I looked from one man to the other and almost laughed. The posturing was so amusing to me, however, I knew if I laughed out loud it would only make the situation worse. I got down from the table and reached for John’s hand, turning back to the doctor.
“Thank you, doctor, I appreciate your concern. I’ll be in touch.”
* * *
“Maybe I should stay here instead of going to Indiana,” John said as we were setting the table for dinner.
I was stunned for the second time today, only this time I understood. “You’re jealous of the doctor, aren’t you? That’s flattering, John, really,” I said, smiling at the thought.
“He’s a good looking man,” John commented.
“So are you,” I replied simply.
“He’s a professional.”
“So are you.”
“And he’s educated.”
“So are you.” I replied once more.
“You’re attracted to him,” John muttered.
“No. I find him attractive, yes, but I’m not attracted to him. I’m attracted to you. Isn’t that obvious by now, John?”
He looked at me, with sadness in his eyes. “I still think I should stay here.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever given you any reason to not trust me, John. I will be here when you return, I love you. Isn’t that enough?”
June 14
“Is there any part of your restocking that you haven’t done yet?” John asked me, admiring the recent additions to the pantry shelves. The newly filled canning jars twinkled in the filtered afternoon light. After doing all the ramps, I started on the fish that Jason and Eric had been bringing me. Eric had even managed to snare some rabbits from the wooded back acreage. We ate fresh what we wanted and I canned the rest for later. I’d even taken the smaller, softer rabbit bones and pressure canned them for dog and cat food. There was no waste, not anymore.
“I think the only thing I haven’t been able to get started on is the fuel. The propane tank is good, we used very little over the winter since the furnace never ran, so it only fueled the water heater. The drums of gas are almost empty because of using the generator,” I said with a frown. “It’s going to cost a small fortune for a hundred gallons of gas. Once I start back to work at the Resort, I should be able to refill it a little at a time.”
“Let me do that for you,” John offered. “For us.”
“No, John, that’s too much money,” I protested.
He took me by the shoulders, making me face him. “I want to do this, Allexa, for you, for me, for the family you care so much about. I don’t want you worried or stressed out that something isn’t done that could be,” he insisted. “I owe you so much. Please, let me do this.”
“You called me Allexa, not Allex. You must be very adamant about this, John. Okay, you win,” I relented. “Besides, if I don’t agree, you’ll just go behind my back and have one of the boys do it anyway.”
He laughed, giving me a big hug. “Thank you, Allex. It means a great deal to me to contribute.”
JOURNAL ENTRY: June 14
The news tonight was filled with the increase in earthquake swarms along the West Coast, along with new volcanic activity in Mexico. The pictures of all the upheaval are frightening.
* * *
June 15
“I’ll be back in five days,” John said, holding me tight.
“You better be,” I replied with a smile I didn’t feel. I hated seeing him leave so early.
He tossed his overnight bag into the front seat of the Green Way truck he still had, and headed for Sawyer Airport.
Trying not to worry about John, I spent some time in the greenhouse, enjoying the coziness, the smell of fresh dirt, and the gurgling sound of the water as the pump moved it around, constantly aerating it so the new fish could breathe. The solar array on the house was functioning perfectly, providing power to the greenhouse during the day as well as charging the six batteries, and the batteries powered the pumps at night. It was none too soon; the power went out this morning and hasn’t come back on yet.
I picked up a handful of soil and let it sift through my fingers, deciding then that there was no real reason to wait on trying my hand at indoor growing.
I raked the surface smooth in the first grow box, then dug a very shallow trench and watered it. From my stash of seeds I selected some radish and sprinkled them in the groove, covered them and watered again. I decided on a row of green beans too.
There was one narrower box near the cook stove that I had decided would be for herbs and that became my project for the day.
Back at the raised beds by the garden, I dug up some oregano, tarragon and chives, and moved them into the greenhouse, nestling them into the soil. This would also be a good place for the rosemary bush that I had to move indoors every winter. I was sure it would flourish being in soil instead of a pot. The four foot tall Bay Laurel tree would be perfect next to the fish pond. I was told I’d never be able to grow a Bay tree up here, it was just too cold. Now here it was, almost five years old and thriving, giving me those tangy leaves to spice up my soups and stews. I decided against moving any spearmint indoors. It’s very hardy outdoors and spreads well; too well.
I dug into the seed bucket again, and found some basil, dill and parsley seeds. Those three annuals were the herbs I used the most, and the thought of having them all year long was so enticing, I just had to get some planted. All of those had already sprouted out in the garden, and would give all of us plenty of fresh herbs all summer, with some for drying, but I wanted them indoors too. I had to admit that in part, it was because I wanted to see things green and growing during the winter.
The last perennial herb to transplant was the thyme. I dug a large chunk of creeping thyme from near the back steps to the deck and replanted it in one of the hanging baskets, positioning the new plant so its tendrils were already draped over the edge of the black plastic pot.
I gave everything one more watering and, satisfied with the day’s work, closed the door and went inside. John had only been gone a few hours and already the house felt so empty.
CHAPTER 17
June 16
Moose Creek was not a wealthy community in terms of money, but it was rich in diversity. People there were do-it-yourselfers and artists of all kinds.
With the abundance of rural land, many had taken to the woods to live and do their crafts. Whether it was pottery or woodworking, the isolation of the area allowed anyone who wished to work long hours without disturbing neighbors. Furniture derived from steamed and bent saplings or delicately carved burls were always available at local craft shows along with hand thrown pottery or wall hangings of birch bark. Somewhere out in our woods there was a blacksmith who was known to forge the most intricately twisted wrought iron utensils.
As independent as these artisans were, I’d found they leaned to being independent in only their craft. They still needed to buy groceries, gas for their cars and obtain dental work for the children they birthed at home. Very few of them had gardens, choosing instead to devote their time to making beautiful things to sell. Even fewer stocked their pantries to make it through the harsh and snowy winters, which I found very confusing.
When the earthquake hit down south, splitting our country in half and interrupting the supply lines, I think many of them must have headed to the larger cities. Either that or they died. No matter what it was that drove them out of their homes, most of them were now gone.
I found that particularly sad. I really thought they were the types of people who would survive without society. I was wrong.
* * *
“Where in the world did you find that?” I asked Jason. He was cutting a T1-11 sheet of wood and proceeded to nail it to the outside of the greenhouse.
“I went to see Toivo and Sharron hoping to get some milled wood suitable for siding,” Jason said. “The place is empty, though, Mom. Eerily empty. Like they just went out for a walk in the woods and didn’t come back. Their truc
k is gone. The icebox was cleaned out, and there are still canned goods on the shelf. It looks like they froze and burst. There are clothes still hanging in the closets.” He paused for a minute, searching for words. I knew this must be difficult for him since Toivo was a good friend of his and they shared a love of wood craft.
“Anyway, I looked around and found two sheets of this,” he pointed to the rough wood siding, “and since it matches your house, I took it. I did leave them a note, just in case they come back. Oh, and in their work shop, I found stain that’s a reasonable match to your siding. It won’t be long and this addition will look like it was always here.” He smiled at that. He took great pride in his work and especially how he could blend something into an existing structure.
“I think my greatest find was sandpaper!” Jason said excitedly. “Sharron must have resupplied their stock just before everything shut down, which would have made sense since they usually wintered in.”
I’d known Toivo and Sharron for years before Jason came to live up here. While Toivo built beautiful furniture and cabinets, it was Sharron that brought it all to life with the finishing touches of baby-smooth sanding and glowing stains.
“I’m saddened that they’re gone.” I said. “Maybe we should be starting our own list, Jason, of places you’ve searched that appear empty. If the owners are still gone come next Fall, more things might be salvageable. I know Sharron was a canner and she might have left behind some jars or equipment that the community can use.”
June 17
Lately I have spent most of my time out in the garden, coaxing the little plants to grow. The weather had been cooperating, perfect even, for growing things. The hailstorm that damaged my new seedlings had been mostly forgotten, and things were now flourishing.
“Mom!” Eric called out, clearly excited about something.
“I’m out in the garden,” I answered.
“I found the most amazing thing today!”
The foraging my two sons had been doing had taken on a life of its own in the way of friendly competition. I just wished they didn’t venture into possibly dangerous situations alone.
“What did you find today?” I asked, bemused by his enthusiasm. When he unveiled a window, currently leaning in the bed of the pickup truck, I found myself just as excited. It was almost identical in size to the one that was shot out during the Wheeler fight, the one that was still boarded up. I was stunned with the thought of having light back in my dining room!
“Oh my! Wherever did you find it?”
“I took Emi over to Joshua’s to see the animals and spotted a house down the road not too far from his farm. I asked him about it, thinking I might find some manual tools. The place has been empty for two years. Joshua and I did a bit of browsing,” Eric said, then Joshua got out of the pickup.
He tipped his head in my direction. “Afternoon, Miss Allexa.”
“It’s nice to see you, Joshua.” I smiled at him and then turned back to Eric. “Where’s Emilee?”
“Oh, she’s still with Martha. I’m not sure who is watching who, but they’re getting along right nicely. There’s no need to worry about her,” Joshua answered first.
“I needed Joshua’s help to get the window out and now back in. We might need your help too, Mom. You game?”
* * *
We worked the next hour or so removing the plywood that boarded up the opening, cleaning out the splintered wood, and then lifting the new window into place. I held the window steady from the outside, Joshua fitted and shifted the frame, and then Eric secured the new window in place. A small filler piece of siding was needed, and with a dab of the stain Jason had brought back from Toivo’s, the window was done.
“You don’t know how happy this makes me,” I sighed, giving both young men a hug. I tested the window’s lock and then slid the filthy glass open. While I cleaned the dirt and cobwebs from the corners, Eric installed the screen so once again there was airflow.
“I think I’d better get Joshua back to his chores and retrieve my daughter. Martha probably has her mucking out stalls by now,” Eric laughed.
JOURNAL ENTRY: June 18
We’re now on day three of no power. I think I’ll give Tom White a call in the morning. Many of the townspeople equate electricity to normalcy. It’s a way of life and they don’t want to be without.
* * *
“Eric, have you taught Emilee how to shoot yet? If not, I think it would be a good idea. She’ll be twelve next month.”
“Yes I have, but we had to leave the mini-rifle I had for her in Florida,” Eric said. “You wouldn’t happen to have one, would you? You seem to have everything else.”
“No, I don’t. I do have a small .22 hand gun. It’s a Berretta Bobcat, a five shot automatic, although the slide is a bit stiff. Maybe you or John can loosen that.”
“Speaking of John, when is he coming back?” Eric asked.
I smiled. “He’s due back tomorrow.”
I know he’d been gone for longer stretches when he was working, though it felt different when my mind knew he was hundreds of miles away, and not just ten or twenty.
“I’ll go get the gun for Emilee.”
All hand guns in the house were kept loaded and ready for use, safeties on. I released the magazine and racked the slide to eject the chambered round, and then placed the gun on the table in front of Eric.
“I hate to say this, Mom, but that’s really cute,” he said laughing, picking up the palm-sized weapon.
“I know, that’s why I bought it. We both know that a .22 is just as deadly as a .38 or a 9mm when it hits its target, and one should never underestimate the power of a weapon just because of its size!” I grinned. “Maybe I can give this to Emi as a birthday present next month?”
“She would love it, guaranteed.”
* * *
Jason stopped by this afternoon to see if I had any work for him. Eric was still there, and was just itching for his brother to notice the new window. He didn’t have to wait long.
“Okay, Eric, you win,” Jason said, punching his older brother in the arm. “Your halo just got a bit shinier. Where did you find it?”While Eric relayed the tale about his find, it occurred to me that the halo reference was about how these two were trying to please their mom, and it made me smile.
CHAPTER 18
June 19
When the phone rings at seven in the morning, it’s never good news.
My heart sank at John’s news. “Your flight’s been cancelled? Why?”
“I’m not sure. I think it’s because the plane wasn’t full. It’s the economics of fuel usage. Don’t worry; I’m on the next flight tomorrow morning.” John’s soft North Carolina accent was filled with anxiety.
I pouted. “Maybe you should have stayed here.”
“I will get back!” John insisted.
I didn’t want to worry him with words that the power had been out as long as he’d been gone, and that my contact in Marquette wasn’t answering his phone.
JOURNAL ENTRY: JUNE 19
I waited and waited all day, and still no word from John. Tom White still isn’t answering his phone either.
* * *
When the phone did ring, it startled me, and I lunged for it.
“Allexa? This is MaryEllen in Midway,” a soft, sad voice said.
“What can I do for you, MaryEllen?” I asked, disappointed it wasn’t John. I knew who MaryEllen was; her husband was one of the casualties in the shootout that took place in Midway with the Wheeler gang, just before they came here and killed my brother.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said, “but I really don’t know who else to ask.”
“What is it you need? Perhaps I can direct you to the right person.”
“That’s just it…there isn’t a ‘right person’,” MaryEllen wailed. “I want to get out of here, Allexa. There’s no food and I can’t grow any. Charley’s dead and I’m completely alone. “I want to get to one of the relocation centers in Ma
rquette, however, I don’t have gas for the truck. I’m not even sure it still runs. Can you find someone to give me a lift to town?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” I took down her phone number, promising to find someone going that direction who could give her a ride.
How sad. Even when someone survived the initial disaster and then the weather, it didn’t mean they were guaranteed to survive the new way of life that had been thrust upon them.
JOURNAL ENTRY: June 20
It’s been five days since the power went out, just one more thing to worry about. The first two days I ran the generator a few hours each day, just like I did last Fall, and for the same reasons: to keep the freezers going and to pump water.
Today, though, I took the venison out of the extra fridge and started canning it. Like always, the meaty bones went into a big pot to make soup, except this time the chunks of meat were canned separately for stew instead of ground. We cannot lose any meat, it’s too valuable. I processed the meat all day and into the night.
CHAPTER 19
June 21
“Jason, we can’t all go over to Bob and Kathy’s at the same time and leave these two houses and the garden unprotected,” I protested.
“Mom, it’s your birthday. Can’t you loosen up just for once?”
“No, I can’t. Besides, I need to stay here, just in case …”
The Journal: Ash Fall Page 12
