"How many times have I invited you to come out for a visit? You think I should enter some sort of cryogenic chamber when you leave and freeze myself, so absolutely no changes will occur around here between your visits? You’ve got a dynamic woman for a mother, you Lucky Girl.
These cabinets store the food from the garden. Some of it is dehydrated, some canned, but all of it is deliciously organic. In the pantry I also have a reserve of store-bought food and other items I go through regularly. It gives this old woman living by herself comfort to have a food cushion, just in case."
"So this is the preparation that you spoke about," Ela said.
They entered the two-bedroom, two-bath rancher on about half an acre located just out of town. The south side of the house faced the backyard through double French doors. The now enclosed yard, with a solid seven or eight-foot tall natural fence, made a peaceful view. The sandstone patio was comfortably furnished with padded, wrought iron lawn chairs and a matching table. A redwood pergola covered with climbing vines shaded the patio's sitting area.
"Again, wow Mom, very nice. You have spent my inheritance . . . but I like it, I really do." Then her gaze reached the backyard. "Where’s the yard, Mom? What’s all that stuff?"
"Fertilization and cultivation, in progress. Come on!"
Ela followed her mother into what had once been her domain as a kid, but now looked more like Farmville. As she did she found she could barely keep up with her disabled mother.
"I can remember you trying to sprout avocado seeds with toothpicks a couple of times. Oh, and then there was the time we were going to get rich growing pot," Ela said, tossing "the look" back to her mom. "But I’m just not pulling up any farming tendencies exhibited by you in all the years we’ve hung around each other. What brought you out of the closet and into the garden now?"
"Plants are much easier—and quieter—than raising kids. You’re proof enough of that," she said with a big smile and a wink. "Now, instead of yelling at you to not run with the scissors, I carry them out here and snip off any leaves that think they can shade out the competition. I rule my fiefdom with implements of mass veganism."
"That is not a word. Are you telling me you’re a vegetarian now, all of a sudden?"
"No, but I’m practicing to be one when meat becomes too expensive. Besides, it keeps me regular eating like a rabbit."
"Mom!" Ela said in the same way she said "yuck". "Is it true that all you old fogeys talk with each other about are your bowel movements?"
"No, but lack thereof gets quite a bit of discussion.
"MOM!"
Ela knew her mom just loved to banter and fiendishly set out little traps for the unwary to fall into. Her mother also knew how to make you want to end a discussion when it was going into an area she wanted to avoid.
The covered patio offered comfortable places to relax, so Con got them each a glass of iced tea, and they soaked in the view and the warmth of the late fall sun. Ela pulled out her smart phone and started checking for news about tomorrow’s scheduled meeting in Gateway.
The appointment for tomorrow was set for 10A.M., so they would need to leave about an hour earlier. Ela had confidence her mom would be able to entertain herself for an hour, maybe by looking for sunlight striking the canyon walls in just the right way for a picture or two; she had always loved photography. Then they could rejoin and have lunch.
Evening came, and with it a bit of jet lag for Ela, and she opted to go to bed early in her old room, "Hey, Mom."
No answer.
"Hey, Mom!"
"Yes dear, you don’t have to shout."
"Really? Might be some discussion needed on that subject."
"Now, Ela Nor, be nice to your old, disabled mother."
Using her first and middle names together meant her mother was serious, no matter how sweetly she uttered it. She went to her mom and gave her a hug. "My day has been two hours longer than yours. Waiting in airports and flying has worn me out, so I’m going to bed. It's so good to be home with you."
"Good night, Ela," she said watching her daughter walk to her old room.
"G’night, Mom," came Ela’s voice so mumbled that all Con heard was the last word.
"What’s in a name?" Con mused. "Everything coming from the right lips," she answered herself, thinking she had the best name of all. Mom.
[email protected]—Outbox (to encryption)
Message 1: To the following recipients: Ethos@uscybercom, Duenna@noaa, Reeve@nsa
Activation Warning
Time: 72 hours
Place: United States
Event: An extreme winter storm
The initial phase will be a multipronged cyber attack. A weaponized virus currently in place, but inactive, will be enabled. Communications and electrical grid control systems will begin to deteriorate.
The power going off will be the universal call to action for physical attacks against any infrastructure with the intent of prolonging outages, denying relief efforts, and inciting riots.
Day 2
Tess - Langford Creek, Chesapeake Bay, MD
S/V Robin barely swung on her slack anchor rode and made no movement other than an occasional, almost imperceptible, roll when a passing boater’s wake nudged the hull. With only an intermittent, slight breeze this had been the hottest day of Tess’s life, and tomorrow was supposed to top today's record.
Tess spent most of the sweltering afternoon in and out of the water on the shady side of the boat. When not doing that she poured chilled water or juice down her throat, trying to stay hydrated. Her appetite went to zilch for anything that wasn't cold and wet, which concerned her as the cruising lifestyle depended on having ample energy.
Aware of the statistic that each year, on average, more Americans died from hyperthermia than from tornados, hurricanes, floods, and earthquakes combined concerned her; she knew the conditions she was experiencing were causing fatalities in the cities around her. Staying hydrated was essential, especially with high humidity levels factoring into the heat index, and no air conditioning aboard. She hoped that her fluid intake was enough to offset the copious amount of sweat her body was futilely producing and then dripping off, without evaporating and cooling her.
Along with enduring the peak heat and humidity in the late afternoon, air quality had gotten so bad conditions aboard appeared unworldly for a time. Robin floated in a one-dimensional world of gray. Nothing but haze, no shape, nor variation of color, could be seen past the lifelines. The sky and the surface of the river visually merged, taking on the same dismal hue of the polluted air. Though she could hear the sounds of overhead jetliners and reverberating motorboats, her inability to see them through the surrounding grayness heightened the sense of isolation that came over her. Keeping her morale up seemed harder by the hour.
Reality has a way of cutting-in and interrupting the pleasure of lazy musings, bringing a chill along with the sudden awareness of danger, like a cliff-edge appearing out of the fog. Due to miscalculating her water consumption during the heat wave, replenishing Robin’s 72-gallon fresh-water tank hit the number-one spot on Tess's priority list after noticing how her usage had gone up sharply. Only a couple of day's worth of drinking water remained aboard, and she needed one of those days to get to a source of potable water.
Tess's idea of sailing to Chestertown the next morning was confirmed when she learned there was a reasonable chance of 8-10 knots of SE wind filling in midmorning. That amount of wind would be just enough for Robin, a light-air sailboat, to ghost along at a couple of knots. Tess much preferred sailing rather than motoring anytime, but especially in hot weather; using the inboard diesel engine would add heat to the already stifling cabin temperatures.
Before the boat could be moved Tess needed to take down the awnings and wind scoops, which she decided do after the sun set in the evening. For now she returned to her current project, gathering weather information for tomorrow's weather synopsis, and rereading her predictions, from this morning's re
port:
Today’s Weather:
For the East Coast and the eastern third of the U.S. today will be a repeat of yesterday, though likely hotter with air quality declining. Intermittent rain is possible late in the day for the Gulf Coast States.
Frigid air, after an extended stay over the polar region, poured overnight into the Polar Jet Stream’s downward kink that now sags over the western U.S. Southern Idaho residents got a chilly surprise with low temperatures hovering around 0ºF this morning.
Forecasts:
Forecasters are anticipating the frigid air invasion to eventually resemble a large "V." With the western leg over Washington State, the other leg will move eastward as the "V" deepens, passing over the Great Lakes in the next few days.
The bottom of the "V" will extend to the Four Corners region in the next 24 to 48 hours, then the arctic air mass will slowly move eastward as the blocking, high-pressure ridge moves to the south.
The East Coast heat wave will linger another two days, then there’s a high percentage chance of rain for the following three days. Flooding likely. Freezing or near freezing temps will follow, arriving next week.
Named today by The Weather Channel, Winter Storm Abe is now over northern Arizona, where afternoon and evening weather model-runs forecast the storm system to remain stalled for the next 36 hours or longer. Rain will start later today in the Four Corners area, turning to snow by tomorrow morning first at higher elevations. Snow levels will descend during the day to include lower valleys overnight.
Some meteorologists are seeing the atmosphere set up to deliver a winter storm with the potential to rival conditions recorded in both the 1993 Storm of the Century and the extreme cold front of 11-11-1911.
During that 1911 frontal passage it was recorded that in Chicago a railroad worker died of heat prostration in the morning before the front arrived. That afternoon, a few hours after the cold front passed, a man fell and froze to death before friends found him that evening. The 1911 front known as a fast, hard-hitting, short-duration event, advanced at nearly 40 mph, catching much of the population unprepared.
Abe is different, this system is slow moving and will be more challenging, even for people who have prepared, because of the length of time it will take to pass. Precipitation events will be long-duration with a high risk of local flooding. When the cold front approaches and passes ice and snow will develop.
In 2013 Winter Storm Atlas killed thousands of cattle in the Dakotas when days of rain were followed by a blizzard that left four feet of snow in places. Atlas was a relatively fast moving system compared to Abe. Abe's punch will be stronger, aimed further south over greater human population densities, and of longer duration.
Fair Winds from S/V Robin
Tess felt satisfied with the accuracy of her forecast, but also felt a sense of foreboding about the forecast itself. Current atmospheric data supported her earlier conclusion that the exaggerated loops of the Polar Jet Stream would remain stationary with no indication of moving in the next 48 hours. The worst possible scenario was setting up for western regions; Abe would strengthen and move slowly, if at all—a deadly combination. Record snowfall, freezing temperatures, and widespread power outages that could last weeks after the storm were uniting to contribute to a large death toll.
~~~
One hour after sundown, and two dives overboard later, Tess had removed and stowed all the awnings and wind scoops. She had a new lightweight geniker sail hoisted on its own furler, with lightweight sheets tied on, and then led back to the primary winches in the cockpit. Robin now sported a sail designed for tomorrow's light winds, raising the anchor was the only task left before leaving. S/V Robin stood ready to sail on the coming day's first breath of air.
Gus - Uncompahgre Plateau, CO
Anxious to start his first day of hunting Gus got up, and moving, in the dark, early enough he hoped, to see his hunting grounds revealed in the first blush of sunrise. While water for his coffee came up to temperature Gus busied himself gathering everything he needed for the day and storing it in his backpack.
His desire to be out of camp and actually looking for an elk added an involuntary urgency to his morning chores. Gus reminded himself to live in the moment, and not to give in to the anticipation of his overly active imagination. Steam and boiling water splashing out of the Kelly Kettle alerted him the water had heated more than enough to rehydrate his breakfast, the final task before leaving camp.
The ridge above camp was black against the early dawn sky. Once the sun got just a little higher, the side of the ridge he planned to climb would be in sunlight. He wanted to be up there before that happened. From up on the point he would be able to glass two parallel valleys for elk, other hunters, and better vantage points.
He took a deep, calming breath of the crisp, rarified mountain air, stretched to relax his tensed muscles and reined in his agitation. Gus knew the anticipation of the hunt was, at times, the best part, and he reminded himself to slow down and enjoy it. Rushing wouldn’t help and he made a mental note to strike it from the itinerary.
With his gear gathered and his headlamp on, Gus started climbing toward the top of the ridge. The pre-dawn air felt warmer than he expected. He wondered how the elk would react to the unseasonable warmth. Were they at higher altitude in the black timber? Or were they in the cooler valley bottom?
Although the men he worked with were all self-proclaimed experts, more than willing to educate anyone on how to bow hunt, and to endlessly argue tactics; he tried to keep it simple. His hunting plan started with a vantage point, good optics, and time. He planned to find the elk and only then put a hunt on them by patterning the elk, the terrain, and then trying to get ahead of them. Successful hunters pay strict attention to the wind, he reminded himself. If the elk got in the trail of his downwind scent his hunt would turn into a hike.
Getting within bow range is closer to a bull elk than is safe; if the bull decided to attack there would be little that Gus could do. He knew if he called a bull into range it would arrive intending to either kill the challenger, or breed the cow, depending on the call Gus emulated. Favorable to the hunter, the bull’s passions, whether fueled by rage or lust, could be so distracting to the bull that Gus hoped to make the shot before it realized what was happening.
For Gus, that meant getting inside of sixty yards for the shot to be even possible. With all the practice time he had spent shooting at forty yards, Gus was deadly on targets—but on a live bull elk? That was the central question he hoped to have an answer for in the next six days.
[email protected]—Inbox (decrypted)
Message 1: From Ethos@uscybercom
USCYBERCOM sources report no alerts, security remains at their normal "Heightened" level.
Message 2: From Duenna@noaa
Internal memo warns of strained municipal water systems in the Southeast and Mid Atlantic states due to the heat wave.
Andy & Jennifer - East Texas
The grove of trees behind Hill Top Quick Stop proved to be a good spot to camp. Old trees and some underbrush masked his camp from the view of anyone around the store, and it was far enough from the road that traffic noise hadn't bothered him. He had gotten a much needed, restful sleep.
A rain shower cooled the predawn air and awakened him. Not one to waste such an opportunity, while darkness still lingered under the trees; Andy found his container of soap and stepped out of the tent into a cool morning shower. The steady rain cleansed the effects of the heat wave from both Andy and the air.
Clean clothes and breakfast put a smile on Andy’s face as he contemplated a plan for the day. The prior days of heat and humidity had taken a toll on his enthusiasm to get back on the road; a day of rest in camp sounded appealing. Talking to Jennifer and asking for permission to stay another day, sounded even more appealing. He would ask if she could use his help around the store in return for the campsite.
Well after daylight Andy walked to the store thinking about a large cup of
coffee, and maybe a donut to go with it. The cereal and banana he had eaten earlier qualified for the "healthy" part of breakfast, so dessert was in order. Every meal should be followed by dessert, in his opinion; breakfast especially.
A young gal Andy didn’t recognize, with "Kim" monogrammed on her blouse, worked at the register when he got there with his coffee and a couple of sweet rolls; the donuts were already gone. After paying Andy asked and found out that Jennifer would be in at noon, so he headed back to camp with his edible treasures, and a paperback borrowed from a shelf in the store with used-books for trade.
Awhile before noon, Andy was staring at an empty plastic bag snagged in the brush near his tent when he decided to be proactive on securing another night’s stay. An hour later the grove and parking lot around the store had been picked clean of trash when Jennifer drove up.
She gestured at the now policed area around the store, "You're still here. And what’s all this?"
"Hey Jennifer," Andy answered. "The accommodations are so nice, and I’m still beat from the heat, so I'd like to reserve another night. All this is just a blatant bribe."
"For paying in advance it's a deal." The rain had started again; Jennifer looked up at Andy and gave him a nod to follow her in out of the rain.
Andy followed; congratulating himself for how well his plan had gone, so far.
[email protected]—Outbox (to encryption)
Message 1: To the following recipients: Ethos@uscybercom, Duenna@noaa, Reeve@nsa
Municipal drinking water systems are being stressed by the heat wave. Attacks against water systems now authorized. Open every faucet, break every fire hydrant, and drain or contaminate every water storage source possible.
Con & Ela - Unaweep Canyon, CO
The next morning as Con backed the car out of the garage, "I'm sure you’ve been reading about the drought, but have you also been reading about how much water is wasted during the process of hydraulic fracturing, also known as fracking?" Ela asked, her mind on her upcoming meeting.
SURVIVING ABE: A Climate-Fiction Novel Page 4
