“That you Darwin?” the man called out in a deep voice.
“Now who else would it be, Gene? You got a few minutes this morning?”
“Always got time for neighbors, old son. Come on in and sit a spell.”
Gene led us through the front of the house and into a kitchen in back. The living room looked neat and uncluttered, like the space did not see much use. I noted pictures on the walls and a small case with porcelain figurines but I did not move closer to examine anything.
The kitchen, I realized quickly, was the command center for the Laretto operation. Notebooks and papers covered the wide breakfast table tucked in next to a large window, and the kitchen area itself was bisected by a long skinny island cluttered with sealed glass containers. Flour and sugar I figured.
“Gene, you know my son Nick,” Darwin said, and then quickly ran through the other introductions. We all shook hands and I found Gene Laretto had a grip like a steel trap. Not that he exerted that much pressure, but I could feel the coiled strength in the man. If I ever had to fight him, it would not be hand-to-hand, I mused.
“Ah, so this is the young man you mentioned the other day. Walked all the way from Chicago, did you?” Gene said casually, but I could tell he was watching my reaction.
“Not all of it. I caught a ride the last bit. From Harrison, anyway.”
“Yes, caught a ride indeed. Killed four men trying to take my Ruthie, he did.” Darwin said with some pride.
“No sir. Just lending a hand. Stan got that last one, and he had me square in his sights, too.”
That got a more calculating glance from Gene.
“You seen what it’s like out there, then? Darwin has been tried to get the facts through my thick skull, but I just can’t imagine the country has fallen this far, this quick. We been pretty safe here, just being careful. Keep a man on the gate and somebody to check the stock more often.”
In response, Darwin laid out the story of the raider camp, from me getting shot to the second battle of Saw Creek. He described what happened to the Trimble family and about the three girls we rescued, just saying they were taken from a refugee center. He did not name Mr. Rufus, but shared his own concerns about someone intending to target the farmers in the area.
Gene took it all in, and sat quietly for a moment before speaking.
“And where’s the law been in all this?” he finally asked. His words were not challenging, but somehow resigned.
“No clue,” Nick answered. “I went by the station in Gentry early on, and didn’t see a soul. The place had been looted and burned. Siloam Springs PD station was open the first time we came through making deliveries but I haven’t seen anybody there since. Sheriff’s Department? If it ain’t Bentonville, it don’t matter, right?”
That last little bit sounded like an old gripe, and Gene nodded.
“I can’t believe somebody was doing that, scouting out your place. That’s just scary. I don’t have enough folks here to do real patrols. Me, Sam, Melinda, and Jack are it.”
“Well, we might have some help on the manpower front,” Darwin began and launched into the tale of Glenn’s arrival. He just hit the highlights, though before Gene interrupted.
“You got room for 53 more people? Much less food for that many?” Gene replied in shock.
“No, but I sent them over to the Walsh place for now. They’re city folks but they’re willing to work. Fact is, they look more than half starved right now. Food has been mighty scarce out there for awhile, as you can figure.”
“For sure. That young couple next door aren’t in much better shape, I think. The Satterwhite’s is their name, I think. I’ve been helping out with some beef for them since their garden isn’t able to keep them fed.” Gene shook his head, and looked down before continuing.
”I still can’t believe what happened to the Trimbles. And you say they took the little girls too?”
Cassie nodded, and I could tell she was biting her tongue to keep from saying more.
“Gene, can you spare a little time this afternoon? Say about three o’clock? I’m aiming to visit with everybody on this road first, then we can come over to the house and try to come up with some kind of strategy.” Darwin asked.
“Well, I got my motorcycle running last week. Sweet Harley. I always wanted one and finally broke down and bought it. Had to bypass all those fancy fuel thingies but it runs, so sure. Only problem is, I don’t know if I got a single clock in the house that still runs. All plugged in. My watch stopped running that day and ain’t worked since. So give me a call on the CB when you are ready for me to come over.”
“You need anything, Gene? Fuel, food, or firearms? If I can spare it, you got it.”
“No, I’m good. Hate all that corn I got is going to be going to waste, though. I guess I can turn the cows in on it.”
“Gene, we can still get it harvested. You got field corn right?” Darwin asked.
“Yeah, but it’s for cattle, not people I always heard tell.” Gene looked at his neighbor with a curious glance.
“No, you just have to pick it sooner, before it gets hard. Pick it just after the tassels turn. That’s what I’m doing with mine. Harder to deal with, some ways. But you can eat it. Not as juicy as sweet corn, but it will fill your belly.” Darwin spoke with authority and Gene nodded along.
“Well, if you say so. I’ve never been much of a farmer, and I put in that fifteen acre plot of corn just to help defray the cost of cattle feed, you know? Is your tractor running yet?”
Darwin nodded, then added that in addition to his fancy harvester, as he called it, he could also run the row picker with one of the other, older tractors.
“Slower, but allows us to be in two places at once.”
With that assurance, Gene finally opened up and admitted he was running short on flour and cornmeal. Darwin was quick to volunteer a couple of fifty pounds bags of both, and explained he ground his own using the feed grinder in his barn. Gene seemed encouraged, and promised to head over as soon as he heard the call. They even arranged to do it by a code word. I tried not to laugh, because in reality this could be important for their future.
When we got up to leave, I looked around and noticed someone else was waiting by the door to the kitchen, listening in on the conversation. She was in her mid to late twenties, with a shock of red hair and freckles. Dressed in jeans and a checkered long sleeved shirt, she looked every in a cowgirl. The real kind, that worked cattle on horseback and ate trail dust as a matter of course. Though she was much older, something about the way she held herself reminded me of my sister.
“Did I hear Ruthie is back?” she asked as she stepped forward and gave Darwin a big hug.
“Yes indeed. She just got in a few days ago, with Stan and little Sophia. Well, I guess it’s been nearly a week now. You need to catch a ride over with your dad and see the kids.” Darwin said, as he patted the girl on the back in a fatherly way.
“On the back of his motorcycle? Are you crazy? I’ll take my Vespa instead, thank you very much. Has any of you actually seen my father on a motorcycle?”
That got a laugh from everybody, her father included, as we headed out the door. We left with smiles all around. The Laretto ranch needed more hands to help work the cattle and maybe guard their spread, but at least these folks were willing to work with Darwin. That had to count for something.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
We spent the rest of the morning visiting with the neighbors with varying degrees of success. Gene was right about the Satterwhite family. The two kids, both under the age of ten, looked okay but their parents looked gaunt and hollow eyed. Also, scared to death when we first rolled up. Derrick Satterwhite recognized Darwin, of course, and the two adults relaxed a bit when they realized we were there to help. Nick had been by earlier, but apparently since then their stores of food began to run mighty slim. I knew from my own experience, people didn’t realize how quickly they burned through canned goods when that was all there was to eat.
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Derrick, I discovered, was an electrician, and Darwin worked out a barter deal for Mr. Satterwhite. He would come see about helping Sid repair the partially disabled solar system in exchange for food for the family. I kept my mouth shut until we managed to get away and proceed to the next homestead up the road.
“I saw what you did back there, Mr. Keller, but I’m not sure I understand. You wanted to just give him the food but seemed to change your mind, correct?” I asked.
“I know Derrick a little, Luke. He’s a proud man, and making a deal to use his skills in exchange for food will let him feed his family without feeling beholden to us. Plus, if he brings his wife and kids, we can feed them, too. I worry about them anyway. That gate wouldn’t stop anybody from crashing through. I don’t think he has much in the way of weapons either, other than that shotgun.”
And so the day went. Cass checked up on Mr. and Mrs. Tigh, an elderly couple who both needed medicines to regulate their high blood pressure, Type Two diabetes, and in the case of Mr. Tigh, a heart arrhythmia. They lived on a ten acre plot and had been getting by on the produce from their garden. Cass made a point of complimenting them on their improved blood pressure readings and weight loss, which Mr. Tigh attributed to their crash diet.
“It’s the ‘end of the world’ meal plan, honey,” he claimed, and gave her a little wink.
“Not the end of the world, Herman,” Darwin chided the older man. “The world’s still spinning, we just don’t have the electrical power is all. You’all going to be able to come by the house this afternoon?”
Mr. Tigh shook his head before answering.
“Sorry Darwin, you’re goin’ to have to plan this party without us. My old truck won’t start and I am not riding Bertie’s ten speed up that hill, thank you kindly.”
“Well, let me lay it out for you now, then. We have some food we can share around, eggs and some chickens. We will be harvesting the corn and soybeans soon, so there’s that, too. Gene’s going to be a part of this, and the Satterwhite family, too. We plan to mount guard positions on both ends of the county road and see about improving security while trying to keep everybody fed at the same time. I ain’t going to lie, Herman, winter is going to be hard, and the food is going to be pretty plain, but we can make it.”
We were sitting on the screened in front porch of the Tigh’s house, Herman and Bertie Tigh sitting in their rockers while the rest of us sat on straight back kitchen chairs carried out for the occasion.
“Hell, Darwin, I don’t imagine I’ll make it past winter anyway. I’m eighty four years old for God’s sake. I take more medicine than I can keep up with, and now can’t get no more, anyway. I’m not much use to this plan of yours.”
Nick leaned forward in his seat and spoke before his father could frame a suitable reply.
“Mr. Tigh, you are more valuable than you can imagine. You remember the old ways of farming, and how people got by using the old ways. You didn’t grow up with electricity in your house, did you?”
“Well, yeah, son. We didn’t get the wires run out here to the country until after I came back from Korea. That would have been about ’54, I think.”
“And you, Mrs. Tigh, you have a wonderful garden here and I’m sure have seen all the ways food can be stored and preserved. Am I right?”
“Well, I guess you have a point, Nicholas. Maybe we can help out, but my old fingers can’t shuck those corn cobs like they used to,” Mrs. Tigh allowed, a little smile finally showing on her wrinkled, sun spotted features.
Darwin finally spoke up, catching hold of his son’s train of thought.
“Miss Bertie, young hands we got plenty of, but we need some seasoned skill to tell them what to do. Don’t worry about coming to this meeting today. We already know you folks have a lot to offer. I’ll get Mark or one of the hands to come by tomorrow and drop off some eggs and a little of that cheese Hazel has been making, too.”
In all, Darwin spoke with all nine of the remaining families on the road and made arrangements for six representatives to come by his house that afternoon to discuss further plans for feeding and defending the collected families. In addition to Gene Laretto, two more farms had crops that needed harvesting in the field, and one gentleman had nearly a hundred market weight hogs that would need to be slaughtered come winter. He was particularly insistent, worried because he lacked enough feed to carry his stock through the winter.
Most of the homesteads had “doubled up” after the lights went out. Extended family or friends showed up in the wake of the power failure and some of the houses were packed with extended stay house guests, though none to the extreme of the Keller’s.
Darwin never mentioned firearms to any of the neighbors, but he did say he had some extra ammunition available for trade if any needed it. He also explained what happened to the Trimble family, and that the wife and daughters were now staying as guest of their family. The more disturbing details, Darwin omitted, but again Cass’s stormy expression silently conveyed what needed to be said.
When we finally got back to the farm, lunch was being served and I gladly fell in line to fill my plate. Food remained a focus for me, sad to say, and I made sure to pile on the fried chicken before looking to find Amy.
She was seated with the three teenage girls she bunked with, and I was greeted with four smiling faces when I walked over to check in. Amy’s eyes sought out mine in a silent question and I nodded my head slightly. Clearly, she wanted to know if the issue of these girls and their friends had been addressed. Nick and I had talked about this, as well as other things.
Personally, I wasn’t that invested in the rescue idea if it meant bringing in the National Guard . Yes, it was horrible what would likely happen to the other girls, but I couldn’t save the world. Heck, I knew that from painful experience. Sadly, I had other priorities, like making sure Amy stayed safe. Maybe the guardsmen could do something, but I worried that making them aware of our existence might be inviting bigger problems. On a personal front, I knew after lunch Amy and would be having the meeting I had been dreading.
So I ate and tried to listen to the girls as they chatted around me. I said little, even when asked something directly. Amy knew me well enough to understand this wasn’t normal, so she played along and we finished our meals quickly.
“You want to help me with the solar ovens?” Amy asked when we were done washing up our plates at the outdoor station.
“Sure thing,” I replied, and followed her to the open sided shed dedicated to the construction of these simple little cookers. Using cardboard, aluminum foil and staples, Hazel Keller copied various designs from survival manuals until she found the ones that worked best. I found out she had been at it for a couple of months now and I thought she was doing a great job. I recognized Hazel’s handiwork at most of the neighboring homes and discovered she was the source of these simple but effective devices.
Amy, of course, jumped at the chance to help and quickly picked up the knack for building the ovens. Now they were working on rocket stoves as well, which took longer but offered a great source of heat for cooking using only small limbs and sticks for fuel. With lunch still in swing, for the moment we had the building to ourselves.
“So, now do you want to explain why you beat up that old man?” Amy asked, looking up and batting her eyes at me as she spoke.
“Sure, and I’m sorry I didn’t see you this morning like I planned. I was up late with Nick and we talked about stuff. Anyway.”
I cleared my throat and wondered how much I dared say.
“I needed to kick Gary’s ass because what he was saying placed you in danger.”
“What kind of danger?” Amy asked softly, her earlier confident air seeming to deflate.
“You know what kind of danger.” I replied evenly, pausing for a beat as she processed what I meant.
“If he goes around calling you a whore, and gets away with it, then some jackass around here might think they can take advantage of you. I didn’t challen
ge him because he hurt my feelings, even though I know what he said had to have hurt yours. So, yes, even though I did kick his ass for safety reasons, it also made for a nice bonus because I knew the words caused you pain.”
Amy looked down and nodded, her face pensive. What her own uncle tried to do with her, to her, would be a painful subject for years to come.
“Why do people…what makes people like Gary or my uncle think it is okay to treat us like things? Or those horrible assholes that raped Mrs. Trimble and those little girls? Why did the lights going out make this okay for them?”
I didn’t have all the answers, but I had been wondering the same thing for awhile.
“We’ve always had people like that in our society, and even if we didn’t condone it, we did darn little to fight it. Sure, guys went to prison for twenty years for abducting a woman off the street and raping her, but date rape? Slipping a girl a roofie and having a little fun? That was just given a wink and a slap on the wrist in a lot of cases.”
“How do you know about this sort of thing, Luke?” Amy asked, her face concerned again.
“A girl I knew from school. She was a freshman in high school and her dumbass sister took her to a frat party. Things went horribly wrong, as is always the case. She was gang raped by a bunch of the party goers.”
I paused to see if Amy had any questions, but she just waited.
“Anyway, so we have a bunch of assholes who already think women are fair game, and then the lights go out? No cops, no judges and no prison? Heck, this gives them the perfect excuse to act out their sick little fantasies.
“Plus, rape is an act of violence, of dominance. I imagine there’s a lot of men scared about where their next meal is coming from. By committing this despicable act, they can make themselves feel like they are in control of something. Don’t get me wrong. I’ll still kill them every chance I get, but I think this is part of what is going on out there. But, what the heck do I know?”
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