The Ridiculously Simple Survival Book

by Ron Foster

  “Bert…. I uh, I had no idea... Is there anyone that needs help that I could, you know offer some help to?” Joe said taken down a few notches and feeling pretty bad he had not checked on his neighbors or even cared about them other than complaining that he had to try to avoid them mostly.

  “No, they are all dead or nearly dead you might say by now, some tried to get home to their families somewhere and have left for good. It’s pretty much just a few folks left around here now and we are all on our last few threads of the frayed ropes that we were trying to hang onto. Lack of drinkable water is the main thing, ever since Jessup started wanting payment for that sewer water in his pool; we have been mostly waiting on him to die. That’s another thing to consider, he has got that thirty caliber military carbine rifle and if he wanted to, he could come down here any day wanting what he thinks we got that we won’t trade to him. Now don’t worry about him, if I see him up to no good I will try to shoot him for you if he gets crazy. However, I can’t do anything for us if you just leave me here to waste away.” Bert said putting his hands on his hips.

  “Man, you have had a time of it and I have been a dang selfish fool, it seems. I wish we had us a better place to get water from: that’s one of the things I was going to do today was look around for another pool. That’s why I was going to walk the streets some, you can’t see from the street oftentimes if anybody has one in the backyard. What are you doing for water, Bert? I haven’t seen you at the pond or leaving out much.” Joe said.

  “I do all right in the water department at the moment. You would be amazed how much water I came up with when I finally put my thinking cap on and put my noodle to puzzling out where to find some good places to look at. Take for example, Miss Riley’s place up the road a piece; you can’t drink the water in her pool but you can wash with it. That dang pool is saltwater, who ever heard of a saltwater pool? I never had until she told me it was such. She is dead by the way, bless her soul. Committed suicide one day with a bunch of pills. Odd woman eventually kills herself, but she held a grudge against me to her dying day because I shot somebody.” Bert began before Joe perked up on what he had said and looked at him in astonishment.

  “You shot someone? Were they trying to rob you, Bert?” Joe asked wide eyed.

  “No, they weren’t trying to rob me.” Bert said with a sigh.

  “Sit down, Joe, I got a story I need to tell and you ain’t going to like it. You are probably not going to like it as much as I ain’t going to like telling you about it but things needs to be said so bear with me and don’t judge me too harshly, please.” Bert said sitting down and then staring at a Joe for a second hesitantly.

  “Miss Riley had a good friend in that small retirement home up on the loop that she used to go see in better days. I took her up there once or twice as things were getting bad because she was scared to go up there on her own. About two weeks into this disaster, one of the remaining doctors pulled her off to the side and had a talk with her. You see this retirement home had a small number of apartments for retired but able elderly and a little clinic and rehabilitation ward. The doctor flat out asked Miss Riley if she wanted to take her friend home or did she want to say her last farewells to her there. Well, of course Miss Riley went into shock at such a statement from a doctor and asked just what the hell the man was talking about. Seems this doctor had some firsthand experience with Hurricane Katrina and knowledge of how a lot of patients got euthanized to relieve their suffering when it became known help wasn’t coming and the flood waters were rising at some nursing facilities. He thought the right thing to do was put everyone that was bed ridden to sleep and was contemplating having a spiked Kool aid party for the rest but he didn’t have enough drugs to do the job…” Bert said finding his mouth dry and his beer empty and excused himself to go in the house and get another one and leave Joe to think about what that last statement meant.

  “Bert, I want another beer too, I will pay you for it if you got an extra one.” Joe said questionably and following Bert towards the door.

  “Come on in and get you one. See, I will let you in my house!” Bert said with a dismissive smirk that Joe ignored wanting more information on this horrible chain of events Bert had been describing,

  “So what did Miss O'Reilly do? What did that doctor do lacking enough drugs?” Joe said in awe of what he might hear next.

  “He asked around and found out who was the most reliable military veteran in the place (preferably with combat experience) and approached him. Now, Joe, keep in mind all this is going on while I am there. We got Doc, one loyal nurse and a tech on this possible patient and considering what they were referring to as mercy dispatch. I can’t say that I blame them at all, they didn’t even have to come to work and they couldn’t handle it all by themselves with no resources. They had other responsibilities and needed to get to their own homes to try to survive and if it was just by the grace of God and the personal and professional goodness in themselves that they had stayed on as long they had trying to help them poor folks out. The doctor and his helpers were tired, worn out; the bed ridden folks couldn’t be helped anymore and were lying in their own filth because they were out of supplies so it was a mercy to just let them go and pass over. The other more fit but dying residents was a moral judgment what to do with, it was a quandary to tell them they die if they drink the KOOL-AID and explain the fact that there wasn’t enough for all available if they chose suicide over starvation. Now some of those elderly folk got around pretty good and it didn’t seem fitting that the staff should murder them without asking for input or letting them make peace with their maker in their own way. The doctor and his help were adamant though that day was their last day coming to work and they weren’t going to be around to handhold anyone partaking of the deadly cocktails they were leaving. But that still left about 10-12 people who would be left to their own devices to die naturally.” Bert said getting emotional about this tragedy he had witnessed.

  “So what did you do? What ever happened to her friend?” Joe asked incredulously.

  “Her friend was agile enough but needed some help and was not always with it mentally, if you know what I mean. Miss O'Reilly wanted to take her home with her to let her pass in a better place but she had nothing to offer her food and water wise and I talked her out of doing it. Miss O'Reilly was up in years herself and there was no way she could take on that chore so I suggested she let the Doc give her some of that poison punch and we could stay with her until she went to the other side but Doc said no. Seems whatever kind of crap he had in that diluted stuff didn’t make the going go easy and he felt it would be too hard on us to watch. Doc said it would be better if someone could go room to room giving the residents their doses and not looking back, he said. Well, as you can imagine she wasn’t up for that and the staff wasn’t taking any bribes to give her a bit more than the rest so we were left to our own devices as to what to do. I stepped outside to have a cigarette and contemplate and come up with my own shit, you might say.” Bert said now looking a bit worriedly at Joe who had propped himself on the couch watching him intently.

  “I figured if I wanted to go, an overdose of something that made me feel good might be the best and got to wondering where some strong recreational drugs might be. Hell, two weeks before that event I had a pretty good idea how to score something by thinking I had a general idea where the pushers hung out at but there was no way I was going around that kind of turf these days. Besides that, neither one of us had much cash on hand. Quit looking at me all crazy, Joe… I ain’t told you what happened yet. Bad enough I got to tell you this story let alone you allow yourself to start prejudging me before I finish.” Bert said to Joe who was scrutinizing him to whether or not he had shot the poor old women or not.

  Joe said he wasn’t even thinking that, but he was. He apologized before allowing Bert to continue on with his story.

  “So what I did was after a lot of crying and hiding conversations from her friend was to tell Miss O'Reilly that
Oleander bush she had on her property was deadly poison as I had learned from watching National Geographic from the legend of Myrtles Plantation. I advised her we should gather us some of that. The doctor listened patiently to us but he said he had never heard of it and lacking the internet to research it he couldn’t advise us of a dosage, etc. Well long story short, I know a little about boiling down and concentrating herbs so the next day we gave her a dose and said our farewells to the woman. That wasn’t a good death either but it was swift enough. Miss O'Reilly just couldn’t get over who we had left behind in the home still living and asked me to go check on them about a week later and that’s where the division between us occurred. I went back there against my better judgment to that old folk’s home and in just that short period of time unimaginable horrors had occurred.” Bert said taking a very long sip from his beer and tearing up and blubbering a bit as he managed to roll himself a cigarette.

  “Bert, if you don’t want to tell the rest of this story I will understand.” Joe began.

  “No, it needs telling; I will be alright.” Bert said snuffling a bit.

  “When I got there, Major Simmons was sitting outside under the flag pole with the American Flag in his lap. I said “Hey Major, do you need some help with that? And he looked up at me in a daze and said he didn’t know what to do with it. Do you know what that means when a military officer tells you he doesn’t know what to do with the flag of the United States of America, Joe? I bet you don’t, you’re sorry ass was probably precluded from saying the Pledge of Allegiance in grade school and you don’t know the honor this country used to have for the Stars and Stripes. Anyway, the man started sobbing when I walked up on him and he held it out to me. He said burn it, he didn’t have any matches to do it himself and he said we didn’t deserve to leave it flying! Can you imagine how that affected me?” Bert said getting emotional again.

  “Why would he say that? Old soldiers always honor the flag.” Joe said confused.

  “It’s because the Major in his heart decided things didn’t matter anymore, he had surrendered but he couldn’t let go. He had been sitting there for hours in that same spot trying to decide what he was now in the grand scheme of things and if he had a country left anymore. He told me a story that I had never heard before. He said when he was on the review board of promotions one of his favorite questions was to ask a candidate for sergeant stripes what was in the ball at the top of the flag pole or planted right next to every flag staff on every American military base in the world. I told him I didn’t know and sat down beside him to listen.” Bert said.

  “There are three things to remember that are part of the first flag raising ceremony on a military post. First, you pay with your reverence, salutes and treasure for the symbolization of the flag and insure it has the following: A bullet so the flag can always be defended, a penny so the nation never goes broke, and a razor blade so you can cut down the colors and an enemy can never take them.” Bert said solemnly.

  “Wow Bert, that is pretty profound, thanks for sharing that story. Why don’t they teach that in schools? Never mind, I remember I didn’t protest loud enough when they did away with the Pledge of Allegiance every morning in the lower grades. So what happened to the flag? What did you do?” Joe asked, ultimately depressed now but finding a flicker of patriotism in himself he didn’t know he possessed until now and waited to hear the outcome to this matter.

  “I gave him a salute and said what now and the man asked to borrow my gun. I said for what and he said to shoot himself with which wasn’t happening because I would never give my pistol up for such. He said the folks that drank the Docs Kool-Aid had died horrible deaths choking and gasping for air before going into convulsions and losing body fluids and it was way too much for him to bear. He asked to borrow my pistol to put an end to the misery and the memory that tormented him that he had helped impose that horrible death on others to end their own lives by deception and for some explain a bit of truth of it and handhold. It must have been some horribly agonizing deaths that the old man had observed because he was glassy eyed and a bit incoherent talking about others last moments. He was very insistent he wouldn’t be going out of this world like that.” Bert said taking a long chug from his room temperature beer.

  “This is so heart rending; you didn’t end up giving him your gun did you?” Joe said squeamish and shocked at it all.

  “No, I didn’t give it to him. We raised the flag and went back inside eventually. No man that has any religion at all wants to commit suicide. I knew that and I explained to the Major that I was short on ammo and wouldn’t want his death on my conscience if I needed to squeeze the trigger in his stead. We argued for a while and I ended up shooting two men and a woman that were suffering and lasting longer than they should have before I left that needed it. The only reason I did it was so that I wouldn’t feel so bad later about letting them linger and suffer for a few more days. I don’t want to talk about this further, Joe. You got me? Are we understood?” Bert said now steely eyed.

  “But you said 10 people at least survived, what about them? What about the Major and his flag?” Joe implored not willing to let the story end like this.

  “I told you, I don’t want to ever talk about it again. Shut your mouth and keep it shut regarding that horrible day! I never want to hear this story ever repeated again. I have told you more than I wanted to say already. I ain’t proud of it but I left and never went back.” Bert said with a shudder about leaving the rest to die on their own hopeless and defenseless against the druggie addicts that would eventually consider them to raid looking for prescriptions.

  “So that caused some rift between you and Miss O’Riley, she should have been able to understand why you had to do what you did. You didn’t, you know, end up dispatching her or anyone else did you?” Joe said trying to wrap his head around mercy killings and finding the whole concept hard to digest.

  “No, I never touched her. After I told her the longer version of that story, I just told you she demanded I leave her home and not come back. I didn’t for a while but decided that enough time had transpired and went to check on her, she wrote a note damning me to hell for eternity and from what evidence I could see OD’d in her bed and gave up on the world.” Bert said with some eye rubbing and feeling sorry for himself and others.

  “Bert, you’re a good man, you did your best by those folks. If I were you, I would try not to continue to worry yourself so much on what had to be done, but I know it hurts like hell. You certainly opened my eyes to a lot of things I didn’t know were going on. I take it that you helped yourself to any supplies left and just moved on?” Joe replied.

  “Yes, all that extra water I got is in 5 gallon jugs I got from the old folks home, I got some of that canned ”Ensure” liquid diet stuff from the nursing home and from folks houses around here. Got a lot of beer and booze also, guess they didn’t have the stomach for it and just sort of had it leftover or waiting on guests that would never come. The thing is, here I sit wondering how much nourishment is in a can of beer or bottle of booze.” Bert said, putting all his cards on the table.

  “Well, you still got a bit of pooch to your tummy so I would say your liquid diet was working!” Joe said chuckling and lightening up the conversation before resuming.

  “So what is this secret master plan of yours about getting some supplies that you want me to help with entail?” Joe asked.

  “Well, it’s kind of simple actually, I wish I had thought it up at the very beginning of this crisis, but I guess thinking of it now is better late than never. Joe you know what old people normally do as they get older to pass the time? They read the obituaries everyday so that they know when their friends or acquaintances die. Sucks don’t it? But eventually you start getting the daily newspaper paper because you want to remember them in some way or another. Maybe you do it just for personal reasons to find out who you are out living. I got the newspaper from the day the grid went down and a roster somebody must have left at the old
folks home with all the names and old addresses for some folks getting Meals on Wheels lunches delivered there and other places. We start with that, check out the houses that the obituaries pointed to and have a look at the Meals on Wheels folk’s places that might have passed on but had food maybe left in the cupboard. We are going where we already know the folks are dead at, boy, makes sense doesn’t it” Bert said thinking these types of homes might have something left to eat or drink in them.

  “Well, I must say that plan of yours might have some merit. Certainly sounds safer than what I had in mind. Do those lists and obituaries have any places close by?” Joe asked.

  “The ones that are closest I have already done. I even figured out which Church basement they used to use to make up meals for the elderly in but it was already cleaned out. I have some other ideas also we can try if we are in agreement to team up on a scavenging treasure hunt, what do you say, Joe? Are you ready to take on this old toothless hunting dog to help you out now and sniff out some food?” Bert asked expectantly.

  “You got yourself a deal, Bert! Ha! With that pistol of yours, and rough exterior, I say you still have some teeth to deter anyone needing it! What you have been saying makes good sense to me. It is going to be pretty hard for me though to explain to my wife and the kids at first but I am sure they will go along with us teaming up once they see the wisdom in it. I think first thing that we need to do though is get some water out of Miss O’Riley’s pool. As you know, there hasn’t been any water available for washing up or doing dishes and such. Why a quantity of that salty precious liquid itself is a God send to me and the wife.” Joe said.

  “Now you are talking smart, my friend. I will share some of my drinking water with you but only a few bottles.” Bert began before Joe cut him off.