.
David thought of the boy begrudgingly as an arrogant nare do well occasional hardcore druggie that under normal conditions he needed to avoid and not associate with. However, under these conditions he would not refuse anyone in there time of need and one thing lead to another and soon they were both digging the hole with a self serving passion while sweating profusely preparing to give the old woman’s bones back to the earth in a solitary respectable grave in a backyard clearing.
David had allowed himself to cough up and donate to the surviving relatives a bit of food. He made the gesture stating it was to help stabilize the boy’s sick grandfather who was grieving for his wife. David by this act of generosity actually quietly hoped it would buy him some small space of time before he had to do the same kind of funerary duties again for the old gentleman. Old couples have been known to die a week or so from each other.
The boy and his girlfriend acted grateful and friendly enough for David’s kind acts but he had rebuffed any of their efforts to befriend him any further or answer many questions about how he was getting by. He knew all too well that now was not the time for him to be evaluating or accumulating new friends and took on a persona of aloofness and icy suspicion in their regard.
The boy’s (should say mans) name was Will for Willard and the girls or woman’s name was Sally and both had the tattoo freak thing going on that David despised somewhat. His generation considered tattoos as something for the lower class criminals to advertise prison sentences or for the more hardcore type fringe folks to evidence their toughness or something.
David had ever so slowly become much more accepting to the inking your skin fad overtime but generally speaking his first instincts had been proven to right all too often regarding folks he knew wearing piercing and ink to be pretty much disreputable types. Particularly if they were into extremes of this funky trend which in his opinion was nothing more than a distasteful fetish. David particularly didn’t like to see them on women at all. This was because he considered the female form to be the most beautiful creation on earth and it was almost sacrileges to him to watch pretty young women deface themselves and their loveliness in what they considered his uncool geriatric old mans view on how their tattoos looked
His personal opinions aside of the couples constitutional rights to do freely with their own personal appearance as they wished notwithstanding, he could not overlook the feeling all those dreadful tattoos and piercing they sported gave him of the couples chances of being industrious and employable in this world or any other.
That wasn’t the worst feeling he ever had about them though. The feelings he got about them when just barely a week had gone by after they buried grandma and they had stopped for a visit were far worse. The couple had come over to ask of him once more to dig deep and provide for them some rations in a way that felt like, well to him anyway, that they thought they were somehow entitled to it offering nothing in return.
At the funeral he had given to them in his opinion, graciously and without reservations 5lbs each dry weight of parboiled rice and beans, a few cans of corn and 2 cans of spam. That was before they had come to his front door knocking loudly and announcing themselves the following Monday morning wondering if he had anything different to donate to them. Apparently a diet of beans and rice sucked and was not good on their or the old man’s digestive systems and they were wondering if he couldn’t diversify the contents of his next donation to them.
David had not even tried to explain the benefits of Parboiled rice to them. How it actually was better on the old mans stomach etc. Parboiled rice might sound like it's precooked, but it's not. Instead, it's processed quite differently from other types of rice. The resulting grain is cooked and served just as you would white or brown rice. However, because of the special processing, parboiled rice is a better source of fiber, calcium, potassium and vitamin B-6 than regular white rice.
Parboiled rice is especially rich in niacin, providing 4 milligrams, or 23 percent of the recommended daily intake in 1 cup of cooked rice. You’ll also get 19 percent of the daily intake of vitamin B-6. These values are about double the amount you would get from non-enriched white rice. Your body needs B vitamins to metabolize food into energy, but they also fill other roles, such as helping make hormones and neurotransmitters.
Vitamin B-6 removes the amino acid homocysteine from your bloodstream by turning it into other substances. This might help keep your heart healthy; high levels of homocysteine are associated with an increased risk of cardiovascular disease.
These reasons alone were all well and good with David but his thought on the matter were parboiled rice stores on the shelf longer and is more nutritious. That’s a no brainier for a prepper like him. Hell you can even get it in white and brown.
“White rice has a shelf life of up to 30 years if it is stored in a cool dry place sealed in a container with oxygen absorbers. If stored at higher temperatures it will still last for about ten years. Any added nutrients and flavors will be retained.
Brown rice from the store typically only lasts about 6-8 months due to the oil content in it. If you choose to include this in your food storage make sure you rotate it very aggressively. Commercial packaged instant brown rice designed for longer term storage can have a longer shelf life. Thrive Life has Instant Brown Rice with a 7 year shelf life. That is the longest we’ve ever seen for brown rice according to Food Storage made easy by Jodi and Julie at http://foodstoragemadeeasy.net”.
“My NEXT donation?” David drawled out and asked while raising one eyebrow askance at the pair but otherwise looking quite deadpan.
“Well yea, I mean, well uh... David don’t get me wrong now. We are really grateful man for the rice and beans you gave us and appreciate the kindness. But you know how it is; we were just hoping that you might maybe throw a few cans of something different in this time to break the monotony” Will sort of whined as he looked like a weasel to David.
Sally backed him up in his efforts to get on their seemingly well prepared neighbors good side and added “David it was so nice of you to help bury Me-Mah and Papa said to give you his heartfelt thanks again and tell you that you would be in his prayers, but we are almost out of food once again and he would be terribly grateful if we could maybe have some more canned spam or something today.” Sally said hopefully.
David regarded the pair of them evenly for the moment while displaying very little of the uncomfortable emotions he was feeling inside before he spoke.
“I think we need to discuss why it is you think that I offered to donate to you somehow on a regular basis. I admit I gave your family a gift and offered some small help in the future if I could possibly, but I didn’t say it would be a regularly occurring thing.” David replied looking aghast at the
presumptions they seemed to be still holding. Bits of humor from the gallows of humanity were David’s mainstay, but this conversation was going in entirely the wrong direction and his brow began to furrow...
“I thought that you were one of them survivalists. What they do they call them? You know, a Doomsday Prepper like on NatGeo. Don’t you have yourself a ton of stuff all stored up like those people on the show do somewhere for a disaster like this?” Willard said in a “what-cha talking about Willis” like voice. Just as if to be refused by David had never even been considered by him.
“No hell I don’t! I never have said that I did either! Get this straight. I don’t know what Hollywood fantasy notion you are thinking I got put away but I am telling you here and now that just giving you that little bit of shit I gave you the first go round took food out of my belly as well as Julie’s! You two go sit yourselves down over at the picnic table a minute while I think about this and go see what my lady has to say about giving you another care package. Listen, hear me out. I am telling you that I hardly got enough food for myself let alone any extra to spare for anyone! That includes some neighbors that I hardly even know if you get my drift. Now then, I will still try to do something for you if you would please just go sit yourselves over there for a bit while I break this news to the missus and see what we can do about finding you something to eat? But remember, I never took you to raise son, you neither missy.” David advised glaring at Will in an angry exasperated fashion and giving a side-glance at Sally that could have charmed a rattlesnake not to even think about biting or shaking its tail.
Will flinched, dug the toe of his boot in the dirt and directed his somewhat now cowed girlfriend towards the wooden picnic table David had sitting off to the right of his front door. David ignored their mutterings as he closed his front door with a flourish and a with a loud click of the lock went to talk to Julie who was standing guard in a back bedroom with the pistol-handled alley sweeper of a Mossberg cruiser shotgun she had loaded and at the ready if David had needed any help.
David thought to himself “Damned if that couple had any kind of “walk in the front door privileges” now, that is if he ever was even fool enough to invite them into his home under even normal social conditions. Right this minute, they are here by permanently shit out of luck to enter his abode.”
The word prepper was unheard of just a few years ago. Average people don’t relate the word normally to identify the self reliance or prepper community as people who use the word on thousands of prepper-specific blogs, websites, and YouTube videos. No they prefer or expect the NatGeo show version of a rich odd person they were exposed to in a reality show. NatGeo chose some whack jobs for a show about how some people prepare for a disaster and now folks want to add that “doomsday prepper’ label on to him and everyone else in the preparedness community. A lot of those people on the show were some kind of rich eccentric survivalist that had all kinds of preps coming out their ears’ David mused thinking about the fact that he was far from rich, but his kitchens counters at the moment had evidence of much more food preps than he was admitting to the couple or to anyone else for that matter. He had spent the morning dragging them out of everywhere and the cans and boxes were out on display awaiting him and his sweetie’s inventory to do some prepper planning on how they should regulate their accumulated foodstuffs over the days and months ahead. Not a good thing for those two outside to catch even a glimpse of his small hoard.
“David I only caught a small piece of that conversation. Do they really expect to come down here whenever they have a need and you to supply them with food?” Julie said looking angry and then peeking around the corner of the blinds at the couple with the pistol grip 12 gauge shotgun in her white knuckled small hands.
“I guess the fools think so, but I will soon rectify that dumb notion quick enough. It isn’t time yet baby to start a war with them or any other neighbors just yet if a bit of threatening or hollering can keep them away.” David said ominously in a hushed tone that she evidently picked up on and followed up with an abrupt no nonsense reply of poking a threatening gun barrel forward gesture in their unseen general direction with the scattergun.
“Geezus! “ David thought, knowing that the first round out of that thing could sink a boat with its 3 inch shell loaded with 42 pellets of No. 4 Buckshot. Follow up that shot with 5 rounds in succession of 2 3/4 (12) pellet nickel plated double ought buck and he doubted he would not even have a picnic table left if she made good on the threat with any kind discharge towards them .” A very wicked weapon indeed David had decided.
“I chose the right gun didn’t I David?” Julie said looking back into the bedroom and seeking his approval as she questioned herself about having not chosen her .22 rifle instead for this possible encounter.
“Yea baby your doing fine. They are ok, nothing much to worry about from them today and if not that shotgun persuader you are toting could of put them in every shot glass in Chicago. Don’t sweat yourself about them bothering us at all for now darling, you and I already guessed correctly they were coming back over wanting a hand out. Now they are here and they are and what they are. Thing is now what are we going to do about it?” David said peeking out the window at the couple. They saw him and didn’t look away any too quick, sort of like they were still waiting on him to give them an expected invite to come in.
David eyed the pair and thought to himself “Well the nerve of those two!” As far as he was concerned, they were pretty much just strangers when you got down to it. For them to come knocking on his door looking for him to “redistribute” his canned goods in their direction like it was expected of him was ludicrous. Friggin people were just plain crazy”.
“David? Did you tell him and tell him in no certain terms that from now on he had to hunt for his own food or that maybe they just needed to move themselves on somewhere away from here more apt to have food for them like a relocation camp?” Julie said uncomfortably while watching the front door like it was going to be kicked in possibly by the unsavory hungry pair.
“No I haven’t, not yet. I am still strongly thinking about how best to say that and calm everyone down some. You know when desperation reaches its peak people don’t get scared as easy or show any fear to a threat real or not. You can be sure though Julie that he already is trying to hunt some on his own and since we haven’t heard a gunshot from their direction he hasn’t seen shit to shoot at or he would have been popping caps with whatever firearms he has over there. That’s a weird thing by the way that we haven’t heard any shots coming from over to their place. That grandpa of his bragged to me once that he normally has several deer on the property at 5am and more crossing at sundown everyday, but as you know the deer have changed their normal trails and directions it seems.” David said pondering the possible causation of the lack of gunshots heard from a house where it was normal to occasionally hear something going off occasionally, even if it was nothing else but celebratory gunfire of a few rounds on a holiday.
“You have been saying David that the deer are acting weird anyway, maybe then going to the camps is for them. By the way, I am not going to let you forget that you wouldn’t even allow me to take a shot at that buck standing next to your garden last week.’ Julie said grousing about David’s adamancy not to interfere in any way with the deer on his property normal migration and feeding patterns for awhile because he felt they needed to be undisturbed and not hunted close in until they really needed them.
“I have explained my reasoning on that to you Julie a hundred times over. I cannot monitor the deer’s trails or figure out their numbers if we mess with what they are currently thinking are some safe clear paths this close to the house. What I think has happened to make them so skittish and confused is that these damn hunters around here have pulled out all the stops and are dumping whatever kind of bait or scent they got in their hunting areas to increase the chances of a kill and confusing them with odd smells and signals. The wind and the woods for miles around here a
re being convoluted with man scent and deer attractant. The problem with that is if you make an artificial salt lick or a rut you scent away the deer herds from a normally traveled trail. Then it is up to the bucks or odd does that decide most everything’s not right and they make new trails to seek food or avoid danger just like during regular hunting season. The age old traditional forest trails are all convoluted now except the ones running across my property exiting that low lying boggy area in the back of my property down by the creek. We need to keep them trails as is and put nothing like a snare set up to molest them or even so much as put out a bait to guide them elsewhere for now. We have got ourselves plenty of stored food for a good period of time and like I told you, in deer terms we are thought of as an island of safety or recuperation in these stressful hunting times. Not hunting them now will payoff for us in spades later.” David said remembering Julie’s excitement to protect the garden as well as put some fresh meat on the table and prove to her and her man that she was fully capable of ranger living and bagging a deer all by herself.
She had begrudgingly lowered her gun on what would have been her first deer and in her opinion could have performed a major supportive accomplishment to “prepper shack” by adding some game meat to their diets when David had unexpectedly put a hand on her weapon and spoiled her exuberance with a hushed admonishment to “let it pass.’ The deer had noticed them watching her, but the buck had retreated unhurriedly away from their presence.
