by Joe Nobody
Diana’s gaze wandered off for a moment. “You should have seen her the first time we visited Sheriff Watts. She did a great job there, too. I was scared to death, convinced we were all going to be shot right on the spot. Terri hopped right out of the car and started negotiating.”
“Can’t hurt to ask her.”
“They want you to do what?” Bishop’s expression projecting total confusion.
“They want me to be the ambassador for the two towns,” answered Terri.
Bishop dropped off the makeshift chin-up bar, the attempt to exercise without utilizing his left arm already causing frustration. He could tell Terri was excited about the offer – she hadn’t immediately scolded him for not taking it easy. “What exactly does this job entail?”
“They want me to coordinate between the two towns and take care of any outside business that might crop up. They both said I had done a wonderful job with the Beltran cattle and negotiating with Sheriff Watts.”
Nodding, Bishop said, “I can’t disagree with that; you did a great service to everyone.”
Terri ambled to a nearby chair and relaxed in its seat, clearly lost in thought. “I feel strong most days, Bishop. I feel like I could do the job. So far, being pregnant isn’t causing a lot of health issues.”
Bishop was skeptical. “That position sounds like there would be a butt-load of stress involved. I’m all for your supporting the family and helping out the communities, but not at the expense of my son.”
Terri’s face became stern, “You mean our daughter?”
Dismissing the potential banter with his hand, Bishop grinned at his wife. “Twins. Now, back to this diplomatic role, tell me what you’re thinking. I can hear the wheels turning all the way over here.”
“I want to do it. Ever since those men kidnapped me, I’ve wanted to get involved and make things better. I think this is a perfect opportunity. In the hospital at Fort Bliss, the Colonel visited me a few times while you were snoozing. He told me that I could run and hide from the political beast, or I could get involved and fight for the American dream. You basically said the same thing when we talked about it. I have decided to get involved – I have decided to fight.”
Terri pulled her laptop out of a shoulder bag and began typing.
Not sure the conversation was over or what decision had been made, he asked, “What are you doing, now?”
“I’m making a positive and negative list, and then I’m going to list a set of goals – if I take the position.”
“Sounds logical,” Bishop observed and then returned to his workout, lifting a single dumbbell with his good arm.
After a few sets with the free weight, Bishop lowered his barbell and observed his wife peck on the laptop computer. In addition to her grunts, whispered protests, and general air of angst, Terri’s expression constantly shifted between a troubled grimace and an annoyed scowl. Pretending to return to his exercise, he waited patiently until she spread her arms wide in a gesture of frustration, closed the lid of the PC, and set it on the end table. Terri’s mood was clear, as she leaned back on the chair with a heavy sigh of exasperation.
“How’s it going?” he cautiously ventured.
“Not well. Too many problems and not enough solutions.”
Bishop wiped the sweat from his forehead with a towel and then pulled up a chair close to his wife. “Terri, did I ever tell you about my grandparents?”
Terri’s initial reaction to Bishop’s changing the subject was a dirty look, but she quickly decided he was trying to take her mind off the critical decision they faced. “Very little, Bishop. You’ve never talked much about any of your family. Why do you ask?”
Bishop stretched his arm high above his head, the movement eliciting a slight wince. He detected his wife’s concern and smiled to reassure her that he was okay and that the pain was insignificant.
“Because I think it pertains to what’s going on in the world right now. I believe it relates to some of the problems we are facing. I don’t know why it never occurred to me before - it just dawned on me as I was watching you work.”
“Okay,” Terri replied, adjusting her perch on the chair to face him. “You’ve got my attention. Tell me about your grandparents.”
“I was young when they both died, but I still remember a lot about them. They had survived through the first Great Depression and as a result, had a different perspective on things than their children did. In fact, my dad and his brothers often teased Grandpa about being a cheapskate and a penny pincher. He would just laugh it off, but I used to worry that they were hurting his feelings.”
“Was he a cheapskate?”
Bishop stared off into space, obviously trying to recall old memories and revive feelings from long ago. “No, he actually was very generous. He wouldn’t spend money on himself, but would go all out with other people.”
Terri frowned, not quite understanding.
Bishop continued, “He and my grandma lived on a five-acre place in the Midwest. It was like a mini-farm, if you will, and they were very self-reliant there. They had an arbor that was heavy with grapes during late summer, as well as a neatly tended garden filled with everything from watermelons and squash to mustard greens. Beyond the garden was the barn where Grandma’s prized laying hens roosted on one side, a hayloft occupied the center of the structure, and the other side provided shelter for the cow during harsh, winter blizzards. There was a root cellar full of canned food preserved from the garden’s bounty. The two of them didn’t waste anything and detested going to the grocery store.”
“Maybe they just liked homegrown food better.”
“Maybe. When I was a kid, I used to hoe the weeds and pick the ripe veggies. I’ll tell you that I’ve never tasted food like that since. Pulling a tomato off the vine and taking a bite is a completely different experience than eating one that’s from the supermarket. Same goes for beans, strawberries, and corn. There’s just no comparison.”
Terri grinned. “I’m having trouble picturing a young Bishop in denim overalls, working in the potato patch.”
Bishop chuckled at the observation. “Oh, I did my share. Not with overalls mind you, but I sat with my grandparents and shelled peas and snapped beans on many a summer eve. My grandma used to cook ‘right off the vine’ green beans with fresh onions and bacon. Heaven on earth it was… well-worth the hours of pulling weeds.”
Terri rubbed her tummy and protested. “Stop that, Bishop. You’re making me hungry!”
Bishop smiled and continued, “I know they didn’t choose that lifestyle because of lack of money. My grandfather had actually done well financially. Taking care of a cow and a coop full of chickens is a lot of work for folks with the means to just buy their own eggs and butter. Canning a one-acre garden’s worth of food is a serious undertaking, too. And I don’t think they did it just for the taste either. No, I am sure they did it because of what they lived through when they were younger. They wanted the security of knowing they would never go hungry again.”
Terri crossed her arms, clearly deep in thought. “So you’re saying they did all those things because they lived through a depression? I suppose that makes sense, but wouldn’t the memory fade and the extra work seem pointless after a while? Wouldn’t they quickly figure out it is more convenient to go buy a dozen eggs and get out of the poultry business? I can see gardening as a hobby…maybe it is even fun, but livestock and canning?”
Bishop laughed, remembering his grandmother standing over the pressure cooker, suffering from the steam. “I don’t think it was a hobby or amusement. I don’t think any of it was based on that or saving money. I think they were driven to do what they did out of fear.”
“Fear? What kind of fear leads to storing sweet potatoes in a root cellar? What were they scared of, Bishop?”
“My grandfather said something interesting to me one time. I remember that day because I’d never seen him so serious.” Bishop paused for a bit and frowned before lowering his voice to a grumble. �
��Son,” he imitated, “being hungry, truly hungry, exhausts you in a way you cannot imagine. Trying to sleep at night doesn’t work. Listening to your children complain about empty bellies strikes a nerve unlike anything else. Wondering where your next meal is going to come from consumes all thought. Once you experience that, you’ll do everything in your power to make sure it never happens again.”
Terri nodded, her gaze indicating she was digesting the quote. “You’re relating how your grandparents lived to what we can expect from the people that are still alive now. They’ve been through hell, and it’s probably changed their lives forever.”
Bishop said, “Yes, that’s exactly what I am getting at. We were lucky, Terri. We had food and supplies, and a bug out location. Many people weren’t prepared for what happened, and they suffered for it. Many paid the ultimate price. As you, Diana, and the others guide us through the coming months, you need to remember that the mindset of the survivors will always be different.”
Terri thought about her mother and the childhood lessons that had been passed down from her mom. “I remember her telling me that getting an orange for Christmas was a big deal when she was a little girl. I know that her family lived through some really tough times. I never knew my grandparents; they died before I was born. I wonder if Mom inherited some of their conservative nature.”
“No doubt,” Bishop responded. “My father wasn’t nearly as frugal as his dad. I probably have even less of that quality. There’s this phrase “living memory,” that people throw around, and I think it’s a legitimate phenomenon. Look at Pearl Harbor or 9-11, both of those horrible events faded in the minds of Americans, especially those very young or a generation removed from the event. I’ve always wondered if 9-11 could have ever happened if the lessons from Pearl had remained at the forefront of the average citizen’s daily life. Time may heal, but I’m not sure that’s always a good thing. Sometimes I think we’d be better off as a society if we had certain things permanently imbedded in our collective thoughts.”
Terri rubbed her chin and shifted position. “I think you’re right on track with this, Bishop. How do I use this information, though?”
Bishop grunted and then met Terri’s gaze. “That’s up to you and the council, if you take the job. They were elected. ‘We, the people’ have put our trust in their hands. I only brought this up because I see you struggling with defining the role the new government is going to play. I think you need to keep this generation’s living memory in mind as you plow forward. The people around us will never be the same. Hell, you and I will never be the same. Look at you – my darling, ex-bank teller now talking about being the ambassador.”
Terri grinned and playfully waved her husband off. “I see what you mean, though. We survivors won’t have the same issues or priorities as we did before the shit hit the fan, and that can work for us. The council needs to focus on the future and keep in mind the lessons of the past.”
Bishop shrugged his shoulders. “A year ago, quality medical care meant prolonging life and keeping people comfortable. Now, it means simple survival… living another day. The same logic could be applied to a good meal. I felt like the peppered bacon you made me on Christmas Day was a feast fit for a king. A year ago, that would have simply been a super-sweet gesture from my loving wife. The priorities are different now, and I’m sure we aren’t the only ones who realize that.”
Terri nodded her agreement. “Still, it seems like everybody’s goal is to get things back to the way they were before the collapse as soon as possible. Diana actually had someone complain about the electricity going off at night and requested the council look into it. Can you believe that?”
“You’re going to have some of that, darling. It’s unavoidable. I hope reality will set in for those people. For most of us, it has already.”
Bishop reached across and touched Terri’s shoulder. “Here’s the real lesson… what I was really driving at with my long-winded story. You brought up the Colonel and fighting the beast. Do you remember when I told you that the only way to control the ‘beast’ was to control fear?”
Terri nodded, remembering the conversation on the base’s parade grounds.
Bishop continued, “The only way to control that fear is self-reliance – just like my grandparents. It’s not some law, or form of government – it’s eliminating the need to depend on anyone for anything. That’s how you control fear and thus control the Colonel’s metaphoric beast.”
Terri turned and picked up her laptop and began typing some notes. She paused and looked up. “Thank you, Bishop. I see what you are saying, and I agree wholeheartedly. I am going to give the highest priorities to projects that enable the people to be more like your grandparents. We don’t have enough manpower or resources for our fledgling council to rebuild society, so I think we should make sure everyone knows how to provide for themselves and then get out of their way. That will eliminate fear and control how much any beast can eat and grow.”
“Now you’re talking,” agreed Bishop. “There are some things only the community can do as a whole - projects that will be beyond the scope of individuals. That’s why governments have always been formed. You can’t ignore that reality. There has to be a balance.”
“I’ll accept under one condition,” Terri announced to Diana.
“Okay.”
“I get to address the issue at Fort Stockdale first,” she said with defiance.
Diana shook her head, surprised at Terri’s request. “I know that day at Station #4 shocked you, but I thought you had gotten over that. I’m a little surprised it’s still bothering you.”
A look of frustration crossed Terri’s face, her voice becoming cold. “Please don’t underestimate me, Diana. I’m not making that demand based on revenge or some ivory tower concept of righting all the wrongs in our little corner of the world. More than half of the people that are immigrating to Alpha are coming from the Fort Stockdale area. While I would love to set things straight in that little town, my motivation is to take the pressure off Alpha. If we fix things in Fort Stockdale, people will stop migrating here.”
Diana’s finger found her chin, “I’m sorry; I did underestimate you. You’re absolutely right about Fort Stockdale. If we addressed the source rather than bustle around trying to treat the symptoms, the patient would no doubt improve. I’m a little embarrassed I didn’t think of that myself.”
“When I told Bishop about my plan, he told me a story about Afghanistan that made a very good point. He made me promise to remember that nothing is as it appears, and that I should use that as a rule moving forward.”
“Sounds like sage advice. It also sounds like Bishop is completely onboard with your taking the job.”
Terri grinned, “I wouldn’t go that far. He still has reservations about being married to a politician.”
Both women laughed, and then Diana rose up from behind her desk and walked around to take Terri’s hand. “Welcome to the jungle, Ambassador. Come on in - the water’s fine.”
“Liar.”
Diana snorted, “You’ve got the hang of this game already! I’ll let Pete know your decision. I look forward to hearing your idea regarding how to fix the problem in Fort Stockdale.”
Alpha, Texas
February 7, 2016
Lou deposited the three men four miles outside of Alpha. It had dawned on the security man that he, personally, was one of those people who believed gold would have astronomical value when things settled back down. Since Mr. Lewis didn’t have any interest, Lou felt no disloyalty in asking his team of spies to check out the rumors floating around about this Bishop character.
Each man was issued an AR15 and several magazines of ammunition. Their orders were very specific – find out as much as possible about Alpha’s electrical capabilities. If information comes to light about the gold, all the better.
As he watched the three saunter off, a wave of second-guessing gripped the man. He had recommended these guys to the boss, and if the w
hole thing went south, it might blow up in his face. The men he was sending into Alpha weren’t overly mature and definitely not the highest IQs in the county. Far too aggressive, cocky, and unafraid, the trio was bound to run into trouble.
As he turned the SUV around and began the long drive back to Midland Station, his concerns began to fade. What’s the worst that can happen? he thought. Alpha’s a tiny little shithole, and no one really cares much about what’s happening there anyway.
Sergeant Mitchell hoped this town would be more interesting than the last one. After getting busted for his third drunk and disorderly in the last eight months, he had decided his military career was over. His service record in Iraq and Afghanistan had kept his rank at an E7 after the first incident. They had demoted him one pay grade after the second infringement, and he was surely facing time in the brig after this last little session with a bottle of moonshine smuggled in from El Paso.
Fort Bliss and the Army were deteriorating, anyway. Since Mitchell had been stationed at the desert base, there had been an assassination attempt on the president, tanks firing on civilians outside the front gate, and even a murder mystery involving some dude and his wife. Things were surely going to hell.
Food rationing had begun not long ago, followed shortly after by the base’s generators being shut down at night to conserve fuel. Training exercises were canceled, MP patrols minimized, and even the movie theatre was closed. Morale was low and desertions high.
The two privates strolling along with him had been fast acquaintances, all three men drying out in the base’s drunk tank. They were far from model soldiers themselves, and it had been a mutual agreement to desert if the opportunity presented itself.
It finally did. Released until a court martial scheduled for the following week, an unattended HUMVEE had been far too tempting. One of the privates swore his family owned a nice country place outside of Katy, Texas where the trio would be welcomed. A land of plenty... plenty of booze, plenty of women, and plenty of food.
