by N. C. Reed
“Where did you learn that?” Robert asked.
“It was part of a lesson on economics I had last year,” Gordy admitted. “I almost didn't pay attention but was afraid I'd miss the grade. Turned out to be pretty interesting.”
“So, there's gonna be a lot of hungry people a week or so after this happens,” Robert said. “Reckon where they 'll go for food,” he looked pointedly at his father.
“And we 'll probably lose some cattle to that kind of thing,” Gordon nodded. “And we 'll donate some or whatever you want to call it. And some corn, too, if we can spare it. But there will come a point where we have to say enough. We can't allow people to take everything we own. For one thing, we need breeding stock to replace what they steal or we give away.”
“How will we stop them?” Robert asked quietly.
“I reckon you can work that out for yourself,” Gordon replied calmly. “Once you decide you ain't gonna let your family go hungry for someone else, anyway. I worked all my life for what I got, son,” the older Sanders said. “Ain't nothing in life free. I won't stand by and watch my life's work ruined even by hungry people I know. They need to learn to feed themselves. Grow a garden, hunt, be self-sufficient.”
“Might not be time for that,” Robert semi-objected.
“Might better take time then,” was all his father said.
-
“Please tell me that's it,” Clay sighed as he finished wrestling the sewing machine into the trailer. Bolts of fabric and boxes of thread, needles and other accessories were already piled inside.
“Yes, that was the last store,” his mother told him. Along one side of the trailer sat box after box of jars, and thousands of rings and lids for those jars and those she had at home. Rings could often be used any number of times, but lids were much more delicate. She had bought all that two different places had and knew in her heart it wasn't enough.
“On to the hobby store, and then yes, the Chop House,” she told the twins.
“Yes!” came the chorus reply.
The trip to the hobby store was made fairly quickly all things considered. Clay debated and finally decided to stay with the truck.
“Too much in here to leave it unattended,” he told them. “Rest of you go and have a good time. I 'll hang out here.”
“Are you sure?” Lainie asked quietly. “I can stay with you if you want.”
“No, don't miss this chance,” Clay shook his head. “Might not come again. Go get what you want. Let the kids get what they want too. I have a feeling we won't get too many more opportunities like this.”
And so it was that Clay was all alone when a police car pulled up beside him. Clay sat up straighter in his seat at that, and when the officer got out of the car and started toward his truck, he rolled down his window.
“Afternoon officer,” Clay nodded.
“Afternoon, sir,” the officer returned his nod. “Any reason you're just sitting here?” he asked, looking over Clay's rig.
“My mother, girlfriend, niece and nephew are inside,” Clay sighed, pointing to the store. “I brought, well we brought, my mom here to get her canning supplies and she bought a giant sewing machine to boot, and now she's. . .well, I don't know what she's getting, to be honest,” he admitted. “But being the good son that I am, here I sit. Waiting patiently for my reward, which is a steak dinner,” he grinned.
“Uh huh,” the officer nodded. “We've had several reports of a truck and trailer matching your description being around the city today. Why is that?”
“I just told you,” Clay replied. “Well, and I did take my niece and nephew pawn shop hopping earlier,” he added. “Didn't think about that. The nephew bought some old bicycles to fix up and sell. I got a pretty good deal on some hand tools. Oh, and the RC place,” he added. “Bought us one of those toy drones to use on the farm checking our cattle.”
“So where are you all from?”
“Peabody, down in Calhoun,” Clay replied, wondering where this was going.
“Come here shopping often?” the officer asked.
“Like this? I don't know to be honest,” Clay admitted. “I just got home a few months ago. I know she makes a trip either here or to Columbia every year at canning time. How often she gets up this way otherwise you'd have to ask her.”
“Got home from where?” It almost seemed as if the officer was trying to goad Clay into something.
“I was in the Army,” Clay said simply. “Got out in early spring. Managed to get home just in time for planting season,” he snorted.
“What did you do in the Army?”
“Infantry,” Clay kept his answers simple now.
“Where were you stationed?”
“I was overseas for most of my time,” Clay replied. “I was stateside only for training and once for a school I had to go to. Rest of the time was deployed.”
“What unit were you with?”
“I can't tell you that,” Clay answered. The officer had finally hit something he couldn't talk about.
“And why is that?” the officer demanded.
“Non-disclosure of classified information,” Clay told him. “I've said all I can say about it without getting myself and whoever I tell into some serious trouble.”
“I bet,” the officer stopped short of calling Clay a liar, but Clay let it ride.
“What is this really about?” he asked instead. “I mean we have been to several places today, and then I had to go back and pick up the things my mother bought. But that can't be grounds for this kind of interrogation. Or at least I don't think it is,” he added. “We're just shopping. Well, they're shopping,” he amended.
“I told you we've had several reports about a truck and trailer running around town today,” the officer told him flatly. “I'm investigating.”
“Okay,” Clay nodded. “I've told you all I can, though. We came, we shopped, and hopefully soon we eat. That's all there is to it.”
“You got any ID?” the cop asked.
“I have a license,” Clay replied. “Would you like to see it?” he asked, reaching for his wallet.
“Keep your hands where I can see 'em!” the officer demanded, hand going to his gun.
“You seriously need to switch to decaf,” Clay told the man, raising his hands where they could be seen. “Now you either need to decide you want to see my license or not. If not, then you need to mosey on. I'm sure laws are being broken all over this college town while you sit here harassing a man who is just waiting for-”
“Clayton, what is this?”
“-his mother,” Clay sighed at hearing her voice. “Mom, this is a cop who didn't have anything better to do so he's trying to threaten me I think. I'm not sure yet. I take it you're done shopping?”
“Who are you?” the cop asked Angela.
“You watch how you talk to my mother, buddy,” Clay's voice was suddenly low and edgy. “That badge only buys you so much, and that ain't a part of it.”
“I'm Angela Sanders,” his mother replied. “This is my son, who needs to be driving to the entrance to pick up my things, so if you 'll excuse us we need to be going.” And with that she climbed into the back seat and sat down.
“Have a good day, Barney,” Clay smiled, rolling up the window as he started his truck. He was almost sure he was asking for trouble by driving off while the cop was still talking but he was past caring at this point. What was it about him that seemed to attract cops? Asshole cops at that?
“Why was he harassing you?” his mother asked.
“Claimed they'd had reports of a truck and trailer running around the city,” Clay shrugged as he pulled up to the loading zone where Lainie was waiting with the twins and five shopping carts.
“What did you buy?” Clay asked.
“Things I needed,” Angela told him. “Let’s get this loaded. I'm hungry.”
Clay half expected the cop to follow them down but apparently, his mother's appearance had convinced him that Clay was telling the truth. Which
was good since Clay didn't want to kill two cops in two days.
“Good grief,” he muttered as he took hold of one cart and rolled it to the trailer door. “What is in here?”
“Five bolts of denim,” Lainie told him proudly. “Enough to make several pairs of pants if need be.”
“And some camo, too!” Leon told him as he helped load.
“These are art supplies,” Leanne was more sedate as she carried several smaller bags onto the trailer.
“Art?” Clay looked at her in surprise.
“Gonna need a hobby,” she shrugged.
“True,” Clay allowed. “Good grief this is even heavier!” he exclaimed as he picked up another bag, this one actually two bags, one inside another.
“Candle wax,” Angela told him. “All they had in fact.”
Clay stopped asking questions after that and just concentrated on loading. Next time he would insist that Gordy come along too.
But then there wasn't likely to be a next time, he remembered.
-
“They're busy to be so early,” Angela said as the group entered the restaurant.
“Salad bar looks good,” Lainie noted.
“You've never been here?” Angela asked.
“Nope,” the redhead replied. “Never heard of it,” she shrugged.
“Well, you're in for a treat my dear,” Angela promised.
-
“Oh, my God, I am so full,” Lainie complained as they walked back to the truck an hour later. “Why did you let me eat all that?”
“I didn't let you do anything,” Clay snorted.
“My stomach hurts,” Leon complained.
“I'm not surprised with two trips to the desert bar after eating that steak,” Angela snorted in amusement. “You're lucky you can walk.”
“Ugh,” even Leanne was groaning. “I always want to come here, and always leave miserable. Why is that?”
“You have no self control?” Angela replied. “Don't know when to quit? Or when you've had enough? Stop me when I get warm.”
“Yes,” the girl said simply. Soon they were on the way home. Twenty minutes of riding with a full belly saw both teens and his mother sleeping in the back seat. Lainie had moved across the seat to sit next to him.
“So what's next?” she asked him. “Where do we go from here? I mean what do we do?”
“We go home right now because I'm tired,” Clay laughed. “Then we 'll have to see. We've laid so much of this on so fast, we need to take stock and see where we are. I'm sure there are things we still need or would like to have, but what and where are they? And how much money do we have left? Our goal was to spend all the cash if possible, or at least most of it anyway, since it will probably be worthless when this is over. Could be wrong about that, but if it is as bad as we fear, then even if people still accept money for things, there probably won't be much to buy.”
“This is going to be really ugly, isn't it?” she asked softly.
“Almost certainly,” he nodded as the cell phone buzzed. He held the phone up and glanced at the screen. Lainie saw a simple message;
ETA – 46 + CHANGE IAGW
ALL PARAMETERS MET : LUCKY SEVEN : NINE DEP : QUARTER?
She watched as he tapped a brief response.
ETE – 52 +/- : SAME HERE
QUARTER RED : POSIT TENA & SUST : STANDING BY
He hit send and then put the phone away.
“Who was that?” she asked.
“Friend of mine,” he replied. “He's trying to prepare too. We wanted to stay in touch as long as possible. I figure when the wave hits, assuming the kids are right, then even if a phone still works, the system will be down. Does make me wonder if we could jury rig our own local system.”
“Is that possible?” Lainie asked.
“I have no idea,” Clay admitted. “But if it can be done, then those two and Robert could probably figure it out.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
-
The family met late that night around the dinner table at Gordon's house. The mood was subdued to say the least.
“I still think we need to warn people,” Robert said, his voice mournful rather than challenging. “It just doesn't seem right not to. That we know what's coming and say nothing.”
“What do we tell them?” Gordon asked.
“The truth!” Robert said.
“Okay,” Gordon nodded. “Let’s say, for instance, I go over to Will Plum's place. 'Hey, Will, listen. I been meaning to tell you, my youngest son, he came home from Africa after a witch doctor had a vision that the sky was going to catch fire, so you need to be ready for that.' How do you think the rest of that conversation is going to go?”
“You don't have to tell him that,” Robert shook his head. “You tell him that the twins saw what happened and think it's going to hit us and do a lot of damage.”
“No,” Ronny said at once, shaking his head firmly. “My children's names are not to be mentioned in connection with any of this outside this family and the people who have joined us. Under any circumstances,” he added, looking around the table.
“You can't do that, Ronny,” Robert objected. “They are the ones who managed to find-”
“I'm not going to debate this,” Ronny cut him off sharply. “My kids are not going to be made a target of anyone over this shit, and that is final. And I 'll say this just once; anyone, and I don't care who it is, who mentions them will regret it. I promise you that.” His voice was calm for all that it was full of menace.
“And I 'll help him,” Clay was just as calm, and sounded far more threatening because of it. “Robert, I understand why you feel that way, and I admire you for it, but. . .the truth is, there isn't much we can do. You can try to tell people something is happening but you can't make them believe it. I worked a long time trying to figure a way and came up empty. Look at the trouble I had with you all. Had the event not happened right when we were talking about it would you have believed me? Without seeing it happen right there in front of you?”
“And if you let on that we knew anything before hand then every ill thing that befalls anyone around us will automatically become our fault. And that will lead to people being killed, I promise you,” Clay finished. “And some of them will probably be ours.”
“Most folks around here that matter can take care of themselves, anyway,” Leon said into the lull. “You want to help? Have some extry seeds to give away and things like that. Be using this next two days to think about how you can set up a radio net around here for when we ain't got phones no more. For that matter, you and the kids ought to be able to figure out how to make them phones work at least here local. We should be able to string a line tween the houses here for starters, and run a line over to the Troy place too.”
“That would be helpful,” Clay nodded. “We will need a way to communicate, even if it's just with neighbors. We 'll need to be able to help one another out.”
“I've got maybe eight or nine radios in stock that can work for that,” Robert nodded. “We should be able to relay information through them. Say at least to Jordan, anyway.”
“We ain't gonna want to go into Peabody or any other large town no way,” Leon told him flatly. “Not for some time to come. And you ain't gonna want to be out driving around if nobody else has cars that work, neither. Good way to get your head knocked in and your car stolen.”
“I have to be able to get around,” Patricia said. “To see patients.”
“You 'll have to limit it to around here close for a bit,” Gordon told her. “You can't do nobody any good with a busted head, girl. We can organize some kind of safety for you to see folks once in a while, but you won't be able to just up and go at the mention of a problem. It just ain't gonna be safe if things go to pot the way the kids think it will.”
“I have an obligation-”
“To this family,” Angela said sternly, cutting her daughter-in-law off. “Starting with your children and your husband, not to mention the rest
of us. Everything else has to come after. That's something all of you need to get through your heads now, rather than later,” she looked to each one in turn.
“If things are as bad as we fear they will be, then you are going to see an ugly side to people that you've never seen before. People you think you know will become different people altogether under that kind of strain. We are all that we have, now and later on. This family has to come before anyone else. This farm will feed us and many others besides, so it has to be protected and it has to be worked. Any obligation any of us have begins right here,” she tapped the table with an index finger. “Everything else, everyone else, comes afterward. Period. Get that thought into your minds right now, and then keep it firmly there from now on.”
“We. Come. First.”
“She's right,” Leon decreed. “None of you have seen people when times are really and truly bone crushing hard. I have. And I'm telling you right now you don't know anyone until they hit hard times. There's nothing says we can't and won't help others,” he told Robert first and then looked to the others. “But you won't be taking a thing that one of my great-grandchildren may need and giving it to another living soul. That I can promise you. I have spent a small fortune to make sure that my family is able to survive this or anything else that happens, and even have a few creature comforts along. Nothing like now, mind, but better than nothing. And I will not see that endangered by anything, no matter how well meant.”
“Pa, we're all adults and have to make our own decisions,” Alicia said primly, her hackles rising. “You don't make decisions for us.”
“I make decisions for what I spent my money on, and for this farm,” Leon told her flatly. “You'd do well to remember that, Ally. You really don't want to try me, girl.” The Old Man's voice was like iron. “Your husband is talking sense, and good sense at that. Better start listening to him. If you do, you just might make it through this.”
