The Journal: Cracked Earth

by Deborah D. Moore

  * * *

  JOURNAL ENTRY: March 11

  Although the electricity was on for only two hours yesterday, it was a good sign. I needed to know more. I backed the new-to-me four wheeler out of the makeshift lean-to and headed to town. John didn’t even question me going alone, which seemed odd. I sincerely think that we are past the worst of any threats, though I still wore my Kel-Tec in the shoulder holster that now feels like a second skin.

  I bundled up for the ride, even though the air temperature was again approaching sixty, and I drove along at a moderate thirty mph, enjoying being outside in the sunshine and warm breezes.

  * * *

  “Good morning!” I greeted Anna, who gave me a big smile.

  “You’re in good spirits. You must have noticed our surprise yesterday.”

  “I certainly did. It was too short, but I’m supposing that it was a short run to test the circuits. Have you heard whether the power will be back to stay, and when?”

  “Actually, I was on the phone the power company this morning,” she said. “We should have full, regular power by this weekend!”

  “Oh, my, that is such great news, Anna. I think we need to do some checking around town.”

  “You always seem to be one step ahead of me,” she laughed. “Yes, we need everyone to shut down everything possible so that the surge is lessened.”

  “We’ll have to go through all the vacant houses too and shut the breakers down completely.”

  “That was suggested too. We’ve got four days. They said they will throw the switch on Friday at noon.”

  Ken and Karen walked in where we were all gathered. Everyone was in a great mood. From the glorious weather I think. They were unaware of our short burst of power yesterday. Karen sank in the nearest chair when Anna made the announcement.

  “Glory be!” Karen exclaimed with a sigh. “I can’t wait to take an endless hot shower.” We all laughed, we also understood.

  “We do need to hit all the houses and camps and shut the mains off. You want to head that up, Ken?” I asked.

  “You bet. Things here have been pretty quiet. We could use something to do.”

  “This reminds me,” I said. “My oldest son Eric made his way up from Florida on military transports. He and my granddaughter are staying in Don’s house with Jason.” Ken sobered, remembering how hard I was hit with my brother’s death. “He’s retired military, Ken. He spent a lot of years in Special Ops. I think you might be able to use him in your new police department.”

  “Absolutely,” he said without hesitation.

  * * *

  We spent another two hours going over maps, marking where we knew that camps were and marking the on-grid ones. In town, going door-to-door seemed to be the most logical way to reach everyone within the town limits and still check all houses at the same time.

  I volunteered for the town route and suggested that Jason and Eric team up, since nearly everyone in town knows Jason, and that John and I go together, since most know me. This way Jason could introduce his brother around town and I could introduce John. Strangers showing up at the door these days is not a good idea. After all that has happened, someone might get shot. Jacob and Emilee would spend a day at the school, in a real classroom. The kids need some socialization. John and I would also take the stretch of houses by Dawn and Guy. I knew that most of those neighbors were gone, and Dawn and Guy would know which ones, and could help identify which homes needed attention.

  Ken would search out the camps with Lenny. Karen would take the houses around the inland lake, where they lived.

  * * *

  At first I couldn’t find John. I thought he might have gone across the road to visit with the boys. I poured myself a glass of water and planned on sitting on the deck for a while. When I got to the door, John was already sitting on the deck and talking on his cellphone. When I opened the door, he hung up rather quickly and pulled the other chair closer to him.

  “Your phone is working? I didn’t think we were getting reception yet.” I was curious who he had been talking to.

  He looked a bit guilty, though it might have been my imagination. “I’ve tried to keep it charged. After the power yesterday, I thought I would try.” He took my hand. “I just talked to my daughter,” he grinned, his eyes damp.

  “Oh, John, that’s wonderful! How is she? And the rest? Your mom and sister?”

  “Everyone is fine. They’ve all been worried about me and wonder when I can come home.” He kissed my fingers, but suddenly my heart was stumbling. I couldn’t keep out the thoughts that clouded my mind. Did he have a girlfriend waiting for him in North Carolina, or maybe even a wife he hadn’t told me about? Did he want to go home to his real family? My insides lurched with a painful loss and I froze.

  “I told them I am home, and that I would try to visit when things settled down.”

  * * *

  “I can’t believe we’re out of coffee,” John said, bewildered at the prospect of not having his morning dose of caffeine.

  “I’m sure there’s more. It’s buried in the back of the bucket shed,” I reassured him. “I thought I saw a bag in the cupboard yesterday.”

  “That bag is whole beans, and I don’t want to have to start the gennie for a few seconds to grind them, assuming you have a grinder.” He slumped in his chair.

  On top of the woodstove, looking very much like a decoration is an antique coffee mill. Antique, yes, but it is still very functional. When I handed it to him he stared at it, then at me. I showed him what it was and how to use it.

  “You never cease to amaze me with what you have thought of and have stocked,” he said.

  “I’ve always been fascinated by manual tools and with how our grandparents use to do things before all these electric gadgets came along. Sometimes the old tools come in handy!” I grinned. “I just hope I never get to the point of using the Sad Iron.”

  “What is a sad iron?” I took the odd looking hunk of cast iron off the shelf where I was using it as a book-end.

  When I placed it in his hands, he exclaimed, “That’s heavy!”

  “They usually come in sets of two, with one handle,” I unclipped the wood handle from it to show him. “They would stay on the woodstove, heating, until needed. Whoever was ironing that day would set up the ironing board next to the stove, clip the handle on and iron until that one got too cool, set it back on the stove, and clip on the next one. That way she could keep ironing, since there was always one being reheated.”

  “Why are they called ‘sad’ irons?”

  “I know that kind of chore wouldn’t make me very happy!” I laughed. “If I recall, the ‘sad’ is an old word for solid, because some of the sad-irons didn’t have detachable handles.”

  While John played with the mill, adjusting the grind until he was satisfied with it, I made sugar cookies for the kids to take to school at noon. The coffee tasted extra good this morning.

  * * *

  Because all six of us were going into Moose Creek, we discussed taking the car. Jason thought it might be better if they took Don’s four wheeled drive truck and John and I could take a four-wheeler. We would be hitting some muddy roads that the four-wheeler would handle better. He had a good point. I handed him the plastic container filled with cookies, reminding him I wanted the container back. It was one of those disposable ones, but nothing was disposable anymore.

  By the time Eric and Jason met us at the township hall after getting the kids to school, plans had changed. Ken decided that it would be better if he and Eric teamed up, so they could get to know each other better. Jason and Lenny set out on foot checking up on the few businesses that were on their way to the heart of Moose Creek. Eric and Ken took Don’s truck down Resort Road to check on the camps along there.

  Anna, Karen, John and I discussed the best plan for the rest of the houses.

  “I still think I’ll take Lake Meade, I know most of the folks anyway,” Karen said. “It’s also a nice day for a walk.” Eve
n as she said that, I noticed she had several speed loaders in her pocket for her revolver. A couple of years ago, before she retired, we’d been talking weapons. She was supposed to carry an automatic like the rest of the troopers, however, she preferred her .38 revolver and could load it faster than any of the guys could change a magazine.

  “Do you have a radio, Karen?” I asked, knowing that they only had one between them.

  “Ken took it.”

  “These don’t have much range, but they’re better than nothing.” I handed her an FRS unit. Jason had taken one with him, and John and I would keep the third. I gave the last one to Anna, so we could check in with her if necessary. We had been agreed to keep the first day short, working only four hours. The school would hold the kids until then.

  Without other electrical interference, the radios worked rather well. John and I were on the road out of town where the houses were well spaced. Most of them on twenty, forty or eighty acres, and with rare exception were visible from the road. The first five we stopped at were empty. It was easy to find the circuit panel and pull the mains off, disconnecting the house from the grid. At the sixth house we found a dog on the front porch, lying by the front door, like he was waiting for his master to come home, long dead. I don’t understand owners who will let their pets fend for themselves. I was angry when I stepped over the dog and shoved the door open. The stench hit me hard and I gagged. I guess the dog’s master was home after all.

  I turned back toward John. “Take a deep breath before you come in.” I pulled my turtleneck over my nose. “There’s a body in here somewhere.”

  John followed me in with a handkerchief over his nose. He headed for the back of the house. In the kitchen he found the circuit breaker panel, opened it, pulled the mains, and backtracked, grabbing my arm as he moved quickly. Once outside we both took deep gulps of fresh air. I took a notepad from my pocket and jotted down the address.

  “Are you alright?” I asked John when I noted how pale he was.

  He nodded.

  “This won’t be the last one, you know. I mean, I hope it is, but chances are there are more.”

  He nodded again, and revved up the ATV.

  * * *

  We covered fifteen more houses before we headed back to the township offices. By the solemn faces, I knew we weren’t the only ones to have discovered bodies. Only Jason and Lenny had been spared. I’m sure that’s because in the closer housing units of town, everyone kept tabs on each other.

  “What’s the total so far?” I asked.

  “All the houses in the town proper have been covered. The power is completely off, and major appliances are unplugged. There were no unpleasant surprises,” Lenny reported.

  Ken looked down at his notes. “Eric and I covered twenty camps. Five had someone still living in them and the rest were vacant. We found two bodies, both older folks. I’m assuming they died of natural causes.”

  “I covered ten houses,” Karen said. “Most were empty and no bodies, but I did run into some opposition. At the last house a few of the folks were not exactly friendly. One of them actually pointed a shotgun at me! I told them—from a distance—about the power, and then left.”

  Ken glanced down at his notes once more. “We’ve done almost eighty houses today, and found only three bodies.” He folded his papers. “I’d say we’ve done rather well, all things considered. If The Jack had anything left, I’d suggest we go out for a beer. Since that’s not the case, I’ll see everyone here tomorrow morning at nine-thirty.”

  * * *

  Back home, Emilee jabbered away about how nice the teachers were, how much fun she and Jacob had at school, and how everyone enjoyed the cookies that I had sent with them.

  “Can we take more tomorrow? Dad says we’re going again, and earlier this time. All day school, just like at home.”

  I’m not sure if Emi was enjoying school itself or the attention of bringing treats for everyone.

  “Sure, but we’ll have to make the cookies tonight, Em, since there won’t be time in the morning. How about we make oatmeal this time?”

  “Yum!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands, which got Jacob clapping too. “Those are my favorite!”

  * * *

  JOURNAL ENTRY: March 13

  The oatmeal cookie recipe made four dozen cookies, and I sent only two dozen with the kids. It’s not good to have anyone get used to something that they can’t always have. The kids were dropped off shortly after 9:15 A.M. School starting time has gotten very fluid with only a dozen students. Some showed up later, some not at all. I made a simple jelly sandwich for Emi, and sent a package of ramen for Jacob’s lunch. The teachers were very used to Jacob’s finicky eating, and happily boiled some water for his noodles so they could be sure he would eat.

  * * *

  The four of us were already at the township hall when Ken and Karen showed up. Anna was there when we arrived. Lenny didn’t even show.

  “Even though we knew we were doing something important, I think Lenny was really bored yesterday,” Jason commented. “Or maybe he didn’t want to face any bodies today. I have a feeling that when we branch out, that it becomes more of a possibility. I’m not sure that I want to either, though I’m willing to risk it to get the power back on and stable.”

  None of us want to find bodies, but better us than some children.

  We teamed up differently this time: John, Jason and I comprised one team. Ken, Karen and Eric were on the other. The trouble Karen had yesterday shook her up pretty good. Ken wouldn’t let her go alone again.

  Our team headed for Guy and Dawn’s place on two of our new four-wheelers. The road looked pretty good, only because no one had used it. With two of us on one machine, the weight bogged us down and we had a rough go of it for a stretch. Guy and Dawn’s driveway was made of well packed gravel. I breathed with relief when we got sure footing again.

  “Guy? Dawn?” I called out as I was dismounting the ATV. The door opened quickly and Dawn came running out, grabbing me in a bear hug. The first thing I noticed as I hugged her in return was the gun stuck in the back of her jeans. This was a huge surprise because she was deathly afraid of guns. I stepped back, holding her by the shoulders.

  “Okay, who are you and what have you done with my friend?” I laughed at her look of confusion. “The gun, Dawn, the gun.”

  “Oh, that. I took your advice and ‘got over it’,” she grinned. “Turns out I’m a pretty good shot!”

  “No,” Guy added, “she’s a damn excellent shot!”

  Dawn beamed. She nearly wept with joy when I told her about the power coming back and why we were there.

  “I’m hoping the two of you will come with us while we search your neighborhood to turn off the power, or at least tell us which neighbors are gone and which ones might still be around.”

  “That’s easy,” Guy said. “We’re the only ones left on this end of Lake Meade. Everyone else left early on. Oh, there is one house you might want to avoid— the Cutters’. They stayed for a while, but around Christmas we heard two shots, spaced out. When there was no more smoke from their chimney, I figure it was a double suicide.”

  He described the house, and said that he would go there instead. John went with Guy to disconnect the houses to the south, while Jason, Dawn and I went to the north. The only thing we came across was more dead pets. I don’t think I will ever become immune to the anger and sorrow I felt. From an early age, I was always more connected to animals than I was to people, and I would get emotionally distraught even hearing about the death of a beloved pet.

  In slightly over an hour, we met back at their place, having disconnected fifteen empty houses.

  “Don’t forget to unplug your refrigerator and freezer on Friday morning!” I reminded them. “You certainly don’t want the surge to short out anything. I doubt that we could get a repairman up here. With so many that we’ve managed to take offline, it shouldn’t be a problem, however, I’m sure not taking the chance!”

>   “Mom, I’m sure you haven’t forgotten it’s my birthday today,” Jason whispered after pulling me aside. I smiled; of course I remembered; I would never forget one of my sons’ birthdays.

  “I don’t know if you had anything in mind, but could we invite Guy and Dawn, and Ken and Karen over?” He hesitated. “We’ve been searching Uncle Don’s basement. There are cases and cases of his homemade beer still there down there,” he said excitedly, “and a case of Nancy’s wine too. If I could talk you into making a couple of pizzas, it could be a good way to celebrate getting the power back on.”

  How typically unselfish of him.

  “Jason, it’s your birthday, invite anyone you want.” I tried to remember if there’s enough mozzarella for two large pizzas; if not, there was always parmesan.

  * * *

  When we all grouped again at the township hall, Eric had already collected the kids from the school. They played a game of tag in the near empty parking lot while the adults watched. Jason made his offer of beer and pizza to Ken and Karen, who quickly accepted.

  * * *