By the author of Dear Diary: It’s Me, Jessica
Dear Diary,
It’s me, Jessica.
“Let me check on the stew,” Mom said as she put her cards on the table and went over to the Dutch Oven hanging over the fire in the fireplace. Dad had built what looked like a very small swing set inside the fireplace from the pipes he found. The Dutch Oven hung to one side of the fire for low and slow cooking. “Hummmm, about another hour, I think. I can add the rest of the vegetables now, though.” Mom went to the kitchen while Rae, Allison, and I waited. We were playing rummy.
“Rae, how are you doing with knitting?” I asked.
“Better! Much, much better.”
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“Oh, Rae. You are being hard on yourself,” Allison said. “You are just starting out.”
“Honey, I would not let Samson or the puppies sleep on the first few Afghans I tried.”
Allison looked at me and rolled her eyes.
“Once I get done with this Afghan, I am going to try something a little more complex like putting cables into a cowl.”
“That sounds neat,” I replied as Mom sat back down after she put the vegetables in the Dutch Oven.
“Whose turn is it?”
“Yours, Mom.”
While Mom looked over her cards, Rae continued, “I went to Four Corners the other day and traded for some more yarn. Oh, Savannah delivered another baby with Daniel assisting.”
“Boy or girl,” Mom asked as she laid a card down.
“Boy.”
“How many deliveries does that make for Savannah?” I asked.
“This is her third, I think,” Rae answered, drawing a card. “Daniel said the postpartum monitoring is just as important as the delivery.”
“Well, every bit of experience Savannah can get makes her that much better,” Mom noted.
“Right,” Rae agreed as she discarded.
There was a tap on the back sliding glass door, it was HAM Guy. Mom waved him in.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” he greeted us as he slid the door closed behind him. “Got your laptop for you, all charged up,” he said as he placed it on the counter.
“Thank you. What do I owe you?” Mom asked.
“Got any dried herbs you’d be willing to part with?”
“Oh, I got plenty.” Mom got up and went to the pantry. She named them off as she handed zip-lock bags to him. “Thyme, basil, oregano, parsley, rosemary.”
“That is plenty, thank you.”
“Save me the plastic bags.”
“Will do.”
“Any news on the radio nets?” Rae asked.
“New guy popped up on the net the other day, outside of Philadelphia. Said about a week after the power went out, people started coming out of the city, looking for food. People on the opposite side of Philadelphia, they used whatever heavy machinery they had and dropped all the bridges over the Schuylkill River cutting off Philadelphia entirely.”
“Chicken and biscuits! They were just looking for food.”
“Yeah, I get you Rae. But Philadelphia is the sixth-largest city in America, with over a million people. Even if only 10 percent left the city heading West, you are still talking about over 100,000 hungry people. He said it only delayed the inevitable. The food in the sub-burbs ran out a few weeks later. Many left the suburbs and went in search of food in the countryside. Some people out there knew they would be coming, just like the people coming out of Philadelphia, and they dropped bridges or used construction machinery to make barricades out of big rigs, dump trucks, buses, whatever was available. If there were no bridges, they blocked the roads. There was fighting too, of the fist and gun kind.”
“How did he survive?” I asked.
“He was a little cagey about that. I do not want to say some of us in the HAM community are a little paranoid, but some of us in the HAM community are a little paranoid. He hinted he had some of those freeze-dried food survival buckets. He rationed them after he used up all his canned and other non-perishables. Not uncommon for us HAM types to have those; I even had a few, but not a dozen. After that, squirrels, rats, whatever he could find.”
“Jamal says a well-seasoned rat burger is not that bad,” I shrugged.
“Well, he heard rumors of there not being so much as a rat, cat, dog, or pigeon to be found in all of Philadelphia, but he cannot say if that is true or not.”
“People get hungry enough,” Mom added and left it at that.
“In lighter news, the King of New America is changing President’s Day to King’s Day. He will ride in the back of a convertible down the main street and allow all his adoring subjects the honor of his presence. His economic adviser, the turkey, will join him, and his chief of staff, Betsy the cow, will be driving.”
“I know he is crazy, but he does offer a degree of humor to the situation,” Rae said with a chuckle.
Entry two
As I approached the East gate to Four Corners, Tom and Collins recognized me and opened the gate. Once through, I pulled up my horse to chat for a few minutes with them. Tom gave me his best impression of a British army salute. It was so over the top I could not help but laugh. Collins just rolled his eyes.
“Any news?” I asked Collins while Tom made a few outrageous left-face, right-face, and an about-face and nearly tripped himself.
“We have some newcomers. Yesterday, about a dozen or so people came through the South gate.”
“Not con artists?”
“No. They had things to trade. Sean talked to them for a bit before letting them pass. Savannah and Daniel checked them out medically. They are on the thin side, but who isn’t? Talk to Sean. He will have more details.”
I nodded and nudged my horse toward Four Corners proper. Yellowteeth Bob was busy recording a deal, glanced up as I went past, and gave me a friendly nod. I waved back.
I tied my horse to the hitching post behind and to one side of Sean’s shack. Sean had a number of people waiting for him to record a deal, so I decided I would pop over to Savannah and Daniel’s medical station for the story.
“A couple of families, a few people by themselves, pushing grocery carts, pulling garden wagons, a few with nothing more than a backpack and what they had on,” Daniel commented.
“They were all on the thin side, more so than even us. They have been on the road walking for months,” Savannah added. “They had a few things to trade but were more than ready to work for a meal.”
“After Sean talked with them and we checked them over, they came in and, true to their word, began to do whatever was asked of them.”
“I got the impression they are just glad to be off the road and have some place safe to sleep. After a well-deserved dinner, their mood seemed to brighten. We were even able to get them a hot bucket of water to take a sponge bath. After that, they got out whatever they had to use to sleep on and were asleep in minutes. Everyone is keeping an eye on them, but they seem to be okay. Maybe a bit on the guarded side. When I saw them this morning, they seemed a little more talkative,” Savannah said.
“When you see them, try to be friendly,” Daniel offered.
Dad asked me to stop by Nate’s with some drawings for the new water wheel Dad had been kicking around. On my way to Nate’s, I saw a few of the new arrivals carrying buckets of water. They reminded me of when I first met Rae and the others who were with her. They were not thin. They were what my mom called gaunt. The men’s hair and those old enough to have beards were uneven, disheveled, and even greasy. I said hello to them as they hurried past. Only one looked up, gave me a weak smile, and continued on.
I found Nate outside of his RV.
“Good morning, Jessica. What brings you by?”
“Dad asked me to drop these off to you. New drawings of the water wheel,” I responded as I pulled the drawings out of my backpack.
“Ah! I have been looking forward to these,” he smiled as he opened them. “I will get right on these. Have them for you tomorrow!”
“Thanks, Nate,” I smiled. “See you tomorrow.”
On my way back to get my horse, I saw one of the women working to knead bread. She seemed very intent on the task. Like the men, she too was gaunt. It was hard to tell her age. Her clothing was dirty, her jacket torn at one elbow. I found myself staring and looked away in shame. She was not some animal at a zoo to be stared at in wonder.
About 1stMarineJarHead
1stMarineJarHead is not only a former Marine, but also a former EMT-B, Wilderness EMT (courtesy of NOLS), and volunteer firefighter.
He currently resides in the great white (i.e. snowy) Northeast with his wife and dogs. He raises chickens, rabbits, goats, occasionally hogs, cows and sometimes ducks. He grows various veggies and has a weird fondness for rutabagas. He enjoys reading, writing, cooking from scratch, making charcuterie, target shooting, and is currently expanding his woodworking skills.
One Response
I would like to see some of these folks join the Four Corners community.
I read once how an American pioneer town screened folks coming through for those they wanted. They asked them what people were like where they had come from. Those from mean places were told that people were the same way here, and they moved on. Those whose previous neighbors had been nice were told that folks were the same way here, and that town got pleasant newcomers.