by Brad Manuel
“Squirrel hash? Oh man, I was hoping it was going to be squirrel hash! Did you crack the eggs on top?” Paul walked into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee.
“I did. Should be ready in a minute. I have the bread sliced to put in the oven.” Greg replied. The kitchen smelled delicious. It was warm from the heat of the stove. “So what’s on tap for today? I assume we need to get ready for visitors. How many did you say exactly?”
“Twenty, twenty people, ten kids, ten adults.” John said through a sip of coffee. “We are going to need a lot of trout and squirrel.”
“That won’t be a problem.” Hank said as he walked into the room. He smelled the air, “Squirrel hash, nice.” He gave a nod to Greg.
“Does everyone know about squirrel hash? Am I really that out of touch with the new world?” John held his arms out on either side in confusion, a paper cup of coffee in his hand.
“We should block off the road at the Lebanon exit, put signs up so the RV’s go through Lebanon. We need the supplies and RV’s here, not at the bottom of Wheelock. It will be tough to turn those big vehicles around if they make it to Norwich and across the bridge. I will follow you with the jeep, and we can park the suburban across the road, put an arrow on the side to show them the way, leave a note.” Matt watched Greg open the oven and pull out a lasagna pan to rest on a wood chopping block. The pan contained potatoes and squirrel meat mixed with vegetables. Eight sunny side-up eggs sat on top of the mixture. Greg popped the bread into the oven.
John’s mouth watered. “Todd and I have two way radios. They should have a range of 25 miles or more, but with these mountains, who knows.” He stopped. “I’m done talking until I eat some of that hash.”
“Squirrel hash,” Greg corrected.
The addition of John, Craig, and Matt made eating in the kitchen cramped, but the new Dixons were a welcome presence. Perhaps it was because Greg spoke so often of his family, but the change from Greg and Rebecca just a few months earlier, to a kitchen full of people seemed natural.
“We need to split up and attack the chores separately. Should we just volunteer? Are we going to follow a leader here? How does this dynamic work? “ John was used to being in control. He did not want to step on toes. Hank was older, Paul was his twin.
Hank understood John’s dilemma. “I have heard a lot about Craig’s fishing. Too much about Craig’s fishing.” He looked at Greg. “I wouldn’t mind taking him over to the trout club and seeing if we can catch a few fish for dinner tonight.” There was a pause while Hank waited for Craig and John to respond.
“Craig, you up for a morning of fishing with your Uncle Hank?” John asked his youngest. “You have to provide for the entire group. It might take a while.”
“Not the way we’re going to fish. We’ll be back by lunch with twenty fish, easy.” Craig threw up a hand for Hank to high five.
“Paul?” Hank asked. “Do we need to get a giant Weber grill from the hardware store?”
“We have one of those, don’t worry about it.” John cut in before Paul could respond. “A few bags of charcoal would be great if we can get them.”
Paul looked at Rebecca. She kept meticulous account of their food, fuel, and supplies.
“We have charcoal in the dorm next door. Greg and I hit the Home Depot and Walmart in Lebanon, and I brought some from Concord. There are 27 bags of forty pound regular and 31 bags of the self starting five pound bags.” Rebecca rattled off the stats between bites.
Paul turned back to John. “We’re good.”
John stared at Rebecca for a second.
“My parents owned a grocery store. I’m used to keeping inventories in my head. It’s just a thing I do.” She explained.
Paul continued. “Why don’t the rest of us figure out the sleeping arrangements. It’s still cold at night. We need rooms with fireplaces. We have two bedrooms upstairs, and we can use the study and bedroom at our old house. How many singles do we need?”
“We have to find other houses, close houses with fireplaces that are free of bodies. The RV’s use propane for heat, and I’m not sure we should rely on them as an option.”
Matt looked at his brother. “This squirrel hash is crazy good. When did you learn to cook?”
“We’ve been working with him.” Hank replied. “He’s a great student, and since he’s the one who is catching almost all of the game, he wanted to start cooking it too. You should have tasted the roasted squirrel he made the day we arrived. He is a fantastic prairie chef.”
“They taught me about herbs, pairing things together, and well, using wine. Rebecca and I didn’t use wine in our cooking. The squirrel hash was my invention. I mixed potatoes and squirrel one night, added vegetables the next morning, and voila, squirrel hash.”
“Well it kicks ass.” Matt told him.
“He’s a natural, that’s for sure.” Hank forked the last bite into his mouth. “Craig and I will head out in a few. Greg has to check his traps. Rebecca has to tell us about the weather for the next few days.”
“Sunny and 50’s during the day, mid thirties at night. I don’t see any storms for the next three days.” She said quickly.
“Okay,” Hank continued. “One of you can come with me and Craig. We’ll follow you to the Lebanon exit so you can leave the suburban there, and we’ll drive you back to the bottom of the hill. The rest of you can find bunk beds to put upstairs, and locate more homes to use for sleeping. I would suggest checking the houses on this street that haven’t been renovated. We aren’t looking for a place to live, just to send people to sleep each night.” Hank looked around the table. “Sound like a plan?”
There was consensus around the room. “How was that for planning a day without naming a leader?” He asked John. “I hope the rest of the people you’ve rounded up are as reasonable as we are.”
“You know what? I think they are. There is one guy that might be a problem. A drug addict. I did not get to meet him. The rest? Nice, hardworking, honest people who understand the situation we are in and want to move ahead and build a life, at least for the most part.”
“I have a question.” Craig chimed in unexpectedly. “Can Greg come with me and Uncle Hank? I haven’t seen him in a long time, and want to spend some time with him.”
“You got it little brother. You and I can drive in the Jeep together behind Uncle Hank. I was going to ask the same thing.” Greg told the white lie to make his younger brother happy. “I can show off my driving to you.”
The day was set into motion. Hank, Greg, and Craig put on boots and warm weather gear for the walk down to the cars. While they got dressed, Rebecca made a few signs and arrows on white paper to direct the RV’s towards the correct exit.
As the fishing party said goodbye, Greg gave a nod to Rebecca. They exchanged smiles. She was sitting at the table with her computer print outs, double checking her weather calculations. “See you when we get back. Don’t let my brother push you around.” He said to her before the door shut.
“Greg Dixon, in all the time you’ve known me, have I ever given you the impression I am a person who can be pushed around?”
“No, ma’am.” He said with a smile. “I guess I should say, please go easy on my brother and father.”
“I will, and I’ll see you when you get back. We have a busy day.” She looked down at her work.
Greg shut the door, grinning as he always did after talking to Rebecca.
“Okay, Craig, here’s the deal. You can’t show Uncle Hank up too much. Try to let him get a few before you really pour it on.” Greg put his arm around his younger brother.
“Hey, now. Let’s not forget who caught the first fish up at the trout club. It wasn’t you, Greg.” Hank said defensively.
“I understand.” Craig looked at his older brother and nodded with a smile. They walked towards Wheelock Street and the steep hill down to their vehicles.
Rebecca sat at her table focusing on her weather charts. She had a few projects going, but did not lik
e to divide her concentration.
Matt moved from the kitchen to the dining room to talk to her. He looked at the charts and calculations taped to the walls and realized he was out of his depth.
“Is all of this yours or is some of it Uncle Paul’s?” Matt asked Rebecca. He was not yet aware of her advanced intelligence.
“We work on some of it together.” She said, turning around in her chair. Rebecca made a vow, never put work ahead of conversation with friends. She used to sit in the library at school and be upset when a person interrupted her, annoyed that she was being pulled away from her figures. She did not regret her past behavior, but decided to change going forward.
“That’s a lie. I don’t understand half the stuff she’s doing.” Paul yelled from the kitchen.
Rebecca blushed. “Well, I guess it is mostly mine, but Paul helps with some of it.”
“Lie.” He yelled again.
“So what is all this? I heard about where we should live, is that what all of this is about? Calculations about deciding where we should live?”
“Some of it. I figured out the best places to live pretty quickly. We are refining which place is best based on how easy it will be to get there, and what things will already be at the location. If we decide to move to Iowa, which we aren’t, but let’s say we are moving to Waverly, Iowa, you’d expect to find seeds, crop seeds, fields cleared for planting, irrigation systems, etc…. What is something like that worth to us? How does that factor into our calculations? Should we accept twenty extra days of winter in exchange for cleared fields? Should we move to a lower January average temperature if it means we don’t have to find and haul corn and wheat seed? I’ve been trying to assign weight to those types of variables.”
“Uh huh.” He said, nodding his head, but not understanding the formulas. He grasped the concepts, but not the math behind her work. “How old are you?”
“I’m 13.” She kept her chair turned around and attention on him.
“And you’re in what grade?” Matt pulled his eyes away from the graphs to look at her.
“I’m not in any grade anymore, but I would be a freshman in college right now. I don’t know where I would be, but I was starting last Christmas.”
“She was coming to UC to be in my medical program.” Paul yelled from the kitchen.
“No, I wasn’t, but I did get accepted early at Cincinnati.” She turned towards the kitchen. “Thank you, Paul.” She yelled to him.
“Okay, none of this makes sense to me. Not the charts, and not that you are only 13 and were already in college, but in the grand scheme of the last year? I guess nothing surprises me anymore.” Matt pulled out the chair next to her. “Can you teach me some of this? I’m not saying right now, but down the road? Just the weather.” He stuttered while pointing to the weather charts. “I mean, if it’s not too much trouble. I don’t want to hold you up or anything.”
“You couldn’t if you tried.” Paul said from the doorway. He came into the room to get ready for the day. “If I didn’t hold her up, you won’t either.” He went passed them into the living room.
Rebecca laughed at Paul. “Of course I can. It’s a good idea to have two people who can predict the weather. I’m not using many variables, just barometric pressure and temperature. Anyway, yes, it would be great to work with you.”
Matt continued to look at some of the paper on the table. “What’s all of this?”
“Well, depending on where we decide to go, I have recommended items we will need to take. The length of the list is a factor in the location we choose. I know, it’s kind of a chicken and the egg thing, but that’s what you’re looking at right now. If we go to Key West we need a lot of things, which actually hurts our chances of picking Key West as a location.”
“Let’s start with the weather.” He said to her. “I understand the weather.”
John walked into the room drying his hands with a towel. “Okay, are we ready for a fun day of house and bed hunting?”
“If we decide to put the kids upstairs, I say we use mattresses. Hanover is not our long term destination. I’m not busting my back, literally, to move bunk beds upstairs when four year olds can sleep on mattresses.” Paul stated.
“There are single beds up there already, one in each room. We never moved the wood frames, just stacked around and on top of them. All we need are mattresses. An adult can sleep in a single. We’ll put mattresses on the floor for their kids.”
“Done.” John agreed. “Where can we get mattresses?”
“The building next door was a sorority. There are at least twenty mattresses ready to be brought over here.” Rebecca told him.
“I guess that leaves house hunting.” John said, relieved he would not be moving bunk bed frames.
“Why don’t you and Rebecca find houses while Matt and I check the traps. Matt can relieve Greg of some of the burden if he knows where the traps are. We might check them twice a day when the new people get here. We’ll need a lot of food.”
“I’m up for that.” Matt said enthusiastically.
“We can throw a few lines in Occom Pond on our way back, see if we can grab a few fish and help out the fishing party.” Paul told him. “I doubt the holes have frozen over.”
Matt gave a thumbs up as he put on his new boots. Rebecca gave him a pair out of her stash. Craig and John wore the same style.
“Looks like you’re stuck with me.” John told Rebecca.
“We’ll be done and back in the warm cozy house first. We win.” She said, getting up from her chair to prepare for a walk around the neighborhood. “We broke into all of the homes for food. We looked in kitchens and avoided bedrooms for obvious reasons. Every house on Choate and around Occum is unlocked. Do we have a plan for previous occupants?” Rebecca could do a lot of things, but disposing of a dead and decaying body was not one of them.
“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. Maybe we will get lucky and find an empty house with five bedrooms with fireplaces. We can use the first floor dens with fireplaces in houses that have bodies. We aren’t staying in Hanover for the long haul. We just need a few rooms we can heat with wood and have space for a mattress.”
John looked at the ceiling, a habit he had when he thought. “Let me see, how many bedrooms do we need? Melanie can sleep with her three kids in a room upstairs. Todd and Emily can sleep at our old house in the bedroom with their kids. Bernie or Kelly can sleep upstairs with the three kids from New York.” John paused and was about to suggest that Rebecca take notes, but when he looked down, she was back in her chair, writing what he was saying.
“How many people are there?” She asked him.
“We have Avery and Meredith, two teenage girls who can share a room. Paul, Hank, and I can stick to the study.” John paced while he thought. “The rest of the people are singles; Ahmed, Kelly, Solange, Peter, Jamie, and Sal.” He stopped pacing. “Wow, that means we need seven more bedrooms.”
“We might not be the first back to the house.” Rebecca joked with him, standing next to the coat rack and slipping her arm in the sleeve of her coat. “Let’s confirm the houses on Choate Road, but from your head count and the rooms I know are available, we should be fine.”
“What do you mean confirm? Don’t we need to check?” John asked.
“I don’t know what you think Greg and I did this fall, but it wasn’t all fun and games. I know the streets and homes around this cottage like the back of my hand. We arrived in Hanover and tried your suggestion. I don’t know what is up with your old house. It’s cavernous in every room except the bedroom and den. We couldn’t live in that house if we tried.”
“Now that you mention it, we did wear a lot of sweaters growing up.” John went to the coat rack, slipped on his coat, put on his new boots, courtesy of Rebecca, and walked out the door. John kept the two way radio turned on and strapped to his belt in case Todd arrived early.
“So Rebecca, tell me about yourself.” John said as they walked the few feet to C
hoate Road. “How did a nice girl like you get mixed up with my son?”
Rebecca had been around adults her entire life, teachers, tutors, professors, people who came into her life because of her talents. She was confident around older people, and comfortable speaking with them on their level. It did not occur to her to view John in any other way but as an equal. She told him the whole story, everything, her life, her parents, meeting Greg, coming to Hanover.
John barely said a word. He understood why his son was so taken with this girl. She was extraordinary in the truest meaning of the word.
John also noticed that Paul and Hank already deferred to her for advice and information. She rattled off charcoal inventories, weather predictions, and models about their new colony site with ease and surety. Despite his desire to lead the new tribe, this young girl seemed to be the natural choice.
“I’m sorry about your parents.” John snuck in during a break in her story. “Greg lost his mother, my wife, at about the same time. I lost my parents a few years ago, but it’s not the same as losing them at the age of 13, and losing both parents at the same time none the less. I’m sorry.”
“I loved them, and they will always be with me. I was sad, but I understand, this is how it is. They are gone, I can’t change it, I have to move on, so I do.” They were two houses down from the family house on Choate road confirming one last bedroom. Two of the houses on the street were vacant and provided a master bedroom and a den with fireplaces. Two other houses had dens with fireplaces, and occupants on the second floor. “Greg was devastated about his mother. I know he’s still sad he didn’t get to say goodbye, that he wasn’t there.” She paused. “You know she is the reason we made it through the winter, right?”
“How do you mean?” John asked.
“If she hadn’t dragged Greg on that tour of Webster Cottage, hadn’t insisted that he receive culture while he was on vacation up here, instead of letting him just rot his brain, well, he would not have known or remembered about the cottage, and we would have struggled in some other house. We were living in the den of your old house. We checked all the homes on Occom Pond, and were coming back from a failed visit to a real estate office, when he suddenly remembered Webster. He thanked her right then, looked up at the sky and thanked her.”
