The Journal: Cracked Earth

by Deborah D. Moore

  * * *

  I know that Anna was startled when I rushed out of the office. I couldn’t take the time to explain what was going on and the possibility I was faced with.

  I backed into the barn partway and started to pump gas into the car from the nearly depleted drum. John had seen me pull in, and came out to see what I was doing. When I told him what was going on, and what I thought was waiting, he took over pumping the gas and told me to do whatever I felt needed doing. I scurried across the road to tell Jason we’d be leaving shortly, and to keep an eye on the house. We’d be gone for several hours and he needed to tend the fire for me. I didn’t want to say anything more since I didn’t want to get his hopes up. It was enough that mine might crash; his didn’t need that if I was wrong.

  My hands were shaking so badly that I asked John to drive. I didn’t trust my reflexes. He was well acquainted with the route, having flown in and out of Sawyer Airport every six weeks for the past two years. When we arrived, the place had a whole new look of military presence. Barbed wire was back, topping the chain link fence that the county put up, gray-green jeeps were everywhere, soldiers hustled between buildings and a new guard shack was added where there hadn’t been one before.

  I gave the guard my name and who I was to see while he looked over my Emergency Management ID. He glanced at John, who maintained a stony face when I told the guard John was my driver and my bodyguard. People seem to accept that for some reason. The not-so-young soldier told me where I could park and which building would have my contact.

  “Why are you so nervous, Allex?” John asked. He placed his hand on my arm to slow down my pacing.

  “I don’t think this is so much nerves as anticipation,” I said to him. My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest. The Captain I had spoken with had been gone for fifteen minutes now. I laid my forehead to John’s chest, for comfort.

  “Nahna!” I heard moments later and my granddaughter Emilee launched herself at me from a full run. I swept her up and hugged her as Eric reached us. I set her down and turned to my oldest son.

  “Hey, Mom,” he said with a very tired smile, and folded me in his arms. The tears just poured. They were safe and they were here! Eric looked over at John, eyebrows raised in question. I reluctantly let go of him.

  “Eric, this is John Tiggs, my—”

  “Please don’t call me your driver and bodyguard, not to this man,” John interrupted. He extended his hand, which Eric grasped firmly, both of them grinning.

  “John is my… everything,” I smiled at him, sniffled, and dug in my pocket for a hanky. Cloth of course, paper tissues were long a thing of the past. I slipped my arm possessively into his.

  That’s when Captain Andrews rejoined us. “I think I can safely ascertain that you recognize Sargent First Class Rush and his daughter.”

  I grinned and nodded, unable to say much.

  “Since Sgt. Rush was unexpected, coming in on military stand-by, and unauthorized by the way, he’s been held in custody until someone signs for the two of them. New statutes prohibit crossing state lines unless there is someone on the receiving end willing to vouch for, house, and feed a person. Will you take full responsibility for these two people, Ma’am?” he asked, holding out a clipboard to me.

  “Yes, absolutely,” I replied. I understood he had his formal protocol to follow. I took his pen and clipboard and signed the release where he indicated.

  Eric turned to the Captain and saluted, which the Captain returned. “You’re very lucky, young man, not everyone gets this far. If you will follow me, I will release your two bags and escort you out,” said the Captain. He looked down at Emilee and added, “And you, young lady, behave for your grandmother.” He tapped her nose with his rough finger.

  “Her name is Nahna!” Emilee replied with her little fists on her skinny eleven-year-old hips, her chin stuck out in defiance, which earned laughter from all of us.

  My heart swelled to see how much she had grown. Eric was up for a visit last summer, however, it’s been two years since I’ve seen my first grandchild. She was nearly up to my shoulder, and quite thin. I doubt she will be very tall, but maybe she got her height early, like I did. I was five foot four at the age of twelve, and only grew another inch. Emi’s eyes were the same shade of light brown as her mother’s, with flecks of gray and green. Her shoulder length hair was showing signs of the rich golden chestnut it would end up, much like mine. Coincidentally, we both had had our very long hair cut in October, donating to Locks for Love.

  I turned my attention to Eric, my first born. He was now retired from the service, and still his fair hair is worn military cut, and I can definitely see the shades of pale brown and blond that it was when he was young. I did also notice a few patches of gray, and wondered how new that was. Eric and Jason were always such opposites. Eric was fair haired and blue eyed, like his father; Jason dark haired and brown-green eyed like me. Eric preferred the heat of Florida, Jason gravitated to the north and the cooler climate, but looking at them together, there was no doubt they were brothers.

  Standing beside the car while John put the two small carry-on bags in the back, I gave Eric another fierce hug. “I can’t believe you’re here. Oh my God, I’ve been so worried about you two!” The tears threatened again, but I did manage to keep them in check. “What about Beth?” I whispered, not wanting Emi to hear. Even though Eric and his wife had split up, I would have taken her in without a second thought.

  “Her job is very important, not just to her, but to the entire county. She’ll be fine. She sends her love and asks only that we keep Emi safe,” Eric said.

  Beth had made captain in the Fire Department last spring, after years being a paramedic, and worked hard now in public relations and emergency management. She’d been a very dedicated person for as long as I’d known her. She might not have come, but at least I have these two.

  * * *

  We arrived at four o’clock to a pleasantly toasty house, but John added more wood to the fire anyway. The winds outside have been slowly building all day, and I think we’re in for another blast of snow. Eric and Emi were understandably tired and hungry, but when I offered hot showers before dinner, they both perked right up. John refueled and started the generator to pump the water, while I went over the basic water usage rules with our two new house guests. Emi might be only eleven, but she was quite mature and understood that rules had reasons and were to be followed. Her parents have done a good job with her.

  Emilee took her shower first and reveled in washing her hair for the first time in almost a week, which was how long their traveling took. Going by military stand-by was slow-going and iffy to say the least. We gave her an extra five minutes and she was one squeaky clean and happy little girl when she came out of the steamy bathroom. In the last of her clean clothes, she sat down on the futon and promptly fell asleep.

  Eric’s shower didn’t last quite as long, but he came out smiling.

  “Oh, man, that felt good!” he sighed. “You don’t know how to appreciate a hot shower until you can’t get one!”

  “Oh, yes I do,” John snickered and offered to put their clothes in to wash.

  Jason and Jacob would be over for dinner in another hour so I quickly started putting dinner together. At first I was going to do lasagna, but we were getting low on mozzarella cheese and I wanted to save that for pizzas, which were fast becoming a real treat. I decided on mock chicken parmesan, canned chicken in a spaghetti sauce on fettuccini pasta.

  * * *

  “So where did you two go in such a rush?” Jason asked while he was helping Jacob take off his boots when they came over for dinner an hour later.

  “Hey, bro!” Eric peered from the other room. Jason’s head snapped around at the voice of his older brother. He scrambled to his feet and the two brothers hugged fiercely. They had always been close, being a bit over two years apart in age, but I hadn’t realized how much they had missed each other.

  “Mom, why didn’t
you tell me?” Jason asked, fighting his tears.

  “I didn’t know for sure. The message I got only mentioned a ‘package’. I thought it might be Eric when I was passed our code-word, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up too, in case I was wrong.”

  Jacob had finished taking off his boots by himself, and looked up at Eric. “I remember you, you’re Uncle Eric.” He reached up for a hug. My heart swelled. Not all autistic children shy away from physical contact, and Jacob is very affectionate.

  Just then a sleepy Emilee wandered into the kitchen and spied her uncle and cousin, and rewarded us with another big smile from her.

  “And you’re Emilee,” Jacob affirmed, and gave her a hug too. I think he sees he might have a playmate that is more his size.

  * * *

  Although we all understood that Eric and Emilee needed a few days of regular meals and much rest, we also have to discuss practical matters, like accommodations, and schooling for Emi.

  “I would like you and Emi to stay here with us for a few days,” I said to Eric. “After that, it would be more practical for you to move across the street with Jason. Don’s house is much bigger. Why they needed four bedrooms, I’ve never understood, but it sure is convenient now.” I glanced over at Jason. “Are you agreeable to them taking over the upper floor? With its two bedrooms and full bath, it would be perfect.”

  “Of course they can move in with us. Can you get us some more textbooks from the school?” Jason asked. “What grade are you in now?” he asked Emi.

  “I’m in the fifth grade, but my teacher says I’m smart,” she said, sitting up straight.

  “I bet you are. Jacob is too, so I guess it runs in the family.” I know Jason didn’t want to boast, but Jacob, in only the 3rd grade, had surpassed 5th grade math already. Before the event he was showing signs of having a photographic memory, even at nine years old.

  By the end of the evening, it had been decided that Eric and Emilee would stay here for a week, and then move over across the road. Jason would continue the home schooling and include Emi in the classes, and I would try to get more books in higher grades from the school in Moose Creek.

  Eric would soon need something to do, too, but that would be resolved when the time came. Meanwhile, I had my family here, we were together and we were all safe. It had been too long since I’d been this happy and content.

  * * *

  JOURNAL ENTRY: February 28

  It’s the last day of the month. By all accounts, it looks like March is coming in like a lion, so we should have an early spring after all. I hope so, anyway. I am so very tired of all this snow and cold.

  Eric and Emilee will be moving over to Jason’s this afternoon. Jason’s, yes. I have to stop thinking of it as Don’s house, he’s gone. It saddens me, but it’s the reality of this new life.

  We’ve spent many hours, myself, John and Jason, trying to fill Eric in on all the events of the past five months so he understands the mood and attitudes of Moose Creek. New attitudes born from devastating events, horrific attacks, untreatable illness, and isolation, especially the isolation from all we knew. And the deaths. Some of us will never get over the losses.

  In turn, Eric has relayed what he could of what happened down in Florida.

  * * *

  “It isn’t much better down there, Mom. In fact, in some ways, it’s been much worse. The gang violence is rampant. The blacks, the Hispanics, Mexicans, Cubans, they’re always fighting themselves or each other for territory or for the limited resources. There are shootings, executions and arsons every day, even in the best communities. Abby, Beth’s older daughter,” Eric explained to John, “moved back in to Beth’s house to be with family and for the protection of the better neighborhood and also to protect her horse, Tint.” He paused, taking a sip of tea, trying to maintain his composure. “In spite of the shooting lessons I gave her, she was attacked one day when Emi was in school. Tint was butchered in front of her, in broad daylight, and then Abby was repeatedly raped. When Beth home from work that night, she actually begged me to bring Emi up here, where she was sure it would be safer.”

  It took them eight days to make the trip, hopping one military transport to the next, moving northward in a jagged line, while being questioned at every stop until Eric put on his maroon beret and a jacket with his rank. Even retired, he retains the rank of Sargent First Class. At one checkpoint, the TSA tried to separate him and Emi, but the agent changed his mind quickly when Eric grabbed him by the throat and Emi gave him a karate kick to the groin. The biggest challenge came at Sawyer, when they were not getting back on a flight. They needed proof of family support to leave the terminal. They waited for almost three days.

  * * *

  As a celebration dinner for Eric and Emi’s move to Jason’s, we had pizza. I really wasn’t joyous about their leaving here, but with so little good in our lives, a special event of this nature needs acknowledging. The kids watched the movie Ice Age, which I avoided because of the reminder of what smelled like an approaching storm.

  As a parting gift, and because he needed his own weapon, I let Eric take the AR-15. If he ever went back to Florida, he would have to leave it behind anyway, so it was more of a loan. He also took the Smith & Wesson .357 revolver as a personal weapon. I prefer an automatic anyway. John had become very attached to the Mini-14 and it suited him.

  When Jason and Jacob arrived for our pizza dinner, Jason had a surprise for us.

  “You won’t believe what I found in the basement!” Jason exclaimed. He set two six packs of beer on the table. “Thank you Uncle Don!”

  John’s eyes lit up, and Eric reached for a bottle opener. Even I had one.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  I woke at my usual 7am. I wonder how long the batteries in the clocks will last before I have to dig out the Big Ben wind-up clock from the drawer. From electric to batteries to manual, all in one easy step: a disaster, coming to a town near you. I put on my robe, smiling at the still sleeping John, and tiptoed out of the bedroom.

  I knocked down the ashes in the stove and restarted the fire while a pot of water heated on the gas range. From this point on, any flame needed for the day would be taken from the cook-stove to preserve the limited supply of matches. I had thousands, yes, but if I couldn’t restock, it made them limited. I wonder if at some point, leaving a candle always burning would be our source of fire. That’s a scary thought. Then I remembered I had several iron and flint type fire starters hanging in pouch behind the stove. I never got proficient at using them, so left them there. Learning to use them might make a good project for the kids.

  I made coffee with the French press, and transferred the steamy, dark liquid to a different pot and set it on the stove to stay warm. I poured myself a mug full just as John came down the hall. I handed him my cup, but he set it down on the table and pulled me into a hug, nuzzling his sleepy face into my neck. Ah, this was the warm gentle hug like we would share after his massages on Eagle Beach. Those hugs always seemed to have an underlying, unspoken hunger. It seemed like a hundred years ago. He pulled back without letting go and kissed me. So many times I had yearned for that kiss in the past. I returned his kiss and deepened it with a sigh. The desire quickly grew, and without a word, we retreated to the bedroom.

  * * *

  A half an hour later, I rolled toward his warmth. “I think your coffee is getting cold,” I said with a smile. He laughed, gave me a quick kiss, and we both got up and dressed for the day.

  John poured us both a fresh cup of coffee, and then dumped his cold cup back into the pot to reheat. We no longer wasted anything. I set the griddle on the hot stove to fix toast, and started slicing bread while he opened the blinds on the glass door. Years ago I had Jason install the cell-style blinds on all the windows and the glass door. The cell forms an air barrier against the glass, keeping the hot air out in the summer, and the cold out in the winter. It was one of the most energy efficient things I’ve done for the house. Closing them at night is a
must when it’s so cold out.

  “Houston, I think we have a problem,” he muttered.

  Problems we don’t need, not after all we’ve been through. I moved to stand beside him, slipping my arm around his waist with my free hand and stared at the falling snow. I could barely see the barn through the veil of big, fluffy flakes falling straight down.

  “I’ve seen snow like this only once before, back in March of 2002. It snowed for two days and then the wind blew for another two. Thirty-eight inches of snow brought Marquette County to a standstill.” The memories of that time marched across my mind, and all that happened, some good, some not. “Come on, we need to plan our day.”

  We sat down at the table, toast forgotten until it started to burn. John turned it while I dug out two pads of paper and a couple of pens. He was buttering the toast and had the jam on the table when I came back from another quick errand, a trip to the cold pantry for batteries and the NOAA alert radio. I have no excuse for why I had forgotten we had this radio.

  “Thank you, Marie,” I said under my breath. I fed the AA batteries into the radio and turned it on.

  In that tinny, computer generated voice, the announcement came: “The National Weather Service in Marquette has issued a Severe Blizzard Warning for the entire Lake Superior coastline of the Upper Peninsula from six o’clock A.M. until further notice; from Copper Harbor to Grand Marias to Whitefish Point; West winds will increase to twenty miles per hour and shift to the North by noon; winds will shift again to the North Northeast by six o’clock P.M.; Expect snowfall at the rate of up to two inches or more per hour, with wind gusts up to fifty miles per hour.” This was followed by the alert blast, and it started to repeat.