Renewal 2 - Echoes of the Breakdown

by Jf Perkins

  “For drainage,” he told us.

  “Clever,” Arturo said.

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  Dad used the square shovel to cut tall steps into one end of the hole, starting at the bottom and working each one in a little farther into the wall. By the time he finished, Kirk and I could walk right out of the hole. We were thankful because we had no idea how we were going to get out. Then, Dad had us over the crest of the slope, throwing dead leaves on the dirt we had dumped there.

  “The idea is to be hard to spot. All this fresh dirt can be seen from a distance.”

  Arturo went back to camp while Dad gave us our jobs for the day. We were to drag our cut saplings over to the hole, cut the limbs off, and lay them across the top of the hole. If we didn’t have enough, we would have to cut more. Then, we would put the leafy branches back on top of the trees. When we had everything tightly covered, we were to cover everything with more dead leaves. Hard to spot, we were reminded.

  “Leave the steps uncovered for now,” Dad said. “We’ll find something to use as a door later. If you get all that done before we get back, start moving the food over here. I’ll arrange it in the hole later.”

  “Ok, Dad,” Kirk said.

  Arturo had a small pack ready when we got back to camp, along with the hunting rifle and the shotgun. Dad had already made a habit of carrying his handgun with him, while Arturo had picked the best of the bandits’ pistols for himself. We were amassing quite a collection of weapons, but hadn’t had time to work through all of them. I was hoping that one had my name on it, but I wasn’t too convinced that would happen any time soon.

  Dad gave Mom a kiss, and he and Arturo hiked out to the west, which was the back of our camp, as we figured it. Mom watched them go until they were lost to sight in the woods. After a few more seconds, she walked over to Francine, sat down next to the old woman, and started talking to her, trying to get any kind of response. I picked up the ax. Kirk grabbed one from the new pile of tools, and we got to work.

  Chapter 2 – 7

  I was proud of our little show of woodcraft, when it was done. We had covered the entire pit with strong saplings and woven them with branches into a tight roof. When we had it covered in leaves, Kirk and I were convinced that no one would even know it was there. We even put together a woven panel for a door over the steps, after Kirk had the clever idea of using vines to tie it together. Extra credit, we called it.

  We guessed it was around four in the afternoon when we got back to camp, and we were starving. Mom had made a bunch of peanut butter crackers for us, and kept them in the cooler until we got back. While we munched and sipped water, we noticed that she kept looking to the west, obviously beginning to get worried about Dad and Arturo. We were surprised when they came back from the north, looking tired, but no worse for the hike. Dad was carrying a red metal gas can in one hand, and the rifle with the other.

  Mom gave Dad a hug, and squeezed him hard enough to get a grunt in return as he clumsily set the gas can down. Arturo was carrying the pack, but it was clearly heavy now, the thin straps cutting into his shoulders.

  “We met the real landowners,” Dad said.

  “You did?” Mom asked, with an open mouth of surprise.

  “Yeah. George and Martha Carroll. Nice old couple. Their family has been around this area for generations. We told them our story, and asked if it was ok if we stay here. Mr. Carroll said it was fine, on one condition.”

  “What condition?”

  “We’re supposed to blow these horns if any trouble comes our way, so they’ll know to get ready. And, if they blow their horns, we’re supposed to come running to help out.” Dad turned Arturo around and pulled a little canister air horn out of the pack.

  “Well, that seems nice of them,” Mom said.

  “There’s more. They also gave us a big bag of nails and a bunch of ammunition that George thought would work when we told him about what weapons we had. He also gave us a rundown on where to hunt for deer, and other animals.”

  “Wow. You must have really been charming.”

  “Aren’t I always?” Dad asked with a wry grin.

  Mom rolled her eyes and ignored the question. “Where are they? How far is it?”

  “About a quarter mile that way,” Dad replied, pointing northwest. “But it’s closer to a half mile when you take the easy way. No fences to cross.”

  “Did they know anything about what’s going on?”

  “Not much, but they do have a great nephew who’s a deputy. He told them things were bad, and to stay at home, no matter what. For them, it seemed like the normal thing to do anyway, so they aren’t really convinced that things are bad. If the power weren’t out, they might not even know,” Dad answered.

  Arturo chimed in, “They know about the nukes that went off in DC. They don’t know why the power is out, even though their nephew, Rodney Barker, explained the EMP to them. They do know he was very upset when he came by to check on them, and they know that the whole sheriff’s department is running on commandeered old diesels, since they survived the EMP pretty well. Rodney was driving a ’78 Chevy truck when he stopped by. He told them one piece of news, that Nashville is a mess, but not nearly as bad as bigger cities, like Atlanta. His command pipeline said that nationwide martial law is being discussed. He said he would look in on them as often as possible.”

  Dad added, “George reminded us not to shoot any deputies that show up, just in case Rodney comes out to see who’s on the back forty. He said that we should shoot anyone else, but he was half joking. He was seriously “old school” about his property. Oh, and Martha said she could probably spare some of her canned food if we needed it. Nice people.”

  “Yeah,” Mom said. “Very nice. And you liked them?”

  “I think we got incredibly lucky again,” Dad replied.

  “Me too,” Art said, nodding his head.

  “Well, I guess that makes me feel better. At least we are allowed to be here... I do feel better,” Mom concluded.

  Kirk and I were practically bursting to show Dad our work, and he agreed to come and see it. When he did, he was full of praise. “That is excellent work, boys. Just great. I couldn’t have done it better if I tried.” We were beside ourselves with pride, and practically skipped back to the camp circle.

  Arturo and Dad had apparently worked out the details on their hike, and immediately started loading the car for Arturo’s trip south. They put in some food, water, one of the assault rifles and ammunition for it. Arturo kept the handgun he had chosen and set it on the passenger seat with a matching box of ammo. He wedged the big combat knife into the gap between the dash and the under-hanging CB radio. Dad gave him a quick tour and set the red gas can in the very back. It was empty, but Arturo would fill it at the first opportunity for an emergency backup. Dad pulled the siphon pump out of the spare tire storage and set it next to the can. He didn’t want Arturo to waste time looking for it and getting it out. Arturo had the maps out where he could reach them on the fly, and a couple of bottles of water at hand.

  “Ok, David. It’s time to hit it. Remember everything I told you, and you should be fine.” Art said, holding out his hand for a shake.

  Dad leaned in and gave Arturo a hug. “Good luck my friend. We’ll take care of your boy, and we’ll stay here as long as it takes for you to get back, or as long as it’s safe anyway. In any case, we’ll be close by. If you can’t find us, honk the horn and we’ll find you, ok?”

  “Sounds good,” Arturo said. He put on his best terrible Terminator voice. “I’ll be back.” He squatted down and gave Jimmy a long hug, and whispered, “I love you, boy. I will be back.”

  Arturo stood up and slid into the driver’s seat, as Mom held Jimmy back from the car. Arturo took a minute to adjust seat and mirrors, then turned the key. The big engine rumbled to life, and idled roughly with its mismatched parts. The car clunked into reverse, and backed slowly out of the woods. Arturo never took his eyes off of his so
n, until he reached the grass, waved once, and pulled away to the north, aiming for the gravel entrance to the road. We heard the car idle, smoother now that it was warming up, as Arturo worked the gate, and the faint metallic rattle the gate closing behind him. The car accelerated away to join the road heading south, and we were all feeling strangely empty. We were hoping, maybe praying, that we would see him again.

  Chapter 2 – 8

  “Hello, the watch!”

  Terry felt a sharp disconnect when the new voice intruded on Bill’s tale. Bill seemed to be expecting it.

  “Hello, below!” Bill called.

  “Is that you, Bill?”

  “Yep. Bill plus one. Come on up.”

  The twin ropes of the ladder rattled against the platform as the newcomer climbed up and vaulted over the edge in athletic fashion. He was a young man, in his twenties, long limbed and rangy, with dark hair and tanned skin. He was dressed in the typical work pants and work shirt.

  Bill made the introductions. “Terry, meet Neil. Neil, this is Terry Shelton.”

  “Ah. Hey there, Mr. Shelton. You’re the talk today. Good to meet you,” Neil said, looking Terry in the eye as he extended his hand for a handshake.

  Terry clasped the offered hand. “Pleased to meet you, Neil.”

  “What do you think so far?” Neil asked.

  “It’s all so incredible. I’m still trying to think what to think, you know?” Terry replied, looking around to show the scale of his incredulity.

  “Yeah, I know. I was new here not so long ago. It’s a long way from the trout farm. We ate fish every damn day.”

  Bill explained. “We did a lot of trading with Neil’s family, until Tullahoma decided to take the Nut Cave Trout Farm by force. His parents sent Neil and his little sister into the woods to hide, and we picked them up later on our normal run to buy some fish. We brought them back here.”

  “Those bastards had my parents working as slaves, since no one else knew how to work the fish farm. Kirk and his crew rescued them after a couple of months. They live here now, too. The Tullahoma crew killed my uncle, and two cousins,” Neil said, looking away.

  “Well, thanks to a little help from our friends in Bedford County, they got what they had coming.” Bill said.

  “Amen to that.”

  Bill handed the rifle to Neil, and said, “The watch is yours, Neil.”

  “The watch is mine, Bill.”

  Bill stepped over to the edge, and executed a daring exit from the platform. Terry couldn’t see how he did it, but the ropes thrashed wildly until he heard Bill’s boots hit the ground.

  “Neil, it was good to meet you. I’m sorry about your family,” Terry said, as he considered how he would get down the ladder.

  “Likewise Terry. I’m sure I’ll see you later. Hey, two helpful tips for you. One, just step off the edge and let your feet snag on the way down. Let your hands guide you on the ropes, but don’t try to hold on. Two, watch your back. Sally has been talking smack about you all afternoon.” Neil grinned and winked at Terry. “Enjoy your brief life as an eligible bachelor.”

  “Uh... Great, I guess,” Terry replied, clearly uncomfortable. “See you later.”

  Terry looked over the edge, and thought Neil’s advice was suicidal, but he figured it was another test he couldn’t afford to fail. He stepped off, turning 180 degrees as he did. His right foot snagged on the fourth rung of the ladder; his hands hooked loosely around the ropes. He alternated feet every few steps, snapping the rope ladder around wildly, until almost before he knew it, he hit the ground hard and fell on his butt.

  Bill laughed and said, “Not bad, wild man. Takes practice is all.”

  Terry laughed too, surprised he didn’t break an ankle. He got up and dusted himself off, rubbed his friction-heated palms together, and the men headed back to the little town.

  As they emerged from the shade of the trees, Bill said, “I’m about talked out. Haven’t said this much since... well, yesterday.” He laughed. “It’s about 4:30 now. We’re going to have a little gathering tonight around 5:30 or six. Until then, feel free to do whatever you want. Wander around, talk to folks, it’s up to you. We’ll gather in the town center, ok?”

  “Ok, Bill. I can go anywhere I want?”

  “Sure, just don’t wander into anyone’s bedroom. That might be a big surprise.”

  Terry chuckled and said, “I’ll try not to do that. I’d be the most surprised one there.”

  “Depends on the bedroom, I guess. I’ll see you in a hour or so.”

  They crossed the gravel perimeter lane and Bill turned right, heading towards the creek. Terry walked straight into town, feeling conspicuous and not quite at home. He realized this was the first time he had been left alone. He stepped into the little open area in the middle of Teeny Town. It wasn’t quite a town square, but he could tell that was the idea. The gravel was tightly packed and free of dust and debris. All four of the corner buildings had deep porches and at least a bench or two for sitting and talking, except for the church, which had a simple facade. Four broad wooden steps led up to a small porch painted battleship gray. Two large flower pots full of pansies adorned the entrance and framed the white double doors. The side held a row of simple double hung windows, no stained glass to be seen. The church’s only other mark of pride was that, in a town full of rustic brown buildings, the whole church was painted white, from the stone lower walls up to the galvanized metal roof.

  On the opposite corner, the northwest, there was a more typical building. In fact, it was the mirror image of the tavern he had visited, which was on the northeast corner. Its porch was lined with benches, where the tavern had small round tables out front. There were no signs on any of the places, so Terry could only guess at what was inside, but the last building on the square had a vaguely official look about it that he couldn’t quite identify, but if he were to guess, he would have called it the town hall.

  As he surveyed the square, a stout older lady with rosy cheeks and curly silver hair burst out of the double doors across from the tavern. She saw Terry standing there and waved vigorously in his direction.

  “Hi!” The word was drawn out into about four syllables. “You must be Terry!” she said, trundling over to where he stood.

  “Hello, ma’am,” Terry replied, shaking her hand with a little bow of his head. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Terry Shelton. I’m pleased to meet you.”

  “I’m Eleanor Tate. Call me Ellie, please. I’ve heard so much about you,” she said, practically gushing over him.

  “You have?”

  “Oh, sure. It’s a very small town.” Ellie laughed at her own joke.

  Teeny Town. Got it. “Well, I hope it wasn’t all bad,” Terry said, joining in the fun.

  Ellie threw her head back and cackled, a full belly laugh that had her entire body shaking. Terry caught a whiff of her breath and realized that she had either gotten an early start on the celebration, or she just liked to drink. From the visible blood vessels in her cheeks, he would have guessed the latter.

  “Well, Terry. It was a pleasure to meet you. I have to finish up my work before the gathering starts.”

  “Uh, Ellie, if you don’t mind me asking, what is it that you do?”

  “Oh, not at all. I’m in charge of the records, over at town hall.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “It’s boring, but somebody has to do it, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Well, I’ll see you in a little while. Go in and say hi to Aggie. She’s been saying nice things about you.” Ellie looked him up and down with a look that was approaching a leer. “I can see why.” She winked at him and pinched his cheek like a long lost aunt. She paused for one more look and scuttled over to the building he had guessed was the town hall.

  Terry’s next guess was that the store must be the place Ellie had just left. He walked over, stepped up on the porch, and tentatively opened one of the broad French doors. Sure enough, Aggie was standing behind a polis
hed wooden counter ten feet in from the front doors. The counter held a mechanical cash register that could have been easily 150 years old, and a row of large jars holding a variety of foods and other tidbits.

  “Hello, Terry. Did Bill talk your ears off?” Aggie said, smiling at him.

  Terry stepped inside and let the door close behind him. “Yes, ma’am. He did, but it was interesting, so I didn’t mind at all,” he replied, smiling in return. “I also met Sally. I think Bill said she’s your second daughter.”

  “So I’ve heard, but I really don’t know where she came from. Maybe the stork brought her.”

  Terry responded with a confused expression. “Uh...”

  “Never mind. Old story... Anyway, I heard that you have met. She was in here earlier telling me all of your flaws.”

  “I’m not surprised. She told me a handful too.”

  “What about her? Did you see any flaws to tell? Here’s your chance to get even.”

  “Except for her being mean as a rattlesnake, no. She seemed fine to me.”

  “Seems like you figured her out. I don’t know where she gets it. We think she spent too much time training with her Uncle Kirk... or eating gunpowder; we’re not sure.” Aggie’s smile grew into a slightly evil grin, which infected Terry as well, until he realized it and felt sort of stupid for sharing this private moment with Sally’s mother.

  “Terry, why don’t you wait out on the porch while I close the store? Then we can watch the setup for our gathering. Won’t be long now.”

  “Ok, Mrs...” Terry said. “I just realized I never caught your last name.”

  “We didn’t mention it. We were waiting to see what you decided. Until then, we thought it better to keep it a little mysterious. Anyway, it’s Carter. See you in few minutes.”

  Terry turned and stepped out the front door, waving as he went. He was mildly shocked to see that the square had already changed. A group of people were setting up long picnic tables in rows across the open space, and younger kids were carrying a bunch of folding chairs, setting them in place on each side of the few tables without built in benches. Those were placed in a row along the tavern and church side of the square.