Percy's Mission

by Jerry D. Young

  “Okay,” Percy replied, “I recognize you, but I don’t know your name.

  “Henry Bradshaw, Mr. Jackson. I’m Henry Bradshaw. Me and Andy’s good buddies. I’m a hard worker, just like him. I know a couple other fellows need work, too, if you need some good hands.”

  “I do. Come on with me. You can help Andrew with the water tanker.” Besides Henry, several others followed Percy back to Gregory’s Grocery. People were lining up to get food. Percy was a little surprised at the number that had silver coins. Most were signing barter slips for labor.

  Steven had someone helping, so took a minute to talk to Percy, when Percy asked. “Things going okay?”

  “Yeah. I’ve debated how young to let them sign up for labor. I’ve kept it at sixteen. What do you think?”

  “I have things that can be done by someone as young as twelve. I don’t think I’d want the responsibility for anyone younger than that. And no more than four hours for them. Sixteen for adults sixteen and over.”

  “Men and women the same?”

  “Yes. I’ll put the person on a job they where they can be effective, no matter what the abilities.” Something caught his eye. “Has Jorge Ramirez bought anything?” Percy asked, nodding over to a man sitting in a wheelchair, watching the proceedings.

  “No, he hasn’t,” Steven replied. “I offered him a little, even though he didn’t have anything to trade. He said he was okay, just wanted to see what was going on.”

  “Make sure you make an offer for labor, like for the others. He’s as good as they come with horses, even with only one leg. His hour of labor would be just as effective for me as anyone else’s.”

  The rain, which had dropped to a drizzle while they were in city hall, now stopped all together. The clouds were breaking up and the sun was peeking through. People began to shed jackets.

  “Steven, I was told you bought the hardware store from Mark, after his father died.”

  “Yes. I felt sorry for him. The city council wants him to stay on as deputy chief, but they can’t provide enough to take care of his family. With what I’m getting from you, I can afford to feed at least him for a year for what’s left in the store.”

  “You want to sell it?”

  “What are you offering?” Steven asked.

  “That year of food, plus something more. What would you like, in addition to the year’s food for one person?”

  “People are showing up with their coin collections. It’s easier than bartering. Some hard currency would be best for me. People are already willing to take it for things. Abigail baked some bread and will only take silver for it.”

  “How about a ten rolls of silver dimes? That’s five hundred dimes, thirty-six ounces of silver. I know it’s not that much.”

  “That’ll do,” Steven said. “This store is going to be all I can handle, anyway. Lot more labor intensive with the bartering and all. I’d have to pay someone to help me with the hardware store. I’d rather have the silver.”

  “Okay,” Percy said, handing Steven a plastic roll of dimes. “You trust me to bring in the rest next trip?”

  “Of course I do,” Steven said, pocketing the roll of coins.

  Percy found Randy waiting patiently at the bank for him. “Be right with you,” Percy told him, then went into the bank. People were standing around, but there didn’t seem to be much going on.

  “Okay,” Camden said. “Mr. Jackson is here. We’re open for business.” Percy didn’t say anything about them waiting for him before they did anything. He just handed Brittney four coin tubes and three pads of barter slips. One pad was for a gallon of fuel on each of the slips, one was for one meal on each slip, and the third was slips for a day’s food.

  Camden stood behind Brittney as she tallied up the deposit, wrote it on a deposit slip and handed it to Percy. Camden was beaming. He took the bank’s copy of the slip and turned, to hand it to Arthur Lang. “Set up a new account for Mr. Jackson. This is his initial deposit.”

  Quite officially, his hands clasped behind his back, “We will deduct our one tenth of a percent from your account, Mr. Jackson, and credit the bank. And remember, all withdrawals must be made in person, or by your authorized agent.”

  “I understand,” Percy said. “I’ll thumbprint any checks I write on the account, as well as sign.”

  Camden looked a little startled, but quickly suppressed it. He’d only considered direct deposits and withdrawals. But what was in the bank was in the bank. There was no reason not to allow checks to be written on it.”

  “Of course, Mr. Jackson,” Camden said quickly. “Just mark out the word dollars and write in the currency on which you’re paying the debt and initial it.”

  Percy slid the thumbprint inkpad forward and pressed his thumb against it. “I’ll stamp my account sheet, if you like, for latter comparison purposes.”

  Arthur quickly handed the paper to Camden, who laid it on the counter. Percy pressed his inked thumb on the top of the page, rather with a flourish. He picked up the counter pen and signed, then initialed beside the thumbprint.

  “There you go, Mr. Dupree. I assume you will check each transaction against the print, signature, and initials, as appropriate, to verify authenticity.” Percy winked just slightly at Camden.

  The tiniest of smiles lifted the corners of Camden’s lips. “Of course, sir. This bank has always verified identity and authenticity. We will continue to protect our customers’ interests, just as we always have.”

  “Thanks,” Percy said and stepped away from the counter. The next person stepped up, a coin collection folder in hand. “I want to go ahead and get my silver in here so I can’t lose it,” she said.

  Percy went out, a smile on his face. “Randy,” he said.

  Randy stood up from where he’d been sitting on the steps. “Yes, Mr. Jackson?”

  “I need to use a little of that labor credit I have with you. I’ll supply the fuel, rod, and such for some items I need you to make for me.” He pulled a sheaf of papers from the portfolio in which he’d put his deposit slip.

  “I need two primary stills and a secondary still to double distill alcohol. I also need another pair of methane digesters built. Here are the drawings. I’d like them twice as big as the originals. Can you figure how to do that?”

  Randy studied the drawings for some time. “Yes, sir, I sure can. These are basic. Just a matter of scaling things up. The design can be the same, with some additional reinforcement elements.” Randy looked up from the drawings. “Do you have all the materials?”

  “I do, but I’d like you to scrounge everything you can. Here’s a roll of dimes. Buy as much as you can. Check the rates in the bank and just ball park a price for the things you want. I want as much coin spread around the community as possible, so get a little from each person that has something that will work. Anything you can’t come up with, I can supply. I want to conserve the easy to use things as much as possible.”

  “Okay. I have probably enough fuel to get out to your place, but I’ll need some to get back.”

  Percy nodded. “If it is okay with your family, I’d like you to stay there overnight, every other day, to conserve fuel. I’ll provide meals while you’re there.”

  “Okay, Mr. Jackson. You have a deal. I’ll still owe you after this. I appreciate you letting me pay off some of that debt.”

  “Being the greedy man I am,” Percy said, “I’d like to extend the time you owe me a bit and pay for part of this with current currency. Food and fuel for you. Is that okay?”

  “Well, sure! But you don’t really have to do that.”

  “I want to,” Percy said. “You’re the only professional welder around. I’m going to need your services from time to time.”

  “You’ve got them, guaranteed,” Randy replied.

  Percy made several more deals that day on the steps of the bank. Some were executed immediately. Some were deals that would be transacted in the future. He hired six of the neediest to go to live at the estate
and work full time for room and board, and some spending cash. The six included Henry Bradshaw and one of his friends. It also included Jorge Ramirez.

  The fourth and fifth persons were the Jenkins. Ellen and Hank. Ellen would cook, clean, and act as bunkhouse boss. Hank would be working in the shop, mostly. They’d share the bunkhouse boss’ bedroom.

  The other two were a pair of sisters, aged seventeen and eighteen. They’d be helping Mattie with the house duties, the gardens, and some work in the greenhouses. They were from a large family and were going to help provide food for them. Everyone’s belongings for a lengthy stay at the estate were loaded in the Unimog and the six rode out with Susie in the van.

  Andy moved into the bunkhouse with his two friends, taking one of the four person bunkrooms. The sisters shared another. As those that were recovering became able to manage for themselves, they were taken back to town, to their homes. Three chose to stay. Two men and one woman. Still weak, Percy made a deal with them to do limited work, as they were able, for the time being, while drawing similar, but slightly less in wages than the others were. Mainly, they got plenty of good food, and the rest they needed to finish their recovery.

  The trips were working out well. Percy began culling the animals he’d bought from several locals. He kept Doc and Susie busy taking care of ailing animals. Doc had a good basement and survived just fine, though Percy had to help him bury some of the animals he lost that he didn’t have adequate shelter for. They’d all been ill to start with and many didn’t survive the exposure of the radiation and the volcanic gasses that wafted through a few times with the ash.

  They couldn’t save all the animals that were ailing that Percy bought. The carcasses, like those Doc lost, were buried on one of Percy’s noncontiguous fields that was close. As they decayed, they would enrich the soil.

  A few of the animals that had been fed clean feed, but had been exposed to radiation and would die, were butchered for the meat. The meat wasn’t contaminated, but all the organs were processed through the methane generator, just in case. The hides were cleaned and used as rawhide.

  Percy managed to be able to take in at least one good-sized animal for Clyde to cut up and Steven to distribute each week. The people that had sold Percy the animals had not been able to care for them properly. They would not even be able to transport them, except to walk them to town. Some of them were ten miles or more from town. Animals and humans alike couldn’t afford the additional dosages of radiation it would entail to travel that distance on foot.

  People finally figured out why Percy had bought the town’s museum. It had an extensive collection of old farming implements. Many were horse drawn versions. Many more were early conversions of horse drawn styles to the then newfangled mechanical tractor. Percy had Randy and Hank convert them to horse drawn.

  He got enough horses to have at least six teams that could work the fields, and another half dozen additional saddle horses. There were two sets of four steers each that took to harness and could do the heavy pulling like the Clydesdales. They wouldn’t be used to harvest much, but they were ready to work the ground the following spring. Percy used the mechanical equipment to harvest the failed field crops to avoid exposing the animals to the additional residual radiation.

  The crops all went into the stills and methane generator, the remains buried with the animals on the other plot to enrich that soil for future use, when the radiation had finally decayed to a point where it could be used safely. The oily crops had been pressed for oil first, to feed the biodiesel conversion process, and then the cake was processed further in the still, then the methane generator.

  They finally made a trip into the city. Percy had Susie go with Sara. The state government was functioning, Sara knew from the shortwave and amateur radio reports they were getting. A call had gone for former state employees that could, to report to their local offices.

  Sara would eventually do her old job, but for the moment, she was census and report taker. Percy loaned her a laptop with extra batteries and a solar charger to make the work easier. She was one of the very few so blessed.

  Percy made a similar arrangements with the city, county, and state government officials as he had with the town. It had taken quite a bit of negotiation, but between Sara, Tom, and Percy they avoided confiscation of Percy’s resources. That was despite Abigail’s and Jeb’s attempts to get Percy kicked off the property and it be taken over by the authorities.

  It became obvious to the powers-that-be that Percy could produce far more running the place the way he had been than what the immediate confiscation and use of all his supplies would supply. They could always seize it later if Percy reneged on his agreements or made excessive demands in return for the goods and services he provided.

  As a gesture of goodwill, Percy gave the county and state one percent of his diesel up front. Percy would also provide a certain amount of food and fuel to each of the governments every month at no cost. That was his cost to avoid complete confiscation. Percy considered it close to extortion, but he bit his tongue and made the arrangements. He was getting something out of the deals, anyway. The additional arrangements he’d made gave Percy a few material things he wanted, and the jurisdictions received much needed extra food and the fuel to provide for the needs of the communities.

  Sara would get enough fuel to do her job in her hybrid. Despite all the electronics, it had survived just fine in the garage of one of the cottages, shielded by the earth surrounding it.

  They found a computer module for Andy’s Jimmy and his friends used it on occasion, for a small fee. Andy seldom used it. He was almost always in one of the estate vehicles taking care of something for Percy.

  By the time October rolled around, everything in the orchards and fields that could be harvested and used had been. There had been some losses to the ever-bearing strawberry crop, as there had the blackberry crop. But what did survive had sold for a premium price in town, despite Percy’s intention to have it simply as the fruit portion of the food rations. After the initial purchase in the store, people began buying and selling from one another at higher prices.

  The tree fruit crop suffered some, but not as much as other crops. There was quite a bit of additional handling of the fruit and the nuts. Percy insisted on double washing every single piece. Just as he did the strawberries and blackberries. Much of it was done in tanks, but the soft fruit was done by hand. The fruit and nuts, too, began to fetch premium prices in town.

  Some of the fruit was far enough gone that, though edible, it wouldn’t even stand a trip into town. It was made into juice, jelly, preserves, and butters, or dried. Percy had the equipment to do it all. The sisters were kept busy helping Mattie with it. And Mattie had a pretty thriving supplemental business selling fruit pies for a while. Mattie baked them and Susie sold them in town, sharing the proceeds with Susie and the girls.

  One thing that Percy worried about was his bees. He’d moved all his hives into the bee barn and closed it up right after they’d put the berms at the other barns. He’d kept the barn closed and the sugar water feeders filled until the radiation had dropped way down. Still the bees were dying in droves. He checked all the hives with the survey meter. The readings were only marginally above the background reading in the barn.

  October started off cold. As cold as November usually was. Jim and Bob were bundled up to their eyeballs when they drove the Jeep onto the estate October Third. The top was ripped in several places.

  “Almost didn’t get back,” Jim said, as they sat around the kitchen table in the house, hands wrapped around bowls of Mattie’s chili. Percy, Mattie, and Susie were clustered around, to hear the story.

  “We got there just fine,” Bob started off.

  Jim continued. “Had mom convinced to come with us. Then it happened.” Two pairs of sad eyes turned up to Percy.

  “What you taught us,” Bob said, “Saved us. But it was too much for Mom. She had a heart attack. We carried her to the hospital, but it was too l
ate.”

  “Got a pretty good dose of radiation in the process,” Jim interjected.

  “Yeah. Got sick as a dog. They let us stay in the shelter they’d set up in the hospital. By the time we were well enough to travel…”

  Jim took up the story again. “We felt like we owed the folks that took us in something, so we worked, helping the community get going again. We were still pretty weak at that point, anyway.”

  “Yeah,” added Bob. “Still are. That radiation stuff is pure poison.” The two exchanged a look. “The docs at the hospital said we’d have a much increased chance of cancer or leukemia and stuff in a few years.”

  “Yeah,” Jim said. “But it was our Mom. We had to try. Anyway, we finally went back to the house and loaded up a few things we wanted to bring back. The Jeep wouldn’t start, of course.”

  “The EMP thing, we figured.” Bob was telling the tale now. “So we unpacked the computer you talked us into taking with us, Boss. Cost an arm and a leg when we bought it, but it sure was worth it. Money ain’t worth nothing now.”