by Tate, Glen
Grant looked at Cole. He was the sweetest boy in the world. But he couldn’t talk too much or understand people. Oh, God. What will happen to Cole when all of this hits? Grant was dealing head-on with the collapse of the United States. That didn’t scare him too much since he had prepared. He was calmly planning on it. But the thought of Cole by himself in a very dangerous world terrified him.
Chapter 42
Lawyers, Guns and Money
The worse things got, the more Grant prepped. It was an emotional crutch. Yes, Grant admitted, it was an emotional crutch. After his conversation with the police about how they are going along with legalized theft, he found comfort in building up his food storage and self-defense capabilities. If that’s an “emotional crutch” then Grant was proud to be guilty of it. Prepping sure beat the other form of dealing with the situation, which was the form most people were using: pretending nothing was wrong.
Most people, even his conservative WAB friends, were trying to convince themselves that things were going to be OK. Tom did not talk about it much. In fact, he avoided the topic altogether.
During one conversation, Grant was making the point with Tom that things were getting worse. They were in Tom’s car and the Warren Zevon song “Lawyers Guns and Money” came on, which is about a guy getting out of various jams with lawyers, guns, and money.
Grant tried to make the point to Tom about things getting worse by saying, “You know, at first we tried using money to make donations and elect good people. Didn’t work. Now we need lawyers to fend off things like the CFC charges and the IRS. That may not work. I think it’ll take guns, next.”
Tom was silent. It appeared that he either didn’t understand or didn’t want to hear it. Grant had no idea why Tom wasn’t reacting. It was weird because Tom was such a fighter but he couldn’t conceive of the likelihood this fight going beyond the political realm. Even a fighter like Tom had normalcy bias. Tom changed the subject for the rest of the ride.
Brian was in outright denial. He would talk to Grant about how bad things were getting and then say, “This is no time to overreact. Things always seem worse than they usually are.” It was like he was trying to convince himself into believing it. Grant worried about how Brian would react when the shit hit the fan.
Ben was handling it better. He realized that things were not normal. He seemed to understand that something big was developing, and he would be a part of it. He and Grant talked about it one day.
“Hey, Grant, you own some guns,” Ben said. “Are you freaked out about what’s happening?”
“Yes.” That’s about all Grant would say. He fully planned on including Ben, Brian, Tom, and their families in his survival plans, but now was not the time to chitchat about it.
“I can tell something is coming,” Ben said. “Something bad. Guys like you and I will be the first to be rounded up,” he said with a half-smile. But he was also half serious. “I can’t bring myself to start stockpiling food and getting a gas mask.” He said that last part with another smile. The WAB guys, while they didn’t know the full extent of Grant’s preps, figured Grant might be preparing and often teased him about being a “survivalist” and running around in a gas mask.
Ben paused and looked at Grant in the eye. “I think I’ll be OK even when things get crazy. I don’t know why, I just do.” Ben seemed genuine; he wasn’t just convincing himself of something to believe like Brian was.
“Let’s hope so, my brother,” Grant said. Maybe Ben was prepping, too, and didn’t want to tell Grant. There was something about what he was saying that convinced Grant that Ben would, indeed, be OK.
We’ll see, Grant thought. We’ll see.
Grant’s refuge from all this stress and worrying was the cabin. Everything was calm there. It was quiet. It was beautiful. Every time he went out there, he was on vacation. Even if it was for an hour in the middle of the day. It was a vacation from the world.
Grant loved the smell of the cabin. It smelled like fresh Christmas trees and the ocean, which made sense because it was surrounded by evergreen trees and the ocean. Just smelling the cabin calmed Grant and relaxed him to the point that it was almost impossible to get mad.
Lisa wondered sometimes why Grant was in such a good mood around the house. What she didn’t know is that earlier that day he had run out to the cabin for a short time. He wouldn’t tell her.
Lisa was still rather cold toward the cabin; it was “his thing,” not hers. The maintenance and utilities were costing a fair amount of money. Regardless, it seemed like she had just decided that she wouldn’t like the place. She didn’t hate it and didn’t try to stop Grant from going there; she just didn’t like it. Grant didn’t know why. He thought that perhaps it was because his worthless parents, both of whom Lisa really disliked, had just handed him something. She also knew that Grant loved the cabin more than anything else except her and the kids. She was competing with a building out in Hickville. She was a beautiful doctor; why couldn’t that be good enough for him? Why did he need a stupid old cabin to feel great? He had her. Wasn’t that enough?
When he was out there for more than a little while, he would drop by the Colsons and Morrells and visit. Strengthening his relationship with these neighbors was as important as any other prep; maybe more so. He would explore the woods around the beach, and looked for sources of water and defensible terrain. He just watched the wildlife. There were amazing birds out there. There were harbor seals in the inlet and fish jumping. Fox roamed around the area. Eagles flew by, sometimes grabbing a fish out of the water. It was amazing.
It was now spring, and everything was blooming. There was something terribly dreary about a winter of cloudiness and rain in Washington State. Residents of Washington must endure rain from about Thanksgiving to St. Patrick’s Day. However, when it stops raining and the sun comes out, the place is glorious.
Grant looked around the cabin, which was surrounded by spring blooms. He kept thinking that this spring was going to be the beginning of something more than just a growing season for plants.
He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it felt like the beginning of something big. Then, when he was down on the beach just looking at the water, the outside thought said something jarring.
It will be big. Keep preparing. You don’t have enough.
Grant heard that loud and clear.
He would step up his Costco food runs. Whenever he went to Costco alone for weekend errands, he would “accidently” put some oatmeal packets, pancake mix, or other bulk foods in the cart. He would put these items in the trunk of his Tacura for the weekly run out to the cabin. Lisa never looked in his trunk. When he had enough items out in the shed from the recent runs, he would vacuum seal them. His six month food supply had slowly grown to about eight months. His shed was getting filled up. Good.
