AFTER THE DUST SETTLED (Countdown to Armageddon Book 2)

by Darrell Maloney

  “Wow, Tom. I think that’s the most words I ever heard you say at one time.”

  Everybody laughed, and Tom took off his hat and threw it at Jordan.

  This group of people, coming from all walks of life and sharing little other than a desperate need for survival, had somehow morphed into something wonderful. They were no longer strangers living in the same compound. They’d become a family.

  -25-

  Tom was in a feisty mood at breakfast the third day after they’d finished working the corn.

  “Okay, folks. I hope you enjoyed the two days off, and I hope all your sore muscles are all better now. It’s time to go back to work.”

  Joyce was less enthused.

  “You didn’t get a break. You kept working while we were lollygagging around. How in heck can you be so gung-ho?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Sugar. Maybe because it’s just been me for a very long time, sitting over there in that old ranch house next door. Just fending for myself for all these past years. When you spend some time like that, your life kinda loses its meaning.

  “And then you folks come along and it’s like I have a new purpose in life. I can just watch y’all stumble along, or I can help you. Share what my daddy and grand-daddy taught me. And what I picked up myself over the years.

  “And it gives me a mission. Something I can do to make myself worthwhile and relevant again. Like I have a reason for being again. And then when you agreed to plant an out of cycle wheat crop, to help folks you don’t even know survive, well, that just sweetened the deal.

  “Now I can have a purpose again, and maybe I can do some good at the same time. If we can work together and maybe save a few lives, then maybe all the hard work will be worth the misery.

  “Now then, little lady. You asked me a five cent question and I gave you a three dollar answer. Should I stop talking now? You give an old codger like me a chance to say something and I’ll talk non-stop for hours.”

  Joyce laughed.

  “Number one, you’re not an old codger. You hide your age well, Tom Haskins, and you won’t tell any of us how old you are. But I’ll bet you’re not much older than Scott and Linda and I. More seasoned, maybe. And a lot more experienced in certain things like farming and ranching. But I don’t think you’re as old as you let on. I just think you pretend to be old so we’re more shamed when you outwork us so badly. So that maybe we’ll try to work a little harder to prove our worth.”

  “Well, darlin’, maybe you’re right. I ain’t sayin’ you’re right or you’re wrong. But if I get a little bit sneaky so’s y’all will work a little harder, is that really a bad thing?”

  Scott sat at the dining room table, listening to the two volley back and forth. He was enjoying every minute. Linda stood behind him, shaking her head and laughing.

  Tom seemed to have made his point. Now he decided to get serious again.

  “Everybody done eating? Ready to go to work?”

  Scott stood up and stretched.

  “Might as well get to it. It won’t get done til we get started.”

  Joyce looked at Scott.

  “Oh, great. You’re turning into Tom. You’re starting to sound like him.”

  All of them went to the field except for Sarah, who was on duty at the security console. She was supposed to be relieved at ten a.m., but she wasn’t feeling very well on this particular morning. She skipped breakfast because she was nauseated and light headed.

  “You just stay in the house and watch the monitors today,” Scott told her. No sense in putting you out there in that hot dirty field if you’re not feeling well.”

  Tom started working the next ten rows of corn, cutting each stalk off at the base. He worked two rows at a time, cutting the stalk to his left and letting it fall, then pivoting and doing the same thing to the stalk on his right. Within an hour and a half, he’d worked his way to the other end of the field, a little over a hundred yards away.

  But that was only half his task. Then he gathered the stalks, two handfuls at a time, and dragged them off the field and off to the side, laying them in piles in the tall grass. It was a lot of walking and a lot of dragging, and a much slower process than just cutting the stalks. But by the time they’d break for lunch, he expected to have the first two of his rows clear.

  The rest of them- Scott, Joyce, Linda, Jordan and Zach, each picked one of the first ten rows that Tom had already plowed under.

  Their mission was a lot slower, but equally taxing. Every twelve inches, they poked a Phillips head screwdriver into the soil, making a hole about an inch deep. Then they dropped a single wheat seed into the hole, shoved dirt over the hole with the palm of their hand, and moved on another twelve inches. It would take each of them the better part of a day to finish each row.

  The plan was for Tom to stay ahead of the rest of the crew, clearing the next ten rows of corn stalks and then plowing the corn stumps under. If the planting crew caught up with Tom, they’d take a break from planting for a day and help him get ahead again. If he finished the corn before they caught up with him, he’d help them finish. He wasn’t looking forward to that, because he had bad knees that tended to get worse when he crawled around. But he’d do it because he was a tough American farmer.

  By the time he made it to the last two rows, the corn that was left on the stalks for seed was dry enough to cut off. Tom spent half a day cutting them, tossing them into the back of a Gator, and throwing them into a big pile on the floor of the feed barn.

  That was the group’s next project.

  It took a full week to get the wheat planted. And when they were finished, they all walked stooped over, like little old men.

  But they were all glad they’d done it.

  “I can’t believe this is the way people farmed before there were machines,” Jordan commented one day near the end of the project.

  “Yep,” Tom said. “Those were the days of the family farm. Back then, there were no big commercial farms, because there just weren’t enough people to do all the labor that needed to be done. Families had half an acre, or maybe an acre or two. They all pitched in to help, and the work was never done. If they weren’t working in the fields, they were taking care of the livestock, or sewing their own clothes, or walking three miles to the grocer to get what few items they didn’t grow on their own.”

  Zachary asked, “So when did they have time to watch TV, and play video games and stuff?”

  Jordan punched him in the arm.

  “They didn’t have that stuff back then, brainiac.”

  Tom laughed.

  “Very few places had power. Most didn’t have running water. You went to the bathroom in an outhouse and drew water from a well to wash up. If you were lucky, once a week your mama lugged enough water from the well so you could get a bath, and you shared that water. It generally went from oldest to youngest. The father first, then the mother, then the oldest kids on down. I missed most of that, but my Daddy told me about it. He was the youngest, and by the time he got his bath the water was pretty dirty. He said he never saw the sense in even bathing, but his mama made him do it. If you ever heard anybody say they got a bath every Saturday, whether they needed it or not, that’s where it came from.”

  Tom chuckled as he remembered something else.

  “My Daddy was the youngest of seven kids. Folks had big families back then because the more kids you had the more workers you had to help out. He got the last of the bath water, as I said. His brother, my Uncle Walter, confessed to him years later that he used to pee in the tub every time he got a bath, just out of meanness. That was at a family reunion. Walter thought he was being real clever. But then his older brother, my Uncle Stuart, admitted to the same thing.”

  He drew melancholy.

  “God rest their souls. They’re all gone now. I sure hope they don’t have to share bath water in heaven.”

  To Zachary, this was all unfathomable.

  “What did they do to have fun?”

  “Oh,
they found ways. They hunted and fished, and swam at the local swimming holes. In the evenings, they played checkers in the living room, or told stories, or made up a hundred different kid games to play until they lost their daylight. Once the sun went down, everybody went to bed because there wasn’t much they could do in the dark.

  “They were generally tired from working the fields all day anyway. And they were up again at the crack of dawn. If it was a school day, the kids would walk to the county school, generally barefoot. After school they’d get home and do their schoolin’, which is what you kids call homework these days. Then they were out to the fields helping out until Daddy said the day’s work was done.

  “Saturdays was what everybody looked forward to. After the crops came in and most of it got sold off to coops, families had money to spend. Sometimes they’d go into town and see movies together. Movie houses were as cheap as a nickel back then, and they’d let you stay all day long and watch the same movie over and over again. It was great fun and real good times.”

  Linda could see a twinkle in his eye, and knew that Tom loved reliving old memories.

  Everyone else seemed to enjoy them too.

  -26-

  “Joyce, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  It was Sara, peeking into the doorway of Joyce’s bedroom.

  “Sure, honey. Come on in. What’s on your mind?”

  “I hate to bother you. In fact, I hate to ask, because I know we don’t have a lot of stuff up here, and can’t get more…”

  “Just ask, honey. What is it you need?”

  “I… I’ve been wearing some of Linda’s clothes, because they fit me when I first came, and I only had a couple of outfits of my own. But now I’ve grown a little bit, and her clothes are too tight. I was wondering if you had anything you don’t wear anymore that you might be willing to share.”

  Linda, Scott’s ex and Jordan’s mother, was one of those lucky individuals whose metabolism didn’t change as she entered her middle years. She still had the same rail-thin body she’d had in high school.

  Joyce, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. She was two sizes larger than Linda, and although she was active and in pretty good shape, she just hadn’t been able to shed those extra few pounds.

  “Well sure, sweetie. You’re welcome to anything I’ve got. You don’t mind wearing old women’s clothes?”

  Sara laughed, and said “You’re not old. Don’t even try it.”

  “Well, thank you for that. Let’s go see what’s in the closet.”

  An hour later, Sara put Lilo and Stitch into the DVD player and sprawled across the couch to watch it. She was more comfortable now, in a pair of Joyce’s jeans. She no longer felt the tightness of Linda’s jeans, stretched tightly across her expanding midsection.

  Scott came in and asked if he could join her. He bore a gift: a bowl of fresh strawberries he’d just picked from the garden out back.

  Sara mustered a smile.

  “Sure. You can join me any time you bring strawberries.”

  “Yeah, I thought so. You’re just like Joyce. She only loves me when I’m carrying fruit.”

  “Do you want to watch the movie with me?”

  “No, actually I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes if you don’t mind. I wanted to catch you alone, and the only time I can do that is when Jordan is on security duty.”

  “Um. Okay.”

  “You know that Tom and I have been talking about how we’re going to get the load of wheat down the mountain to San Antonio in a couple of months. And we wanted to find out what your feelings were about an idea we had.”

  She looked at him but didn’t know where he was going.

  “You haven’t spoken of your parents lately. I know that they were in St. Louis when the lights went out. And Jordan told me you left them a note saying you were going to our house in the city, and left them the address.

  “And I don’t want to get your hopes up. They might still be in St. Louis, unable to get out.

  “But I’ve been a father for a long time now. And if one of my children was alone in a city far away, I don’t care what I had to do. Even if I had to walk, I’d get to him.

  “What I’m saying is, I think there’s a good chance that your parents have returned to San Antonio. Like I said, I don’t want to get your hopes up. But when Tom and I take the wheat into the city, we are planning to go to the old house. To see if your parents have been there. And if so, well, hopefully they’re still there waiting for us to bring you back.

  “The reason this is important, that you know about our plans, is because if they’re not at our old house, we want to make our way to your old house too. In case they went back home while they’re waiting for you.”

  Sara swallowed hard and her eyes started to moisten. Scott, being a man, misread the cues.

  “Oh, no no no. Don’t cry. I don’t want you to misunderstand what I’m saying. We’re not taking you back to live with your parents in San Antonio. It’s far too dangerous.

  “What I’m saying is, if we can find them, we want to invite them to come back with us and stay with us. You said you don’t have any brothers or sisters, right?”

  It was all Sara could do to shake her head yes.

  “So, then. It’s just the two of them. We figure that’s two more mouths to feed. But it’s okay, because it’s also two more people to help out, and we can grow more crops to give us the extra food we’ll need.

  “But here’s the thing. If they’re not at our old house… if we have to go and search for them, we need your help. Jordan doesn’t know your address. He just remembered your street, and what your house looked like from when he used to drop you off and pick you up.

  “We’ll need for you to draw us a map and write down your old address for us. Can you do that?”

  Sara seemed to struggle for words. Scott knew this was painful for her. She’d probably just assumed that she’d never see her parents again. She was surely worried sick about them and afraid that they weren’t even alive any more.

  Finally, she found her voice again, and Scott was startled at her choice of words.

  “No. I won’t.”

  His face must have said it all. He was confused, and maybe a little shocked.

  She looked at him, and her face contorted into a look of sadness. She took his face in her hands and looked intently into it, as though it were crucial he understand her next words.

  “No. I hate them. I never want to see them again.”

  She dropped her hands and buried her own face in them. And she started to weep.

  Scott, like most men, had never been able to figure out quite what to do when faced with a crying woman. Joyce and Linda would have been much more able to deal with this situation. But they weren’t here. He was. So he did the best he could.

  His instincts as a father took over, and held her. He gently rocked her back and forth, and whispered to her, “Shhhhh… it’s okay. Take your time. Cry all the tears you need to cry until it feels better. Then we’ll talk some more. But there’s absolutely no hurry at all. We’ve got plenty of time to work through this.”

  They sat there for what seemed to Scott like an eternity, but was really only a few minutes. As he rocked her gently back and forth, he saw silly cartoon characters doing a hula dance on the muted television, and he wondered how different his life would be if he’d had girls instead of boys.

  He decided that girls are great in their own special way. They’re sweet and kind, and wonderful in so many ways. But darn it, they could be so hard to figure out, too. He decided he was better off having boys. He was much better at explaining fishing and small engine repair than such things as feelings and flowers and emotions and such.

  Finally, the tears stopped.

  She’d no longer look at him. She seemed ashamed, although he couldn’t understand why. She broke away from him and sat next to him, staring intently down at her hands.

  And she shared her story.

  “The day
the power went out, I was scared. I didn’t know what was going on, or even if we were going to survive to see the next day. It was a day full of terror.

  “But it was also a joyful day. Because it was the day I was finally free to break away from my awful parents and go with the boy I loved. To a better family, who would take me far away from the hell that my life had become.”

  “I don’t understand. I’m sorry. What are you saying? You were glad to get away from your parents? But why?”

  “I’ve already shared most of the details with Linda. She’s known for quite awhile. Please, don’t make me explain them all again. It’s embarrassing, and I’m ashamed. I could talk to her because she’s… well, she’s a woman and you’re not. It’s hard telling a man that I was raped and sodomized for years by my step-father. And that my mother knew about it and allowed it to happen…”

  Scott stopped her. It finally made sense now.

  “Shhh. Say no more. I finally get the picture. I’m sorry I didn’t figure it out sooner. And I’m sorry to make you have to relive that part of your life.”

  She looked at him intently.

  “I don’t ever want to see either of them again. They’re no longer my parents. They’ve given up that right.”

  Then she fell into his arms again. The tears came back, but were mere sobs this time. He held her and rocked her again.

  But this time he finally understood her pain.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Those days are over forever. You’ve got a new family now. One that loves you and will protect you from the evils of the world. We will cancel our plans to look for your parents. God will see that they pay for what they did to you. And I promise you, we will never speak of this subject again.”

  -27-

  Sara’s secret was out. After Scott, she took Joyce aside and told her about her past, and she asked Linda to tell Tom just the basics. So that he didn’t wonder why Scott cancelled plans to search for her parents out of the blue.

  But that wasn’t her only secret.

  She stood in front of the bathroom mirror, naked, and looked to see how her body was changing. It still was barely noticeable, at least she thought. She might be able to hide it a little bit longer, if she continued to wear loose clothing. Joyce had given her a couple of pairs of sweat pants, and some loose blouses. It would make an odd combination, fashion-wise. But it would buy her more time to figure out what to do.