The Journal: Cracked Earth

by Deborah D. Moore

  * * *

  JOURNAL ENTRY: November 20

  I can’t believe the weather! Upper forties for the lows, upper fifties for the highs and it is sunny. I took a peaceful walk around the perimeter of my ten acres, re-marking the trees with plastic ribbon tape, hot pink this time. Not that it matters at all anymore. Still, it was something to do, and it was a productive reason to be outside. Last night was the third night in a row that I’ve slept with the window open. I get the sinking feeling that we will pay for this good weather at some point.

  I got an email from Liz, which was sent to all township EM’s. The respite of electricity yesterday may well have been our last for a very long time. It seems that the federal government has required all power generating plants to divert their resources to major cities, government offices and law enforcement only. Small towns, suburbs outside the city limits and all rural areas fall under “non-essential” power usage. Failure to comply will result in severe penalties. We just became a casualty in the needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few. This isn’t going to go over very well with the few left in Moose Creek. Without power, hope is gone for any sort of normalcy.

  * * *

  I went to see John for his morning massage. When I was getting out of the car he came outside and stopped me quite abruptly.

  “I can’t pay you. The ATM’s aren’t working,” he said, embarrassed and sad.

  “That’s okay, John. Pay me next time.” I pulled the table out of the back of the car, knowing the ATM’s wouldn’t be working for a very long time.

  “I don’t like owing anyone,” he said, “so this will be the last one until the ATM’s are working again.”

  That made my heart lurch. “Tell you what. You’ve paid me well for the past year, so this one is on me.”

  He smiled gratefully. “But only for a half hour.”

  “Deal,” I said smiling back. “Then maybe we should talk.”

  * * *

  After the massage I put the table in the car and we sat on the steps of the porch, out of earshot of the few guys remaining inside. The waves from Lake Superior pounded the rock strewn shore seventy-five feet away. The Big Lake was getting very rough.

  “How are things going here, John? I don’t see many around.”

  “Yeah, I know. Half the guys have left for the Green-Way house in Marquette. At the mine, they heard that they still have grid power and food there. Steve’s obviously done some recent shopping, because we still have some food, and he’s cut down on our portions. That’s okay, since we’re not burning as much. Did I mention that most of us haven’t been down in the mine since that second quake, even though we still go there?” He took a long, deep breath and let it out while running his hands over his bald head, pushing off his ever present knit cap. “Hey, at least we’re still eating, right?”

  “Yes, and enjoy your turkey dinner tomorrow,” I said. I had to slide that in, but it went right over his head.

  When we lost power last week, I wondered what would happen here, and now that I know the power won’t be back, I’m worried. This house Green-Way rents has a propane generator, and it won’t last forever. I’ve seen the deep freezers, they won’t last forever either. I’m pleased that Steve took to heart what I had suggested and did some shopping.

  “Hey, maybe there’s some use for my hobby now,” John said, grinning. “Years ago, I went to a trade school and learned to be a gunsmith. I putter with that every time I go home on vacation.”

  He’s a gunsmith? Wow. Could that ever be useful!

  The wind off the lake was picking up and I shivered. I knew that it was time for me to go. I took his hand as I stood, pulling him up and hugging him. He held on tight, and his body heat felt good against me. Oh, how I wanted more than a hug. I knew it would never happen; he had already told me that he didn’t want any emotional ties ever again. I finally stepped back.

  “John, things are going to get much worse, and when they do, find me,” I said and finally let go.

  * * *

  JOURNAL ENTRY: November 21

  Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Jason, Amanda, Jacob, Don and Nancy will all be coming over here since I have the wood cook stove and can cook the turkey. I also invited Bob, Kathy, Guy and Dawn. Kathy quickly said yes, and I told her to bring the wine. They don’t have much food but they have a lot of good wine! Dawn is better prepared food wise and is in need of the social interaction. I want my family and friends with me again. I need to do something normal.

  Though the weather is still mild, I can smell moisture in the air and there’s a chill now too. No more Weather Channel on TV. No more instant access on the internet, it’s back to old-fashioned senses and observations to rely on now. I’ve lived here long enough to know that snow is coming.

  How quickly we’ve stepped backward.

  * * *

  Thanksgiving Day! I’ve decided that I’m going to splurge. I will use up five gallons of stored gas to run the generator and have power all day long. When my guests arrive, there will be lights and water plus Jacob can watch all of the DVDs he wants. I’m stuffing one of the turkeys and will heat up one of the hams. Everybody will get to take leftovers home with them. I’ve got a green bean casserole from my garden beans, homemade rolls, butter from the freezer, and I even made a real pumpkin cheesecake. I’m hoping that Bob and Kathy will remember to bring wine. If not, I have enough. I want to make this Thanksgiving feast a memorable one.

  Jason and Amanda were the first ones to arrive. Jacob was excited to come to Nahna’s house. It seems like ages since he’s been here. I have a collection pack of Muppet Movies and he’s one happy camper right now, with microwave popcorn and clear Kool-Aid. Bob, Kathy, Guy and Dawn came together to save gas, and both couples each brought a few bottles of wine. Don and Nancy walked over, bringing another pie.

  Our conversation centered on the earthquakes, the lack of food and the loss of power. They all wanted to know what I knew about all of it, which wasn’t much. I told them that the power was gone indefinitely now, and why. It was received with stunned silence. Everyone has lost weight, trying to ration what they have left.

  Guy and Dawn started prepping a couple of months ago, so they’re in halfway decent shape. They’ve got a generator but limited gas and a hand pump for the well that isn’t installed yet. They live on one of the local inland lakes, so at least they will have plenty of water for flushing and washing. They’ve got a woodstove for heat and Guy has cut and stacked an impressive amount of wood. Dawn’s been working hard at stocking up, and she’s expecting their daughter to show up any minute with four kids and a husband in tow. What food they have might not go very far once the kids arrive.

  Bob and Kathy have a natural fireplace, although with the open floor plan and pitched high ceilings, the fireplace won’t be able to keep up when it gets really cold. There is a gas fireplace in the basement, and it’s a much smaller area to heat. They will eventually move down there. I know Bob recently had their one thousand gallon propane tank refilled. The basement is also a walk-out, with an enclosed area where the gas grill is, making it a perfect shelter for cooking and it’s hidden from view. Their food supply is very limited, and what they have left is in the freezer. Rarely have they ever had more than a week or two of food in the house. Bob’s been running their small generator enough every day to keep the freezers going. He was the one most shocked one when I said that the power was gone, period. He was sure that everything would be okay by next week. I don’t know what to do about them, if anything.

  Don and Nancy I don’t worry about, they’ll be fine. On the other hand, with them both in their seventies, hard work is getting harder to do.

  That leaves Jason and Mandy. I’m his mother, I will always worry about him, but he’s smart and young and healthy. So I will try not to worry.

  I can’t think about Eric right now. He’s still in Florida as far as I know, and safe. We talked briefly a few days ago and they are all doing fine. He went out hunting and got ano
ther hog to refill the freezer. Fortunately, their power is still on. They weren’t affected as much by the quakes like some of us. I know he wanted to come up, and I’m disappointed. Considering the circumstances, him staying home is understandable.

  We ate very well: turkey with stuffing and gravy, thick slices of ham, the green and wax bean salad with fresh hot rolls and lots of butter. Everyone loved the salad and it was surprisingly easy; two jars of beans, drained and tossed with some bottled Italian dressing, plus a finely sliced onion that Kathy carefully picked out. Maybe it was the freshness of the garden beans that was a hit. Then someone suggested we play some cards, like we did when everything was normal. I sent extra food home with everyone except Don and Nancy, who don’t need it, and I kept two slices of ham for my lunch tomorrow.

  I checked the internet after everyone left to find there is a cold front moving in tonight, and snow predicted for tomorrow, a LOT of snow. I knew I smelled it in the air!

  This was the first night in a long time that I slept well. I had a full stomach, some fun with my family and friends, and forgot, if only briefly, about the trouble we’re in.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The winds are howling outside, and there’s already five inches of snow, at least that’s how much that hasn’t blown away yet. The morning started out at 29 degrees, then dropped to 27 degrees and stayed there.

  I’m trying hard to stay on top of email while I can. Only a few more days left on the batteries for the cell tower. I’m guessing on that because I really don’t know and there’s no way to find out. After that I’ll have to go into town with the tablet, which will not be convenient.

  I finally heard from Suzy in the Willamette Valley of Oregon. With her hubby driving trucks to Texas and Louisiana, she’s often alone at home with their four kids, Koty, Katie, Joey and Charlotte. They’re doing okay. The goats, cats and horse sensed the quake and aftershocks in Yellowstone, but the chickens were oblivious for the most part. Typical, I suppose. She’s trying to keep the kids busy with tending the animals so they don’t worry about their dad. Phil had just left on a trip to Louisiana when the quakes hit. With so much disruption everywhere, Suzy has decided to home school rather than risk the young ones being away from home if anything else happens. I certainly can’t blame her. I worry about my boys all the time and they’re grown.

  * * *

  JOURNAL ENTRY: November 24

  It’s a day for good news. I got an unexpected phone call from Eric! They are doing fine, and with Beth busy in her higher level of emergency management, she’s asked him to move back in, temporarily of course, to take care of Emi and the livestock. He said no. I’ve got to hand it to him to stick to the rules that she laid out. He set up a bedroom for Emi at his new place and told me that he would pick Emi up from school and then go to Beth’s. While Emilee picks up a few things and feeds the cat, Eric will feed and tend the horse and chickens, collect eggs, and then they will go to his house, where Beth can pick up their daughter when she gets off work. If she works too late, Eric will take Emi to school from his house. He works from home ninety percent of the time anyway, so it makes sense. Why should he sleep on an air mattress on the floor, when he could/should be sleeping in his own bed? Beth is learning that she can’t always get her way.

  I finally turned on the TV for some news. It’s been seventeen days since the first quake and rescue efforts have turned into body recovery. The toll now stands at 78,523 confirmed dead, some not identified or even identifiable, with at least that many more missing. They’ve lost count of the injured. Unbelievable. It was said that the only way to deal with the sheer number of bodies is with mass graves.

  One thing everyone will have to be cautious of now is all the inmates on the loose. It seems that they offered some maximum security prisoners a reduced sentence if they helped with recovery and clean up. The prisoners just walked away. Now the population will have to contend with some real nasties wandering around. I suppose the officials felt that it was worth the risk, but then they likely won’t have to deal with it. I’m forever thankful to be way up here in this small corner of the world. Even so, I wear my shoulder holster constantly now.

  Oddly, there wasn’t even a mention of the continuing relief efforts on the East Coast for the victims of the hurricane.

  * * *

  It is past the time to do something about the storage shed and I could kick myself for not taking care of this earlier when the weather was nice. Wallowing in self-pity distracted me from those details. Now I have to shovel the deck of the seven inches of snow before I can start bringing in some of those buckets of long term storage. The only good part is that instead of carrying one or two at a time, I can put four on the sled to get them from the shed to the deck. I would have to bring them in one at a time anyway, and it’s going to be slippery, thankfully there won’t be too many to move right now.

  I moved the futon away from the wall and made sure that the carpet was rolled back too. I’m really not sure how much is going to fit back there, yet I don’t have any alternatives, I have to have this food easily available.

  I overestimated the battery backup for the cell tower. I lost internet and cell phone at 4:15 P.M. Before it went out, I got an email from Kris in Minnesota. I hope she realizes how lucky she is that her town has a power plant! Those towns continue to use their own power, though any excess must be routed to someone else’s emergency services, likely the Twin Cities for her town. Her hospital, schools, library, water treatment plant and local TV and radio stations will continue to function. Even though they have a bank, it won’t open because most of the offices are shut down to transactions. The gas stations aren’t getting any deliveries, so once the gas is gone, those close down too. Even the stores and bars will close once the supplies run out. I’m thinking that the library and movie theater are going to be very busy. I wonder if she has a bike to get around town on?

  My bike is in the barn; I can’t use it in the snow. Maybe I had better lock that up anyway. That one is easy, it’s a metal barn and I can padlock the doors. Anyone with bolt-cutters could get in, but why make it easy? I suppose I could put some of the buckets in the barn, and rig an alarm to let me know if anyone opens the doors. More to think about.

  I’m intentionally staying out of town. The township offices are closed today, and I will also avoid the church tomorrow too. I’m in a weird mood and not really fit company, even for Tufts, who hates this snow. I need some physical activity and I’ve got to shovel the deck because that’s where the grill and gennie are.

  I can still smell snow in the air and the clouds are getting darker and lower. I might be in for a real blast. I better bring in a bit more wood. My first burn pile is almost gone and that’s good. I’d hate digging a path to it.

  * * *

  JOURNAL ENTRY: November 25

  It was snowing hard when I got up this morning. There must be a fresh six inches already with no signs of stopping. I wonder if I should use the snow-blower later. I wonder if they are going to plow the roads? I wonder if anyone cares.

  With no phone, I feel totally cut off.

  I had set the turkey carcass to cook for soup right after everyone left on Thursday. It was cool enough this morning to strip off the remaining meat, so now I will can it. That means going out to the other shed in this blizzard for the pressure canner and jars.

  * * *

  I got twenty pints of turkey soup out of the carcass. That’s twenty more days of lunch, of surviving. It’s funny how the perspective changes when the food supply is limited.

  Dinner tonight will be a pork chop from the freezer, a half can of black-eyed peas and maybe some cornbread. I can have the rest of the cornbread for breakfast tomorrow and then add the other half of peas to my lunch soup.

  * * *

  The snow finally stopped around noon. I will measure it when I dig my way to a flat space. It looks like around fifteen inches fell. I bundled up and got the snow-blower going when the wind stopped, around 3P.M. At leas
t I got paths cut, then it began to get dark and the wind started up again. I heard the plows out on the main road though they haven’t come down the side roads yet. Even if I had someplace to go, I doubt that I could get past my driveway. If this side road isn’t plowed, I won’t be able to get into town for those on-going meetings, which might not be a bad thing. No, I can’t say that. Though Anna may have the best interest of the town in mind, she really doesn’t know how to go about it, since she really doesn’t know how dark the human mind can get during times of desperation. I’ve seen that dark side with Sam, and it isn’t pretty.

  * * *

  Twenty inches of snow fell in the past twenty-four hours. This really is early in the season for this much snow. I wonder if the quakes shook up anything else, like the weather patterns.

  I spent most of the day sitting by the stove, reading. It was nice but it got boring after a while. If the wind is down tomorrow I will clear the driveway and cut a path behind the house to the bucket shed.

  I keep thinking about my woman’s group. Now that I don’t have internet anymore, I wonder how they are doing. I wonder if I failed them by not giving them enough survival information. I wonder if I failed them by not insisting they stay more on topic. I wonder if I failed them by not making them think more. I wonder if I should have closed the group when I had a chance. I really do feel like I have let them down.