Gathering Home

by JEFF MOTES

“Go for checkpoint two.”

  “I’ve shot a deer. If you guys want the heart and liver, send somebody over.”

  “Roger. I’ll get back with you shortly.”

  The chatter increases on the radio as I walk to the garage. Mr. and Mrs. Wright have managed to get the deer hung from one of the rafters. The only problem is they hung him by his neck and not his hind legs. I guess you can skin them that way, though I’ve never seen it done. Grandpa taught me to do it the other way.

  Things appear weird in the open garage with the flashlights moving here and there. Mr. and Mrs. Wright are standing around the deer. Amy starts to return to the house, but Lizzy catches her by the arm.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” Lizzy says.

  A familiar voice comes over the radio. “This is Pastor Ezell. Come in, Will.”

  “Go for Will.”

  “We’re on our way over.”

  “Copy.” I stow the radio in my pocket. “Mr. Wright, is this the way you skin your deer?”

  “I’ll admit it’s been a long time since I’ve cleaned a deer. Maybe you should do it.”

  “All right, we need to find something to use as a gambrel and hang him with his head down.”

  “What’s a gambrel?” Mrs. Wright asks.

  “It’s something we can use to spread the deer’s hind legs apart and hang him with. I guess we could do it the way you have him hung, though I’ve never seen anybody do it that way.”

  While Mr. Wright and I are talking, a 4-wheeler drives up pulling a trailer. Pastor Ezell and Lee get off and come over. They look the deer over.

  “Nice deer,” Pastor Ezell says. “We’ve killed a few, but we have lots of mouths to feed. We’ll certainly accept whatever you have to offer.”

  Mr. Wright clears his throat. “All we’re going to be able to share is the deer’s insides.”

  “Of course, that’s generous of you,” Pastor Ezell replies. “How are you going to preserve the deer? You’re not going to be able to eat all of it before it spoils.”

  “What we don’t cook today, we’re going to smoke,” I answer. “I watched my grandpa do it a few times, though it was always in the winter when he did it.”

  Pastor Ezell is rubbing his chin. “I’ll make this offer to you. Let me take the deer. We’ll clean it and keep from the shoulders to the head. Tomorrow I’ll bring the rest of the deer back to you iced down. That’ll give you some time to decide exactly what and how you’re going to cook and cure it. Plus, I’ll also bring some vegetables.”

  “You have ice?” Amy asks.

  “Yes, we have a few folks with generators. They’re keeping their refrigerators running and making ice.”

  Mr. Wright pulls me to the side and whispers in a lowered voice, “I don’t know, Will. Can we trust him?”

  “Yes,” I reply, “we can. And I think it’s a good idea. Most of the meat is in the back of the deer anyway, and we’re going to need more light to slice it up and set up a smoker. If they can ice it down, it will help a lot. I say we do it.”

  We walk back over.

  “All right, Pastor,” Mr. Wright says. “We agree.”

  Pastor Ezell and Lee load the deer on the trailer.

  “Jimmy, we’re going to need your cooler.”

  I get it from the garage and set it on the trailer and shake Pastor Ezell’s and Lee’s hands.

  “Thank you.”

  “We’ll bring the cooler back after daylight,” Pastor Ezell says. “You’ve done good, Will. Take care.”

  Chapter 18

  Jimmy

  Things of Value

  Day 8

  Lynn and I are sitting at the kitchen table. It’s been daylight for quite a while. Maybe I should wake the kids, but I know they’re pretty tired, especially Will. He’s been carrying more than his share of the burden around here the past few days. He’s a sharp kid and would really be good for Amy. The deer he shot is going to go a long ways for our family, especially if we can preserve some of it.

  Many years ago as a young kid, I helped my grandfather smoke some pork hams, though I don’t remember any of the details on how he did it. Will said he helped his grandfather do it a few years ago. He also said he had some YouTube videos on his iPhone explaining how it’s done. The kid has a working iPhone. He said he and his dad had hundreds of ‘how to’ videos saved. How is it he is so prepared and I’m not? I still find it hard to believe that despite all my success in my career and all the money I’ve managed to save and invest, at this moment I have practically nothing to show for it. Nothing!

  Our available food supply is dwindling rapidly. Even the food Will brought is nearly gone. The deer will help a lot but for how long? A couple of days? Our water is almost gone too, and the pool is starting to turn green. Soon it will be unusable, even for the toilets. If we stay here, we’re going to have to go to the creek in the woods and haul water using the wheelbarrow. It’ll be a tiresome daily chore for sure.

  Our options as a family are not good. We either stay where we are and starve or we move into Pastor Ezell’s community and become indentured servants. Neither are good options. If we move to Pastor Ezell’s community, we probably won’t starve, but we will be indentured servants with no hope of escape. What future is there for Amy there? None. An image of her shacking up with one of those boys makes me puke.

  Will is a better option for her. He’s smart, confident, and obviously has a lot of supplies at home. She has got to make him her boyfriend. If she does, she’ll be safe, and perhaps we can all go to his house in Repose. Based on the supplies and gadgets he brought here, there is no doubt in my mind there is much more at his home, but he’s going to leave soon. Amy is going to have to do whatever it takes to make him want her to go with him. If she does, it will save her and our family. If she doesn’t, we’ll have a miserable existence. I can hardly believe it has come to this: me pushing my fifteen-year-old daughter on a seventeen-year-old boy. How did things go so wrong!

  “Good morning, Amy,” Lynn says, bringing me back from my thoughts.

  Amy is walking in wearing a pair of sleep shorts and a sleep shirt.

  “What’s good about it?” she grunts and flops down in a chair. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “What’s the matter, darling?”

  “There’s too much on my mind, Mom. That’s all.”

  She picks her head up from the table. Her long, dark hair flows down her shoulders. Amy is a beautiful young lady, and my heart aches for the things she will have to go through in this new world.

  “Amy,” I say carefully, “you know Will and Lizzy are going to be leaving soon.”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know when, but soon. I’m sure Will’s place will be much better than that run-down trailer park.”

  She remains silent for a few moments, staring into the middle of the table. “I’m trying, Dad.”

  Lynn pats Amy’s hand. “How about some oatmeal? I have hot water ready.”

  “Yes. Thanks, Mom.”

  “Jimmy, get the bowls and pour the oatmeal in.”

  I do, and Lynn adds the hot water. I still hate oatmeal.

  As we finish our meager breakfast, the sounds of a 4-wheeler coming up the drive drift through the open windows.

  “Amy, go wake Will,” I tell her. “If he’s too tired, let him rest a little longer. You should get more rest too. You look tired. I’ll handle Pastor Ezell.”

  Amy heads down the hall for Lynn’s hobby room, where we set up an old bed for Will. She opens the door and steps in, closing it behind her. I head for the front door.

  The man driving the 4-wheeler is not Pastor Ezell. It’s James Harris, one of the members of Pastor Ezell’s congregation. James works in the back side of the mill. At least he did until he got caught stealing and was fired a few months ago. I’d always heard he had sticky fingers.

  He stops the 4-wheeler out in the yard away from the house and calls out, “Hello, Mr. Jimmy.”

  “Hey, James. Where is Pastor Eze
ll?”

  “He had other things to attend to today. I’ve brought your deer.”

  He sets the cooler down in front of me. I open it, inspecting its contents. There is a lot of ice. I find two deer hams, the tenderloin, backstrap, and nothing else. He also sets a plastic grocery bag with several cans of vegetables and another full of fresh greens next to the cooler.

  “Just as the good reverend promised,” James says with a broad smile. “I hear you may be moving into our community.”

  “We’re thinking about it.”

  “What’s worrying you the most, Mr. Jimmy? Food? Security? Or living with black folks?”

  His remark ruffles my feathers. I hold my temper and don’t respond.

  “Oh, I can understand your feelings. If I had a daughter as pretty as yours, I’d think long and hard before I’d move my family amongst those folks in that trailer park.”

  “You know, James, you aren’t very reassuring.”

  “Just being real, Mr. Jimmy. Why do you want to leave this place? Look at it. It’s got to be better than that trailer park.”

  I look at our house, studying the structure, its strengths and weaknesses. He’s right. Why would I leave this place?

  “I know y’all had a little run in with the Hiltons. I was one of the guys that came over while you were gone.” He shakes his head. “That Carter boy is something else. I doubt you’ll have any more trouble from those folks.”

  The wheels are turning in my head. We haven’t had any trouble since that day. Maybe Will’s actions put an end to the whole thing.

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  “I sit here wondering what would make a man abandon such a beautiful place. If it’s not security, it must be lack of food. Are you running out of food already?”

  Already? What is he implying? Does he think I was derelict in my responsibilities toward my family?

  “I think we’re all running low on food,” I respond.

  “Some folks are running out. You know, the ones with no initiative. I don’t understand a man of your means becoming so desperate to leave this place and move into a beat-up trailer.”

  “What is it you want?” I blurt out, losing my temper.

  “Now, Mr. Jimmy, don’t be getting riled up. I’m only stating the obvious. I’m sure a smart man like yourself will figure out how the new economy is going to work. You are pretty smart, aren’t you, Mr. Jimmy?”

  “What are you getting at, James? Stop beating around the bush.”

  “This new economy is going to be based on barter. All the money you’ve made through the years that you put in banks and stocks and trucks and cars ain’t worth nothing anymore. You know I’m right.”

  I hang my head. He is right. It’s not worth a damn thing.

  “There is plenty of food and other things to be had if you have something to trade for it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What I mean, Mr. Jimmy, is if you have things to trade, you can get food or other things you might need. You just got to know what things have value. You can get whatever it is you need from me or through me. There is no reason to starve. No reason for you to move. That is, if you have something to trade.”

  “You can provide food? How?”

  “If you have something to trade, I can. Don’t worry about the how.”

  “I’m not sure I have anything to trade.”

  “Think, Mr. Jimmy. What might be of value right now? Not yesterday, not in another week, but right now. What is going to have value? Gold and silver coins. Guns, ammo, optics, bows and arrows—anything gun and archery related. Whiskey, beer, wine—anything with alcohol. The brand won’t matter, except you’ll get more for the really good stuff. Medical supplies and medicines, drugs, legal and illegal. Cigarettes, cigars, tobacco, and yes, weed. Gas and diesel are worth more than anything else.”

  He pauses and looks directly at me. “And women.”

  What is this bastard saying? My anger starts burning inside.

  “Now, Mr. Jimmy, don’t be getting riled up. I’m not talking about your wife and daughter. I’m just telling you the things that have value. These things have value right now. They might not tomorrow, but right now, today, they do. With those things, you can get other things, including food. Of course, if you’re mean enough and tough enough, you can get all those things by taking them.”

  “What does Pastor Ezell say about all of this?”

  A stern and menacing expression appears on his face in an instant, and it scares me. “Jimmy, I’m talking about trade with you. Running your mouth will get you busted up. Reneging on a deal will get you busted up. Do you understand?”

  His threat is real, and my heart starts pumping faster. “Of course. I was only asking if he was in on the deals, that’s all.”

  “No. He’s not. You run your mouth to Pastor Ezell, to your wife, to Will, or to anybody else, and I promise you’ll regret the day you were born.”

  “No, I-I won’t. I p-promise,” I stutter. My insides are shaking like a leaf. I try to bring the tension down. “I may have some of those things. If I want to trade, how do I get in touch with you?”

  His expression changes to its old self. “If you have a radio, you can call on channel 14. Ask for me. Don’t say anything else. Or you can come to the checkpoint and ask for me.” He gets on the 4-wheeler and cranks it up. “Remember, Jimmy. Think and be smart.”

  After he drives off, I stand there still shaken by the encounter. I do have some of those things he talked about, though it’ll be like making a deal with the Devil himself. Then it dawns on me. It’s been nearly an hour since Amy went into Will’s room. Neither of them have come out. My fear subsides, and a smile crosses my face. We may be going to Repose.

  Chapter 19

  Will

  What Are You Doing Here?

  Day 8

  I take another deep breath. This old bed feels good. Much better than the makeshift places I’ve been sleeping on the past few days.

  Thank You, God, for another day. Please bless and protect my father and Mrs. Jill. Please protect Grandpa and Mrs. Barnes. Give me courage for this day. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

  The sheet is tugged and slips away, exposing my bare legs to the cool morning air. I open my eyes. There is somebody on the other side of the bed. I sit up with a start. It’s Amy! She’s wrapped in the sheet with her back turned toward me. What is she doing here? Quickly, I locate my pants and start putting them on. She rolls over and looks at me.

  “What are you doing?” she asks.

  Putting my second leg in, I pull my pants up. “Amy, what are you doing here?” I button the waistband and zip the zipper.

  “I came to wake you, but you looked so tired I let you sleep. Dad said it was okay.”

  “But what are you doing in this bed?”

  She sits up, the sheet falling to her waist. She’s in one of those nightshirts again. “I don’t know. I was tired too. So I just crawled in. Sorry.”

  “Amy, you can’t be doing this.”

  “Why? You don’t like what you see?”

  I avert my gaze, slip on my boots and shirt, then place my Glock in its IWB holster before heading for the door. Placing my hand on the doorknob, I pause. “Amy, you can’t be doing this anymore. I’m serious.”

  Opening the door, I head down the hall and pause at the entrance to the kitchen. Mrs. Wright is sitting at the table reading a magazine. She glances up with a smile.

  “Good morning, Will. Did you rest well? Would you like some oatmeal?”

  “Good morning, Mrs. Wright. I wouldn’t care for any breakfast right now, thank you. Where is Mr. Wright?”

  “He’s outside talking with Pastor Ezell. You can call me Lynn if you like.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Wright, that’s not how I was raised. Thank you just the same.”

  I step out the front door just in time to catch a glimpse of a 4-wheeler turning onto the paved road. Mr. Wright has a big smile on his face.

  “Go
od morning, Will. Hope you had a pleasant night. You look refreshed and ready for a new day.”

  There’s a tone of excitement in his voice I haven’t heard before.

  “Mr. Wright, please don’t send Amy to wake me up anymore.”

  “I’m sorry, Will. She was supposed to let you sleep if you looked too tired.”

  “She did, and I’ve just woken up. If you need me, you or Mrs. Wright can come get me. Don’t send Amy.”

  His smile fades. “All right, Will. If that’s what you want,” he says flatly.

  “Mr. Wright, I’m going to stay today and tomorrow to help you a little more. I’m heading home Sunday. If you want me to help you move into Pastor Ezell’s community, you need to make your decision by then.”

  “It seems like you’re a regular part of our family now. We’ll all hate to see you go. Especially Amy. Will, Amy is a really good girl. She’s got a lot of spirit. She would be good for you.”

  “Mr. Wright, Amy is a good person and a good friend, but I came here for Lizzy. When I leave Sunday, she’s going with me. If I can find a place for you in Repose, I’ll come back for all of you.”

  “Okay, Will, if you insist. I could go back into town and talk with Mrs. Barnes and see if that follows her wishes. She did want me to come and check on her tomorrow anyway.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Wright. I’ll see her Sunday morning.”

  He looks at me for a few moments, then says, “Okay. What about this deer?”

  He opens the ice chest and moves the ice around, showing me the portions inside. Everything is just as Pastor Ezell promised.

  “We can smoke whatever Mrs. Wright doesn’t want to cook today. If we don’t open the cooler much more, the ice might keep some of the meat good until tomorrow.”

  “All right, let’s take it inside and see what Lynn wants to do.”

  We set the bag of greens and the bag of canned vegetables on top of the cooler, and I help Mr. Wright carry it to the house.

  Chapter 20

  Lizzy

  Smokehouse

  Day 8

  I roll over in the bed. Amy isn’t there. That’s odd. I’m always awake before her. I was really tired, though. I get up and head for the bathroom. There is still enough water left in the big bucket for the toilet and in another pail to wash my face and brush my teeth.