The Journal: Cracked Earth (12 page)

After the Pledge of Allegiance, Anna opened
the meeting to public comment. All hell broke loose when Lenny
started shouting at us. Anna stood up and told Lenny to shut up or
Karen would escort him out. I hadn’t noticed Karen and Ken standing
on either side of the room serving as our new police force. I
grinned. Lenny would be shamed by Karen ejecting him, but he would
have been okay with Ken doing it. It’s that macho thing. Anna
reminded the audience that all who wished to speak would have their
turn and were limited to three minutes each. I pulled a timer out
of my pocket and set it on the table in front of me. All eyes went
to that small device. There’s no arguing with a machine.

“Now, Lenny, what is it you want to say?”
Anna said, giving Lenny the first spot.

“First, what’s
she
doing here?” he
said while glaring at me.

“Allexa? Well, Lenny, you should remember
that Allexa is the emergency manager,” Anna replied. Her voice was
saccharine sweet and I knew what was coming. “You were the one who
appointed her eight years ago and authorized her to take all the
classes that she needed to know her job well. Since we are deep in
an
emergency
,” her voice suddenly got very steely, “she’s
been activated and is my second in command. Do you object?”

“I guess not,” he mumbled. “Anyway, why can’t
we get any gas? When will the power be back on? Where has all the
food gone? If it weren’t for Carolyn and the church, we’d all be
hungry!”

Anna hit her gavel on the table for order
after the crowd yelled in agreement.

I rose slowly, trying to keep my composure.
Were they really that stupid? I said nothing for a few minutes and
the room gradually came to a quiet stillness.

“I have a question for you, Lenny,” I said,
looking him in the eye. “What do you need the gas for? Your car?
The 4-wheeler in the driveway? A generator? The township needs that
gas for the fire truck to put out the fire next door to your house
so
your
house doesn’t burn down. The township needs that gas
for the EMS to get
your
sorry ass to the hospital when you
have a heart attack! The township needs that gas for the generator
to run the pumps that keep water coming to
your
faucet!” I
took a short breath. “We just don’t know when or even
if
we
will get another gas delivery! Don’t you understand that?? And
power? I’m assuming you’re referring to the electricity that comes
from Wisconsin,” I continued. “You remember Wisconsin? One of the
states affected by the
two massive earthquakes
that have
taken this entire country to her knees?” I knew my voice was rising
in pitch; I couldn’t stop myself. “I talked with Emergency
Management in the county seat a few days ago, before we
all
lost cellphone service, and was told we were SOL! We are too small
to be of a concern to the government. Our power stays in a bigger
city. So we are on our own. Do you hear me?
ON OUR OWN!”
I
let that sink in a minute. “I tell you what, Lenny, and everyone
here,” I said sweeping my arm across the audience, “I will allot
anyone who wants it five gallons of gas to get into town, but you
can’t come back.”

Anna’s head snapped around at me. I knew she
wasn’t expecting that. Frankly, neither was I.

“What do you mean, we can’t come back?”
Lenny’s wife, Anne, asked. The room was silent.

“If you’re going to take precious resources
from the town, then you can’t return to take even more. It’s that
simple. There are shelters in the city where you will be kept warm
and fed. We can’t do that on such a scale here. The County EM said
they can’t send us any food either. No power, no food, no gas, no
help. So you are welcome to leave. Next spring, when we no longer
need heating and we can all get a garden going, you can return.
It’s your choice.”

“Rick, you have the floor, three minutes,” I
said when I saw his hand shoot up for a question.

“What about those of us who want to stay, but
don’t have a woodstove for heat? It’s really cold out now.”

“Good question, and one of the reasons this
meeting was called. We would have addressed this already if the
last
meeting hadn’t dissolved into a shouting match,” I
said, making it a point to look at Lenny, who looked down at his
toes. “Anna?”

“We know it’s cold out,” Anna said, “and we
know it’s going to get colder since the winter is only starting. I
have a list here of those who have wood heat and those who don’t.
This is completely voluntary. Nobody has to share their home with
anyone else unless they want to. Nobody will be assigned, and it
must be mutually agreeable. For those who may be going to another’s
home, understand and remember you are a guest there and can be
asked to leave at any time. You should be willing to help with
chores and not expect to be waited on in any fashion. You should
also share any food that you might have.” She pushed the clipboards
to the front of the desk. “You can add your name to the lists on
your way out. We will compare them and notify you later.”

“If you were smart enough to stock up on
supplies for the winter,” I added, “good for you! I want this
very
clear—there will be
no
confiscation of food. I
know this has been a concern for some of you.” I noticed a few nods
in the audience. “What you have is yours. Period. Fram’s is running
low, yes, and that’s because he can’t get restocked, just like he
can’t get more gas. There’s nothing he can do about it and it
certainly isn’t intentional. Joe Fram has lived here in Moose Creek
all his life, just like you, and you know he’d rather earn a buck,
so he’s not keeping anything from you on purpose.” They chuckled
over this. “Now, that being said,
if
you have anything to
share take it to the Stone Soup Kitchen. That’s where it will do
the most good. Also, I’m using my authority to extend hunting
season, but only on the condition that if you take anything out of
the normal season, you take
half
of it to the Soup Kitchen.
Half a deer should last you two weeks, and then you go and get
another. It’s simple. Do not abuse this, people,” I pleaded. “If we
work together, we
can
survive!”

The room erupted in applause, which was
unexpected and embarrassing. At least the town’s people were in
agreement to do something proactive.

Another topic of discussion was what we were
going to do about our trash. I hadn’t thought much about it, the
chickens get anything organic, I burn anything that’s paper, and I
have very little of anything else. That wasn’t the case with most
others. Usually, everyone takes their trash to the transfer station
on Tuesday afternoon, but the compactor needs electricity to work.
We used to have an actual dump many years ago that we might have to
reopen. That’s something that will have to be remedied before it
gets to be a problem.

* * *

JOURNAL ENTRY: November 27

Yesterday, after everyone left the township
offices, Anna and I went over the two lists. The one of the folks
who had wood heat and were willing to take someone in was a lot
shorter than the list of those who needed heat. We made notes
beside each name for what we knew of the people: age, sex, health,
where their house was, and anything that we thought was useful.
Then we went over the list with Carolyn. We were able to make
recommendations for less than a dozen people. It was a start.

I was surprised at how many people are so
dependent on their propane gas or electricity for heat. We are in
“wood country” and it’s virtually free for the taking in the right
areas, but it is still a chore to cut it, haul it, split it, stack
it, let it cure and then haul it into the house daily to burn. The
upside is that when the power goes, you still have heat and a means
to cook. Those with a propane furnace rely on the power to run that
furnace and are soon without heat.

Bob and Kathy are still holding on because
although their furnace won’t run, their gas fireplace in the
basement will work being lit with a match and doesn’t require a
blower. Their extra bonus is they are one of the few that have a
one thousand gallon tank and recently had it filled. Most of us
only have a five hundred gallon tank. I talked with Kathy about
this when they were over for Thanksgiving dinner. They have shut
off all of the rooms in the basement except for the bathroom and
the main area, which they now use as a bedroom and living room.
They are getting a real taste of living in a one-room cabin. Bob is
native to the area and has experienced many harsh winters. He knows
how quickly water pipes can freeze without heat and then burst when
heat is restored. He had the foresight to shut off all the water to
the upstairs and then drained those pipes. Kathy hung blankets on
the glass door to the lower deck to keep the chill out.
Fortunately, the gas grill they’ve been using has a direct line to
the tank, and doesn’t use the smaller twenty pound tanks like mine
does. Now, if they only had stocked up on food.

On the rare occasion that I need something
quick, I light the burner of the stove with a match, however the
oven won’t run without power. I’m completely dependent on the wood
cook stove for baking. Because of the nature of how it heats I have
to do any regular baking early in the day. Consequently, with all
these meetings in the morning, I’m now out of bread. I’ll have to
remedy that tomorrow. I’m finding that I really have to pre-plan so
many things now.

I pulled some chicken out of the freezer for
dinner tonight. The freezer is finally starting to look less
packed. Back in October I filled it with good sales. I can’t
complain about my ‘paranoid’ prepper buying habits now. It’s
keeping me fed and alive.

* * *

It’s hard to believe that tomorrow is the
first day of December. Twenty-five days left until Christmas. What
kind of Christmas will there be this year? We can barely drive
anywhere, can’t call anyone. I can’t easily visit anyone except Don
and Nancy, there’s no mail and most people barely have enough to
eat. I wonder if at some point I should make some cookies and visit
David and Jane next door, twenty acres over. I know they use wood
heat and have a generator, yet I have no idea how prepared they
were for something like this. I have gifts for everyone already.
I’m glad that I shop early and practical. I have a new Carhartt
jumper and jacket for Jacob, in the next size up. His old jacket is
getting tight on him but he loves wearing it since it matches his
daddy’s. I got Jason a set of four new LED flashlights and a
knick-knack table for Amanda that looks like a sunflower. I bought
that last June. I don’t know when I will be able to give them their
gifts and this saddens me. I think that the next time I’m in town
at the offices, I will see if their road is clear enough for me to
get down it, at least to see them. I almost feel silly. I just saw
them last week. As the days get shorter and the snow gets deeper, I
feel isolated from my family.

* * *

I had a visitor this afternoon. I heard a car
pull into the driveway, and Tufts growled, sounding the alarm and
headed for under the bed. He doesn’t like strangers. It was a
familiar jeep. I knew it was local, and I couldn’t place it, until
Lenny got out. What the hell?

I opened the sliding door and looked at him
coming up the walk, carrying a heavy garbage bag.

“Can I talk to you for a minute, Allexa?” he
asked meekly.

I was not afraid of Lenny, even if he is a
jerk, arrogant, even obnoxious at times. I opened the door for him
to step in.

“Thank you. Nice and warm in here,” he said
making conversation, which made me a touch uneasy.

“What is it that you want, Lenny?” I said
getting right to the point. He was making me nervous.

“Pastor Carolyn told me what you’ve done.
Are
doing,” he said, his blue eyes magnified behind the
thick lenses of his glasses welling up. “That the soup kitchen was
your idea, and that it was you who gave the church the turkey so we
all could have a Thanksgiving dinner.”

Uh, oh. Where was this going? Was he going to
hit me up for some food? This was exactly why I didn’t want her to
tell anyone!

“I wanted to thank you and apologize to you
for being such a jerk,” he said. “And I want to give you this to
thank you.” He handed me the garbage bag.

“What is it?”

“It’s a hind-quarter. I got a deer yesterday,
a six pointer,” he grinned. “I gave half to the church like you
asked us to do. I kept the other quarter for me and Anne. I figured
if you could share with all of us, I could share with you.”

“That’s very generous, Lenny. Thank you.” I
meant it. I shifted the bag to my left hand, and held out my right.
He looked down at my extended hand, pulled off his glove, and shook
my hand.

Maybe the town will make it after all.

* * *

With the gift from Lenny, I’ve spent most of
the day processing the meat. I cut all of the meat away from the
bones and set the bones cooking for soup, along with my usual herbs
and seasonings. I’ve cut most of the meat into chunks for either
canning as stew meat or grinding into sausage. Glad I checked the
premixed spice supply back in September. I pulled some of the pork
chops out of the freezer to grind too. I’ve got enough to do some
breakfast sausage. I need to check some of my older recipe books
for how to make my own sausage spice someday.

I have been thinking about this turn of
events. Lenny really surprised me. Carolyn surprised me too.
Although she agreed not to tell anyone, she picked the right one
to
tell. I just might have an ally now. I wonder what he
said to her that prompted the disregard for confidentiality?