by Wilson Harp
Bill walked into his garage and put his trimmer up. He climbed on his riding mower and tried to start it. Nothing happened. He tried again. He looked out at the crowd lining his property and then dropped his face into his hands. I guess he finally remembered what had happened. He climbed down from his mower and went into his house.
As his door closed, the crowd broke up.
“Isn’t that a sight,” Anne said.
“I think we need to figure out if any of my tools might work,” Dad said as we walked back to the house. “You start looking in the garage, I’ll go get the key to the shed.”
‘What should we be looking for?” I asked.
“We’re supposed to go into town, David,” Anne said.
“Anything gas powered to start. We’ll check anything with batteries as well, but I’m not optimistic about those,” Dad answered.
I wanted to follow Dad, but Anne required attention first.
“Anne, let Ted know what happened here, okay?”
“Do you want me to leave Clyde here for you?”
“No,” I said. “Take him into town and see if someone else can use him?”
“Okay, I’ll let Ted know. And when I get done, I’ll come back for supper.”
“Why?” I asked. It sounded short and rude, but I didn’t understand why she would want to come back to my house for supper.
“Because it’s been a few months since I have spent time with your folks. Just because you threw me out of your life doesn’t mean they did.”
She mounted Bonnie and led Clyde north into town. I could feel the embarrassment coloring my face.
I went into the garage and started looking carefully at everything in there. Most of the things I found were hand tools or gardening equipment. The few power tools I found were electric.
I joined Dad out in the shed after half an hour of searching the garage.
“Find anything?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No. Found two flashlights, but neither worked.”
“Those probably need new batteries.”
“I was wondering about the flashlight that didn’t work the first night,” I said. “Seems the EMP didn’t fry the smoke detector battery, so why should it have hurt the ones in the flashlight?”
“That one is an LED flashlight,” Dad said. “I figure the EMP hit the display, not the batteries. The ones in the garage are the old incandescent type. If the bulbs didn’t pop when the pulse went through, they should be okay.”
Dad had a keen mind and I was always amazed at how quick he was to come to a correct conclusion.
“Find anything out here?” I asked.
“Acetylene torch, small chainsaw, and roto-tiller. Those are the only ones I have hope for.”
I looked at the equipment he named and reached for the chainsaw when I heard a horse approaching. I looked out expecting to see Anne riding back. I would have a chance to apologize for my insensitive comment. But instead I saw Ted on a splotchy brown and white horse.
“Morning,” Ted said as he dismounted. “Heard there was some excitement here a little while back.”
My Dad stepped out of the shed and looked at the man who had brought some semblance of order in town yesterday.
“Ted, nice to see you again.”
“You too, Pat. David here said he was going to be my runner for this section. I was surprised he was your son, as easy as he was to work with.”
Dad chuckled a little, walked over to Ted, and stuck out his hand.
“No hard feelings?”
Ted shook my dad’s hand and smiled. “None, Pat. Calling me a paranoid nut-job who can do what he wants is one of the nicer receptions I’ve had in this town.”
“Yeah. Well, I guess you get the last laugh.”
Ted shook his head. “No, this is nothing to laugh about. I just want to keep as many people alive as possible.”
“You think it’s long term?” Dad asked.
“Maybe. But we better plan on that being the case. We won’t have a lot of time otherwise.”
“Dad and some of the others have already started planning,” I said.
“I heard about that,” Ted said turning toward me. “Wells reopened and a big bonfire last night.”
“Wood ash,” Dad said simply.
“Means latrines, then,” Ted said. “Good, that gives me a little less to worry about. Sounds like the south section is being taken care of.”
“And graves,” Dad said.
Ted looked back at him. “And graves. I hope we don’t need them soon, but we need to lay in as much ash as we can. One outbreak and we will need it by the ton.”
“A bad enough outbreak…” Dad lifted his hands as he let the thought drift by.
A small crowd was starting to gather where we were standing. Most of the neighbors had heard me say Ted had taken charge in town, and now he was here a few miles south of the town itself, they were curious to hear what he had to say.
“I better go check on my wife, Ted,” Dad said as he motioned to the gathering people. “You have an audience it looks like.”
I hesitated between going with Dad and staying with Ted. As neither man indicated what I should do, I decided I would go in the house and let Ted deal with the questions by himself.
I went through the garage and into the kitchen. I heard my parents in the living room. Mom was upset and Dad was trying to calm her down.
“It’s okay, Abbey. I’ll pick it up.”
“I wasn’t upset or anything, Pat. I just forgot the power was out and when the vacuum wouldn’t come on… I was putting it up when I bumped the table. That’s how the table got knocked over.”
“I know, that table has been in my way many times”
I watched from the back of the kitchen. This was something I had tried to ignore for several years now. I couldn’t imagine how Dad kept it together like this day after day.
Dad set the table back to where it was and Mom picked up the bowl, doily, and other items that had been sitting on top. She gave them to Dad and then carefully put away the vacuum cleaner.
“David,” she said as she looked into the kitchen. “I thought you were outside.”
“I was, but I wanted to see if you needed anything else.”
“I don’t think so,” she answered. “Pat? Is there anything you need David to do?”
Dad looked up at me. His eyes were rimmed in red and he let out a long sigh.
“Thanks. Would you mind getting a clean five-gallon bucket from the shed and go get more water? Your mom wants to boil a few potatoes for dinner, and we will need to get that started soon.”
“Sure, Dad,” I said. I waited until Mom had taken the vacuum down to the hall closet before I walked into the living room.
“Is there anything else I can do?” I asked as I drew near to him.
He stood from his work on the table and shook his head. “No, this is a good day, all things considered.”
“Okay,” I said. I left the house through the kitchen door and went through the garage to the shed. The crowd around Ted and his horse seemed in a good mood. Hearing what had to be done was one thing, hearing it from someone who had authority behind him was something else.
I went to the shed and found several five gallon buckets stacked together. I pulled one free of the collection and walked past the crowd toward the street.
“Hey stranger, Dad have you working all day?”
I turned to see Anne riding toward me on Bonnie. Kenny was behind her riding Clyde. He looked very ill at ease on top of the horse.
“We looked for anything that might work. I expect most people around here wasted the morning doing that.”
“Find anything good?”
“A few items might work. They run on gas. But Ted got here before we could test them.”
“Anne, I need to get off your horse now,” Kenny insisted.
I set my bucket down on the side of the road and took Clyde’s reins. I offered a hand to Kenny, but he just tumbled f
rom the back of Clyde almost knocking me down as he fell.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “Just don’t like riding. Told her, told Ted and now I’m telling you.”
I helped him to his feet and tried not to smile too much at his discomfort.
“Good to see you again, Kenny.”
“You too, David. I need to go help Ted now.”
I watched as Kenny dashed across my yard to attend to Ted.
“Everything go okay in town?” I asked Anne.
“Yeah, Ted really knows what to do. Wells and latrines were the two big items on his list today. Sounds like your dad and his buddies were on the right track yesterday. What are you doing?” She nodded as I picked the bucket back up.
“Mom needs some water for dinner, so I’m going to the well to get some.”
“I need someone to come out and get my well working again. I have some bottled water left, and there is a water tank for the animals that was filled last week, thank God.”
“Do you have anyone who can fix that for you?” I asked.
“I don’t know, I’ll ask around today. I guess we will be pushing wells and food rationing.”
“And latrines. And wood ash for the latrines.”
She wrinkled her nose.
“What a great topic to bring up to people. But, it’s better than them not knowing.”
“Go on to the house,” I said. “I will get the water and be back in a few minutes.”
Anne led the horses to my parent’s front door and I turned back to my chore. The well was about sixty feet from the road and surrounded by people. Several adults and a few children waited in line to pump water from the old Anderson well. A few of the women kept looking at the crowd around Ted. Their anxiety was clear as they waited their turn for fresh water. I’m sure they were all curious at what he was telling their husbands.
By the time I was able to fill the bucket and start back across the street, the crowd around Ted was breaking up. I was surprised at how heavy the bucket was after it was filled with water. I would definitely prohibit Dad from fetching any more himself.
As I staggered up the side of the ditch to the road, I heard the unmistakable roar of a motorcycle. I had to shield my eyes from the bright afternoon sun as I looked to the south. There came a man on a motorcycle that sped toward town. As he passed, I could hear him yell in a sort of victory roar. He turned around about a mile later and came back.
This time, when the crowds came to marvel at what had been normal two days prior, they were not stunned into silence. They yelled and waved and jumped up and down. Men and women, grandparents and children, they all celebrated some guy on a motorcycle.
I pulled myself out of the ditch and onto the shoulder of the road. I was stronger than I was a few minutes before. I stood taller. I looked at the sky, with its slight shimmery waves of greens and blues, and smiled. The pulse of energy may have knocked us down, but for at least today, it hadn’t knocked us out.
I crossed the street and brought the bucket of water into the house.
“Did you see that?” Anne asked as I came in.
“Yes, who is it?”
“I don’t know,” Dad said. “I think he moved into the Mitchell’s place a couple of years ago. I saw him in the crowd at Bill’s this morning. He must have realized he never checked to see if his motorcycle would work.”
“Wow,” said Ted as he stood in the front doorway. I had left the door open when I brought in the water.
“That was something, alright,” Anne said. “I brought the horse over for David, but maybe that guy could be used since he has some real transportation.”
“We’ll find a way to use him,” Ted said. “You guys ready to spread the word of what needs to be done today?”
“Yes,” I said as Anne nodded.
“Good. Let me add an extra bit for everyone. Tonight people need to set out any clean buckets or containers they can. We might get some rain in here, and we want to gather as much water as possible. But remind them any water they drink or cook with needs to be boiled for ten minutes first.”
“Got it,” said Anne as she noted what he said on a slip of paper.
“Great. You two need to get going, I’d like to have a chat with Pat if I could.”
I looked back at Dad. “You need me for anything else?”
“No, Davey. You go do what you need to, I’ll take it easy today.”
I looked over at Mom who was peeling potatoes in the kitchen.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll be home in time for supper.”
Chapter 7
The rains came in little pulses over the next several days. Storms tore through the first night, darkening Kenton in a way I had never experienced. The northern lights were blocked out by the heavy clouds and the wind howled all the louder for the loss of sight.
The next two days saw a series of short showers. It brought plenty of fresh water to us, but delayed construction of individual latrines and outhouses. It also brought a melancholy that combined with worry and uncertainty.
A bright dawn greeted us on the third day and the sky looked clear in the north and west. The northern lights which had hung in the sky like specters the first two days were gone. Occasionally I would see a ribbon of color out of the corner of my eye, but it seemed more like a phantom feeling one would experience when they saw a bug and then lost track of it. A sensation would run along your leg or shoulder, but you knew it wasn’t really there.
Anne arrived about an hour after sunup with Clyde for me to ride. The gelding was starting to get used to me and for the first time seemed to recognize me as I approached.
“Not wearing your coat and hat today?” Anne asked. She smirked as she kept any tone of mocking out of her voice. I had been forced to wear an old jacket and baseball cap from my high school years during the last couple of days just to stay somewhat dry.
“No, it’s going to be a beautiful day,” I said.
“Ready to head in and get orders from Ted?” she asked.
“I will later. I just want to check up on a few families and make sure they are boiling their water before they drink it,” I said.
“I understand, I need to check on a few people myself. See you in town around lunch?”
“Okay.”
Anne waved at me and turned Bonnie away as I mounted Clyde. I rode south along Granger until I came to the Carter’s Creek Bridge. Just before that was a little spur of a road with three houses and a couple of mobile homes. One of those mobile homes had a single mother with three young children, and I wanted to make certain she was boiling any water before she mixed it with formula for her baby or powder mix for her older kids.
As I approached her house, I heard a commotion and saw an older man step out of a farmhouse that had been the only house in this area when I was growing up. He wailed a mournful cry and fell to his knees.
The Gatewood family had left the town soon after I graduated high school, so I wasn’t familiar with the man who was crying on his front porch. I turned Clyde toward the house and dismounted as I approached the front gate. I opened the gate and ran up to the porch.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“She’s gone. She’s gone,” he muttered.
A few of his neighbors were gathering, including Luke Carter. I tried to get the man to focus on me, but tears had been on his cheeks and wetting his beard for some time before he had come outside.
Luke pushed past me and entered the house. The woman I was going to see about the water knelt beside the older man and hugged him.
A few minutes later, Luke came back out the front door. He motioned for me and another man who had come into the yard to join him at the bottom of the steps to the porch.
“Wanda is dead,” he said.
“His wife?” I asked.
Luke nodded. “You might want to go let the council know.”
The council was a group of six prominent and effective leaders in Kenton. Ted had selecte
d them two nights before. He led the council and was supported by Mayor Mueller, John Laffer, Bill Hanson, Susan Skinner, Ike Stokes, and Clint Davis.
“Okay,” I said. “Her name is Wanda, what is his.”
“Kevin Cummings,” said the other man.
“Why are you down this far, David?” Luke asked me. “I’ve got everything under control down here.”
I pointed to the woman who was comforting the older man on the porch. “I was just coming down here to make sure she was boiling the water for her kids. I wasn’t intending any offense, Mister Carter.”
Luke smiled and dropped a heavy arm on my shoulder.
“You are so much like your dad. There is no offense, you’re doing the job they gave you. I’ll take care of it. You go let the council know we had a death overnight. I think she died in her sleep. I figure we can give Kevin the day to deal with it and then tonight we can dig the grave and bury her.”
I mounted Clyde and rode away from the tragic scene. I didn’t want to stop by the house and speak with my folks. I told myself it was because I didn’t want Dad to feel like he had to get involved, but I knew I just didn’t want to cry. And if I spoke to my folks about it, I would cry. It wasn’t fair. I hadn’t cried over being unable to help Lexi and Emma, but I would cry over some woman I had never met. I knew I would cry, and I knew that wasn’t fair somehow.
As I kicked around those thoughts in my head, I rode past the house and was able to ride into town dry-eyed.
I entered the library, which had become the headquarters for our efforts. Maps of the town were laid out on the large tables, and Ted had more volunteers than he knew what to do with.
Mayor Mueller was an invaluable asset to Ted, and I could see why he was in his fifth term. He was an efficient administrator and could handle people and their complaints in a smooth and confident manner. But he had met his match in Sharon Little.
“I don’t know, Missus Little,” the mayor said. “I don’t have the resources to check on that for you.”
“It’s ‘Miz Little’, and you can’t tell me if there is a single milk goat in this town?”
