by Brad Manuel
Hank turned to Paul, “remember that dairy farm we kept talking about going to after the thaw? The Hummer should be able to brave the trek, let’s hit it tomorrow.”
“The farm that ran tours? You expect to find something?” Todd knew the place. He took Jay and Brian there in the summer. The farm was a staple of his family visits to Hanover.
“If we don’t find animals there, we can check the hundred dairy farms in and around here. Maybe some of the cows found hay stores. Maybe the grass poked through the snow in spots. I bet something survived.” Hank was convinced he could find livestock. “We should at least try.”
“I’m up for a trip.” Paul told his brother.
“I’d like to come along. I can help with any sick animals. I did a rotation on a dairy farm. I know how to get dairy cows producing again.” Kelly looked at Todd. “We could be swimming in milk pretty quickly. One healthy cow, milked a few times each day, would give us four to six gallons of milk. That’s just one cow.”
“What are the odds we find a cow producing that much milk?” Hank asked her, skepticism in his voice.
“Depends on everything you just said. If we do find a cow, we can get one producing with the right nutrition and food. If we find a few cows? We’ll have enough milk and cheese for our group, more than enough. You have to realize, cows today have been bred to give enough milk for millions of people. When you only have twenty people to feed? One cow would overwhelm us with milk.”
“Speaking of feeding twenty some odd people, I’m going to grind some meat and make sausage for breakfast and dinner tomorrow.” Hank gave the people on either side of him pats on the back as he headed towards the basement.
“I can help with that.” Jamie called after him.
“I am going to get an early jump on dinner.” Todd announced. “I’ll light a fire in the oven and start on the bread. Fish stew is on the menu this evening. I want to make sure we mix up how we serve the trout.”
“I’ll join you. I can fillet a trout like nobody’s business. You leave too many bones.” Ahmed rubbed his hands in the fire, almost standing in the flames during the conversation. He, like the other New York people, was rail thin, and had a hard time keeping warm.
John, Solange, Peter, Paul, and Kelly remained in the living room.
“It’s a little after three. I’m going to catch 40 winks. I’ll need my strength for tomorrow.” Peter said as he pushed himself out of his chair.
“What is tomorrow?” Solange asked him.
“You, John, and I are going to the airport in the next town to look at airplanes. I will show you what to look for at the airports Manchester and Boston. We might have what we need already, and a plane could be a few miles away.” He waved, taking his coat and heading out the door to his bedroom in another house.
“No chance we can use a plane out of Lebanon. They are all turbo props. We’d have to land every hour to refuel, and it would only fit about twelve of us. It will be good for us to see what we need to look for in Manchester and Boston. I’m hoping Manchester will suit our needs.” John grabbed the end of a couch. “Hey, help me move this in front of the fire?”
Paul grabbed the end, and the two men moved the couch to the fire. They repeated the procedure with a second couch. “Dinner’s being made. Firewood is being collected. The kids are in school. I heard a vote about relaxing for the next two weeks. I might take another nap, or at the very least relax in front of the fire. I have a busy next few days.”
John kicked off his shoes and sat on one of the couches. He looked at the fire and the pile of wood in a bin next to it and nodded. “Should be enough to keep me warm and happy for a few hours.”
Solange and Kelly sat on the other couch. “You do not expect to find cows alive, do you? How can a cow live through winter with no building or food?”
“They are animals. They survive. It’s what they do. I bet a couple figured it out. I really do.” Kelly was confident they would find cows, cows that were alive and would serve them well.
The women started a long discussion, only part of which was heard by John. He was soon snoring next to them.
Paul was not tired, but he did not have anything to do. He walked back to the cottage to let Hubba out and read a book.
44
The Lebanon Airport was a bust. Not only were the planes too small to accommodate a group of their size, the planes only had a short fuel range. There was a fuel truck in Lebanon, but it was a small truck with limited capacity, not enough fuel to fill a large jet.
“It’s a start.” Peter said enthusiastically. “We have fuel, and we could drive this truck down to Manchester or Boston if needed. It works. We can use it to fill a jet if necessary. It will take a few loads from this tank to fill a jet, but we can do it. Not an optimal solution, but a solution.” Peter was energized.
Peter told stories on the way back from the airport, old war and flying stories. He lived an interesting life. His wife was able to join him on many of his longer layover trips. They enjoyed traveling the world. He was not a chatty person, and his main point in telling the stories was to relay that he knew how to fly. He was good, and he could take them where they wanted to go. He needed the right equipment, and a whole bunch of fuel, but he would get them to Hawaii. Peter learned a long time ago that one of a pilot’s jobs was sell confidence and security to passengers.
“How are we supposed to get into a plane that is parked? Is there a handle on the door? And how are we supposed to tell if it’s a 777? Are there markings on the plane?” John drove back from Lebanon.
“The easiest way for you to tell, a 737 has ten wheels, the 777 has fourteen. There are always two for the front set, that tiny arm that drops down? The back of the 777 will have six on each side, and the 737 will have four on each side.”
“Is that it?” Solange wrote down the tire numbers.
“The 777 is huge. It will be much, much bigger than any of the other planes. You’re talking about a plane that can fly twice as far. It’s going to be enormous next to the 737. Count the wheels, but really, you won’t have to worry about figuring it out.” Peter gave Solange a confident look. “Look for airlines from Asia, those will be 777’s. Asia, the middle east, they used the big planes. Those planes should be in Manchester and Logan. I followed the airlines when the rapture began. Everything was grounded. We didn’t want the plague over here, and they didn’t want the plague over there. Instead of saying ‘everyone get home, this is your last flight,’ countries cancelled everything, didn’t even let the pilots bring the airplanes home.”
“Do not forget South America, they might have big planes too.” Solange smiled at the older man, showing him her continental pride.
“You’re right, there might be a Brazilian airplane at Logan. Look,” Peter was sitting in the front seat, and swung his arm over the back to give attention to both John and Solange. “There are going to be planes there, at both airports. Don’t worry. We’ll be able to move anything that’s in our way for takeoff. Our big question is fuel. How much will we find, and will it start the engines. I’m not worried about whether a 777 is available. I bet there are ten of them at Logan, and at least two of them in Manchester, maybe more.”
They drove through the looted and destroyed stretch of Lebanon. “Reminds me of Philly.” John said to them. “Amazing it is so close to Hanover, yet there is no looting there.”
“Just like the countries, Hanover didn’t let Lebanon in.” Peter turned back around and faced forward. “The world was pretty selfish towards the end. Love thy neighbor became avoid thy neighbor.”
They were quiet as they remembered the rapture. It was easy to not think about it as they moved forward with their lives, but impossible to forget as they looked at empty and vandalized streets.
“So,” John broke the silence. “Which truck should we take tomorrow? Our suburban or the new lime green Hummer? Both have the capacity to bring people back, but I think the Hummer sends more of a message. Makes me seem a little �
�cooler’ than the suburban does.”
“I can pull off the Hummer. You cannot.” Solange told him.
“What? Are you kidding me? I can certainly pull off the Hummer.” John looked towards Peter for confirmation. Peter shook his head.
“What? You too?”
“John, you are a great man, but if I see you getting out of a truck that color, well, I would think you’re having a mid-life crisis or you borrowed your wife’s car.” Peter put his arm on John’s shoulder. “I see her getting out? I whistle.”
The rest of the five minute drive home was spent arguing, John futilely defending his ability to ‘pull off’ a lime green car. Peter and Solange laughed at him. They drove up to the main house, and John got out and walked over to Matt.
“Matt. I’m thinking of taking the Hummer tomorrow. You think I can pull it off?”
“Ha! No.” Matt tossed a nerf football with Craig, Avery, Meredith, and Greg.
“Dad? Come on, you are more of a suburban guy. Actually,” Greg looked around. “A Volvo sedan.”
Everyone nodded.
“I can’t believe this. Solange, we are taking that Green Hummer, and I am driving.”
“Okay, but if we find people, they will believe it is my car.”
Ahmed, Hank, and Paul pulled up two hours later. They were grinning from ear to ear.
“We found cows. We found quite a few animals actually, some cows, pigs. Most of the animals starved, but a few were able to find enough food. They are thin and weak, but Kelly thinks she can save almost all of them.” Hank beamed as he relayed the story. “We found some hay and grain that was not rotted, and we fed the animals. Kelly decided to stay. There was a farm house with a woodstove and plenty of canned food.”
“Milk! Can you believe it? We have cows for milk! There’s even a bull! We should be able to breed a herd.” Paul crossed his arms in triumph.
The tribe enjoyed an Italian feast that night. Despite his previous concerns about the volume it took, Todd made goat’s milk Ricotta cheese. They grilled Hank’s moose sausage and cooked it in jarred marinara sauce with red wine. The pasta was finished in the sauce, and the entire dish was sprinkled with the homemade cheese.
The meal of homemade bread, sausage, pasta, sauce, and cheese lifted their spirits. The conversation was fun and lively. A warm breeze blew from the South, and the temperatures stayed in the forties the entire evening.
Spring was coming early to New England.
Rebecca told stories of watching plane after plane depart from Manchester at the height of the rapture. “There has to be fuel there, a lot of fuel, and I know there are Southwest planes.”
“Those are 737’s, they can go about 3,000 miles.” Peter explained. “We would get to San Fran on fumes, then have to refuel and could get to Hawaii from San Fran. We’d have to find gas. What we are looking for, and what I need John and Solange to find if possible, is a big, big plane, a 777. We could also make it on a 767, that will give us about 1,000 miles or so to spare, but the triple 7? We could fly to Hawaii and back on a full tank of fuel.”
“So you’re saying we could get lost for a little while.” Emily asked. “but if we take one of the smaller ones, we can’t get lost for very long.”
“Em, we can’t get lost, period, but if we are in a 777, we’ll have enough fuel to hit land on the other side of Hawaii. If we aren’t in one? It will be close.” The table went silent as they all digested their food and the thought of being lost high in the sky over the Pacific ocean.
45
John and Solange pulled away from Hanover at 6am the next morning.
They found plane fuel in Lebanon. Their group had livestock. Everything was breaking their way.
John road the accelerator hard on the almost snow free road, and they made the 65 mile drive to the Manchester, New Hampshire International Airport in 45 minutes. Two weeks earlier it was dark at 7am. Today the sun was over the mountains and warm light flooded the canyons and valleys. John stopped the car at the entrance to the airfield. He and Solange looked at an arch that spanned the three lane entrance, “Welcome to Manchester Airport.” The airport sat on a plateau at the top of a hill. John and Solange sat in the running car at the bottom of the hill.
John landed and took off from this airport dozens of times, visiting his parents throughout the years. He knew the area well.
“There’s a big stuffed moose in the lobby.” He told Solange. “It was a clean and well run airport.”
“I have never been this far north. New York City was as cold as I ever wanted to be.” She replied.
“Should we just drive around the terminal? Bust through any gates we need to, and get over to the runways?” John looked at her with shrugged shoulders.
“I do not want to get out until we need to check the fuel trucks.” The South American gave a faux shiver of her shoulders.
Rebecca told them about seeing planes take off in September, and how actively the military utilized this airport during the rapture. She did not go to the airport after the plane traffic stopped, and did not know the condition of the area.
A green military jeep sat at the bottom of the hill, parked in the middle of the road leading up to the airport. It looked like a checkpoint. There was a second jeep blocking the road leading out of the airport.
“It looks like they turned this place into a military base.” John pulled around the checkpoint and headed up the hill. The road spiraled up the slope before straightening out at the top for a clear view of the terminal and the airstrip.
Large green military trucks littered the terminal pickup and drop off loop and were visible on the airfield.
“They must have been moving supplies and people. Look at all these transport trucks.” John pointed his finger and moved it across the landscape. “What are there? 30? 40 trucks? This looks like a military base, not a civilian airport.”
The left lane was clear for John to pull the Lime Green truck around the abandoned military transports.
“You know, you’re not allowed to park in the passenger drop off lane. They are very strict about that.” John threw Solange a smile.
She was not in a joking mood. The images of the Metropolitan Museum were fresh in her mind, and she anticipated a battle scene similar to the one in New York. She looked for bodies, broken terminal windows, fire damage, but no carnage appeared as they crept around the glass terminal building.
The airport consisted of two buildings, a terminal, which they passed on their right, and a parking garage to their left. The garage appeared to be a standard parking structure, five levels of concrete built for short term parking near the terminal.
A small parking lot for hourly or employee parking sat between the road and the garage. Large green military tents covered the open lot.
“It looks like MASH over there.” John said out loud.
“What does that mean?” Solange asked him.
He stopped the slow moving car, slid it into park, and turned towards her. “What do you mean, ‘what does that mean?’ MASH, the television show.”
“I have not seen it before.” She continued to scan the area, not giving him her full attention.
“You’ve never seen or heard of the show MASH? It was the biggest show in the world. More people watched the finale than, like anything ever.”
“When was that?” She asked, facing him.
“I guess it ended in 1983 or ’84.” He calculated her age in his head.
“I was born in 1985.” She smiled. “I am also from Ecuador. It might not have been shown in my country.”
“I forgot how young you are. But seriously, you should know what MASH is.”
“If it makes you feel better.” John’s hand was resting on the gear shift handle between the two front seats as she moved her hand over his. “I do not think of your age either.” She leaned towards him and kissed him on the mouth. Her eyes were closed as she leaned into him. He kissed her back, but his eyes stayed open.
It was not a lo
ng kiss, but it had passion and meaning.
Solange pulled away from him, keeping her face a few inches from his. She opened her eyes. “Do you think we should walk through the tents or terminal now that we know this is a military base?” She smiled with satisfaction.
John was in shock, and his mind was no longer at the airport.
“John, do you think we should explore the situation, or focus on finding airplanes and fuel?”
He looked into her brown eyes and beautiful face, still inches from his. “Why did you do that?”
“I am sorry,” she started.
“No, no, I am glad you kissed me. I just didn’t expect it, and I don’t understand.” Her hand still rested on his. He released his grip on the gear shift and interlocked their fingers.
“I am a woman who takes control of a situation. I like you. I am attracted to you. If this last year has taught me anything, it is that life is fragile, and we must seize opportunity. When you announced you were going to Boston, I decided it was my opportunity to show you how I feel.”
They held hands and shared the moment before John replied. “As easy as it would be for me to kiss you back right now, we have a job to do. We can continue the conversation about ‘us’ throughout this trip. Let’s focus on the task at hand?” John squeezed her hand before turning to look at the tents. “Let’s get out and walk around. It’s 42 degrees. It’s practically summer temperatures in New Hampshire.”
They slipped on their winter coats, gloves, and hats. John left the car running as they exited the truck and walked towards the tents. As soon as they opened their doors they could smell rotting death. The stench was similar to the Central Park grave.
“It’s getting stronger the closer we get to the parking garage.” John pointed as he wrapped a scarf tightly around his nose and mouth to minimize the impact.
