by Brad Manuel
Monday meant a visit to the local library, located just three blocks from their house. Matt found books on math, engineering, physics, survival, and most importantly, farming. He was obsessed with planting crops and setting up irrigation systems once he travelled to Hanover. New Hampshire had a short growing season. He studied which vegetables he could grow, how to harvest the seeds after the season, rotating the crops, watering the crops, pest control. He studied canning, and how much food they would be need for a group of ten or more.
Matt and John studied livestock, how to milk a cow, how to pasteurize milk, how to slaughter animals, how to mate and grow a herd. There were endless topics to learn if they hoped to survive in the new world. Before the pandemic they did not know which berries were edible. They spent Monday through Thursday learning what they could eat.
As he waited for the rice to cook on the grill, Matt looked at math worksheets for Craig. He also paged through an edible plants book for his younger brother to read and write a one page book report on by Friday.
John and Craig stood in the kitchen chatting about fishing and laughing about John not catching anything for the third outing in a row. “Maybe Matt will share some of his farming books with you, Dad, you don’t seem to be able to catch anything lately. Growing might be your thing.”
“Okay, so I’m a little cold. I’ll get my lucky touch back. Wait until we get to New Hampshire and I can fish with worms. I’ll be much better there.” He smiled as Craig continued to rib him. The sun poked through the clouds, and the temperature warmed ten degrees.
Craig walked to the sink to wash his hands. John went out on the deck and let the breeze blow in his face. It was still cool, 55 degrees, but a warm breeze blew from the south.
“The wind is up from the south again today.” He looked over his shoulder at Matt, standing by the grill and watching the rice pot. “That’s two weeks. It’s time to go.”
“It’s still cold in the morning. Think how bad it will be in New Hampshire. It’s only February.” Matt was comfortable where he was. He did not want to leave.
“I like this house too, I like the ocean, I like how safe we are, and having electricity, and heat, and food, but we need to get up to Hanover and start a life with our entire family. Don’t forget for one minute that you have a brother up there, alone, probably not living in a solar house eating fresh flounder and rice.” John did not speak with anger or admonishment. He used a matter of fact tone. “We cannot let our comfort cloud Greg’s situation, which is probably dire.”
Matt knew his father was right. It took him a second to reply, but when he did, his voice acknowledged he was ready.
“When do we go?” Matt asked.
“We make a list of things we should take, we pick a vehicle we can load with extra gas and operates off road if necessary, we pack up, and leave this week. “ John stated the obvious. “And we frame this as nothing but positive to Craig. You should work with him today on school, maybe mention he will be the teacher when we hook up with his cousins.”
“Okay, I’ll start to prep him, and I’ll get the books we might need for the trip. The extended cab suburban is going to be the best option. We can fill it with food and water, convert the third row into a bed. The fuel economy stinks, but getting fuel is not a problem right now. It’s also a beast off-road in the grass and mud. I’ll start to pack.”
“Can we have some lunch first? I’m starving.” John said with a smile. “You’re always so serious, lighten up a little bit.” John’s smile widened. Matt was seldom serious. John enjoyed teasing him.
“Someone has to be the adult in the house. Another reason the Suburban is a good call? I was never taught how to drive stick, leaving army vehicles out of my capability.” Matt walked away from his still smiling father in a mock huff.
Craig listened to the conversation from the other side of the sliding glass door.
“So I guess you heard all of that.” John said in a loud voice so Craig knew he was talking to him. John pushed the door open and walked inside.
“Yeah.” Craig replied in a sheepish voice that said he knew he should not have been listening.
“What do you think?” John asked. Craig proved himself to be a valuable member of the group. John spoke to him with the respect he deserved. While not a decision maker, Craig was always allowed input.
“I miss Greg. I want to leave. I don’t care about this house or any of this stuff. I want to find my brother.” Craig stood tall he spoke to his father. “I also like the idea of bossing around two kids younger than me. You tell me what I need to do. I’ll pack up and leave whenever you tell me. Heck, I tried to leave months ago.” Craig smiled at his joke.
“We’ll leave as soon as we can, but not before I eat the fish you caught. Let’s set the table and enjoy.” John walked over to Craig and roughed up his son’s mop of a hairdo. Both of his sons had grown up in the last few months, more than John realized.
John, Matt, and Craig sat at a round table in the kitchen’s breakfast nook next to a bank of windows. The clouds were gone and the sun beamed welcome rays and warmth through the panes. They laughed and ate, enjoying lunch a little longer than usual. It was their last fresh meal at ‘the mansion.’
Matt did not give Craig the math worksheets or edible plants book. Their afternoon was spent packing and preparing for the departure to Raleigh, NC.
24
Hubba sat on his bed in the corner of the kitchen watching the people run around. He was used to excitement and commotion. He stretched out his front legs, closed his eyes and waited for his call to the study later in the day. The kitchen was his favorite haunt. The nice men in white jackets always flipped him food.
The people running around the mansion were not nice today. They were frenzied. Hubba did not understand what was happening, but again, he was used to commotion. He happily drifted off to sleep in the sunny corner of the kitchen. Maybe the white coats would show up later, giving him a few snacks before his evening meal of kibble.
“What about the dog?” One of the men asked.
“Forget the dog, they are supposed to be carriers. Did you see the reports from Brazil? He’ll be dead soon anyway. My dog died last week. He was old. I thought it was age. Now I know better.”
“So we just leave him here? He’ll starve. That’s cruel.”
“You want to bring a terminal disease carrying dog with us to Asheville? You’ll never get through the security checkpoints. That dog stays here. Take it outside and shoot it, or open a bag of food and leave it on the ground if you want, but it ain’t coming with us. The governor left on the plane this morning. Her kid has a fever. I doubt she’s worried about the dog.”
The first man shrugged his shoulders. He went to the cupboard and pulled out a bag of Hubba’s food. He set the bag on the floor and tore the top open all the way. He placed two large roasting pans full of water on the floor next to the food.
“Good luck buddy.” He said to the sleeping dog. He ran out of the kitchen, letting the door swing closed behind him and shutting the bolt at the top.
Hubba woke up later in the day. All the people were gone. He knew it would be calm at some point, but did not expect to be alone. It was unusual for no one to be in the kitchen. He walked over to his automatic water bowl and slurped, splashing water over the back and both sides of his dish. The bowl had two gallons of water, inverted in a jug, and would refill the bowl if the water fell below a certain level. Hubba watched the air bubble glug in the plastic jug, signaling more water filling his bowl.
He had to go to the bathroom. He always did after he drank. He walked to the back door and hit it with his paw. No one came. He hit the door again.
He waddled to the swinging door that led to the rest of the house. He hit it with his paw. No one came. He barked.
He waddled to the back door, lifted his leg, and peed on the floor. He went back to his bed and fell asleep.
Hubba was an evolutionary wonder. Typically the strongest and most adapted
of a species moves along the evolutionary ladder. Hubba was a standard bulldog, a breed that is almost exclusively delivered caesarian, typically cannot breed without In vitro fertilization, and has no ability to hunt. Yet Hubba was the last of his kind. Canines fell victim to the rapture, or a mutated form of the rapture. Unlike apocalyptic movies with packs of wild dogs roaming the landscape, the post rapture world was void of wolves, coyotes, dogs, and dingos.
Despite being abandoned by the governor of North Carolina, Hubba survived seventy-five days in filth with little food and water. Today he slept happily on the front porch of his new owner’s house. It was warm outside, but the red brick landing was cool from the night’s low temperature. Hubba had the best of both worlds, a hot sun baking his back, and cool rocks on his belly.
It was good to be Hubba again. Winter was over, spring had sprung, and he had a new family that loved him.
His ears perked up as a large black truck pulled into his cul de sac. He lifted his head off the brick, stood up, and barked wildly.
Todd looked out the front window to see why his dog was barking. He saw the black SUV with red fuel canisters strapped to the roof and back. He grabbed a shotgun off the top shelf of his coat closet and went to the second floor. He wanted the element of surprise and the advantage of position over the strangers in the truck.
The black vehicle pulled into the driveway. Todd heard doors open and shut as he made his way up the back stairs.
“Todd? Anyone home?” It was John’s voice. Todd was halfway up the staircase when he froze, ran back down and opened the back door to the garage.
“John! You’re a month early! I was about to shoot you!” Todd ran over and threw his arms around his brother.
“It got warm. We decided to drive up. Man is it good to see you. Are your boys alive? Are they here?” John asked with apprehension. Tears of joy ran down his face, but worry clouded his questions.
“Yes, yes, they are in the woods.” Todd looked over at Matt and Craig. “Oh my gosh, look how tall you are! I haven’t seen you guys in a year or more. You’re huge. Get over here, let me give you a hug.” Todd pulled Matt in. His nephew was significantly taller than him.
Todd began to cry. He was the emotional brother. He held Matt tightly. “Get over here too, Craig. Give me a hug.” He reached his hand out and grabbed his nephew by his shirt, pulling him in for a hug. Todd felt John’s big arms wrap around the three of them.
“God damn I missed you guys.” Todd sobbed as he hugged his brother and nephews.
John felt an animal nudging his calf. “Where in the world did you find a dog? Didn’t all the dogs die? What the hell is this beast doing alive?” He bent down and gave Hubba a scratch. The dog panted, losing his breath during the short run from the front porch.
“That’s a long story. His name is ‘Hubba.’”
“Matt! Craig!” Brian and Jay were screaming and running across the backyard after spotting their cousins. When they got to the edge of the driveway, they slowed in an attempt to act cool.
“Hey.” Brian said to Matt, flipping his head up casually.
“Hey? You come here little dude.” He picked Brian up and flipped him over. Brian’s feet were next to Matt’s face. “It’s been a while since I played the Brian guitar.” Matt proceeded to strum tickles on Brian’s tummy in mock guitar play. Brian was screaming with laughter, begging his cousin to stop.
Craig looked over at a smiling Jay. “I think this is a dueling guitar number.” Jay bolted towards the back yard and the play equipment.
Matt put Brian down, “You have three seconds before I play my second number.”
Brian screamed and ran. Matt turned to his Uncle, “the game’s afoot!”
Todd turned to John and gave him another hug, tight and full of love. “I knew you’d be here, I knew it. I hung up the phone four, maybe five months ago and thought, he’s still alive, he’s coming, but then everyone died. Everyone, and I questioned if I was sane to believe my entire family would survive.” Todd cried again.
“I know, Todd, I know.” They broke their hug, stepping back.
“Do you need anything?” Todd asked. “Food, water, anything?”
“No, no, I’m good. We had a huge breakfast, lots of food and drink on the way up. I’m good.” John bent down to pet the dog again.
“How was your winter?” John got down to business. “Has it been tough? Are the boys okay? They are young to lose their mother and all their friends.”
“To steal from Mark Twain, ‘the reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.’” John heard a woman’s voice respond from behind him.
He spun around. “What? You’re alive?” He walked to Emily slowly. He placed his hands on the outside of her arms, holding her as if she were a mannequin. “How? How did you live? How is it possible?” He pulled her into his body and wrapped his arms around her.
“Um, I don’t know, the same way you did, I guess?” She could tell John was shaken by her survival, like he was hugging a ghost.
“Dude, you going to stop hugging my wife? I know we’re brothers, but I think I have to fight you if you don’t stop soon. Plus, I think it’s been a while since you’ve seen a woman.”
John did not let go. He hugged Emily as if he was hugging his own wife. “I just assumed you were dead. My god it’s good to see you. Megan and Jenny both died, I just, I’m sorry.” He pulled away and looked at her again. “It’s unbelievable, like a miracle.”
“I think our boys have taken yours into the woods to show them the big fort they’ve been working on all winter. It’s pretty cool back there. I’m sure you’ll get a chance to check it out.” Emily knelt down to pet Hubba. “Hey, did you meet our dog? I picked him up downtown last fall.”
John was in shock. Tears streamed down his face. He expected to find his brother and nephews, but seeing Emily was too much for him to handle.
“Can I walk around a little? I drove the entire way.” John continued to keep a hand on his sister in law.
“Absolutely. Do you want to walk around the neighborhood?” Todd could tell John was rattled.
“How about you let me go and I take you into into the woods to see the fort?” Emily said.
John released her, wiping his tears and nose on his long sleeved shirt. He walked to his truck and reached through the open driver’s window for his bottle of water.
“How were the highways and roads? Did you take 95 the whole way?” Todd had not ventured beyond Raleigh.
“I made it in two and a half hours. We drove 100+ the entire way. Insane. No cars. Literally open highway. There was one roadblock we had to drive around, some kind of barricade or something at the state line, but it was minor, I hesitate to call it a road block.” John took another swig as he walked into the backyard. “I did notice that some of the exits into towns were blocked off, like people didn’t want visitors coming off the highway, but the highway itself was clear.”
They could hear the kids yelling, laughing, and playing,. “I’ve tried so hard to give Craig a childhood since this all started. I guess it was easier with two young ones. We’ve,” John paused, “had more setbacks than you.”
“What is the word on Greg? He’s obviously not with you.” Emily asked curiously.
“The last time I spoke to him he was up at school, safe in the dorm. I told him to wait until he thought everyone was dead before making a break to Hanover for the winter. It’s why we came up a month early. If it’s warm down here, maybe it’s warm up there.” John stopped. “I’m so glad you’re alive. It’s a bright spot in the horrible nightmare we’re all living.” John cleared his throat. “Can you do me a favor and not talk about Greg too much with Craig and Matt? I don’t know how long it will take us to get up there, if the roads are blocked around New York, if we have to go through the mountains. Who the hell knows? Let’s keep it as casual as we can.”
“Sure, John, sure.” Todd looked at Emily. She nodded. John turned back towards the gate in the fence that led t
o the woods behind the house. Todd reached out and grabbed Emily’s hand, squeezing it. He smiled at her. It felt great to have other people around.
“Matt, Craig, come over here and say hello to Aunt Emily.” The boys looked up from behind a wall of sticks and leaves. They ran over for the reunion. Emily cried. Craig was bashful. Matt acted mature, but also cried.
The Dixon reunion party lasted for the rest of the day. Todd thawed hamburgers, an exciting treat for John, Todd, and Craig. Emily made orzo salad, and they opened a few cans of corn. Everyone laughed and played while enjoying an old fashioned cookout. Hubba made sure there were no leftover burgers.
At 7:30 the young kids were asleep. Craig was on the upper bunk in Jay’s room. Brian made his upper bunk up for Matt, but did not stay up for his bunkmate to come to bed. The youngest Dixons were exhausted after the long and exciting day.
Emily, Matt, John, and Todd sat at the kitchen table. Solar lamps illuminated the room. John enjoyed a beer. His shoulders relaxed as tension left his body. Finding Todd and Emily shifted burden from him to other members of his family.
“So you haven’t seen anyone else alive? No one? “ Matt asked. He played with his brother and cousins all afternoon. This was his first chance to speak with the adults.
“Just Hubba.” Emily answered. “We kept low for several months before actively seeking others. We gave up in October. As far as we can tell, there is no one else alive in Raleigh. If there were survivors, they left during the initial outbreak and they haven’t come back.”
“How are you on supplies? I mean, if you served us burgers tonight, I guess you’re doing pretty well.” John could tell that his brother was well stocked. He wanted to know exactly how well stocked.
