America: The Eagle has Fallen

by Gordon Ballantyne

  The Chief looked at the Mayor and vice versa, neither wanting to be the one to give the bad news to the population. Those that were forced into the camps would be pissed while those that wanted the camps would also be pissed since it was their idea in the first place. Finally they nodded to each other and turned back to the table.

  “So what is the going rate for diesel Mr. Bujacich?” asked the Fire Chief.

  “A pound of fish per gallon,” growled Mr. Bujacich.

  “And the price for a pound of meat Mr. Stutz?”

  “Five pounds per cord of wood,” answered Mr. Stutz. “But bullshit is free.”

  We went on back and forth for a few hours until the standard weights measures and cost of goods were ironed out between now and winter. We all knew that prices would swing pretty dramatically once the harvest was in and every calorie was accounted for. The City would be the biggest problem since the land was too constrained and the density too large to independently standalone but we would all do our level best to procure enough food to get the population through the winter. We have collectively lost about forty percent of the population with the bulk of the loss in the City proper. These were our neighbors and friends albeit our slightly backwards yoga studio attendee types. The Fire Chief and Mayor left the room.

  “What do you think?” Mr. Stutz asked.

  “I think we’re fucked,” I said. “It is all riding on Mr. Bujacich here. The sea is the only place with enough resources until the spring planting season.”

  Mr. Stutz chimed in. “We don’t have the herd sizes yet for the entire population but if we start killing the animals now then we will have a long term problem. My poor bulls and rams haven’t screwed this hard in decades. The poor things are going to keel over from exhaustion but if I can double the size of the herd this year and next we will have a chance.”

  Mr. Bujacich growled. “If that asshole Mayor can get his dick out of Barney Fife’s ass for five minutes and get me some gun boats, some diesel and some barges then I can get all ten purse seiners running. Without those fishery ass hats running around I can bring in eight to ten thousand pounds a day depending on the size of the salmon run by netting off the rivers. We’ll have to go farther north in the winter so the catch will drop to around five thousand pounds since I will have to tender the catch all the way back unless a crab boat out of Seattle wants to join up with us. The Norwegians are nuts but they are honest and their boats can handle the trip instead of the Mayor’s floating sweat shop stink barges.”

  “Well,” I said thoughtfully. “Our total population based on the last census is that we have around eight thousand mouths to feed. I hate to lose any but we will lose around ten percent of the remaining to old age and lost hope. We each have charities of our own in our towns that we are supporting. Perhaps we can help out one in the City if they have some clergy with their heads screwed on straight. I won’t donate to the Mayor or the government but if they have a saintly community minded priest who doesn’t use the word tithe in every sentence then I’ll do what I can and would encourage you both to do the same. Well gentlemen, it has been a pleasure but I have the rest of the crop to bring in, food to process and seeds to harvest.”

  “You mean my seeds don’t you?” asked Mr. Stutz

  I took five hundred paper dollars out of my pocket and tossed it on the table. “Here is your five hundred big ones Stutz, don’t spend it all in one place. Maybe you can roll those up and light your cigars with them.”

  “Fuck you Robertson. See, I told you Bujacich, this little tick turd is no good. Say hi to Cindy for me. Damn it Bujacich, quit drinking all my scotch, damn Croatians, always at the bottle, especially if it isn’t theirs.”

  I laughed as I walked over to my bicycle and pedaled home.

  CHAPTER 5

  The following week we concentrated on pulling in the rest of the harvest. Cutting wheat by hand with scythes was back breaking work, especially when your cutting implement was a modified machete with a shovel handle. The cut stalks were banded, hauled up and left to dry in the driveway where we would thresh them with a modified shovel flail. We quickly learned not to let the chickens free range while this was going on since chasing a hundred chickens away from the grain was like herding cats. We separated the wheat from the chaff and stored the wheat berries in my long term food storage bags. The whole grains would store longer than if we ground it all up into flour. We kept the straw for the chickens, cows, goats and our two horses to bed in. The late vegetables were all harvested and we spent a week straight canning all the vegetables in the pressure canner or water bath depending on the acidity of the vegetables. It was wash, peel, slice and repeat ad nausea but the harvest was plentiful and we were all glad to have it. The kids also harvested all the blackberries on our property and we made preserves and even had a try at making blackberry wine. Randy had devised a Rube Goldberg looking machine that fitted on the rear of the tractor PTO attachment to grind the grain into rough flour and we used the small electric grinder in the kitchen to further screen and grind the rough flour into baking flour. Randy wanted to take the kitchen grinder apart and figure out how to modify his machine but I explained to him that cracked wheat went farther and was more nutritious than baking flour.

  “I’m pretty sure the rest of the neighborhood are not making cakes, cookies and pies Randy,” I explained. “They are making bread and biscuits.”

  “OK, sorry,” he said with his eyes downcast. “Hey, we promised Ginny we would bring the pressure canner up since none of her posse had any.”

  “You just want to see Allison the Florence Nightingale nurse up in the cul-de-sac. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you noticing her.”

  “Why, did Ginny or Allison say something to you?” he asked excitedly.

  “Are you serious?” I asked. “Are we suddenly in high school? Here we are at the end of the world and you are looking for love. Maybe you can send her an emoji text message? I don’t think she is looking for a bald plumber who can’t pull up his pants or shoot straight. Just sayin’.”

  “It worked for you didn’t it? How Belle ended up with a shit bird like you for a husband is beyond me. Thank God your daughter looks like her mother.”

  We walked up to the cul-de-sac and saw Ginny holding court with her hen posse. “Now ladies, fill the jars with the vegetables and the juice I made you. Fill these ones up leaving a length of your thumbnail at the top…no, your thumbnail now, not the way they used to be with your French manicure press on nails. Angela, use the measuring stick I gave you and stir out all the air bubbles and fill the liquid to the exact spot I marked on the stick. Good, now Trudy, wipe the top of the jar and pull the lid out of the boiling pan with the magnet I gave you and put it on the jar. Yes, I know you are a bit clumsy so you can put the ring on the top but only screw it down halfway. Now put it in the rack and when you have six ready to go, give me a holler.”

  Ginny saw us and waved us over. “I have no clue how this species of women ever survived. Did you bring me a pressure canner? Excellent…Randy, please set it up over there. Hopefully these wilting flowers don’t blow us up or give us all botulism, it might be a mercy for some of them though.”

  I laughed. “Ginny, I need some five-pound flour sacks made please if you can get any of these ladies to sew in a straight line.”

  “How many?”

  “Say thirty for now,” I replied. “I suppose I could pay you another tub of seeds so you can process the entire harvest this year.”

  “Done and thank you,” she said, giving me peck on the cheek. “I do have a favor to ask though. I don’t want to be a bother but I was wondering if you could give me a ride to the services on Sunday. I heard that the hospital is finally under control and I like to ask around about my son.”

  “Not a problem Ginny. I’ll do you one better,” I said while pulling my radio off my belt. “This is Savvy builder calling the Chief, over.”

  “Go for the Chief,” I heard over the radio.

  “Do
you happen to know if there is a Doctor Reynolds working at the hospital? Over.”

  “Yes, I am just heading that way. Over.”

  “Can you please tell him that I have a special package for him at church this Sunday? Over.”

  “I’ll pass your message. I hope it is important to be calling me on the emergency line. Over.”

  “It is critical. Over and out.”

  Ginny shuffled up to me with tears in her eyes and gave me a big hug. “You have made me the happiest woman alive right now. My boy is alive, my family is safe and I actually matter again.”

  “Oh Ginny” I said all misty-eyed. “Half of these people would not be alive right now if it wasn’t for you.”

  “Oh stop caterwauling like an old woman,” she said composing herself. “Now you and Randy quit messing about, get out of my kitchen and go bring me a deer. Randy dear, Allison is a couple of neighborhoods down tending a cut and won’t be back until later so get busy, daylight is burning.”

  I turned to Ginny with a smirk on my face and whispered, “Does he have a chance?”

  Ginny gave me a wink. I saw the trap line crew bringing in the morning catch on some old snow sleds that they had repurposed. The take looked good with Jacob and Marcus looking happy.

  “What do you say we go on a hunt the old fashioned way since the crops are in and the deer aren’t onto us yet?” I asked.

  “As long as Randy doesn’t shoot we should be OK sir, he ruins too much meat and I don’t feel like chasing a blood trail through the woods,” said Jacob with a smirk in Randy’s direction.

  I laughed. “You know Jacob, there is no such thing as bad students, just bad teachers.”

  I set up the squad with me on point, Randy middle and Marcus to the rear. Jacob and Allison would hunt to our downwind flank. We ranged well out of our fifteen acres since we had depleted that stock and I wanted it to repopulate. It should not be a problem since we had severely thinned the local predator herd. We headed down toward the grange. I was stalking down a deer trail with my hunter’s ear pointed ahead with Randy spaced ten feet behind me when I heard a rustle. I put my fist in the air and everyone crouched down scanning the forest intently for movement. After a few moments I heard “Patriots!” around fifty feet to my front.

  To my right flank I heard Jacob say, “Suck!”

  “Safe your weapons, we are friendlies,” I heard from my front, as six camouflaged armed men with face paint materialized like wraiths out of the forest to greet us.

  “DAD!” I heard Jacob cry as he launched himself at the lead person.

  Jacob stepped back from his father’s warm embrace and said, “Dad. This is Mr. Robertson, he has been taking care of mom and me. Mr. Robertson, this is my dad, Major Harrison.”

  “Sir,” said Major Harrison shaking my hand. “I can’t thank you enough for looking out for my family.”

  “Please call me anything but Sir, Major. I can tell you that the pleasure has been all mine. You have an amazing family. This is Randy, Marcus and Alisha,” I said making introductions. “We were just out hunting deer when we happened across each other.”

  “This is Sergeant Peterson and his ranger team. They are all from the Gig Harbor area. We are lucky you had my son with you since we were at a bit of a standoff there. You must have heard Gomez over there skinning a deer but fortunately your flank was grouped a little too tight and I saw them and recognized the rifle.”

  Jacob and Alisha managed to blush the same color red at the same time.

  “Please come join us at the homestead for a meal and see the rest of your family,” I said. “I imagine the young ones can carry the deer back.”

  “Please consider it a gift,” said Major Harrison. “Is your place covert?”

  “Yes and we can infiltrate through the woods.”

  The expanded squad followed me through the woods. I had never seen such large men move so silently with their heads and eyes constantly scanning for danger. The field hands had already knocked off for the day so it was only the extended family on the patio enjoying a glass of wine in front of the fire while dinner cooked. Cindy came running across our field and leaped into her husband’s arms, giving him a full body hug. “I knew you would come!”

  Cindy introduced her husband and the squad to our extended family. My wife, Joy and Amy went into the kitchen to expand the dinner meal while Marcus and Randy extended the dining room table for the extra guests.

  “We are self-sufficient Mr. Robertson,” started Major Harrison with his arm around Cindy. “If you can just point us to a good area to set up camp away from prying eyes it would be appreciated.”

  “Nonsense,” I said dismissively. “Nobody can see in here and I’m sure you and the crew could use a hot shower and a good meal. You can stay with Cindy here in the house and I have a fully loaded 5th wheel about two hundred yards from here where your crew can bunk down. It sleeps six comfortably so they don’t have to share bunks.”

  The Sergeant looked over with a cocked eyebrow to Major Harrison who nodded.

  “Well Gunny it seems like God looks out for fools and drunks and since you are doubly qualified it seems to be your lucky day. I promised you a long walk in the woods on half rations and you come out smelling like roses yet again with a hot shower, good chow and a five-star berth.”

  My wife came out onto the patio and said, “I’m not sure how it works in your Army Major but there are two Generals here and you and my husband are not either of them. Four of you can shower in the house and sooner would be better based on the smell and two of you can shower in the RV. Dinner will be in an hour so you’d best get your muddy boots moving. Laundry goes in the basket outside here, no exceptions. Understand? Can I get a copy that please?”

  “Yes ma’am,” the Major said with a smile. “You haven’t been ruining my wife have you?”

  “Major,” my wife said with a stern “I will be obeyed voice”. “We don’t exercise democracy here. This is a benevolent dictatorship and your wife is the other General when I’m not around. If I don’t see six sets of fatigues in this basket in the next thirty minutes and six pairs of shined boots you and your men will be turning big rocks into little rocks in my garden. Clear?”

  “Yes ma’am,” laughed the Major.

  My wife looked the other five crew members each in the eye. “Are we clear gentlemen?”

  They all came to attention and said in unison, “Yes ma’am, General ma’am.”

  The squad broke up with the Sergeant and PFC Gomez following me to the RV while the remaining three squad members took their boots off and followed Joy into the house where they were given towels and shown to one of the three showers in the house. I grabbed the Major a scotch and we sat on the patio having a drink while he started wiping his face paint off onto a bandanna.