by A. American
But before any of that could become an issue, there was the plant itself and its fuel, natural gas. Cecil said gas was still flowing in places; this was a huge surprise to me, as I thought it was all out. But then I didn’t have any gas at my place, so I wouldn’t really know if it were out or not. Cecil said he could show us; and I was certainly curious to see that.
At the barricade of cars, we rolled through without stopping, the old Suburban now recognized by all the troops. Eustis seemed to be hustling and bustling. Along the shore of the lake, Cecil had already begun the tilling, and several people were out in the broken soil with hand tools. I saw Cecil standing with Livingston and several Guardsmen. He had a large paper in his hand and was motioning to different points along the lakefront. I parked the truck on the road, and we walked over.
“Somebody order a disc?” I called out as we approached.
Cecil turned and smiled, “I sure did; you’re just in time.”
We made pleasantries for a few minutes, talking about the work on the lakefront and the state of things in general. When Cecil excused himself to go get the tractor, Livingston said he needed me at the HQ. Aric and Danny said they’d handle unloading the disc, and I followed Livingston towards the armory.
“What’s up?” I asked as we crossed Bay Street.
“Got some civilian law enforcement issues for you to deal with.”
I rolled my eyes. “What is it?” I asked, the irritation clear in my voice.
Livingston kind of laughed, “We’ve got a couple of guys that were caught stealing chickens.”
“You gotta be shittin’ me. Why is it always chickens? Everyone steals chickens.”
“The owner caught them in his coop and brought them to us. They fessed up; said they were hungry.”
“Yeah, no shit, who isn’t?”
“Well Sheriff, they’re your problem now,” Livingston said with a smile.
Inside the armory, I found the two men being guarded by a couple of soldiers. They looked like what you’d expect a chicken thief to look like, dirty threadbare clothes, long hair and unkempt beards. One of them was a character straight out of a Mark Twain book. Wearing overalls and no shirt, he sat barefoot on the floor. When I walked up, they looked up at me.
“You the Sheriff?” The one in overalls asked.
“Sadly, I am. Why’d you steal the chickens?”
“We didn’t steal anything,” the other replied.
The one in overalls looked sideways at his partner, “Cause we got caught before we could get gone.”
I laughed, “At least you’re honest.”
Sheffield walked up, “Well, what’s it going to be?”
“Yeah Sheriff, you sending us off to the big house?” The one in overalls asked.
Taking off my hat, I scratched my head. “Hell, I don’t know. They tried to steal and admitted it; but it was only chickens, so I don’t know what to do with them.”
“Well, according to other people around here, it isn’t their first time,” Sheffield replied.
“First time gettin’ caught,” the barefoot chicken thief added.
Here was a true conundrum, these two were guilty for certain; they admitted it. But what to do with them? It surely wasn’t a capital crime; but at the same time, some sort of punishment was merited. Then I had an idea.
“Shaming.”
Sheffield looked at me, “Say what?”
“Public shaming; it was used a couple hundred years ago for just this sort of thing. Take them to the flag pole in front of the concert shell in the park. Cuff ‘em up to it and hang a sign around their necks with their names and the fact they’re chicken thieves. They can spend two days there.”
The man in the overalls didn’t like what he was hearing, “Do what? You can’t do that to us!”
I laughed, “What’d you expect? You know there’s no jail; it’s not like we’re going to hang you for chicken thieving. This will do; but if you get caught again you probably won’t like what I come up with next.”
“Works for me,” Sheffield said. He ordered the two soldiers guarding them to see to it.
As the two men were being led away, I asked Sheffield if there were anything else.
“No, that’s it for now.”
“Good, I got shit to do. I’ll see you guys later.” I replied as I headed for the door.
By the time I got back to the truck, the disc was already hooked up to Cecil’s tractor. Cecil was in the seat steering the machine along the edge of the lake. After covering only a short piece, he stopped. Danny ran out to him with a cinder block and placed it on the disc. Once again Cecil drove along the lake, and he looked up at Danny and nodded. They’d found the appropriate weight needed to get the disc down deep enough to break the ground.
“That one big enough for you?” I asked.
Cecil smiled, “It’s fine, just fine.” I looked at Cecil, “You said the gas was still on in places?”
Cecil nodded, “It is; there’s a gas line just outside of town. I was out there not long ago and smelled gas. I thought that was kinda odd; you know things having been down so long. So I went over to the pipe and put my hand on it; I could feel the flow of the gas.”
“Can you show us?” Danny asked.
Cecil nodded, “Sure.”
“Hop in; let’s go have a look,” I said as I started around the truck.
Cecil got up front and Danny and Aric hopped in the back. Cecil said the line was over near David Walker Road, so I headed south on 19. I hadn’t been through this part of town since the trip to the Sheriff’s office. It looked much like it did then. There were few people around, and weeds were choking the sidewalks and parking lots. They were even forcing their way up through cracks in the road where the concrete gutter met the pavement. With no traffic to pound them down, they were reclaiming every place they could.
I turned onto Orange Ave and drove around behind the high school. There were several houses in the area, and a few of them had small gardens planted in their yards. One house in particular I remembered as always having collard greens planted in the old days. The stalks of those plants were nearly six feet tall then. They were still there, still being tended. I don’t know who lived there, but they were taking care of their garden. At David Walker, I swung right. Cecil told me to pull up to a gate on the right not far from the intersection.
I stopped at the gate and we got out, following Cecil through the fence. A large pipe came out of the ground at an angle, and traveled several feet before it dove into the earth again. There were several devices mounted to the pipe, pressure regulators I would assume. Cecil walked up to the pipe and put his hand on it.
“Still flowing.”
I put my hand on it and could feel the vibration of gas moving through the pipe. “Wonder what’s using all the gas, where it’s going?”
Cecil shook his head. “No idea, but it is moving.”
Danny laid his head on the pipe, pressing his ear against it. “I can hear; it’s like a rumble.”
“I thought the gas was out,” Aric said.
“We all did; but something is using it,” Cecil replied.
I looked at him, “Do you know anyone with gas service in town?”
He nodded and smiled, “I know where you’re going. I thought the same thing. But I have gas at my house. The range and water heater are gas, and I don’t have any.”
“So the main line is flowing but there’s no service in town?” I shook my head, “doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“Me neither. Someone turned a valve someplace.” Cecil replied.
“Who would turn the gas off and why?” Danny asked.
“I want to know where this gas is going. Someone’s using it,” I said.
“I’ve looked for v
alves that could have been shut off, but haven’t found any. Wish I knew someone that worked for the gas company,” Cecil said.
“You got time to take a ride over to the plant, see if there’s gas there?” I asked.
Cecil nodded, “Sure, I was hoping you’d want to.”
“Let’s go.”
We drove back through town, getting a strange look from Livingston as we passed the armory without stopping. As we passed the intersection of Highway 44, Cecil was looking out the window. “I haven’t been this far from home in a while.”
“Hard to get around now-a-days isn’t it?” Danny asked.
Cecil chuckled “You could say that.”
We pulled up to the gate of the plant. A large chain with a heavy padlock held the gate closed. Cecil hopped out and took a set of keys from his pocket and removed the lock. Pushing the gate open, he waved me through and secured the gate behind us. Getting back in, Cecil directed me around the back of the plant towards the generator. Parking the truck, we got out and looked at the old machine.
Cecil looked up at the exhaust stacks of the old power plant, “I used to maintain this thing; spent a lot of time out here. It was cheaper for them to make their own than it was to buy it.”
“I did for several years too. The ones I worked on were a lot bigger though,” I replied.
“Where’s the gas come in?” Danny asked.
Cecil pointed, “Back here.”
We followed him back around the structure to find a yellow pipe about six inches in diameter sloping up out of the ground.
“Here it is,” Cecil said as he laid a hand on it. He looked up and smiled, “See what you think.”
I put my hand on the pipe and felt the same vibration, “Feels like it.”
Once again Danny laid his ear on the pipe, “oh yeah, I can hear it.”
“So, can we start it up? We could have power,” Aric said.
“Not yet. We need to check it out first, not to mention we need power just to get it running,” Cecil said.
“Yeah, we’ll have to find a big ass generator,” I replied.
Danny shook his head, “Why does a power plant need power to get it running; that doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
“It seems counterintuitive, but something has to provide the power for the all the stuff that makes this thing run. There are all kinds of motors, valves, thermocouples and other instruments that need power,” I replied.
“I’m glad you guys know what you’re talking about, because I damn sure don’t,” Aric added, shaking his head.
“Well, now we know there’s gas here. But we’ve got a lot to do before we try it,” I said.
Cecil looked up at the power lines overhead, “Yeah, we’ll have to go around and do some line work too.”
I laughed, “We’ll make sure this thing is going to run before we start climbing poles.”
Cecil smiled, “That’s for you young bucks. I ain’t climbing any poles.”
“Me neither, I’m not climbing any of those. I don’t like heights or electricity. Combine the two and it’s not just no; it’s hell no!” Danny said.
We all laughed and headed back for the truck. After dropping Cecil off, we headed for the old concert shell at the park. I wanted to check on the two chicken thieves and see if Livingston actually did what I said. As we pulled up I could see he had indeed. The two men were tied back to back with the flag pole between then. I could see a large piece of cardboard hanging from one of them, but couldn’t yet read it.
We walked across the park, or maybe market was a better term for it now. There were tables scattered throughout the park. Those that didn’t have a table had spread their offerings on blankets; and a couple of the more industrious vendors had cobbled together small stalls. As we walked through, I suddenly noticed all the smells. There was the smell of fire, cooking meat, raw fish and some less desirable odors mixed in.
I nodded to the two Guardsmen standing watch over the two men, “They giving you any trouble?”
One of them smiled, “Nah, not now anyway. They finally figured out this was for real.”
The sign read: My name’s Tommy Lowell, and I’m a chicken thief.
The other man had a sign around his neck as well. His name was David Morris. Tommy looked up at me as I read the sign. He wasn’t as cocky as he had been at the armory.
“Gonna steal anymore chickens?” I asked.
He looked around the park, “Naw, I reckon not. Everyone thinks I’m a thief now.”
“You are a thief, dumbass,” one of the guardsmen replied.
“You’re not just a thief, you’re a chicken thief!” The other guardsmen added with a laugh.
Tommy lowered his head. Maybe it was shame; maybe it was disgust. I told the guards they could let them go tomorrow. They said they’d pass it along to the relief. As we walked back to the truck, Danny snickered.
“Who thought that up?”
“I did; didn’t know what else to do with them.”
Aric shook his head, “That would suck, everyone looking at you like that.”
“That’s the whole point,” I replied.
With the business in town taken care of we headed back home.
Thad cut the saw off and stepped back to watch the tree fall. The long leaf pine landed on the ground with a thunderous crash. Sarge started to laugh, “I’ll be damned Thad, you hit it perfect.”
Thad smiled, “Told you I could.”
“Damn, Thad; didn’t know you were a lumberjack,” Mike added.
“I’ve dropped a few trees in my day,” Thad replied.
“Let’s get to it,” Sarge said; then started the small saw he was holding.
They went to work cutting the limbs out and bucking the trunk. Sarge wanted logs seven feet long. This one would give them three sections. They were going around the neighborhood cutting select pine trees. As the logs were bucked, Thad would throw a chain around several of them and drag them to the construction site with the tractor.
“Back the tractor up over here!” Sarge shouted.
Thad climbed on the machine and backed it up to the logs. Ted was dragging the chain under one of them as Mike hooked the other end to the draw bar on the back of the tractor. The logs were pulled one at a time so they could be chained together. Once all three were out on the road, the chain was wrapped around them, and Thad headed out. Thankfully, this tree was rather close to the site. Last time the logs slipped out and Thad had to re-hook them by himself.
As Thad pulled up, Jeff waved to him and ran out to unhook the logs. He gathered the chain up and handed it to Thad.
“Before you go, can you scoop some more out?” Jeff asked.
Thad nodded, “Sure thing.”
Jeff called down to the girls that were digging in a hole. They gladly got out of the way so the tractor could get in again. Jeff pointed out what he wanted Thad to move. It didn’t take long for the tractor to move what it could get to.
Thad waved, “I’ll be back!”
As the tractor pulled away, Jess let out a loud sigh and hopped back into the hole. “It ain’t gonna dig itself.”
“How big does this thing have to be?” Taylor asked as she dragged her shovel back into the pit.
“You can see the marks the old man put on the ground,” Jeff said as he jumped back in beside Jess.
“Uhhgg,” Lee Ann moaned as she joined everyone in the pit.
“Why are we doing this again?” Fred asked as she heaved a load of dirt over the side of the pit.
“I guess they’re worried about someone attacking us, and want some defensive positions,” Jeff said as he slung a spade of dirt out.
“How many of these do we have to build?” Taylor asked.
“At least two,
I think,” Jess said.
As they were talking, Mel, Little Bit and Miss Kay walked up, pulling a green wagon.
“Anyone thirsty?” Kay called out as they got close.
There was a unanimous yes! from the pit as everyone started to come out, thankful for any reason for a break.
“How’s it going?” Mel asked.
“Slow,” Jess replied as she took a cup from her.
On the wagon was a five-gallon water jug. Mel handed out cups. Jess was first in line. As she was filling her cup, she looked back, “It’s cold!”
“We put some ice in it,” Kay said with a smile. “I thought you guys would like that.”
Jess turned the cup up and took a long drink as Lee Ann filled her cup, “Oh that is so good!” Jess shouted.
“Yeah, those Berkey filters are the best thing we ever bought,” Mel said.
“I’m glad you did,” Jeff said, taking a drink.
“It’s so hot out, this is great. Thanks for bringing it down here,” Fred said.
“Looks like you’ve got a lot done,” Kay said.
“But we still have a lot to do,” Taylor replied.
Mel took the shovel Taylor was leaning on. “I’ll help,” she said, and walked down into the pit.
“I wanna help!” Little Bit shouted. Lee Ann quickly gave up her shovel to her little sister.
Jeff walked back into the pit and showed Mel what they needed to dig out. They went to work with Little Bit’s help, such as it was. Everyone got back to work, taking turns as they were one shovel short. They would alternate taking a break, giving each person a chance to rest. Miss Kay made sure everyone had water, bringing cups down and making them drink.
“Why is the back of the hole sloped like this?” Kay asked.
Jeff straightened up and leaned on his shovel, “Thad dug it out with the tractor. He can drive it down in here on the backside. The front side is the side we’re worried about.”
“Where are those big logs going to go?”
