The Journal: Cracked Earth

by Deborah D. Moore

  Bob laughed. “You’ve made a wise choice, my friend.”

  A few minutes later Jacob came into the kitchen.

  “Nahna, can I watch a movie?” he asked, tugging on my arm and my heart. Jason started to explain that he couldn’t, but I stopped him.

  “This is a special day for all of us. John will you start the generator? We’ll run it for a few hours. Jacob can watch anything he wants. We can have lights and running water and I can use the other stove to help re-heat things for dinner.” It was Christmas Day, I had my friends and my family here, plus I had John. We had plenty of food for everyone and I was determined that we would all have a good time.

  I had already decided on using the remaining ham for dinner, along with the ham, a green and wax bean casserole with cream of mushroom soup and a baked garden pumpkin filled with rice pilaf. I’ve done the pumpkin-rice before and it’s not only good but fun to scoop out some rice and squash at the same time. Fresh bread rolls, too. For dessert we had baked apples.

  With everything heated at the same time, dinner went smoothly, the wine flowed freely and the conversation was lively. Kathy told of how quiet Moose Creek was at night, except for last night.

  “We’ve been getting used to it being very quiet at night,” she said, “so when the music and ruckus started last night it really surprised me, especially the music!”

  Living right in the heart of town, they heard everything.

  “I think Buddy was holding a private party at The Jack,” Bob chimed in. “He must have found a case of booze hidden somewhere.”

  I explained to John that “Buddy” is the nickname for Carl McCoy. He and his wife Patty own the local bar, The One-Eyed Jack. Not many people in Moose Creek like Buddy, but The Jack is the only bar, so he is at best tolerated, but still a creep, nonetheless.

  After dinner, Kathy helped me divide up the leftover ham three ways, but I insisted she and Jason split the rice pilaf and the rolls. I could always make more. It was one of the things I had planned for. By having a wood burning cook-stove, I had a capability to bake whenever I needed, provided the flour held out.

  “Bob,” I interjected into a conversation he was having with Jason about plumbing. “Would you like an after-dinner scotch? Kathy, how about you?” Bob’s eyes lit up and so did John’s. I didn’t know John was a scotch drinker. I would have offered him some sooner. These touches of normal habits are what I’ve prepped for.

  “Well, I see I said the right thing,” I laughed. “John, would you get some glasses down from that shelf, please?” I pointed to the rack where the wine glasses hung. On the shelf above it was a variety of drink glasses. I hobbled into the back pantry and retrieved a bottle of scotch, rum and schnapps.

  Jason got the bag of ice cubes off the deck for us, and Kathy, Bob and John bonded over Famous Grouse on the rocks. Jason opted for the Captain Morgan’s Private Stock spiced rum, while Mandy and I sipped a shot of peppermint schnapps.

  It was a good time to ask Bob and Kathy about Al and Mary, our other friends.

  “Oh, I thought you knew,” Kathy said. “They went downstate to stay with their boys in Traverse City when this all began.” Good, that was one less couple I had to worry about.

  With the generator still running I did the dishes instead of waiting for morning. Then I found out why Jason wanted to stay one more night

  “Mom, do you mind if we all take showers?” Jason asked while he helped me dry the dishes. My gas water heater stays hot on a minimal amount of propane, which still flows without power, where his electric water heater didn’t work at all.

  While Amanda was taking her shower, Jason came to me for a favor.

  “May I have five gallons of gas before we leave in the morning? Amanda barely got back home and I had to siphon some from my truck to get us here.” He knew I had a drum of gas in storage.

  “Absolutely. Do you want a couple more cases of noodles for Jacob, too?”

  “Thank you,” he hugged me tight. “One will be fine for now.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The next morning I fixed a big breakfast, hoping it would last until supper. While Amanda collected their belongings and Jacob’s toys, Jason put some gas in their car, then filled the five gallon container he’d brought while I watched from the back door.

  About noon, they were ready to leave. Jason mentioned that he took a little extra gas, and I knew he would. He’s always been very with honest with me. Well, mostly. I still wonder why he didn’t tell me about Amanda leaving.

  After they left, I told John that I needed to go to the office for an hour or two. He looked confused. He didn’t know that I was the township emergency manager.

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No, that’s not necessary, but we need to cover something before I leave,” I replied. He got a big grin.

  “Not that,” I blushed. “You need to be armed. What would you prefer to have an automatic or revolver?”

  “Automatic.”

  “Nine millimeter or twenty-two?”

  “A nine.”

  I got up, reached into the clock and pulled out a gun. His eyes widened. I thumbed the safety on, ejected the clip, ejected the chambered round and handed it to him, handgrip first.

  “Beretta 92FS, nice gun!” he exclaimed while he pointed it at the floor, sited it down, weighed it.

  “Will that do?”

  “Nicely! Do you happen to have a holster for it?”

  “I’ll get one.”

  “What are you carrying?” he asked when I returned from the back room after locating the appropriate holster. I showed him my Kel-Tec 9mm and he grinned. I slid it back into my shoulder holster.

  “I know you don’t need to be told to not let anyone in you don’t know, but I have to say it anyway,” I shrugged. “You’ve seen the supplies. Those are for US, John, you, me, my family. That’s what I’ve prepped for. Your job today is to protect all that,” I said with a grin, then kissed him. “I won’t be gone long. I hope.”

  * * *

  “Where have you been?” Anna asked when I arrived at the office. I reminded her where I lived, that nobody plowed my road. I couldn’t get out.

  “That won’t happen again. Sorry.” Anna looked like she hadn’t slept in days. She sank into her oversized chair. “It’s been a busy weekend. Have you driven through town yet?”

  “No.”

  “Someone has been trying to burn down the town!”

  “WHAT??!!”

  “Shoreline Treasures was the first casualty, and then the real estate office burned.”

  I was more distressed that the real estate office suffered. It was a great building! Originally a bank, it was built to fit the area, a log cabin. It was beautiful with its hand hewn beams and rustic stain. When the bank pulled out, it made its way into several, unsuccessful businesses before settling into a real estate office, which had maintained now for over ten years. Shoreline Treasures was a gift shop that was closed during the winter.

  “Any suspects?” I asked, dazed.

  “Since it started right after Buddy’s bash, Ken and Karen are going over the guest list, figuring that someone got really drunk and then got pissed off over something. Now everyone left in the town is pissed off.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “Christmas Eve,” she said shaking her head. “Of all the nights! It’s disgraceful, considering how well the town has pulled together so far.”

  “Do they have any suspects?” I asked again.

  She looked sullen and didn’t answer right away. “Yeah. Lenny.” She took a deep breath, “It’s only a suspicion right now. You know Lenny is a hothead.”

  “I’m confident Ken and Karen will figure it out,” I said, not entirely sure if I was convinced myself. “I need to contact Liz. Is there someplace I can have some privacy?”

  Anna left me alone in the office knowing the importance of my call. I quickly dialed the County Emergency Manager. The phone rang and rang, unanswer
ed. I hung up and dialed 911. “This is Moose Creek emergency management,” I said when the call was answered. “I’m trying to reach Liz Anderson and no one is answering her phone.” After a pause and some clicks a male voice answered.

  “Tom White.”

  “Tom, Allexa Smeth in Moose Creek. I’m trying to reach Liz Anderson, but she’s not answering.” The line seemed to go dead. “Tom?”

  “We found Liz yesterday. County ME said it was a heart attack.” His voice broke.

  No words came to my mind.

  “I’m acting EMC. Is there anything critical that you need?” he asked, sounding overwhelmed.

  “Food.”

  “You and everyone else,” Tom sighed. “I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise you anything.”

  “Thanks. Please, send my condolences to Liz’s family.” I hung up, stunned at the news.

  * * *

  “What’s wrong?” John asked when I let myself into the house.

  I struggled to get the words out. “I lost someone today.” I broke down in sobs. John wrapped his arms around me. I shivered despite his added body heat.

  “Who?” he asked gently, wiping the tears from my face.

  “Liz Anderson, the county emergency manager. Liz wasn’t just my boss, she was my friend.” I pulled away from John to get a hanky from my pocket.

  “What happened?” John asked. He was pressing something into my other hand. I looked down at the golden liquid in the glass and took a sip. Brandy.

  “They believe it was a heart attack, too much stress I imagine.” John took the glass from my hand and hugged me again tightly. It felt so good to have someone understand my distress. When he kissed my temple I looked up at him, wanting more. The kisses that followed stirred something deep within me and I forgot the stress I was under. I forgot about Liz for the moment. And we both forgot about dinner.

  * * *

  “Anna, is there any way I can borrow a snow mobile from someone?” I asked.

  “For how long?”

  “An hour or two, that’s all.”

  “I’ll have George bring ours up,” she offered. I wanted to get John back to Eagle Beach to collect some more of his own things.

  “Thanks, we won’t be long.”

  “We?” I heard her ask while I walked out the door.

  * * *

  John and I arrived back at the township hall at the same time George was parking their new snowmobile. He went over the controls with John, assuming that he would be driving. I knew John had never ridden one before, though he had a motorcycle back home in North Carolina, and could adapt quickly. John made a slow circle, and drove around the parking lot a few times to get the feel of the machine. I took the towing sled out of the car and tied it to the back of the snowmobile like I’d done a hundred times before in the woods, then I got on the back of the sled behind John and tightly held on to his waist.

  He was definitely having fun.

  The roads were fairly clear, but snow packed, which was good, since a snowmobile needs snow for the treads to grip. When we got to the entrance to the Eagle Beach subdivision the road changed. It hadn’t been plowed since the first snow and was deeply drifted. I whispered to John the advice I was given many, many years ago: if you get into deep powder, don’t stop! From that point, it was close to a mile to the house that John had shared with his co-workers. The snowmobile took the drifts easily.

  When we pulled up to the house, we sat there for a few minutes, taking in the beauty of the Big Lake. The wind had whipped up the shoreline, spraying the trees and the deck with the glory of Lake Superior. Icicles dripped from the handrails looking like shimmering Christmas ornaments. Small ice floats appearing like a frozen wasteland crowded each other in the bay, held motionless by the small pools of thin ice that might have been open water yesterday. Chunks of ice, farther then eye could see, jagged and gem-like, edged the horizon where the open water of the deep lake undulated with massive waves that were made small by the distance.

  We let ourselves in through the garage, where John used a hidden key to open the interior door.

  He asked me to wait upstairs while he took a big duffle bag and a flashlight and descended alone into the gloom of his old basement room. I wandered through the kitchen. Ice crystals had formed on the metal faucets, but all looked neat and clean, though it was obvious that anything consumable had been stripped from the place. The glass door commercial coolers that once were filled with all manner of drinks for the guys was empty. The nearby storage shelves now only held empty boxes.

  After a few minutes, I called down the stairs to John, asking if he was okay. Moments later, I could see the bright white beam from the flashlight getting larger as he made his way back up the stairs.

  “It took a little longer than I thought it would. Sorry if I alarmed you,” he said with a hint of sadness in his eyes, making me wonder what else was down there. “Let’s get out of here,” he said

  * * *

  At home, he dumped the bag out in the middle of the kitchen floor. He had packed his pillow, cellphone and charger, a couple of books and clothes: t-shirts, jeans, a sweater, socks, underwear and two pair of shoes.

  “I think all the clothes will need washing. I’ll start the generator,” he said, appearing distracted.

  I sorted his clothes and started the washer. Then I got the last beer out and handed it to John.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” I prodded gently. He stared at the beer a long time before taking a large swallow.

  “Those last few days that I was at the house I slept on the couch, near the fireplace,” he said between gulps. “I didn’t know that Henry was downstairs. He still is.”

  * * *

  JOURNAL ENTRY: December 28

  I’m really feeling down.

  After everything else, Liz is dead, someone is trying to burn the town down, and there’s a dead body on Eagle Beach. Not to mention I’m still waking in the middle of the night with cold sweats from bad dreams.

  With all my preps, I felt I had so much, enough to last me forever, at least well past the next growing season. I did have extra, but I didn’t count on so many depending on me. Will I have enough, or will I let everyone down? The responsibility is overwhelming.

  I wonder if that’s how Liz felt?

  * * *

  On the morning of the 29th, I ventured into town to find Gray so I could tell him about the body on Eagle Beach. While at the EMS office, I ran into Marilyn Harris. I felt guilty because only four of us knew I had shot her husband, and it still haunted me, likely always would. She seemed happy to see me,

  “Oh, Allexa, I’m so glad to run into you!” She hugged me and handed me a set of keys. “I didn’t know who to give these to. I’ll need a ride back home.”

  “What’s this, Marilyn?” I asked really confused, examining the keys in my hand.

  “I know that Bill had a dark side and I’m not going to justify it. But maybe I can apologize in a small way,” she explained. “Bill had a Passat Wagon TDI, a diesel. I want the township to have it. Actually, I think I’d like Karen and Ken to have it like some sort of patrol car.” Then it dawned on me: A diesel vehicle. With the new shipment of diesel gas, this would help a lot. I hoped I thanked her enough.

  “Do you know who my husband was trying to rob? Who shot him?” Marilyn asked me directly.

  “Marilyn, I think it’s best that none of us know,” I said. “Besides, what would you do if you knew?”

  “Probably thank them,” she snorted. “I said Bill had a dark side, and he did, sometimes he… got physical. Didn’t you ever wonder why I dropped out of the ladies groups in the summer? Bruises show.” She smiled. “Now I don’t have to worry.”

  I was stunned.

  “You will make sure that Ken and Karen get the car, won’t you? It’s the least that I can do.” I thanked her again and had Pete take her home.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I needed some fresh air and alone time today,
so I took a quiet walk, along the road. The undisturbed snow was beautiful. It all looked smooth, like ice-cream with glitter, and helped to lift my mood.

  When I returned home, John had all the guns laid out on the table and was systematically disassembling, cleaning and oiling them. It was a joy to watch. He grinned when I walked in. I think he really needed something to do, something productive and worthwhile, something he was good at. No matter how much we might like each other, being cooped up together in a small house can be very taxing on the nerves. After I watched John work on the guns, I took Jim Cobb’s Preppers Home Defense book off of the shelf, and set it on the table.

  “This author is a friend of mine,” I explained, “He’s written a couple of books on home defense and also on disaster preparedness. Although I found many of his ideas useable for here, I want your opinion.” I wasn’t pandering to John’s male ego, though guys do need to be needed, but John’s thoughts and ideas were just as important and valid as mine.

  He watched me closely while I talked, then asked what was bothering me.

  “You seem upset, Allex. What’s the matter?” John has gotten to know me well in a very short time.

  Has he really been here for only ten days??

  I couldn’t help it. The tears welled up behind my eyelids and were soon flowing down my cheeks. He held my hands and let me cry. I told him I was worried about our food lasting. Those blue eyes crinkled with a mirth I certainly didn’t feel.

  He stood, still holding my hand, and led me to the back room where the main food pantry is.

  “Look around, Allex, really look around! There is enough pasta here alone to last us months. I was trying to do a quick calculation, hope that’s okay, and I came up with almost a hundred pounds of various types of pasta. If we had to eat nothing except macaroni, and ate a pound a day, it would still last us three months. We don’t need to do that because there are the cases of tuna fish and salmon and mackerel that you were smart enough to buy and store.” “Look at all the soups and tomatoes and vegetables you canned, from the garden that you grew.”