The Journal: Cracked Earth (27 page)

I had forgotten that he was a smoker.
Apparently he had detoxed before he came here, since it’s never
come up. This wasn’t what I expected, so there was no covert way to
ask him about his favorite foods.

* * *

We try to have meals at the table and
together, so after admitting I was getting bored with toast, I
asked what everyone else missed eating.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Jason said. “Deep fried
perch.”

“I want French fries,” Jacob quickly
added.

John looked thoughtful and then said, “Pizza,
with lots of sauce and gooey cheese.”

We all laughed at that, and I knew that in
the back of the freezer were several eight ounce blocks of various
cheese and I was fairly certain there was some mozzarella. I knew I
had stored cans of mushrooms and tomato sauce and that a stick of
pepperoni was in the cooler outside. All these years that I’ve been
prepping, I’ve tried hard to always have on hand enough of whatever
I needed to make whatever I wanted. Now I could make a pizza!

While John was outside getting wood, I pulled
Jason aside and told him of the plans.

“How does Jacob like his pizza? I can arrange
the toppings for what he’ll eat.”

“I’d say a good size single piece will be
enough for him. He always ate those mini-pizzas. Only no mushrooms,
and the pepperoni needs to be cut up small. I’ll do it if you
want.”

* * *

After he was done loading wood behind the
stove, John engaged Jacob in a game of Scrabble. I know how
surprised he was at young Jacob’s adeptness. That boy could spell
anything and he added the scores in his head quicker than John
could write them down. It was delightful to me to see those two
bonding.

During the afternoon class lessons, Jason had
Jacob make John a birthday card. It was impossible to hide making
the pizza from John, but when we sat down for dinner, Jacob gave
John a hug and the hand drawn card. I could see him getting choked
up.

* * *

“How did you know?” John asked me later.

“You told me months ago, maybe even a year
ago,” I said, remembering the time when I asked, and why. I’ve had
feelings for John for a long time, he just never knew it. “I’m
really sorry I have no gift to give you.”

He tightened his grip around me as we lay
there in bed. “That you even remembered is my gift. I can’t
remember ever being so content, Allex, so needed, so wanted or so
appreciated. Thank you.” He kissed me softly.

Today was the first day of the food giveaway and I
wanted to be there. Surprisingly, John let me go by myself.

Before we opened the doors, I called Pam
again. She answered!

“When you called before I was out shoveling
snow off the steps,” she said. “When I tried calling back the line
was dead. Our power was out for a while, and now it’s back on and
steady. Our power lines are tied to another town, and that town has
a hospital so it stays on.”

“Oh, that’s good for you, since you’re all
electric.” I said. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“For the few days it was down, I stayed with
Peggy and Keith,” Pam continued. “I know I don’t always get along
with my son-in-law, but I love my daughter and they have a
fireplace so we burned lots of wood. It helped, though not very
much.”

She had learned really fast it’s not an
efficient way to stay warm. Pam was stocked up from summer canning,
and now her supplies were starting to run low.

“I saw the National Guard a few days ago,”
she said. “Several trucks cruised down Main Street. They never
stopped though. It was like they were just watching, observing and
wanting to be seen.” She was also surprised at how the locals had
come together during this crisis to take care of each other.
Certainly nothing like the big city she had left only two years
ago. I told her I would try to call again in a week.

I returned to the main room, buoyed by
talking to my sister, when the doors were opened. At first there
were only a few who came in, unsure if we were really giving out
food. Once the word spread there were more and more who
arrived.

Anna manned the front desk, wrote down the
names, and gave each person a card for how many household members
they had. Carolyn, and Kathy and I filled predetermined items and
predetermined amounts into a bag or a box, much like they do at the
Food Pantry at the thrift store in town. Yesterday, while I was at
home, they had used those boxes of baggies and filled them with
bulk items. Quarter pounds of sugar, half-pound of pasta, rice and
salt, all of which came from the larger bags that didn’t go to the
Stone Soup Kitchen. Everyone got a roll of toilet paper, a bar of
soap and paper towels. There were a few complaints but the
distribution went smoothly.

I was happy to see Ken come in for their two
bags. Karen was still coughing and didn’t want to spread her cold.
Ken was trying to handle the bags one handed since his arm was
still in a sling.

“Let me put those in the car for you, Ken,” I
offered. When I did so, he thanked me for sending Dawn over. I had
seen her earlier, getting their share for the grandkids, and she
hadn’t said anything about going there.

“She changed our bandages like a pro, then
she gave Karen a bottle of liquid cold medicine and I finally got
some sleep.” He laughed then got serious. “This is all a good
thing,” he nodded toward the building and the food giveaway. “How
long do you think you can keep it up? How long before people get a
bit of strength back and get mean again?”

“I don’t know, Ken. We’ll keep it going as
long as we can.” With an afterthought, I told him Pete was sleeping
here partly to protect the food but mostly so he wouldn’t be in his
empty house. “He will want to go home eventually, of course. While
we have food to give away, this building will need protection.”

* * *

After three hours, we closed and locked the
doors, putting a notice on the door that anyone who did not receive
their share could come back at noon on Friday.

When everyone went for their coats, I had to
remind them to take a bag or box for themselves. Kathy needed two
bags for she and Bob, and Anna was entitled to two for herself and
her husband. Carolyn wasn’t going to take hers until I insisted. If
she didn’t want it, she could give it to the kitchen. She took her
share.

“You have four people at home, you need to
take yours,” Kathy said with her hands on now bony hips. I picked
up an empty box and held it out to her. She filled it with the
predetermined amount of items while Anna made notes that we each
had taken our share this week. Satisfied, we shut the lights off
and locked up. I offered Kathy a ride home and drove her the three
blocks. Carrying the two bags of groceries wasn’t so bad, but she
was still weak.

* * *

I backed the car into the barn and slogged
through the fresh snow to the side door. The heat of the house,
warmed by the woodstove, felt welcoming as I shed my coat and
boots. I asked Jason to get the box of food out of the car for
me.

John had a scowl etched on his bearded face,
wrinkles furrowed in his bald scalp. “Why did you take food? We
don’t need any.”

“I know we don’t need it. If I didn’t take
it, then others would question that. They might suspect that we
have a lot of our own supplies, which could put us in danger.” I
still hadn’t told either of them about Harris. “Don’t worry,” I
said, tugging playfully at his short beard, “I will either sneak it
back into the supply room, or find someone to give it to.”

* * *

JOURNAL ENTRY: January 23

Tomorrow when I go to the office, I’ve got to
get some news. I haven’t a clue what’s going on in our country!

* * *

This morning I found out why John allowed me
go to the office alone. Jason was behind it. They were both aware
that the coffee was running low. That’s why I had switched to tea.
Jason was more familiar with my storage than John was, and knew
where he might find more. The morning of John’s birthday when I
said I was tired of toast, Jason wanted to do something about it.
He knew that I would never allow him to share precious eggs, which
were sometimes Jacob’s only source of protein. He remembered items
that I had forgotten about, like oatmeal.

Last summer, he helped me inventory my
long-term food shed, where I stored food that tolerated not only
the heat of the summer, but also the freezing days of the winter.
Food like the wheat berries, sugar, rice, beans and cereals like
grits and oatmeal in sealed five gallon buckets. Also items like
coffee. There were ten cans! I had forgotten what was in there, and
my inventory list was on my silent computer. The shed was half
buried in snow right now and it took both of them to dig it out
enough to open the doors.

For breakfast Jason fixed steaming bowls of
oatmeal, sprinkled with dark brown sugar, also from a forgotten
bucket. We each had a small glass of Tang
and
a full pot of
coffee. I was very touched by their thoughtfulness.

After breakfast, I went back to the office to
see if I could find any news on the computer. Not knowing what
filters or restrictions might be on the township owned computers, I
took my laptop, and was glad I did, as the place was busy. I pulled
out my wad of paper towels and disinfectant, sprayed my desk,
chair, and wiped it all down. Others were forgetting we were still
in an epidemic. I wonder how many of them would get re-infected
from carelessness.

I set up the laptop on my desk in my corner
of Anna’s office. I still had the view of Fram’s store, and
remembered watching the tanker of diesel. For a moment I wondered
how that young man, Marie’s cousin, was doing, and if his son was
well. I brushed them from my mind. I can help only so many. Right
now, I needed to know what was going on in the world. I logged on
using the local server.

I was able to surf the internet for about
twenty minutes, finding only local bits and pieces that had
obviously been sanitized. A little spritz of cleaner and the news
was all happy again. One article caught my attention—North Korea is
preparing another long range missile test with the intent of
hitting the U.S. This time they are threatening to arm it with a
nuclear device. They could be trying for an EMP. That’s exactly
what we don’t need, complete power loss!

Another news clip was on the widespread
nature of the flu epidemic. Officials were urging everyone to get
their flu shot— isn’t that a bit late?— and to cover their mouths
when coughing. Oh, good grief. People are dying and they don’t want
to talk about it.

Rick in Wisconsin emailed me about the new
trucking routes that were being established around the fault, up
through Canada! The most used route is now across the west to I-29
up to Winnipeg, across Ontario, with routes cutting off down
through Duluth, Sault Ste. Marie, and Toledo, the main crossing
point to get supplies of food to the East Coast and Washington,
D.C.

The next email was from Ken in Texas. Our
government has pulled all troops from the Mexican border in order
to keep peace in the major cities. Now the Texas Patriots are
manning the crossing and patrolling the border, and are doing a
better job of it. Something troubled me. I did a quick search on
“peace in major cities”. Virtually every major city east of the
fault line is under martial law and is in twenty-four hour
lockdown. Every city with a population over 100,000 is under
martial law, but not locked down. The Upper Peninsula has escaped
this, since it falls under the category “as needed”. The largest
city is Marquette, and has a population of slightly over 21,000.
From what Tom told me, there are curfews and travel restrictions,
yet so far, no martial law.

I closed the laptop after saving a few things
to read later. Yesterday, before he “let” me venture out on my own,
John asked me to wear a watch and to promise to never be gone past
4:00 P.M., unless prearranged. How can I argue with someone who
cares so much about me? It was 3:35 P.M. and I
wanted
to go
home. My head was spinning from all of the news.

* * *

At home I put together a batch of pita bread.
It was be a great way to have Jacob’s sprouts, which were now ready
to eat. Fresh greens, live food, and the most nutritious thing we
can eat. The warm bread stuffed with the sprouts and a drizzle of
salad dressing was wonderful. Jacob wouldn’t eat them, of course,
and had a grilled cheese instead.

* * *

JOURNAL ENTRY: January 25

This morning I woke to more howling winds and
a ferocious snowstorm outside. It was just sunny yesterday! What a
cruel reminder that our weather can change literally overnight.

One of the things that I downloaded but
didn’t read yesterday was a listing for local ham radio operators.
Perhaps there is someone local that can shed some light on the
news. That will have to wait until I get back to town or we can run
the generator to power the laptop.

There was something that was in the back of
my mind all night about the news that I read. It occurred to me
this morning that there was no mention of the New Madrid Fault
quakes. None. The news has shifted back to the hurricane victims,
and the upcoming Super Bowl. What a strange country we live in,
where a sporting event takes precedence over a major, multi-state
disaster.

* * *

Jacob had his usual scrambled eggs for
breakfast plus a glass of Tang. The three of us have agreed that
since Jacob has taken to the new taste, it will be his. We can take
vitamins instead. Vitamins are something I hadn’t given a great
deal of thought, so while the storm raged outside, the three of us
did an inventory.