Merry's Marauders (Book #2 ~ Scenic Route to Paradise, refreshed 2016 edition)

by Andrea Aarons

  The huge kettle of stew was shrinking fast which was just as well; tonight they were relocating to the home for the elderly up the street. Because of the red tile roof and adobe look, the men labeled the place as the Hacienda.

  Mac was assigning tasks, all the while explaining what they were doing and why. Lenny was tuned-in although he had heard most of Mac’s plan earlier at the kitchen table. Merry looked around at the rest of the group. Patsy and Mrs. Ortiz were probably the most alarmed over the plan to hijack the private retirement home. Merry felt responsible for these women, even for Mrs. Ortiz. How would Luz Garcia know about their new local? And Angel, would she be able to find her way to them up the street? Merry was thinking about Angel when Junior came banging in from the backdoor. Realizing she hadn’t noticed his absence, Merry released a sigh of self admonishment, shaking her head.

  Mac looking to her said, “You, Agnes Merriweather, what is it? Do you have something to say?”

  What the devil? Earlier he is acting like my father and now he is calling me by the name only my mother is allowed to use!

  All the eyes were on Merry and something inside told her to keep quiet. Across the room, Patsy could see Merry was determined to blow her top. Praying under her breathe, Patsy watched the scene as if it were in slow motion as Merry got up, unfolding like a curled cat from her favorite cross-legged position. Merry was ready to spring.

  Junior was in the room now.

  “Hey, Captain Mac,” he said, breaking the spell that Merry had conceded to. Merry folded her arms belligerently. Patsy came over to her, pulling her back to her own spot in an oversized easy chair. Everyone’s attention had turned from Merry to Junior. “I did what you told me. It was all quiet until the sun set,” Junior was speaking. He licked his lips and then looked around the room pale-faced and wild-eyed. He said, “A guy filled the van up with bodies... I’m not lying. He put like 5 or 6 bodies in that white van. I got spooked but I watched anyway.” He looked to Mac and Mac winced but nodded his approval.

  “What else?” Mac asked forgetting all about Merry.

  “The front door was open. I saw lights on in there. I could see a lady. She was helping the man. I didn’t see anybody else and then she closed the door and the man shut up the van and drove away. I waited but then I thought, maybe I should come tell you.” Junior finished and then proceeded to take two tortillas from the plate on the coffee table.

  Mac looked over to Merry and then to Lenny and then around the room. “It seems the center for the elderly has a high death rate.”

  Mrs. Ortiz said, “Well, that place has only 7 or 8 clients at a time and I’m sure that most of those poor people need some sort of artificial support. The electricity went out and so the machines wouldn’t be working...”

  Lenny said, “Yes, but lights? It sounds like they have a generator. My guess is that the life support machines did shut off and for some reason the generator didn’t respond to the blackout quick enough. Nikki, you went to nursing school... does that sound right?”

  Nikki scratched her arm and then combed her hand through her short hair. Finally, she said, “I didn’t graduate but yes, that sounds right.” Mac nodded appreciatively at Nikki. Merry didn’t like his look. Patsy saw it too and she pushed off from the recliner, leaving Merry behind.

  Patsy pointed to Mrs. Ortiz and then to Mac to emphasize her words before saying, “Weeeh, coco! I think it’s high time to let you, Mrs. Ortiz and you, Mac know how much we appreciate your sacrifice. Mrs. Ortiz, you took us into your home like we were family... these tortillas are the best according to Merry and I think I have to agree.” Now Patsy was getting everyone’s attention. Turning she winked at Merry and then like a lawyer Patsy strolled across the room saying, “I speak for all the women, including Mrs. Ortiz I’m sure, when I say what a real godsend you’ve been to us Mac. You’ve described yourself as the Captain of this ship... and we must agree. We’re together in a life raft in this sea of insanity and we are grateful to be your crew.” Patsy nodded as she was talking and soon the gals from the halfway house were all nodding too, including Mrs. Ortiz. Only Merry wasn’t bobbing her head in agreement. She merely watched poker-faced.

  Merry tried to read the expressions on the men’s faces. Preoccupied, Junior was busily finishing the stew and another tortilla. Lenny was sitting backward on a kitchen stool he had retrieved from the other room when Junior came in. He rested his chin on his arms which were crossed over the back of the stool watching Patsy with her wavy, almost black hair streaked with grey, waltz back and forth as she spoke. She typically wore skirts but she had changed into navy blue, velour sweats with a matching zip-up hoody.

  Mac who had been standing before, was sitting on the step that led up into the kitchen. He caught Merry looking at him while all eyes were on Patsy and he smiled. Caught off guard, she smiled too. It was a natural response before looking away but she was thinking of Patsy’s diatribe wondering if Mac would buy into it.

  Patsy was saying, “As our leader, we are indebted to you for your knowledge and skill and protection. In a sense, you are our shepherd and we are your flock. Although some of us are brand new Christians and others perhaps don’t understand the sovereignty of God yet, He remains in control. Our God has allowed you to be our leader; you are His representative and therefore, we surrender to your leadership and protection.” She took a breath.

  Patsy underscored certain words to make her point. The women continued to nod but more uncertain than before. Merry scanned the room and saw that Mac was listening and watching Patsy. He too was nodding. Patsy finished by saying that she would be praying for him - Mac, for God’s intervention and direction and protection.

  Still sitting, Mac said, “I couldn’t have said it better. I thank you too as we all are in this together. If as I have forewarned, we experience a breakdown in the norms of law, you will see how important it is that we work together. As for me being your leader...” Mac hesitated here. His accent seemed heavier as he said, “In life I have both followed and I have led. It is important that you understand that I fully expect you to follow at this point. Later, we might have some American voting but not now... You people like to vote! We must secure ourselves for the terrible weeks and maybe months that are ahead of us. So, tonight we go from here and we make our fortified home up the street. I think we will be busy all night long with this move. In the morning after sunrise, we rest.”

  Junior was sent again up the street to keep an eye on the Hacienda. Merry and her group were to stay behind for now and pack up the cars and Johnny Ortiz’s pick-up truck with goods, to take later. Sylvia and Tina were to finish organizing the two-story which across the street from their new prospective home. The two women took a flashlight and Mac told them to remain concealed as they worked. Lenny, Nikki and Mac left to secure their new living quarters.

  A few minutes later, Junior joined them outside the convalescent center. The boy told them that the high adobe wall in the back enclosed a patio area. There were glass doors opening onto the patio. Mac had already recognized the patio as a possible entry way. He had scoped out the place and there were two windows that opened on the northwestern corner. Nikki guessed that it was the nurses’ quarters. A place this size usually had two people on duty all the time. The windows were a genuine weak point. Mac was sure they were locked but if not, he didn’t want to raise an alarm by trying them. The other weak spot was the roof. If it held a skylight that opened like Mrs. Ortiz’s house, then it was possible that it would be shut but not locked.

  Over the kitchen table, Lenny volunteered to check for skylights. Separating from the three others, he circumvented the place looking for an easy but noiseless way up to the roof. In the end, he chose the adobe wall in the southeast corner of the place. Using one of the flashlights, he examined his options and then took a tight running start. It appeared as if he ran up the wall as his steady controlled climb propelled him up first to the top of the patio wall and then up several feet higher to a wooden viga,
an exterior roof beam. If was not a difficult move but Lenny desired a muffled ascent, too. He finished the fluid climb by lifting himself up and pulling his torso over the extended viga. Breathing hard, not being acclimated to the thin air, he rested awkwardly before shifting to grab the parapet wall. It was not two feet high and he climbed it easily, finding himself standing on a typically flat Santa Fe roof.

  Lenny looked back to where the others waited below. In the moonless dark, he couldn’t make out anything but the short stubby evergreen Juniper and Piñon that grew abundantly in the area. Directly overhead, a few stars shone brightly through the ever present haze. He was positive that Mac and the others could not see him either. As prearranged, Lenny squatted and pointing his penlight in their direction, he turned it on and then off. There was a brief moment before they responded but then a flashlight flickered on and off, twice.

  Remaining in a squat stance, he moved crab-like away from the lip of the roof. After several feet he stood. There were fires burning off in the distance. His bearings weren’t exact but he guessed the fires were mostly downtown Santa Fe about 3 or 4 miles north. Knowing Albuquerque was south and yet looking south, Lenny could see only abysmal black.

  The roof had a few solar panels and was checkered with skylight bubbles. Lenny wanted the kind of skylight that opened, not the permanently closed bubbled sort. He thought the kitchen area would certainly have a skylight that opens. He was right. The kitchen was near the rear of the building. There he found a clear, flat skylight, unlike the opaque ones that he had examined already.

  He sat down and put his head between his knees. He felt like he was going to throw up. Lenny wasn’t a religious man and he wasn’t exactly a moral man. His idea of immoral behavior was turning in library books past the due date or neglecting to separate his recyclables. The last time he broke into someone’s home was when he was 16. He and his school buddy took a six-pack of beer from the neighbor’s open garage and called it quits. Mac assured Lenny that if they didn’t commandeer the home, someone else would and the newcomers wouldn’t be quite as nice as he and Lenny would be. He knew that Mac was right. Junior said that they were hauling dead bodies out of the place just hours before.

  Whoever remained alive in the house below would be better off with the likes of Lenny and Nikki Brown, than maybe anyone else. Lenny remembered reading about the Japan quake and how pets and old people were left to fend for themselves. He wiped the sweat from his face with the brown bandana he bought yesterday at the sporting goods store. He noticed the fabric was stiff; it still smelled new.

  Peering over the edge of the skylight, Lenny could see nothing below. It was completely dark. He took out his knife and slipped the sharp edge under the glass frame. There was little resistance and Lenny realized that the horizontal window was shut but not latched. Using the thick side of the blade, he lifted the glass until his fingers could fit underneath. Looking beyond the glass, he was reassured with the dark cavernous space below. He needed his flashlight to see how the window pane mechanism worked. After a brief examination, he saw that he could lift the glass only 12 inches or so from the outside. He could probably wiggle through but it would be noisy.

  Contemplating, he decided, Someone small like Junior or Nikki would be better.

  A half hour later, Junior was crouching next to him peering into the window well. Lenny turned on the flashlight to show him what lay below. There was a counter edge and beyond that a tiled floor. Lenny switched off the light. Whispering, they discussed their options and Junior went through the opening, leaving his shoes with Lenny. He landed dully on the counter but his next move to the floor could be heard up on the roof, sounding more like a fall with a clash of metal...

  Probably, pots and pans. Lenny shown the light down but Junior was gone. He shut the skylight. To be locked, it would have to cranked tight from inside. The plan had Junior opening the glass patio doors rather than the front entrance. He went to the roof balustrade on the south side and looked down. He didn’t see his sister or Mac but he knew they must be below him in the shadows.

  “Bleach is good,” Merry told Mrs. Ortiz. “When we were overseas, we used it to disinfect just about everything and also, to purify contaminated water... that or iodine. It only takes a few drops.” Merry tightened the lid on the open gallon and then put it and another unopened sealed one into a trunk. There were four containers in the front hall each designated for specific uses. The trunk was being filled with various liquids, including bleach and motor oil.

  “Eeeh, and I thought bleach was only good for making my Dad’s chonies white again,” Consuela remarked with a giggle. Merry kept moving but remembered chonies meant underwear and whenever anyone used the slang, the word was accompanied with a smirk or smile or sometimes, laughter.

  Patsy and Mrs. Ortiz brought the household goods into the kitchen. They had a flashlight - a large, boxy one from Johnny Ortiz’s hunting supplies but the kitchen had only an old kerosene burner lighting the space. It looked to be an antique to Merry. Mrs. Ortiz later told her that it was over 100 years old and that was the reason she carried it in her lap on the drive over to the Hacienda.

  At midnight Junior came in limping through the back door. He told the women about their exploits in taking “the old people’s place” and when they asked about his injury, he said it was nothing. In reality, Mac had told him to get over it because he - Junior was going to be busy all night and he didn’t have time to sit around crying about his clumsiness. Junior was going to tell his sister, Angel all that Mac had said when she came around but he wasn’t going to tell these women and he didn’t.

  Patsy, who came from the old school of Pentecostal saints, grabbed Junior by the arm and prayed for a healing. She surprised the others who gathered in the hallway but no one reacted until she concluded with... “and glorify your name, Jesus!”

  Merry responded, “Amen and Connie take my keys to bring the Bug around front.” She handed her keys over to Consuela and turned to Patsy. “Go get your car from the side of the house and back it up to the front door... please.”

  Resolute, Mrs. Ortiz had second thoughts about abandoning her home but now that the front yard and its landscape of Spring’s first flowers poking through the ground were to be ploughed under by cars coming and going she let out an anguished, “Ohhh...” Followed by, “Well, okay then.”

  Forty minutes later sitting in the front-seat of Patsy’s car with the purple tinted glass lantern in her lap, she realized it had been much more difficult to leave their California home of 30 years then this - her Santa Fe residence. As they drove away, the thought that she had never really made the place her home, came to mind. When her husband, Johnny died, her next plan was to get out of it as quickly as possible, not going back to California... but forward making her life a full circle as Mrs. Ortiz had hoped to return to Las Vegas, New Mexico where she grew up. No, she really never made this house her home.

  With only their parking lights on, as instructed by Mac and reminded by Merry, they pulled up to the front door of their new accommodations. Patsy was clucking disapprovingly with her tongue as she got out.

  The front double doors swung open and Sylvia came toward them. The foyer of the convalescent home was well lit behind her and in no time both cars were being emptied. Mrs. Ortiz dodged the unloading making her way inside, clutching the lantern in one hand and the towel wrapped glass globe that affixed to the top of the lantern, in the other.

  Mrs. Ortiz saw a stranger, a buxom young woman dressed in grey sweats standing behind the narrow receptionist’s desk. Her hands were on her hips and her face under a curly head of red hair, radiated frustrated anger. The older woman nodded pleasantly to her but she received no response. Mac seeing Mrs. Ortiz, came over and gave her a peck on the cheek. She thought he looked like the quintessential kid in the candy store.

  “My dear, give me that lantern and follow me,” he said smiling. She went after him but looked at the woman behind the desk to see her response to his joyo
us behavior. She glared at Mrs. Ortiz and then wrote something down on a pad in front of her. Mrs. Ortiz quickened her pace to keep up with Mac. The building was much bigger than she had realized. They arrived at the kitchen, after walking down a long hall with doors on either side. Mrs. Ortiz was glad to see the kitchen and dining area was hyper-institutionalized and homey... large but homey. Mac set the kerosene lantern on the counter. She put the globe behind it, still wrapped in a towel.

  “There is light in this place for now, so don’t bother using up the kerosene,” he said.

  In her raspy voice Mrs. Ortiz said, “Okay. Now what should I do? Everyone is so busy excepting the pretty redhead at the front desk. I suppose she isn’t too happy right about now, with us moving-in uninvited.”

  Smiling, Mac said, “She may not be happy now - she can leave! but if she stays, I guarantee, she will not be so angry at us. What I would like you to do first, is to go talk to the only elderly soul left in this place. We passed his room in the hallway. He is upset but I think you might be able to help him.” He circled the counter and opened some cabinets. “Then after a few minutes with him, could you come back in here and take stock of what we have? There is a food pantry over there too,” he instructed.

  After pointing toward a darkened rear hallway and without another word, he left her standing by the counter. She went after him down the front hallway. As he went by the patient’s room Mac shoved the door open and looked over his shoulder at Mrs. Ortiz.

  Hesitating, Mrs. Ortiz went slowly through the partially opened door. The faint glow of a muted bedside lamp lit the room. A man in red flannel pajamas was sitting up in bed.

  “Why who are you and where is Nurse Ratchet?” he asked Mrs. Ortiz, seeming quite offended by the turn of events. She stepped in and left the door open for a quick retreat.

  “Nurse Ratchet? Oh, now she can’t be that bad surely,” responded Mrs. Ortiz thinking of the infamous character from literature.