The Journal: Ash Fall (22 page)

July 9

“Allex, I’m still on shift! I have to go
back,” John stated. “I’ve no doubt that they will overlook that I
wasn’t at Eagle Beach last night, considering what’s happened, but
rules are rules. Besides, it won’t be for long.”

“What do you mean, ‘it won’t be for long’?” I
questioned. “There’s still two weeks before rotation. Today would
have been shift change and you’d be on nights tomorrow.”

From across the wooden kitchen table, he held
my hand. “I’m going to quit, Allex. I can’t do this anymore. The
last cave-in I was trapped in, was while I was married. When I
insisted on going back to work, my wife left me.” He paused. “Not
only will I not risk losing you, I’m getting too old for the risks.
My heart just isn’t in it anymore.”

“Are you really sure you want to do this,
John?”

“No doubts in my mind at all. I just need to
go back long enough to collect my hazard bonus.” He smiled. “Any
injury sustained during a cave-in automatically doubles the bonus,
and Mark has the x-ray to prove this wrist is fractured.”

“They pay you a bonus for being trapped by a
landslide of rock?” I snorted. “It would never be enough to cover
what you endured.”

When he told me how much it was, I was
shocked, and now understood why he wanted it. He had earned every
dime.

“When will you be back?” I asked. Having John
sleeping beside me last night had been my bonus, and I really
didn’t want him to leave again so soon.

“In a couple of days,” he answered. “There’s
paperwork to do and I need to collect all of my stuff from the
house. And I need to say goodbye to those left, and to Steve and
Sandy. They’ve been good to all of us and I’d like to leave them
something. They may be out of a job soon,” John went on. “This was
a very serious accident, Allex. There will be a skeleton crew
clearing the debris and recovering bodies, and after that, the mine
will close for a lengthy investigation. While that is going on, the
rest of my crew will be sent home, and the shift that was still
topside will be reassigned to different location. This is going to
cost the mine millions.”

“Millions? Of dollars? I don’t
understand.”

“Every man that was lost, all fourteen of
them, had a life insurance policy worth one million dollars,” John
stated flatly. “It will be given to whomever they had designated.
Not that it will ever replace the life, but their families should
be okay.”

* * *

After John left to return to Eagle Beach and
start his packing, I went to the office to see Anna, hoping she had
some further news for me.

“Do you have your phone turned off?” she
asked me as soon as I sat in the brown leather chair next to her
big desk.

“Oh, I guess I forgot to turn it back on,
sorry. I didn’t want anything to disturb John last night,” I said,
reaching in my pocket for my phone. I switched it back on and saw
six messages waiting for me.

“I understand. How’s he doing?”

“Better. After being underground for over
forty-eight hours, he didn’t want to go inside last night. In fact,
I think he would have slept on the grass if I had agreed,” I
laughed. “So, I know it’s early, but is there any news from the
mine about the cause?”

“I think it’s going to take a long time to be
sure, Allexa. They won’t even start looking for answers until the
shaft is cleared and all the bodies are recovered. The speculation
is it might have had something to do with the rumblings some of the
survivors reported. That’s just rumor right now,” Anna hastened to
add. “Hard to believe we could have an earthquake around here.”

JOURNAL ENTRY: July 10

I took a leisurely walk this morning along our short
and crumbling road. I’ve been trying very hard to notice any
changes, anything different every time I pass an area. It’s been a
warm and wet summer so far and the road weeds are producing in
abundance. Pale purple asters are peeking out from under the yellow
tansies. The wild redtop grass, thin tawny brown stalks with
elongated seed heads, are now four feet tall. Had it been a normal
time, the county would have been by already to cut them away from
the road. Now they are crowding the asphalt, vying for space with
the shorter, less mature wild wheat. I had an idea that this might
solve an ongoing problem.

* * *

Emilee came bouncing across the driveway as
only an almost twelve year old little girl can do. “What are you
doing, Nahna?”

“I’m so glad you’re here, Emi, I was just
about to come looking for you.” I smiled down at her. She’d grown
at least six inches in the past few months. “How would you like to
help me collect feed for the chickens?” I asked her.

She had that skeptical expression on her face
that I’ve come to recognize as the “are you serious?” look.

We got two pair of scissors and the small
wagon and walked back down the road where I had just been.

“See these seed heads?” I asked and Emi
nodded. “These are called redtop and the chickens will find them
very tasty this winter. They have plenty to eat right now, with
grass and bugs, however, when it snows again, they’re going to get
hungry and we have to make sure they have something to eat or they
won’t give us any eggs!”

At this she smiled. She loved collecting the
fresh eggs as much as she loved eating them. Just then she swatted
at a mosquito.

“First, we’re going to pick some bug dope,” I
announced, and plucked some leaves from the nearest tansy plant.
“Crush them in your hand like this, and then rub it on your arms
and legs. It will keep the bugs away. I’ll do the back of your
neck.” I hope she remembered this trick in the future. There would
be no more sprays or lotions from the store.

I showed her how to bunch a handful of the
Redtop, like a bouquet, then cut just below her fist. It wasn’t
long, maybe a half an hour, and the little wagon was full. We
spread the seed heads on the picnic table for extra drying and went
the other direction down the road to collect more.

“Aren’t these a pretty blue, Nahna?” Emilee
joyfully pointed to a tall stalk with odd looking and distinct
cornflower blue blossoms.

“Good eye, Emi. Those are chicory. The
flowers are pretty yes. What makes this plant special is the root.”
With the spade I had brought with me, I dug down and loosened the
still damp soil around the plant, then gave a steady pull.

“What will you use that for?” she asked.

“I’m going to roast it, then grind it to make
coffee for Grandpa John.” I knew our coffee supplies wouldn’t last
forever and I hadn’t seen even one can in any grocery store. I set
the chicory root aside and we finished filling the wagon with more
seed heads. By the end of the afternoon, we were both tired and
ready to quit.

“There’s a lot of food here for the chickens.
I hope they appreciate all the work we just did and give us lots of
eggs.” Emi was so insistent that I didn’t have the heart to tell
her that all we collected would last only a few days. Our work had
only just begun! Thankfully, I also knew to make the seed go even
further; we could soak it and grow sprouts first, tripling the feed
content.

JOURNAL ENTRY: July 12

Working on picking grains for the chickens yesterday
reminded me of grains for us. I haven’t seen any bags of wheat
berries or barley at any store we’ve been to, although there has
been flour. With all the bread I’ve been baking for everyone, I’m
going through a great deal of that. Jason, Eric and Joshua all get
a loaf every week, and of course we use at least one loaf too. I’ve
even been giving Mark a loaf as a barter payment for the medical
treatment he’s extended to us. That’s five, sometimes six loaves
every week. I’ve tried to mix it up some by making pita and
tortillas. Most everyone still prefers something they can
slice.

* * *

“I don’t like being this low on flour,” I
grumbled as I scraped the bottom of the bin I store it in.

Eric had stopped over after dropping Emilee
and Chivas off at Jason’s for a play and swim day. Amada wanted to
take Jacob swimming at Lake Meade and thought it would be nice if
he had some company. I know she also misses her little Shih-Tzu dog
and she won’t talk about what happened to it.

“I’m not doing anything for the next few
hours, Mom. Do you want to go into town and do some grocery
shopping, see if we can find any?” Eric offered.

“That would be great! Let me wash up and I’ll
be ready.” I sure could use a break, and we’d all agreed that we
would never, ever go into town alone anymore.

I pulled some cash out of the envelope in my
drawer and noticed something strange: there was a lot more in there
than there should have been. I wonder if John was adding more when
I wasn’t looking? I wasn’t in a position to question that right
now. Inflation had gotten mind-boggling. Although the government
was saying the inflation rate was at a plateau, they had
manipulated the figures by removing the high priced items, like
gas, food and medication, from the calculation. The average citizen
still couldn’t buy or even find enough food for his family, and
everyday medications just didn’t exist anymore. Then again, anyone
who needed daily doses of anything from blood pressure meds to
insulin were all dead now.

I took five hundred dollars. These days, five
hundred only bought what fifty did just a year ago. I took five
hundred more, and closed the drawer.

* * *

“Where to?” Eric asked as he pulled out onto
County Road 695 in my new car. I wondered if he wanted the trip
just so he could drive the sleek, smooth riding vehicle instead of
the pickup truck.

“Let’s start at the bulk food store. They
seem to always have something I can use,” I answered. “And I’d like
to stop at the hardware and check on batteries.” As an afterthought
I asked, “Did you remember to bring your military ID, Eric?”

He gave me that “of course I did” look and
said, “Do you think I’ll need it?”

“I just don’t know when we will need what.
They change the rules all the time, that’s all, and it’s better to
be prepared than be refused entry into somewhere we want to
go.”

* * *

The parking lot for the bulk food store was
nearly empty of cars. It looked as though the place was closed,
until I saw someone being let out the front doors. Eric opened the
door for me, and we were stopped by two guards in the glassed-in
room where the carts were kept.

“Identification, please,” one of the very
military looking men stated briskly.

I handed over my Emergency Management badge
to the first guard, while the second one patted me down. I had left
my Kel Tec in the car under the seat, although I still had the
shoulder holster on. The guard stepped back.

Eric handed over his military ID card. The
first guard looked at it quickly, and came to attention, saluting
him with a sharp “Sir!” I was right; the guards were active
military, which I found both interesting and disturbing. Eric
returned the salute and we were passed through the next set of
doors and into the quiet store. I grabbed a cart and wiped it down
with an alcohol wipe. Illness was and may always be a big concern
wherever there were groups of people.

Nowhere did I see the woman who usually
greeted us, which confirmed in my mind that if the military was
protecting the food supplies it meant the government had taken
control of it. This may now mean that my position meant little,
while Eric’s meant more.

“Where do you want to start?” Eric asked,
looking around at the massive building. The shelves were six feet
tall and mostly empty in certain aisles, fuller in others. There
were no extra-large boxes of breakfast cereals, no candy, and no
bags of salty snacks in that first lane that was meant to attract
impulse buying. In the baking section we did find fifty pound bags
of flour, limited to one per person.

“I’ll be right back, Mom. I forgot my cart,”
Eric grinned as he returned to the front of the store.

It had been over a month since his ribs were
injured and though he was healing well, he was also wisely being
cautious. We both lifted the heavy bags, one into each cart. At
that time, I slipped him half of my cash to pay for his
cartload.

I was glad I took the extra money. The cost
of flour was now ten times what it used to be!

We wandered up and down each aisle, our
footfalls echoing in the stillness. It felt like we were the only
people in the store, though I could hear hushed voices coming from
somewhere.

I took a large can of spaghetti sauce for the
Stone Soup Kitchen and two ten-pound bags of pasta which still had
no limits. I put a twenty-five pound bag of rice in Eric’s cart and
two big cans labeled “meat stew”. I wondered what kind of meat it
was. As an afterthought, I put two bags of pasta into Eric’s cart,
too. We each took a five-pound canister of oatmeal. I’d have to
repackage those into smaller, more useful sizes, however, it was
minor extra work for what we were getting.

We passed up the eggs in the cooler. I
refused to take something we didn’t need and that we could provide
for ourselves.

When we came to the cleaning section, I was
pleased that there was dishwashing liquid and clothes soap! Again,
there was a limit, and we were only allowed two each.

The very last aisle was where frozen foods
used to be. The oversized chrome and glass freezers were silent,
emptied of everything and turned off. In the center bunker, there
was locally made cheese from the sole dairy still in operation.
Joshua was doing very well at making cheese, but he hadn’t yet been
able to master all the varieties. I put a five-pound block of
Jacob’s favorite American cheese in my cart, happy to pay the fifty
dollar price tag.