No Normal Day

by Richardson, J.

  “Um-m, a Dr Pepper, some chips and a Snicker,” said the kid.

  “You get all that? Make it four bottles water,” Jack barked at the clerk. The guy frowned but he went around and gathered up stuff, asked once or twice, “What did you say?” The aggravated man unlocked, opened the door a crack and said, “That'll be fifteen bucks”. Jack slid a twenty in, took the supplies and said thanks.

  He put everything but the cheese crackers and a water in his bag, gave the kid his snacks. He looked at his watch, it was after 12:00. “Boy, I've got to get on the move. I figure I am at least 12 to 14 miles from home and it will take me till after dark to get there.” Jack reached out to shake the kid's hand.

  Cody sipped the still cool soda and said, “If you don't mind, I'll just walk along with you. I stay with my uncle and he lives just a mile or so out of town, on this highway.”

  Jack was not exactly sold on the company of a stranger, there was really no time to argue. He grabbed hold of the caddy, thank goodness he had on his tennis shoes. As the Spring day stretched out, it might be a little chilly for his denim shorts. Most likely, if he held up to 12 miles of walking, cool would be the least of his complaints. Cody fell in beside him, he balanced the soda and ate from the bag of chips. They had reached the edge of the highway when a rusty old truck came weaving it's way between the frozen vehicles on the highway. It rumbled along, to the amazement of all that still stood around. The bent up bed was stacked with bags of some kind of feed or fertilizer and a dog with startling blue eyes balanced on top of them. The elderly man driver in the well worn cowboy hat, had his windows rolled up and ignored the existence of everyone. A guy ran up behind the truck and attempted to jump up in the back. A snarling, snapping furry mouth put an end to that attempt and the truck weaved it's way forward. Jack had to smile, he had a notion that this was going to get interesting.

  ***

  Beth dropped the peek hole shut and got up out of the chair. She said outloud to herself, “Okay old girl, this is not helping one bit.” Then thought, Looking out the window for hours is just not going to make Jack get home sooner. Whatever is going on, nobody really has a handle on it yet. Things are not that intense on the streets yet. It is still hours before dark. Jack's goal will be to get home. Even though they were neither one what you would call “spring chickens” and even though he experienced health problems in the past years, she really trusted in his strength. When they met way back in high school, he was very athletic. His career choice, fire department, had given him emergency and quick response training. Jack kept calm and reacted quickly to crisis situations.

  She pondered whether he would go to the home of some long time friends that lived on the lake. They, like many of their friends, were not fanatical doomsday preppers. However, they all came from a time when if not so much your parents but your grand-parents believed in being prepared for hard times. Those lessons seemed to stick. Have some extra food on the shelf, take care of what you have worked hard to earn, keep things in repair and learn to fix them yourself, have some cash hid away. Oh, they all lived neck deep in the prosperous modern world, cell phones, big tv's, nice cars, comfortable homes, dinners out and vacations. Still, they had been around long enough with the echos of long gone ancestors whispering caution in their ears, to believe that all was fragile. A sharp, tap-tap-tap at the window made Beth jump and she immediately reached for the revolver on the table.

  “Jack...Beth, are you there?”

  Beth, exhaled. It was Joel, a friend that used to work with Jack. He lived about a half mile behind them, if you cut straight through the woods that backed up to the addition. “Go to the front door, Joel”. Beth opened the locks, let Joel in and locked back up behind him. They had always laughed and called Joel, old gloom and doom. He had a bit of a negative attitude but he was a good guy and extremely intelligent.

  He gave her a brief hug, “Well, it's really hit the fan, hasn't it, girl?” Before she could answer, he said, “Where's Jack?”.

  Beth explained. Joel shrugged, “Jack'll be fine, he's on his way home right now, you can bet. What about you, you okay?”.

  She sent him a smile, “Yeah, I am holding up, just need to keep busy. I am thinking of dragging out our old propane fish cooker and putting it on the back porch. I am not sure that I remember how to hook up the bottle. Will you help me do that?”

  Joel followed her out to the storage building near the back fence. The cooker sat in the corner. Made of steel, it was one big burner standing about three foot tall on three sturdy legs. A greasy old cast iron pot was wrapped in a grocery bag, it sat on top. Beth grabbed the deep pot and Joel toted the cooker to the back porch and placed it next to the Bar-b-que grill. Instead of disconnecting the propane grill, Beth walked into Jack's large shop and found another propane bottle. Joel hooked up the bottle and she paid attention. He located a click lighter from beside the grill and tried the cooker. The flame sh-wooshed up. “Alright, you're in business now,” he said.

  She followed Joel back through the house to the front door. He reached in his pocket and handed her a small two way radio, “You keep this and try to let me know when Jack is here.”

  “That reminds me, Jack has a pair of those somewhere in his hunting gear. I'll have to try and find them,” she said.

  “Well, keep this one for now, I have a couple of more,” said Joel. She walked out behind him. They stood on the front walk and looked around the neighborhood. “Listen, Beth, things look pretty calm around here right now and that's probably going to hold for a few days. But, you lock up and stay right near the house. It might take Jack longer than you think to make it home. Use the radio to reach me, if you need me. I am headed back to Sandy and the dogs, for now”.

  She watched as Joel moved with a slight jog back towards the distant woods. Back in the house, she secured the doors again. All the digital read outs were black. The battery clock in the kitchen tick- tocked away, still not late, nearly three hours before dark. Jack had been gone over 6 hours now.

  The pork chops that she planned to cook for dinner were on the cabinet, thawed out now. Out of habit, Beth opened the refrigerator to put them away. No light, of course. Wonder how long the freezer will keep...a day or two? She decided that if she was going to cook she would take out some ground hamburger and cook it up, too. I'll worry about the rest of the freezer stuff later. She took out a pound of ground meat and then decided on a second pound. Don't need to stand here with the fridge open, ninny, she scolded herself. The meat was still firm but she could cook it slow on the burner and cook the pork chops on the grill. Maybe put some veggies in and make soup or some chili with beans. Not much matter, the refrigerator would not be cool for long and then all the food would have to be trashed, it was a sickening thought. Somewhere in the back of her troubled mind she seemed to remember reading that if you dig down in the ground deep enough, the temperature stayed a constant cool. There was a notebook in her storage closet that she had made notes, printed out tidbits of information, cut out articles, etc. She would go through that later and see if she kept that info. One good thing, the soil in this back yard was very soft and sandy, easy to dig in.

  Out in the original garage attached to the house her fairly new SUV crouched, not even that ever present light on the dash was flashing. There was a window on the street side of this garage, flowering hedges grew up about halfway outside, covered most of the window. Shelves with various and assorted junk sat in front of the window. She reached through the shelves and checked to be sure the window was locked. Two oil lanterns and some candles sat on the shelves, she thought better take those in and get ready for the night, the dark that was going to be heavier than any she had ever known. Jack forbade the burning of candles in the house, too many bad scenes that he had experienced. She would have to be very careful but candles were going to be needed. The folding table from the corner would be handy, she toted it inside the house and returned for the lighting. Was anything else going to be useful? she took a box and put th
e lanterns and candles in, once the box was inside she locked the door to the garage behind her. As an afterthought, she moved a stool in front of the door.

  After some plates were found to put the candles on, she placed one lantern in the kitchen and one in bedroom. In the living area and bathroom and the storage closet off of the office, more candles were placed, with matches or lighters by all of them. In the bathroom she remembered that she needed to bring bottles of water in from the storage building. Since the division was originally rural they have a septic system, as long as they have some water, the toilets should flush. Earlier, she had turned on the faucet and there was barely a trickle. The power did go out on occasion, due to winds or storms or even rarely an ice storm that takes down lines. She didn't remember the water ever being off.

  The storage building had already become a bit dim as the late afternoon shade was closed in. They had never bothered to install lights in the building, so it was not unusual to only have the light from the open door and a couple of small side windows. Beth let her eyes focus. Down one side, dozens of cola bottles and bourbon bottles filled with water lined up. She took about ten bottles, placed them in the garden cart. Out of the corner of her eye there was a movement. She scuttled backwards, tripped over a dropped bottle. The bottle just rolled up her back and away, she landed flat on her behind. She absolutely despised anything in the rodent family and freaked out if she was anywhere near one. A flash of fur dashed over her outstretched hand and she squealed and kicked her feet like a pig under a gate. Quicker than she dreamed her plump body could move, she was up and saw a cat flying over the fence. “Damn cat!” They loved to camp out under the storage building. She refused to feed them but someone in the neighborhood sure was, probably Jack, behind her back. At least, they did keep the rodents away. Her heart still raced as she rolled the cart up to the back door. Work would always get your mind off your problem, so she was certainly distracted.

  Another hour had passed and she needed to get to the cooking. She moved the bottles of water into the kitchen and bathroom, she unfolded the table and started to gather the things for preparing the food. Thank goodness, there was a soft breeze and the evening would bring coolness. These days were numbered, the blazing heat would soon hang heavy, even the covered concrete patio would not be immune to it. It had now been nearly 8 hours since Jack left and the dark was less than two hours away. She lit the propane cooker, sat the pot with the hamburger on, covered it with a lid and adjusted the flame to low. The grill was fired up, she put the pork chops on, sprinkled them with salt and pepper. She recalled how her grandmother always said, “Don't put all your eggs in one basket, little missy”. That basket, that Jack basket, the one she had always put her hopes and dreams and faith in, she wasn't near ready to let go of. The pork chops made a sizzling sound and she flipped them over. Jack would be hungry when he got home.

  ***

  It was too soon for Jack to worry about Beth or let any thoughts of “the girls” enter his head. Beth had no plans to go out, so she was home and he would be there before this day was over and they would make plans. He never thought that he would wish for that infernal cell phone but he sure wished he could give her a call. The cart trailed along behind him and he quickly figured out that there were a few less vehicles over on the shoulder of the road. Cody kept up easily, the not-so-young man with the cart and the skinny young man moved along the side of the highway that looked like a long salvage yard. The haphazard collection of vehicles did not lessen as the two moved along, not that Jack had expected it to. He, of course, didn't know how widespread this “incident” was but it was not isolated or contained. A few people still sat in their cars. Jack said, more to himself than the kid, “what the heck do they think is going to happen, why are they just sitting there expecting some kind of miracle or magic to save them?” Cody kept up a steady stream of conversation, at least it irritated Jack enough to keep him from dwelling on his situation.

  “You got kids, Jack?”

  “Yeah, three daughters, two son-in-laws, a slew of grand kids and one great grandson,” Jack replied.

  “Wow, you don't look that old,” said the kid.

  “Thanks,” Jack frowned and spit some tobacco out to the side.

  Cody said, “All those kids live here, close to you?”

  “Nah. The youngest, her hubby and two little ones, live about 100 miles north of here. The middle daughter's husband is in the army and they live about 200 miles south, near the military base. They have 5 kids between them, mostly grown and out of the house. Her daughter has my great grand-son. My oldest daughter is a widow and she has a couple of kids and lives on the other side of town.

  “I never really knew my father, took off when I was little,” said Cody, “It was just Mom and I. Last year, my uncle Lee came back here. He got hurt pretty bad in Afghanistan, so he is out of the Marines now. We always got along so he asked me to live with him. He only gets his disability pay and I have been trying to get a job. I applied for a grant, want to go to the Jr. College.” He continued on, telling Jack about what he wanted to do, some computer crap that the older man didn't quite get. Jack thought that he talked like a pretty smart kid, though.

  They had walked for about three hours, Jack figured more than six miles. He was not doing so bad, his hips felt pretty tight and his feet hot but he was making it. There was still a long way to go, Cody traded out with him and pulled the caddy. As the afternoon stretched out, he noticed that a lot fewer people just stood around or sat in their cars. He didn't particularly like the looks of some of the people that were around. One guy, pulled on a door handle and cupped his hands around his eyes to see inside. Damn certain that's not his car, Jack thought, but I just don't have time to go there. He looked up ahead and two young men were walking towards them, one with dark skin, one with light. They looked pretty scraggly, their pants hung a little low and one had a cap turned backwards. Jack never had understood the purpose of falling off britches and a cap that was making shade on the back of your head. An over abundance of tattoos and piercings decorated their bodies.

  One of the men smiled, “Well, where are you two headed?”.

  Jack didn't slow down and said, “Just into town”.

  The darker of the two turned and fell in beside Jack and the other one dropped a little behind. “What'cha got in the bag, old man?”

  “Not your concern,” said Jack. He moved his hand to the case on his belt. Cody pulled the cart and looked very nervous. Jack turned and gave him a wink. He noticed the guy that had been checking out the car, leaned on the top and watched. The man that had fell back said, “Damn, must be something good in that bag”. Jack stopped now, these slimes were not just going to walk on.

  Cody stood still beside him, his voice was not that steady but he said, “Dude, why don't you guys just go on where you are headed, we don't have anything but some water and a Snicker's.”

  The man beside the bag, stepped up and pulled out a short bladed knife. Jack smoothly pulled the 380 from the case and looked right at the grubby face, “Sorry, dude, bullet trumps blade” and he raised the automatic. The guy slashed at Jack's forearm and he lowered the gun and shot, hit the guy in the foot. The man fell to the ground, “The crazy ole som-bitch shot me! Ow-w-w”. The partner backed up and Cody backed up, he moved in the direction that he and Jack had been headed. Jack picked up the knife that the injured guy dropped and flung it as far as he could, out into the high weeds beside the road. The man that was by the locked car had taken off running. Jack, the gun still in hand, walked backwards for a bit. The injured guy howled and held his foot, the other guy was trying to calm him down. Jack felt the caddy at his heel. He said, “Go Cody, MOVE!” He turned and the two of them, in not quite a run but moving fast, put some distance between them and the two guys.

  About fifteen minutes down the highway, with no sign of the attackers behind them they stopped under a shade tree near the shoulder. They had moved over a rise and around a curve, Jack didn't thin
k the idiots were following them. He had to stop and rest for a bit, blood trails striped down his arm but it looked like it had nearly stopped bleeding. Now his feet really ached and his hips were beyond cramped. Cody had not spoke a word and he looked pretty pale, he still had a death grip on the caddy.

  Jack looked him in the face, “Cody, sit down and look in the bag. There's a package of those nasty wipe things in there.” The kid dropped down on the ground and dug the antiseptic wipes out of the bag and a bottle of water, handed it to Jack. Jack took a deep drink, dribbled some water down his arm and handed the bottle to Cody. He started to clean the cut with the wipe, at least it probably had some kind of soap in it. There wasn't anything to wrap it but somewhere in that bag was a tube of neosporin...Beth bought that stuff by the gallon and they both called it magic elixir.

  Cody gave a not so sincere laugh, “Mister, that really scared me”.

  Jack was tired and he hurt, he dropped his head back against the tree trunk and laughed hard, tears squeezed out of his eyes. “Me too, son. Those guys were trouble. You did good. Get that candy out and I will share with you. Let's get moving”. He gulped down a couple of his headache pills with a swig of warm water and they started back along the road. At least, that little episode has moved us a little further than we probably would be. In two more hours or so they would be in the edge of town, maybe close to where Cody needed to go.

  Cody insisted that he pull the caddy. Jack knew it wasn't really all that easy, he had drug that cart over many a miles of golf greens, loaded with clubs. His arm throbbed, a little better though since the pills kicked in. The boy was young, he let him pull. After a little over two hours, Cody said, “Over there, Jack, that's my uncle's house.” A small frame house sat back off the highway. On the front porch, a man leaned against the post, a cigarette in his cupped hand. Jack could see he was wearing camo pants and boots. The man squinted at the two of them, Cody yelled, “Lee!”. The man threw down the cigarette, mashed it out with his boot, ran out and grabbed the kid in a bear hug. “Dam-mit, you goof, I was worried sick about you.”