by Brad Manuel
“I do, it just seems funny, very Noah’s ark. We have a dog, chickens, goats, cows, pigs, and people, and we’re all flying to paradise.”
“So we hope.” John told him. “So we hope.”
Matt won match point. John screamed, “yes!”
It was early in the tournament, Paul turned to his brother. “Have you seen Avery play?”
“No.” John said, standing up to congratulate his son. “Why? She as good as Matt?”
“Save me a seat if they play each other. I want to make sure I’m next to you for that one.” Paul put his hand on John’s back and gave him a pat.
John looked at the board. “Actually, I’m playing her next. Maybe you want to stick around and watch me?”
Paul smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it, John, wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Paul sat back down and watched the match. It lasted less than ten minutes, 21 – 3. John’s three points came on Avery’s double faults.
The temperature rose in the late afternoon. The snow became a drizzling rain. Fog and mist enveloped the roads and landscape. A pot of moose chili bubbled on the sun porch woodstove and cornbread baked quickly in a cast iron skillet..
“Do you have any idea how tired of moose meat we are going to be in another few days.” Hank ate his chili next to Kelly.
“Well, it’s food, it’s good food, and there aren’t any moose in Hawaii, so realize this is the last time in your life you will ever have moose meat. I’m upset we wasted the smell of cornbread and chili on a screened porch.” She took another bite. The chili was delicious, regardless of it being the sixth meal in a row of red meat. “It might be the last red meat you have in a long time too. There are pigs, fish, and fowl in Hawaii. I know there are cows, but cows don’t go feral as well as the other animals. I’ll try to breed, but, you know.”
“So you’re telling me to eat up.” Hank pushed another spoonful into his mouth.
“More telling you to stop complaining.” Kelly laughed as she watched a fake smile spread across Hank’s face while he ate. They worked together at the dairy farm over the last few days, getting to know each other better. She was fast friends with the older man. They both enjoyed punk music in its many versions. Double Nickels on the Dime by The Minutemen was Kelly’s favorite album. Hank had nothing but respect for her after she told him.
“When do you think we’ll leave? I heard the plane works and is full of fuel.” Kelly switched topics.
“I don’t know. You and I have to get those cows healthy. Probably another week or two, right?” He ate some of his cornbread.
“Yeah, I’d say. They don’t have to be 100%, but I want them a little stronger before we move them. The pigs are probably fine, they’ll sleep like Hubba. No worries.” She paused. “So I’m the hold up, or do you think people still want to stay and relax?”
“A little of both. Don’t rush, we have nothing but time. Did you hear the latest plan?” Hank tore into his second triangle of bread. “To eject pamphlets from the plane, fly over most of the major cities?”
“I’ve heard pieces. If we can make it happen, sounds good to me. I’m one of the people voicing concerns about the small size of our tribe, and how we need more young people. Once I get to Hawaii, I don’t plan on coming back. If this helps us ease our conscience, possibly rescue some people by setting them on a path towards us, I’m all for it.”
“Yeah, I agree on all fronts.” Hank finished his meal. “There’s cake tonight, want me to grab you a piece?” Pockets of people ate and spoke in groups around the Choate Road mansion.
“Who doesn’t like cake?” Kelly asked rhetorically.
Todd watched the rain wash away the snow. Emily came up behind him and slipped her arm around his back. He looked through a window in the den converted into Hank and Paul’s bedroom. The fire smoldered behind them.
“Whatcha thinkin’?” She asked him.
“That this is the last snowfall I will ever see. I always thought, or dreamed at least, that you and I would spend some of our retirement in New England, that we would enjoy the leaves changing color, that our grandchildren would go sledding on the same hill I used as a boy.” He turned to look at her, kissing her. “But I will have grandchildren, so I’m not sad. I’m just enjoying the last snow.”
She put her other arm around his front, hugging him from the side. She watched the rain with her husband. “You know, I was never going to retire to New England, right?”
“Yes.” He said back.
“I hate the cold.”
“I know.”
“I love you.” Emily squeezed him tightly, “I love you so much. It was a great idea for us to come up here. We found family and new friends. You saved us.”
“I know.” He said jokingly and without modesty. “I did it for selfish reasons too. I didn’t know at the time why I was sending us here. It was a bad idea, believing we could live in Hanover forever, but it has let me say goodbye to my town. It’s brought us friends and a path to our new life. I can leave Hanover in a few weeks remembering my childhood, my boyhood home fondly. I’ll always remember it like this, beautiful.” He turned and kissed her again. “And I’ll always remember our last snowfall.”
Todd smiled as he turned and looked back out the window.
53
The weather turned warm, just as Rebecca forecast.
Antonio was able to hotwire a car battery to the ramp extension near their airplane. He moved the walkway and attached it to the side of the plane. He would pull it back a few feet just before takeoff, and use a board to walk across the gap.
With the ramp attached, and a conveyor truck in place to load the cargo/luggage hold, tribe members made trips to Manchester to load items. They packed seeds, fishing gear, feed for the livestock, rice, pasta, canned goods. They took clothing and shoes, blankets and sheets, bleach, water, soda, and batteries.
Peter gave parameters on weight, but the load limit he set was high. He, Jamie, and Hubba never left Hanover.
Seats were removed from coach to accommodate the animals. Metal fencing was installed to keep the different species corralled.
Dan was the only tribe member to spend time in Hawaii. He went every year for vacation, but his family stayed on Maui, with only a few day trips to Kauai. He admitted that he did not know much about Kauai specifically, other than seeing a Walmart, walking around a few downtowns, and remembering there were two different climates. The north was green and cool, the south was sunny and hot.
“Not much help, am I?” He asked Rebecca as she read through books and asked him questions about the area.
“No, but that’s okay. We’ll figure it out. It’s great to have you as a resource.”
Tribe members not packing and traveling to Manchester fulfilled the daily chores necessary to keep the group alive. They fished, purified water, cooked bread, and figured out new and inventive ways to serve moose.
Paul, having tired of moose more quickly than the rest, decided to make moose jerky from as much of the remaining meat as he could. He dried and packaged relentlessly. Jerky was easy to store, had a decent shelf life, and it was light in weight. It took him the entire two weeks, but he managed to “jerkify” as he called it, the last one and a half moose legs.
He personally drove the hundred bags of moose jerky to Manchester.
Peter confirmed their plan to spread notes across the country. They would stuff the fliers, thousands of them, near the landing gear. Peter would fly low into the city, let the gear down, and the pamphlets would drop to the ground.
They could repeat the procedure as necessary, loading the wheel well in flight.
A favorite pastime became running the copiers at the local print shop. A gas generator powered the industrial copier. They created more than 100,000 fliers, all shipped to Manchester and placed near the landing gear wheel well.
After a visit to an office supply warehouse in Lebanon, Avery and Meredith took an added step of laminating several hundred copies of the note. Rebecca took gr
eat pleasure in calling them nerds.
They planned to fly over Chicago, St. Louis, Dallas, Houston, San Antonio, San Diego, Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Seattle before turning for the Hawaiian Islands.
The note was written in English and Spanish: 20+ survivors, men, women, and children. We are starting a colony on the island of Kauai, Hawaii. Join us. We will return on August 1st to the San Diego Airport to meet survivors. Gather as many people as possible.
Hank joked that he wanted to include a phone number and email address.
John toyed with adding the line ‘No assholes allowed.’
Days were productive, busy, yet relaxing. If people wanted to take a day off from packing, loading, or working, they did.
Jamie was not strong enough to load the plane. She helped with meals, fed the animals, and made herself useful. She read stories to the children at school, giving Emily much needed breaks.
Ten days after the snowstorm, it was close to 60 degrees, and the sun shone brightly. Light puffy clouds drifted across the pale blue New England sky. Kelly and Hank arrived at the RV for lunch, after spending another night at the dairy farm.
“Milk!” She said, jumping out of the pickup truck and announcing their latest prize to the group. “Three gallons of real milk! The cows are ready to go.” She walked to the tables near the grill in front of the main house and placed a large metal milk jug on top.
Todd turned to John and said three simple words.
“Time to go.”
He put his arms out and patted his brother and wife on their backs before walking to the table to congratulate Kelly and Hank for their hard work.
John looked at Emily. She nodded. He turned to Solange. She wore a smile on her face.
“You heard him. It is time.” Solange walked towards the table to have a glass of cow’s milk.
Most of the preparation for the flight was done. The plane was loaded with supplies. The coach section was converted into a barn with pens and feed for the animals. There were 100,000 copies of their flier ready to distribute.
Even with the massive transfer of supplies to the plane, the Hanover camp did not suffer from lack of food or clothing. The only key piece of equipment missing was Todd’s pizza oven, forcing him and Ahmed to use the commercial wood-fired oven in town.
“Let’s talk timeframe and logistics.” Hank sat at a large table in the restaurant that night. The sunny start to their day turned cloudy, and a light rain drizzled outside. The tribe enjoyed brick oven baked fish, French bread baguettes, and roasted canned asparagus.
“Kelly and I will make sure the animals get to Manchester and on the plane. We measured the width of the cows, and since they are all pretty skinny right now, they will make it through the jet doorway with room to spare.” Hank prepped a trailer to bring the five cows, one bull, and 8 hogs to the airport. He and Kelly would get them on the plane, sedate the cows and hogs, tranquilize the bull, and be ready to go at least an hour before the proposed takeoff.
“I don’t want them on the plane too long before us. You know they are going to stink up the place.” Melanie did not like the smell of animals. It was a necessary evil for the trip, but she wanted to minimize the problem.
“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of it.” Hank assured her. “Sorry a few hours of smell might save your life with food and dairy down the road.” Sarcasm was common among tribe conversations, particularly involving Hank.
“I’m paying for a first class ticket. I expect an odorless flight.” She smiled.
“I’ll keep my animals under control, you just keep your kids out of my section.” Hank knew it was going to be more difficult to entertain the children for twelve hours, than keep the animals at bay.
“We all want to go, right?” John asked. “So let’s go. Two days. We’ll run through our checklist of supplies tomorrow, and leave the next day.” John turned to Peter. Peter was the lynchpin, the key to their journey. He made the final decision.
“I’m ready. The plane checks out. The supplies are well under weight even with the livestock. I feel good, strong, well rested. Let’s fly.”
The group did not cheer. They nodded in agreement. Their die was cast. They were leaving Hanover, even though it had become comfortable over the last three weeks.
The mutiny of young people planning to stay behind in North America was quelled by the flier dropping plan. Other ideas emerged to grow the tribe. Ahmed volunteered to remain in North America, zig zagging across the country until August 1st when he would meet the rescue plane in San Diego. Antonio and Meredith offered to stay behind with him.
Rebecca met with them. “Ahmed, even your limited understanding of mathematics must understand that three people represents more than 10% of the current tribe. What if you break down and cannot make the August 1st deadline in San Diego? What if the tribe makes a water landing or lands on a highway landing in Hawaii and cannot find another plane?”
Ahmed respected intelligence and rational arguments. He could not refute Rebecca’s final statement. “The best and safest way to increase the tribe’s numbers, without risking our current members, is to drop leaflets across the country, have all of us fly over, and have Peter return in August.”
“I’ll fly until the fuel goes bad or we run out, but we’ll find more young people for you.” Peter assured them.
Peter was in his late sixties, and while strong for his age, he knew his limitations. He used the ten days to develop a serviceable co-pilot. Flying a plane for twelve hours was not something he wanted to try, particularly with a potentially tricky landing on the backend of the flight. He would need bathroom breaks, and a nap. He wanted Antonio to sit in the cockpit while Peter curled up and slept for a few minutes, possibly an hour.
Antonio was mechanical and understood gauges and dials. He knew about longitude and latitude beyond the lines on a globe. His years of deep sea fishing with his father taught him to trust readings rather than his eyes out the window. Antonio could read the instruments, adjust their heading when needed, and keep his cool if any lights came on.
Peter took him to Lebanon airport and sat in the cockpit of the largest available plane, an eighteen seat turbo prop.
“Okay Tony, this will be my version of a pool certification for SCUBA diving you might receive at a resort. It’s going to be fast. It’s going to be effective. It by no means certifies you to fly a plane without me, and you will most likely forget everything you’ve learned a week after we land in Hawaii.” Antonio nodded. “I am going to take off and land the plane. We can talk about landing, but if there is an issue with me on the way over, and you have to try and land a 777 without me?” Peter paused. “Yeah, let’s just move on from that scenario. The other thing I want to drum into your head, the plane is going to be on autopilot. The 777 has a system that is advanced, safe, and almost foolproof. It could potentially land the plane for us if needed. I will show you how that works when we get up in the air, but I will be landing the plane myself. All I want you to learn over the next few hours is what to do if the autopilot fails and I am asleep or in the bathroom.” He paused again for emphasis. “The autopilot is not going to fail, it just won’t, but in the one in a million chance that it does, I need you to be able to grab the controls and keep us in the air. That’s all we’re trying to do here, nothing more. You shouldn’t feel any pressure to have to learn how to fly a plane or land a plane. Please just focus on being able to grab the handle and keep us steady until I can get back.”
Antonio nodded again. His typical swagger and verbal bravado was noticeably absent. “I’ll say this a few more times, just to make you comfortable. You are completely unnecessary. The autopilot on these planes is incredible. Other than taking the plane out to the end of the runway, I am almost unnecessary. The computer can do everything. I’m the backup for the computer, you’re the backup for me. Double redundancy, and you’re the redundant backup. It never gets to you. Got it?”
Antonio listened, took some notes, and quizzed himself t
hroughout the week. He had fun taxiing the plane around the little airport, paying attention to which levers did what. Peter was confident he could handle the plane for the minute it might be necessary.
Peter sat with Antonio at dinner. “You ready?”
“Ready to do nothing?” Antonio replied.
“Exactly.” Peter grinned. “You catch on quickly.”
Greg and Rebecca left the dinner together, Greg holding a large umbrella in his left hand, his right arm swung around Rebecca to keep her warm. He enjoyed holding her. They left to spend the night at the coach house. One last night alone in Hanover, the way they started their journey.
“I’m getting excited about the trip.” Rebecca told him. “I know you think I’m sad to leave New England, my home, but I’m not. I’m excited to start something fresh.”
“Really? Aren’t you scared?” He was scared. Scared of the flight, scared of what they might find or not find on the islands. His stomach did back flips with increasing speed over the last week.
“I’m not.” Her left arm was around his waist. “These are good people, great people. We are going to build a fantastic tribe that can accomplish anything, overcome any shortcomings we might find.” She continued talking as they walked.
“I’m a planner, you know that, you probably think I am uncomfortable in a situation I can’t control or plan, and normally you’d be right, but not today. I’m ready. I’m an optimist for the first time in my life. I’m looking at the next week as a positive, not a set of odds that I need to calculate.” Rebecca’s voice was filled with enthusiasm.
“Your family created this excitement for me. They are so full of hope, so full of life. They are taking this journey by the horns, accepting the downside that might occur, and meeting it head on. I sound like a sports metaphor for the first time in my life. I never talk or think like this, but today? We’re ready, we as a group, we as a couple, me as a person. Ready to go.”
“Wow.” Greg replied after her speech. “It’s hard to argue with you when you have this much passion. I’m scared, scared like I was when I decided to leave the dorm last year. I have no idea how this trip is going to go, the actual trip over to the island, and the life we create. I am going to do it. I’m getting on the plane. It’s the right thing to do, but I am going to hold your hand when the wheels go up.”
