by James Hunt
He gathered up his nails when he heard muffled voices coming from downstairs. When Mike walked over to the stairs, he saw Ray and Anne in the foyer below.
“It happened today? Bessie told me that it was tomorrow,” Anne said.
“Mike, we need to talk,” Ray said.
The three of them sat in the living room and were joined by Ulysses. Ray recounted what had happened at the meeting at the Beachums’.
“So, what? They’re going to try and steal our supplies if we don’t give it over to them?” Anne asked.
“Not at first, but everyone’s starting to feel the pressure. There were at least ten families at that meeting,” Ray said.
“They’re being driven by fear. Ray’s right; it won’t be long before they start stealing instead of asking,” Ulysses said.
With the windows sealed shut, they had lit candles to help illuminate the house. Mike looked at all of the shadows being cast across half visible faces. Men can’t survive in the dark.
“Get the kids ready. We’ll leave tonight,” Mike said.
“You got room for one more in that jeep?” Ray asked.
“What if we don’t?” Ulysses asked.
“Relax, Ulysses. I just need to know if I should wait around or not,” Ray said.
Mike mulled it over. Ray had known about his jeep and, to his knowledge, hadn’t told anyone else about it.
“Pack all of the food you can. Do you have a gun?” Mike asked.
“Yeah.”
“Bring it and all the ammo you have.”
After Ray had left Anne ran upstairs to gather the kids. Ulysses walked over to Mike.
“You trust that guy?” Ulysses asked.
“I’ll find out soon enough,” Mike said.
Mike made five trips from the cellar to the jeep in the garage. He threw packs of food, ammo, and first aid in the back of the jeep. He strapped everything down with a few cargo belts and shook the supplies a few times to make sure it was secure.
He heard shouts coming from upstairs. Mike made it to the second floor and Anne was standing outside Kalen’s door with both her hands on her hips.
“Kalen Grace Logs, you open this door right now!” Anne said.
“What’s going on?” Mike asked.
“She’s locked herself in her room, because she doesn’t want to leave.”
“Let me talk to her. You make sure Freddy’s good to go,” Mike said.
Anne threw her hands up and walked into Freddy’s room. Mike knocked on the door.
“Kalen, open up,” Mike said.
“No! I’m not leaving.”
“C’mon, Kay, open the door. You owe me that much for the shower.”
There was a pause and then the sound of footsteps and the door unlocking.
When Mike entered Kalen had her legs crossed sitting on top of her bed scratching the paint from her nails.
“I’m not going,” she said.
“Well, Freddy will be devastated.”
Mike ignored the eye roll, and focused on the smile instead. He sat down beside her, putting his hand on her leg.
“What’s going on?” Mike asked.
“It’s just not fair, Dad! Why did this have to happen now? Why couldn’t this have happened after I was dead, or at least after college? What am I supposed to do now? What am I going to do with my life? What has the past three years of high school meant if it doesn’t exist anymore? James was just starting to like me.”
Mike cringed at the sound of James’ name, so he was glad she wasn’t looking at him. He didn’t think it would help the situation.
“Kalen, we can’t control everything that happens to us. The best we can do is prepare for what we can control and hope for the best. That’s all any of us can do.”
Her shoulders began to shake and Mike walked up behind her and she spun around into his arms, her tears soaking through his shirt.
“I’m scared, Dad.”
“We’ll be fine. I promise.”
The Night of the Fifth Day
Twelve families brought all of the canned goods and water they could find. The measly collection of their combined efforts lay scattered across the floor of the Beachums’ living room. It was enough to feed each family for another two day. After that they would have nothing.
“This is everything?” Ted asked.
“That’s all we had,” Rusty said.
“We were down to our last can,” Sam replied.
“We brought more than everyone else. I just want to point that out,” Brian said.
The families were restless. Everyone’s eyes drifted from the food and supplies in the middle of the room to the faces circling it. Family members whispered in each other’s ears.
“I bet Frank has more than what he brought.”
“There’s no way they only had one can.”
“Just because they’re fat asses and don’t know how to ration we’ve got to give them our food?”
Bessie checked each house she visited from top to bottom. She spent all afternoon going door to door, scouring every cabinet, cupboard, cellar, attic, and shed to find what she could. Each time she moved from one house to another. E
“I think it’s safe to say that everyone here contributed as much as they could,” Bessie said.
Everyone stopped talking and looked at Bessie.
“However, it does seem that a few of our neighbors are in a better situation than we are and aren’t matching our… generosity,” she said.
Bessie made her way over to Adam. He kept his head down and avoided looking at her the entire night. She knew that Mike had given Adam supplies.
“Adam,” she said.
Adam He kept his face down. His feet shuffled awkwardly in place. He fiddled with his hands, pulling at his fingers. Bessie walked slowly to him, showing motherly concern.
“Don’t you think that Mike and his family should help the rest of us like they helped you?” Bessie asked.
“I... I don’t know,” Adam answered.
“But you’re the one who told us they gave you that basket of food there. Are you saying that’s all they have?”
“I didn’t see how much they had. They just gave it to me.”
“Well, then. That settles it. If they’re able to hand out food like that on a whim then they should have enough for all of us. Now, we’ll divide up what we have here and then everyone should head home. We’ll start fresh in the morning,” Bessie said.
The families lined up and everything was rationed equally. People either received fewer goods than what they brought, or more than they were able to offer.
Bessie pulled Adam aside from the line. She brought him into the kitchen. Ted followed.
Bessie sat him down at the kitchen table and joined him from the other side. Ted stood by the stove watching both of them.
“Adam, I appreciate what you told me about the Logs. It was very helpful, but I was curious to know if they had anything else. Did they have any other provisions, any modes of transportation, any…weapons?” Bessie asked.
Adam looked up at her, then to Ted whose face was stolid.
“I told you I never went inside. They brought everything to me.”
“Well, it’s well known that Mike has always been one to prepare for these types of things.”
“If he hadn’t given me that food my boy would still be hungry.”
“Adam, if Mike really cared about making sure your boy was okay wouldn’t he have come today? Wouldn’t have he tried everything he could to make sure your boy didn’t go hungry again?”
Bessie lifted Adam’s chin. She wiped the tears forming at the corner of his eyes.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right he should have been here tonight,” Adam said.
Bessie watched his hands curl into fists and then he was pounding them on the kitchen table, knocking the saltshaker to its side.
“Why the hell didn’t he come?” Adam said.
“Do you still have your brother’s guns and ammo?”
she asked.
***
Mike loaded the 12-gauge shells into the shotgun. He checked the safety and put it in the large duffle bag he pulled from storage. Voices coming from upstairs made him freeze; he was holding a handful of 9mm shells. He threw on his holster and tucked the pistol in it, leaving the strap used to cover the gun open, in case he needed it.
The stairs creaked with each step up from the basement. Mike could hear the mumbled speech became clearer the closer he moved to the open door.
“Anne, it’s so wonderful to see you. You seem to be holding up well.”
“Thank you, Bessie. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Well, I was hoping too- Oh, hello, Mike.”
Mike watched her eyes fall to the pistol at his side. Her fake astonishment didn’t have the effect she intended.
“Do you really think it’s necessary to carry a gun around like that? I mean really, Anne, what if Freddy got a hold of one,” Bessie asked.
What do you want, Bessie?” Mike asked.
“I’m sure you know a few of the families in the neighborhood are in a bad spot with what’s been happening. Some of us have decided to pool our resources for the benefit of the neighborhood. I wanted to see if you and Anne would like to join us.”
“Who needs help?” Anne asked.
“Well, everyone really, but there are some folks worse off than others… and a few that are better off than most.”
Mike saw her eyes land on the open basement door that Mike had left. They were only there for a moment, but Mike saw it.
“I’ll run downstairs and see what I can put together,” Anne said.
“Oh, let me help you.”
“No, it’s all right. I’ll only be a minute.”
Anne slid behind Mike and left him alone with Bessie.
“It’s very kind of you to help the way you have, Mike. Not everyone is as fortunate as you are,” Bessie said.
Mike followed her to the edge of the living room. She leaned in without moving her feet from the hardwood floor of the foyer to the brown carpet of the living room.
“Redecorating?” she asked motioning to the plywood over the windows.
“Just making sure the things that belong outside stay outside,” Mike said.
Bessie backed closer to the front door when Anne returned from downstairs with a bag of goods almost spilling over at the top.
“Oh, Anne, this is too much really,” Bessie said.
“No, take it. I hope it helps with what you’re trying to do,” Anne said.
“It surely will.”
Bessie clutched the bag to her chest with both hands. Her shoes clacking against the pavement as she walked back to her home. The moon highlighted her hair along with the slight outline of her downturned mouth, furrowed brow, and creases in her forehead. She entered through her back door into the kitchen and dumped the cans from the bag, sending them clanking and rolling onto the counter tops.
Tim and Adam sat at the kitchen table. Both were emptying boxes of bullets and filling magazines. Both of them froze at the sight of the goods spilling onto the counter.
“They have all that?” Adam asked.
“That’s a fraction of what they have. They’re holding out on us and they’re boarding up their house so no one can get in. They’re creating a fortress over there,” Bessie said.
Adam shoved one of the loaded magazines into his pistol. The click brought a smile to Bessie’s face.
“We hit them in the morning,” Bessie said.
Day Six
Mike rolled out of bed. The room was pitch black. He stumbled to the bathroom tripping over one of Anne’s shoes again. His hands ran along the dresser until they wrapped around the pocket watch that his grandfather had given him. It was the only thing that still kept time in the house.
He lit a candle in the bathroom and held the clock face up to the light. 6 a.m. The watch snapped shut and he scooped some of the water in the sink into his hands, splashing it on his face. He walked back out to the bedroom, candle in hand, and let the glow fill the room.
The light hit Anne curled up under the sheets. Mike stood there staring at his wife, just like he had done for the past twenty-six years, every day before he left for work.
The floorboards creaked from Mike’s steps. He tiptoed to Freddy’s room and cracked the door open. His son lay still, quiet on his bed with all of the covers thrown off and his shirt up, exposing his belly. Freddy had his mouth open and all of his limbs were extended outwards like a starfish.
When he opened the door to his daughter’s room she looked just like her mother. Curled up under the covers. The sheets rising and falling from her calm, steady breaths.
He stood in the center of the hallway among the three rooms. This could be the last time he watched them sleep in this house.
Pictures hung on all the walls around him. The vacation to the Grand Canyon they took three summers ago. The Christmas mornings, Thanksgiving feasts, birthdays, anniversaries, all on display. The memories came flooding back to him.
The tear he wiped from his cheeks wasn’t one of sadness for having to leave, nor fear of what was ahead. It simply represented all of the joy he felt during those moments frozen in time along the walls, and the gratefulness he felt for still being able to remember them.
Mike stepped down into the cellar to grab the guns and ammo and check for any last items he may have missed. He had the duffle bag strap on his shoulder, walked back up into the house and headed for the garage.
***
“Don’t you all want to keep your family alive?” Bessie asked.
Shouts and cheers filled Bessie’s living room. Fifteen families crowded together. Bessie stood on top of her coffee table in the center of the group, Tim standing by her side.
“We tried to come together in a civilized manner didn’t we?”
Hands clinched into fists. Fingers wrapped tightly around baseball bats, crowbars, tire irons, pistols, and rifles throughout the crowd.
“Most of us answered that call and for that my family, and every other family here, thanks you.”
All of the animosity they had for each other the night before had transformed to a single point of hate. A universal cry of fear and hunger rose from the crowd.
“But one family did not answer that call. One family chose to keep what they had to themselves. One family is letting you starve.”
She fed them hate.
“Your family can’t survive without the food they have. We don’t know when help is coming. Help may never come, so we have to help ourselves.”
She fed them fear.
“But you can do something about it. You can make sure your family survives. You can make sure that they all have something to eat!”
She fed them the answers they wanted to hear.
Bessie threw her hands out, calming the crowd. The cheers slowly dissipated. She stepped down from the coffee table. Tim handed her the bullhorn and she marched everyone out the front door.
***
Mike first heard the squeal of the bullhorn from inside the garage. He rushed to the front door; looking through the peephole he saw twenty people standing out front in the morning light. Bats, crowbars, tire irons, and rifles were poised at the ready.
“Mike, we don’t want to harm anyone. All we want you to do is the right thing. We know you have supplies and there are people out here who need them,” Bessie said.
Anne, Freddy, and Kalen rushed from their rooms and were leaning on the banister rail above Mike, listening to the words echo outside the walls of their house.
“Dad?” Kalen asked.
“Stay there,” Mike said.
Ulysses came out of the guest bedroom fully dressed in a long sleeve shirt, jeans, and boots. He grabbed the duffle bag off Mike’s back and set it on the floor. He pulled out the .223 rifle. The clang of metal on metal rang through the foyer when he shoved a clip in.
“How many?” Ulysses asked.
Mike clicked the safety off the shotgun.
