A Tale of Two Preppers

by Susan Gregersen

  A Tale of Two Preppers

  by Susan Gregersen

  Copyright 2010

  All rights reserved

  Dedicated to my 'family' at www.preparedsociety.com/forum

  I appreciate your support and encouragement.

  Chapter 1

  Jeannie leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms over her head. Nope, that didn’t help, so she got up and paced around the apartment, bent over to touch her toes a few times, then ended up at the window. Eight floors below it was a much noisier world than where she stood. As she watched people walk both directions on the sidewalk, and occasionally duck across the street between cars, she could hear the faint sound of cars, horns, footsteps, and voices.

  Her eyes climbed up the building across the street and looked through the narrow slit between buildings at the rows of other buildings lined up clear out to the horizon. She wondered how far she’d have to walk to get beyond the last building. She wondered what it would be like to be out of the city, roaming around in the country; the kind of scenery she saw in the movies.

  Sighing, she returned to her desk and faced her computer. She worked for a publisher, editing books other people wrote. Someday, she was going to write a book too. She hadn’t had many adventures of her own yet, but read voraciously throughout her childhood and loved watching movies. She longed to go see places, especially the mountains. The ocean looked good, too! Any place that wasn’t this city sounded good!

  Time to do something else for a little while. She brought up an internet screen, which went to her homepage of yahoo. The news story at the top of the page usually had some non-essential nonsense story, such as who’s dress looked silly at an awards show, or which sports star made a bumbling move in a recent game, or other useless “news“. This time it was different and it caught her eye.

  “Well,” she muttered out loud to herself, “what’s this? Something not gossipy, and something not telling us the economy is getting better?” She leaned forward and read the headline again: “The Top Foods You Should Keep In Case Of An Emergency.”

  With a click of the mouse the story appeared on her screen. Her eyes skimmed over the story, slowing to read the list of food. She wrinkled her face and said “ewwww” at some of the food suggestions, then sat back in her chair with a furrowed brow.

  There was a click in the lock and the door opened. Her husband, Jeff, set a bag and a handful of mail on the lamp table next to the couch as he reached back and pushed the door shut.

  “Why the serious look?” he asked as he shrugged out of his coat. He carried the bag over to the kitchen counter and began setting out paper plates and cutlery.

  “Oh, this news article I just read. It talks about putting extra food in your pantry in case of an emergency. It even has a list of suggestions, but I think I could come up with a better list than that!” She stood up and went to see what was in the bag. He pushed the top shut with his hands.

  “No, no, no! It’s a surprise! Go sit down!” Jeff quickly dished up the food from small cardboard boxes that were in the bag, poured them each a glass of wine, and carried it all to the table. With a flourish, he said “Ta Da!”

  Jeannie opened her eyes and gazed at one of her favorite Chinese meals, complete with side dishes and chopsticks. He’d laid a fork by each plate, just in case, since he knew it tried her patience to eat some of these things with chopsticks.

  Jeff sat down and looked at her. “You don’t look very happy! I thought this was your favorite!”

  “It is,” she said with a sigh. “I was just thinking maybe we should learn how to cook some of this stuff ourselves. I don’t even remember how to cook much of the food my Mom taught me how to cook!”

  “Well, if you want to. I suppose we could get pans and whatever it is you need for cooking.” Jeff wanted, more than anything, for Jeannie to be happy. She picked up her chopsticks and smiled. The words ‘foods to keep for an emergency’ kept sounding in her head.

  The next day it was Jeannie’s turn to “cook”, which meant it was her turn to pick up something for dinner or arrange for delivery. Each morning they rode the elevator to the street level and had bagels and coffee in the little shop in the foyer. Some days they really mixed it up and had a donut or english muffin instead! Once Jeannie even got hot chocolate instead of coffee! She’d rather liked it, but, for some reason it had made Jeff uncomfortable, so she hadn’t ordered it again.

  Until today. And it wasn’t breakfast, it was lunch! Most days she skipped lunch, but today she rode the elevator to the foyer and went into the coffee shop. She ordered hot chocolate and a salad. The waitress asked her twice if that was what she wanted.

  It was sweltering hot outside but Jeannie hadn’t been outside since…well, not for a few days. She’d ordered delivery the last time it was her turn to get dinner. There was a gym in the building, and she went there for exercise. A small shop sold basic sundries and a few fashionable things such as scarves and purses.

  The last time she’d gone in there, it had been to buy a bottle of aspirin, and they didn’t have bottles any more, just packets containing two of the pain relievers. She’d bought two packets, one for now and one in case she had a headache when they weren’t open.

  Until today she’d thought that was pretty good planning. But now, that food-for-emergencies article was bringing back memories of her Mother buying things in big bottles and boxes. They’d never had to run out on the spur of the moment to buy things. And there had been food in the cupboard.

  She racked her brains trying to picture WHAT food her mother had kept in the cupboard. It was just a generic memory of boxes and cans at first, then slowly things started to materialize. She remembered crackers, both saltines and grahams. And this lovely hot apple cider mix that came in little packets in a box.

  Instead of returning to the apartment after eating she wandered out the door onto the sidewalk, lost in memories. The sounds and motion around her were as though they were on a different channel. People bumped into her and went on their way with hardly a glance. She found herself staring at her reflection in the glass windows of a deli. An idea grew in her mind and she opened the door and went in.

  A large man wearing an apron was wrapping meat for a lady standing at the counter. He laughed and said to her “well, that’s what people used to do with their refrigerators: keep FOOD in them, not just use them for wine coolers!” The woman who was waiting laughed with him.

  “Well, I’m glad I finally got the sense to start cooking again. It’s nice to open the fridge and see milk and eggs and even ketchup again!” She paid for her purchase and left the store. The man looked at Jeannie.

  “What can I get you, little lady?” he asked with a friendly smile.

  Jeannie hesitated. She looked at the selection of meats and cheeses behind the glass, recognizing some, but surprised there were so many kinds. “I thought we’d put together our own sandwiches instead of take-out, but I’m not sure how to go about it,” she said, deciding honesty was better than pretending she knew what she was doing. She hated the look of sympathy in his eyes, but looked steadily back at him.

  “A sandwich is a work of art! A great creation! It can be whatever you want it to be!” he said, getting into the spirit of it. For some reason it made him feel good that he was helping someone discover the adventure that was called “sandwich”! He asked more questions and guided her through picking out meat and cheese.

  Then he told her that a few stores over there was a shop that sold fresh veggies and fruit, and across the street was a bakery where she could get rolls. He scratched his head when she asked about mayonnaise and other condiments.

  “Maybe one of those other shops sell them, or will know where you can get
them.”

  She left the shop and went to the others he suggested. No one knew where she could buy condiments within walking distance, but one of them had a bunch of mayo packets from a carry-out sandwich. She gave them to Jeannie with a shrug. Jeannie thanked her and headed back to the apartment.

  When Jeff got home she presented him with the sandwich makings all spread out on the counter. He was mildly upset.

  “But Jeannie, I’m tired when I get home from work, I don’t want to have to put my food together. That’s like cheating anyway. Today is YOUR dinner day.”

  “I’m sorry, Jeff. Here, sit down and sip your wine, it’ll only take me a few minutes to throw the sandwiches together.” She sheepishly spread mayo on the buns and tossed the other ingredients on and carried the plates to the table.

  “No chips?” he asked. “At least when we order the sandwiches they put bags of chips in with them.”

  Then he felt bad about chiding her so. “It’s all right, though, I’m really not in the mood for chips. And these sandwiches are delicious. Actually they are better than the ones we usually buy!”

  They went down to the gym and worked out together, jogging side-by-side on treadmills, watching a TV with captions that endlessly scrolled news headlines. Political disagreements and economic downturns and international turmoil, as well as a scattering of floods, mudslides, wildfires, drought, and yet another hurricane heading toward the gulf coast.

  A commercial filled the screen. A woman was cooking a meal while laughing and talking to children and a man Jeannie presumed was supposed to be her husband. The food in one of the pans started smoking and the actress grabbed the pan with a look of dismay. Then she was smiling while washing the pan with a special cleaner for “really burned on” food. Jeannie couldn’t remember the last time she’d washed dishes. They had dishes but usually ate on disposables. Rinsing out wine glasses was about as close at it came.

  She squashed down the uneasy feeling in her stomach and smiled at Jeff. He grinned back and they upped their pace in competition until they were breathless and laughing. Jeannie forced the food thing from her mind.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The next morning after Jeff kissed her good-bye in the coffee shop Jeannie went back up to their apartment. She sat down at the computer to work and immediately found her mind drifting back to yesterday’s news story.

  She looked over the news headlines and didn’t see anything other than the usual mess the world was always dealing with. At least, that’s what she thought until she looked closer at the headlines. Hmmm. Same kind of gloomy stuff but she couldn’t remember seeing so much at one time.

  “No!” she told herself firmly and clicked off the news page and checked in with her boss.

  Several blocks away, Jeff got off the bus, wound his way around a woman kneeling in front of a child in a stroller, dodged between two people pushing bicycles, and into the building he worked in.

  He rode the elevator to the 46th floor, nodded “hi” to a handful of people on the way to his office, and flung himself in his chair. For the next few hours he tried to focus on the work before him, but it just wasn’t going well.

  He couldn’t find the answers he needed, and to make it worse, he kept thinking of Jeannie. She’d been distracted this morning, and had again mentioned the food thing.

  He wondered if she was getting some kind of restlessness, like midlife crisis, but she was too young for that. Maybe she was getting bored. Maybe they should go on one of the many trips they always talked about taking but never could pull themselves away enough to actually go.

  “Oh, NO!” he said out loud as yet another thought came to him! Maybe she was getting maternal feelings and was going to start pushing him again about starting a family! He wanted kids but he was terrified about what that would mean for them.

  He grew up in the suburbs, with a big, grassy yard to play in, and a sandbox, and quiet streets to ride his bike on with his friends. Jeannie had grown up an only child in a high-rise apartment with older, quiet parents. She’d buried herself in the fantasy of books and movies as her lifeline in what she felt was a stifled childhood.

  They’d agreed that they should have more than one child, when they did have kids, and that they’d move to the suburbs.

  Jeff was finally getting established in the company and he wasn’t happy about the thought of moving and all the changes children would bring. Maybe he could put her off again.

  He ran his hands through his hair, rapped his knuckles on his desk, and got up to go get a cup of coffee.

  The coffee maker in the lounge was just finishing up making a pot of coffee. Jeff stood, cup in hand, waiting and lost in thought.

  “PRECIOUS METALS!” Jeff jumped at the words and looked around. Two of his co-workers had come in for coffee and stood behind him.

  “Bosh! I think barter goods are a better investment!” the other one said.

  “No, first you should get gold and silver in small coins. The small coins so you don’t have a situation where someone says they can’t make change, but you need what they have anyway. THEN you get the barter stuff. All of this is assuming you have your other supplies already,” the first man said.

  The coffee was done now. Jeff poured himself a cup and handed the pot to the men. They said the usual “Hi, how’s it going” politenesses, then went back to their conversation. Jeff drifted over by the couches and looked out the window, presenting a casual, non-interested appearance while he listened.

  “Don’t you think smokes, booze, and ammo will hold a high barter value?” asked the second man.

  “Sure I do, but hold up a minute, you want to be careful parting with ammo. It could end up used against you, and…” the voices faded as the men left the room and headed down the hall.

  Jeff continued to look out the window for a while. Now his mind was really reeling. It stunned him to know that people who worked in his building were thinking about things like that. Gold and silver? Barter? What did these people think they’d need that for?

  Did they really think something bad was going to happen? These were business professionals! People who hoard gold and silver and ammo were survivalist crazies, weren’t they? They dressed in army clothes and lived in underground, fortified homes and practiced military drills, didn’t they?

  They didn’t wear Armani suits and Rolex watches and eat at restaurants that had a waiting list just for reservations! They didn’t get on planes and travel to meetings and conventions and sit next to Jeff while making big presentations and know all the right etiquette!

  It was hopeless to think about the work before him on his desk. He told his secretary he was going for an early lunch and headed to the street. He walked quickly, as though he had a destination, not knowing where he was going and not really hungry, either.

  A light turned red and the “don’t walk” sign lit up. While he was waiting for the light to turn he realized he was staring at a sign that read “Gold! Silver! Jewelry! Collectibles!” In a daze he walked over and opened the door.

  Glass cases held coins, mostly. Toward the back some of the cases contained jewelry. A man with reading glasses parked on top of the visor on his head walked along behind the counter.

  “Are you a coin collector?” The man asked with a smile. “We just got in some new pieces, really rare.”

  Jeff wondered how to answer. “Well…” he stalled, and pretended interest in a certain coin that caught his eye. “I might be. I mean, I might start.”

  The man started talking about different suggestions for beginner coin collectors. To Jeff it sounded like he was talking in another room or even in another language. He let his eyes continue to roam over the coins while the man talked.

  “Are these what are called ‘precious metals’?” he asked, then grimaced inside when he realized he’d interrupted the man.

  Now the man raised his eyebrows and studied Jeff.

  “Thinking about the future, eh? Maybe getting a little security put away? Prices ar
e high right now, not the best time to do that, but…” he sighed. “Better now than never though.”