Red Walker

by Scott Allen

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Even from ten meters away, the metal-sided barn smelled awful. Dana had never smelled anything so bad. It was worse than the bathroom in his dorm after one of the men had been sick. As he sat in a plastic chair under a tree, he could see through the barn door that there was a gently sloping concrete floor inside surrounded by heavy painted steel bars, and he could see the pigs moving around. They were, indeed, very large animals compared to Nance. She appeared to be hosing down the concrete floor, and the stinking effluent was flowing down a concrete channel that exited the side of the barn and went down a slope in the direction of the road. It wasn’t hot yet, and he thought how bad it must be later in the day.

  He turned his mind to the book. The brief American history he had been taught in school presented America as a creation of rich white male landowners designed to preserve their wealth and oppress everyone else. This book spoke of the enslavement of Africans and the lack of voting rights for women, but also of the otherwise free life in the colonies. He read the history of the early colonies, then the chapter on the founding of the American republic. America was presented as a place where men had learned to govern themselves, since the British government was far away and did not have a strong presence in the early colonies. So, when the British government tried to force the colonists to pay taxes to support the British army troops in their country, they began to ask why they did not get to vote on such matters. He read the Declaration of Independence, which not only made a case for the independence of the colonies from Britain, but also asserted the moral foundation of the new republic: that all men are created equal and endowed by their creator with rights to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” He had vaguely heard of the concept of God, usually when he overheard a woman cursing. He thought that, while the idea of a creator was unknown to him, those rights ought to be part of any good society. They just sounded right.

  But, had he grown up with those rights? Did anyone in America have those rights? He had a strong feeling that the answer was no, except perhaps for the women who ran things, like the general he had killed. Dana looked at the 90 percent of the book he had not read, and decided it was too early to draw any conclusions. He read on.

  He read about the Constitution and its amendments, including the Bill of Rights in the first ten amendments, the amendments that freed slaves and granted them equal rights, and the amendment that granted women the vote. The people who had written this basic law had really intended for people to be speak their minds and to limit the power of government to control them, as the book pointed out. There was no amendment taking voting rights away from men, although he knew the current version of the Constitution would have it.

  Nance was now moving away from the barn towards a large cylindrical structure made of what looked like corrugated aluminum or steel. First, she checked viewscreen panel on the side of the bin with some displays, and seemed satisfied. Then, she placed a wheeled bin she was pulling below a wide flat spout, and flipped a switch on the side. There was a whirring, grinding sound, and crushed corn kernels began pouring into the bin. When it was nearly full, she flipped the switch off. Then, she took the handles of the bin and began wheeling it towards the barn. It obviously wasn’t easy for her. Just as the day before, she was covered in sweat. Once again, he felt guilty that he couldn’t help. She took the bin into the barn and must have distributed the corn out of his sight inside. She made two more trips, looking a little more bedraggled each time. The sun was high in the sky now, and the day was turning hot.

  Finally, Nance walked up to him, stopping about three meters away. “Well,” she said, “that takes care of the pigs for now. Pardon me for standing so far away, but being near the pigs, I pick up their smell in my clothes and hair. I’m going to walk the cornfield, do some weeding, and check the drip irrigation pipes, and then go in and clean up. If you could, Dana, please stay out here and keep an eye out for anyone approaching. At some point in the next few days, I think, an evacuation team is going to come here, and they may try to force me onto a bus. I’ll tell them go to hell. I’ll shoot anyone who tries to force me. So, just yell if you see anything.”

  Dana was a little shocked that Nance was so ready to kill someone, but he reflected that, just as he had encountered on his trip south, it boiled down to kill or be killed – or at least kidnapped. He thought about how much he had changed. Before he ran, he would never have thought of offering resistance to authority. Now, the thought of it was liberating as well as frightening. He wondered if that was how the American colonists who revolted had felt, liberated but frightened. He had noticed that the signers of the Declaration of Independence had pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their “sacred honor,” to independence. He wasn’t sure what sacred honor was, nor did he have a fortune, but he did have a life, and he knew he wasn’t ever going to live as he had before. He would rather die, and apparently, so would Nance.

  She came walking out of the cornfield. Her sleeves and overalls were wet from the dew that still clung to the corn leaves. Dana realized why she had worn a heavy long-sleeved shirt on a hot day. She had obviously been pulling weeds, because the knees of her overalls and her hands were muddy. She called to him, “Please stay out here until I get cleaned up and come back out.” Dana nodded.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Nothing appeared on the roads below the house. Nance returned after a while, her hair washed and brushed, in a light flowery summer frock that exposed her tanned shoulders and her legs below her lower thigh. She looked very feminine, and Dana felt his body responding, despite the annoying pain in his leg. “How far did you get in the book, Dana?” she asked. Dana showed her that he was about one quarter through the book. “Wow, you read fast!” she said. “Listen, this afternoon I’m going to start working on the monthly books. It’s just routine accounting, but it’s important for me to keep track of where I am financially. Can you stay out here and keep watch? I’ve been told that the evacuation teams knock off work at 5 PM, so I’ll call out around then and make us some supper. I’ll bring out some lunch in a few minutes.”

  She went back in the house and returned with a tray with sandwiches, fruit, and drinks. She sank down on the grass and put down the tray, folding her legs under her. She smelled fresh from a scented soap, and she made a lovely picture on the green grass under the shade. She handed him up a plate with a sandwich made with brown bread, and some strawberries. “The sandwich is pork roast with mustard. I hope you like it,” she said. Dana took a bite and found that the sharp mustard almost made him sneeze, but he enjoyed the taste overall. It was one more new experience. “It was my grandfather’s favorite sandwich,” she said, “and he liked hot mustard. I got the strawberries from a woman down the road.”

  Dana asked her, “So, what crops and animals do you have here?”

  Nance looked up at him, “Just corn and pigs. That’s all I can handle. The government wanted me to raise vegetables, too, but I can only manage a small kitchen garden, nothing for sale. I pretty much had to raise what they told me. But, like I said, the part of the Work Control department that set agricultural quotas and the part that kept track of production apparently didn’t talk to each other, so I just produced what I could. I got paid in money that seemed to be worth a little less every month.” Since Dana had never been paid anything for his work, the whole realm of making and spending money was unknown to him.

  Dana said, “Well, I suppose it’s a good thing that the pigs like corn.”

  Nance replied, “They’ll eat anything, pigs. But, they need more than just corn. Grandpa used to buy 20 kilogram sacks of pig feed, and just supplement it with corn. But, once the men were all taken away, we bought 10 kilogram sacks that we could handle. Now that all the stores are closed, I just feed corn to the pigs. It’s not good for them in the long run. It lacks a lot of minerals and amino acids and other stuff. And, it’s a lot of trouble to make sure it’s free of pests and microorganisms, and kept at the right humidity.�
�

  Dana had no idea what minerals, amino acids, and microorganisms were. “You seem to have learned a lot in college, Nance.”

  “Enough to be a better farmer, I guess. But, every course in the curriculum was filled with gender politics. Even when they discussed pollination, they made it sound like rape. Can you imagine? I had to feed that nonsense back on tests.” She shook her head. “I just tried to abstract the useful stuff. Luckily, my grandfather had lots of old books on farming that helped a lot.”

  Dana decided to change the subject. “Can I ask you a question, Nance? How did you get ahold of a gun? I thought they were illegal for civilians.”

  “They are. But, my grandfather knew we would need to protect ourselves when he was gone. He and my grandmother were friends of Marjorie, who had a very wide network. One of her friends smuggled the gun to us. In turn, we helped out some other people at her request. Marjorie’s network was pretty effective at small things like that. You were lucky to run across her.”

  When they were finished, Nance said, “I’ll leave the pitcher with the apple juice here for you. Just yell if you see anything. I know it’s going to get hotter while you’re here, so your clothes will need another wash, and so will you. We’ll see if any of my grandfather’s old clothes will fit you. I think he was a little larger than you, but that may just have been the perception I had when I was young. Back in about three hours,” she said.

  He watched her walk away with the tray. He noticed the way her hips swung slightly back and forth under her waist, and her skirt emphasized the sway. Once again, his body began to respond. Then she disappeared into the house. Dana did not know what to think. The very concept of having sex with a woman was so deadly to men that he had usually tried to suppress those thoughts. Those taboos didn’t apply here and now, but he was still mentally affected by them. In addition, he did not know what she would think about the idea. She might be horrified and throw him out, or even shoot him. He had no idea if he should bring up the subject or not, or even how. He decided to forget it for now, although it wasn’t going to be easy.

  Dana tried to take his mind off Nance’s body and went back to the book. He had heard very little of the details of American history, except the wars. He discovered that the major argument for the first 88 years of the republic was about the relative power of the states versus the central government. There were arguments over a central bank, a standing army, Federal tariffs, the right of states to be free or slave, and on and on, until the Civil War resolved many of those questions in favor of a stronger central government and the abolition of slavery. He didn’t understand much of the financial concepts. He had never dealt with money. It took a lot of close reading to try to understand the role of money, the federal budget, taxes, and banking in the economy. He was still confused and had many questions.

  Dana looked up from the book and scanned the surroundings. Nothing, except that the sun was now just over the trees, and sunlight had reached his shins and was making them hot. He imagined the roads to the south filled with evacuation busses coming slowly in this direction. He returned again to the book. He had reached the chapter on Reconstruction in the South when he heard Nance’s voice, “Dana, come on in!” He heaved himself out of his chair and tried to walk without the crutch, but it was no go. He gathered up the book, pitcher, and glass, tucked the crutch under his arm, and went in.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The house smelled of something good cooking, although he couldn’t identify it. When Dana came in, Nance turned away from the stove and said, “Why don’t you go take a shower and put your clothes in the washer? In Grandma’s room – I mean your room - at the back of the closet, there’s some men’s shirts and pants hanging behind my grandmother’s old clothes. Also, there’s boxes on the floor with underwear and socks and shoes. See what fits!” she smiled.

  After his shower, Dana found some clothes that more or less fit him, if he pulled the belt a little tight. The shirt was a bit roomy. A pair of brown low-top boots were about right. He re-emerged into the kitchen. Nance looked up. “Well,” she said, “Not bad, although you don’t look anything like my grandfather did in those clothes.” She turned back to the stove but kept talking. “I thought about throwing out all those old clothes after my grandmother died. I used to think she was a little crazy for keeping them. She must have known that Grandpa was never returning. But, when I would ask her why she kept them, she would always say that Grandpa would need them when he came back. I guess I kept them for the same reason, in the back of my head. I must be a little crazy, too.”

  “Please sit down,” said Nance. “Supper’s ready.” It was apparent she had been busy. She laid a large dish on the table with what looked like a roast on it, some potatoes and carrots. “It’s pretty simple food, I know,” she said, “but it’s what I have.” She brushed her hair back with her hand as she straightened up. “About two weeks ago, all the stores in town closed up, so I have been getting along with what I have in the cupboards, what I produce myself, and what I can trade for with other farmers. No one will take American dollars anymore.”

  It was a pork roast, which didn’t surprise Dana, but it was juicy and delicious. He was hungry, and dived into the food, trying to remember to pace himself as his mother had taught. “You probably can’t imagine how good this is to me,” said Dana. “All I had to eat for 9 years was grey nutrition bars. Everything you need to live, but incredibly boring. I used to think I would try to find some way to kill myself if I had to eat another one, but when the time came, I was hungry. Anyway, there was no way I could have killed myself – I had no access to anything dangerous!” He said this with a laugh. He was, for the first time he could remember, feeling rather happy.

  Nance smiled herself, and then looked a little grim. “Are you saying that all you had to eat were those grey bars I found in your backpack?”

  Dana explained the routine of men’s lives between mouthfuls. Nance asked questions about his life, and became more horrified with each answer. “You weren’t any more than a slave!” she exclaimed.

  “That’s kind of what I thought,” Dana said, “especially after I read about slavery in the old South. I was kind of a ‘house slave,’ I guess. I got to go around town and work for the benefit of my” he grimaced, “masters,” but if I had tried to run, I would have been killed. And, I also thought that in the old South, the masters were afraid of the slaves. That’s why they imposed such brutal punishments for not being docile. I’m ashamed that I allowed myself to be treated that way.”

  “There’s nothing more you could have done, Dana. And, you did get away. That took a lot of courage,” Nance replied.

  “There were even more humiliating things they did to us,” asserted Dana. Nance began to ask questions, and Dana opened up and told her about the donations and the suppression shots. She lowered her head and stared at the table. Dana wondered if he had gone too far.

  When Nance raised her head back up, there were tears in her eyes. “You were not only a slave, you were like a drone in a beehive. I always wondered what kind of life my father and uncles would have had if they had been allowed to live. I’m almost glad they didn’t.” She was choking back tears now, and put her head in her hands. “Oh, God, how I miss Grandpa and Grandma!” she cried. Dana was very uncomfortable watching her.

  She finally composed herself. “I wasn’t free either. I was sort of a landowner-serf. But, I had choices, like where I could travel and what I could buy. I organized my own day. I could see old friends from high school, when time permitted. I could travel around in my little vehicle, within my permitted area. At least I had those things. But, I could never have had what my grandparents had – a good loving marriage, children, and a life where I decided what I was going to do with it. I guess it remains to be seen how free we will be under Mexican rule. It’s got to better than what we had.” She finally smiled at him.

  That whole question made Dana squirm. He had no idea what his options were going to be i
n a few months when the Mexican government took administrative control. Would he want to stay with Nance, if she even wanted to stay here, or stay with him? Would he be able to find some sort of paid work in the area? Would he be drafted into the Mexican army? Would he be forced into some kind of work he didn’t want? It was all too big. At that moment, his eyes fell on the viewscreen in the living room area. It was on, but it was just showing some sort of accounting sheet – each line with some words on the left and then numbers to the right. “I see that you were doing the books,” he said.

  “Yes,” she replied. “and I’m also trying to convert all the monetary amounts into pesos, although I just don’t know what the current prices for land, buildings, pigs, and corn are these days. I’m just making educated guesses. I don’t even know the correct exchange rate, because there’s no news being broadcast anywhere around here, and the satellite dish that brings in the news and entertainment channels isn’t receiving. I think the American government changed the codes without telling us here in the new Mexican territories. But, I’ll find out soon enough what kind of income and assets I have. At least I don’t have to pay taxes right now. And, I took all my money out of the bank before the American government capitulated. So, they didn’t steal it before they pulled out.”

  Dana was happy that she had at least some good news. “Can I help you clean up?” he asked.

  “Sure, but not yet,” Nance said with a smile. “I’ve got a special treat for dessert, for a freed slave and a freed serf!” She rose and went into the kitchen area, and returned with something that Dana had smelled but couldn’t identify. “Have you ever had blueberry pie?” she asked. Dana shook his head. She cut a generous slice and Dana was entranced by the wonderful flavors and textures.