by M. J. Konkel
But this night was a party night – a night for R&R. Johnny and Anne didn't have anything of their own to move to Ridgeback so they helped others. Johnny had followed as Anne went to ask a teacher that she respected, Mr. Spechright, if she should go back and get stuff from her house. Joe said that he didn't think that was a good idea. Instead, he proposed that they help others move stuff and they could send an armed team of people back later to get the stuff from her house. They helped Anne's aunt initially, but her apartment was small. They finished moving her aunt’s belongings before the end of the first day. Then they helped wherever they could. By Thursday evening, quite a few people knew who Johnny was. After grabbing a plate of food and listening to “The Speech” and then Mr. Spechright, he headed for a nearby campfire. His intent was to get to know everyone, so he planned on making rounds and talking to a lot of people he had not yet met.
“Hey! I think we have the new guy here with us.” a balding older man sporting a thick gray beard announced.
Johnny introduced himself and told a rather abbreviated version of how he ended up with them.
A stocky middle-aged woman sitting a lawn chair exclaimed “You're that young man who came in the Loinka girl.”
“Yes, that's me.”
The lady continued. “You men!” She looked at the other guys around the fire. “You think you are hunters. This young man, from what I hear, killed one of those ginormous T. rex dinosaurs all by his lone self.”
“How did you hear about that? I haven't told anyone about that.”
“That Loinka girl has been telling everyone,” she answered.
Everyone around the campfire was interested in the story, so he told them what happened.
“You rammed it with that tractor's front loader. Wow! That is awesome, dude. Here, you earned a piece of this,” one of the guys said, slapping a thick piece of barbecued meat onto his plate.
“And this.” Someone else handed him a warm beer.
“What is it?” he asked, pointing a fork at the meat.
“It's dinosaur steak. It was a small one about the size of a really big turkey. He was standing beside the road this afternoon, looking at me real stupid-like, so BAM - I popped him. Popped him good. Try it; tastes like chicken.
“Thanks,” said Johnny.
“You know, I wonder what a rex tastes like,” said the man.
“The rexes are probably wondering what you taste like,” the heavy-set women next to the man said.
“Oh, Jake is safe. One bite out of him and they would spit him right out. He's too old and tough,” the old bearded man teased. Everyone around the fire broke into laughter.
“Who are you to be calling me old, you old fart?” Jake retorted. More laughter.
Johnny took a small bite. It tasted rather good covered in barbecue sauce, but closer to duck than chicken. But it really was not quite like duck either.
After a bit, he again thanked them for the beer and the food and went on to another campfire. The campfires seemed amazingly bright and hot to him. No one had yet informed him about the higher oxygen levels and he hadn't noticed his own shallower breathing.
Around the next fire, two men and a woman, all looking somewhere in their thirties, were playing guitars and singing. There were a bunch of kids of various ages roasting marshmallows and putting them, along with chocolate, between pairs of graham crackers to make s’mores. The guitar players were alternating between children's songs and adult songs, mostly old ballads. He listened for a while and complimented them on their musical abilities before moving on.
He visited several campfires after that and introduced himself at each. Kids were playing tag or hide and seek in the dim light. He wondered where they got all their energy from after such a long three days. The adults mostly just drank beer, wine or other alcoholic drinks and traded stories and gossip. Around one of the fires, people were drinking non-alcoholic juices. But it seemed everyone had heard about his adventures and how he killed the dinosaur. He had become an instant legend in the community.
He came upon a campfire that had a high stakes poker game going on. The participants were using the light of their fire and a neighboring campfire to see their cards. They were drinking, and each was trying to win all the cash the others had. They were having a great time and no longer caring at all about their money. They asked him if he wanted in. He politely declined.
There was loud music coming from the next campfire. The trunk of a car was open, and the music was coming from there, heavy rock, mostly new stuff by bands like Garage Fire and First-Class Tramps, with a deep reverberating base. He also caught an older tune by Sevendust. He had heard it earlier from a couple campfires away when it was much louder. Somebody must have complained and requested that they turn it down. Most of those around that fire were in their late teens or early twenties. He saw a few kids near a tree smoking a joint, not exactly hiding it. He wondered if they had already thought about saving the seeds and planting them. If they hadn't someone else on the island would.
One of the guys called and gestured for him to come over. “You're Johnny. Aren't you?”
“Yeah, that's me.”
“I heard about what you did. That was so cool, man. Oh, my name is Lonnie Roker. These are my friends, Darrel, Tim; the pretty one is Tammy. And you know Amos already.”
Johnny said hi to everyone.
Tammy stretched her hand out holding a joint. “Care for a draft, big boy?”
“Yeah, thanks for killing one of those stupid son of a bitchin’ monsters,” Lonnie added.
“Thanks, but I don't do that anymore.” Johnny said, waving his hand at the joint.
“Suit yourself. Means more for us.” Tammy pulled back the offered joint and took another deep drag on it.
“Hand that to Turtle. He hasn't had a toke lately.” Lonnie said. Tammy passed the joint over to Tim.
“Turtle?” Johnny asked.
“He moves about as fast as a turtle so that is his nickname. We all have nicknames, except for Tammy. Darrel's Bugger,” Lonnie said.
“And we call Lonnie Flats. Sort of like Fats Domino but Flats 'cause he's always flat on his back.” Darrel said.
“What about Amos?” Johnny asked.
“Toots.” Lonnie answered. Johnny wondered about that, but he didn't ask.
He turned and glanced at those around the fire dancing to the music when he spotted Anne among them. She was with a pudgy young man that was probably about his age. He felt a flash of anger. The man was too old for her. But why should he care? He had Tiffany, after all, and he was going to find a way to get back to her. It was just a matter of time. Still, it bothered him to see Anne with that man. Why was it bother him? Maybe it was that Anne deserved better than that guy, although he really didn't know anything about him. He shouldn’t be so fast to judge the guy. Anne caught his eye and they stared for a second, Anne still dancing and then he turned and left.
He wandered along the dark road beyond the loop until he found he was all the way down at the dock area near the southern tip of the island. He discovered that there was a tiny harbor and on the shore, there was a bonfire. He was surprised to find that, in addition to eight houseboats, there were twelve boathouses moored to the shore down there. These were tiny houses, floating on old barrels, which had been towed over from the area around Brown's Station. Mostly young men lived in them, but also two young women and an old long-haired bearded guy that looked like a hippy still stuck in an era from long ago. He found out that this small community of houseboat dwellers had their houseboats in a little harbor at the southern edge of Brown's Station. One of the houseboats had a photovoltaic solar panel and some batteries. Music was blaring from speakers on the front deck – Pink Floyd. He shared their beer and by the time that he left, he was feeling heavily intoxicated. He staggered the long way back, managed to find his camper and fell instantly asleep.
*****
Anne saw Johnny leaving from the campfire. She had hoped that he would stay un
til the song was over and she could make an excuse to the boy she was dancing with. She was feeling that she really needed someone to talk to that evening and he was the only person that she thought she could confide in. But he left before she had a chance. She thought Lonnie and his gang had probably weirded him out. At least, she hoped that's what it was. They certainly weirded her out and she knew them. She was not going to go chasing after him since she had no idea which way he went, but she wanted to be out of there anyway. After the dance she made an excuse, telling the boy she wasn't feeling so well, which was sort of the truth. Then she went back to her camper.
It was a small camper with room only for sleeping. It gave some privacy from the rest of the community, but there was no privacy from her aunt. She was relieved that her aunt was not there when she arrived. Although she liked her aunt, she didn't feel comfortable in confiding her worries. She hopped onto her bunk and stared out the tiny window at a campfire that was visible from her vantage point. She really didn't see the fire, though, as her thoughts were on her parents. They had always been there for her. Her dad had carried her to the hospital when she broke her foot in the eighth grade playing basketball. Her mom had consoled her when her first true boyfriend broke up with her when she was fifteen. But, at the moment, there was no one to console her when she desperately wanted someone. At first, the whole situation had seemed like an adventure and they just needed to figure out how to get away from the dangers. Then the urgency of the move had filled everyone's time and energy, so that she hadn't had time to dwell upon her situation. But in her camper her mind was wandering, and she couldn't see how they were going to get back to their world. She would never see her parents again. A few tears came to her eyes as she quietly wept. She hoped her aunt would be staying out late.
Chapter 20
There was no fourth day of moving. By Friday, the water was too deep along low-lying sections of the road to drive across, and the river had begun to flood downtown Brown's Station.
Jay and Mary Dagheart, a farm couple, had managed to get two dairy cows and a bull aboard a truck and onto the island, as well as a dozen chickens and a rooster, on the previous day. Two other families brought a total of seven horses and seven pigs. The animals needed to be fenced off and housed somewhere though to keep them away from the planned gardens. There was also a need to build more buildings to store their stuff and to provide larger living spaces; they would need building materials. Several crews used the three pontoon boats they had on Ridgeback to go back to Brown's Station and gather materials such as lumber, cement and fencing materials.
Friday was a day people moved slowly or at least not with the urgency that had been driving them the previous several days. Everyone was exhausted and needed a rest. Most people spent the day organizing the boxes of stuff they brought to the island, chatting with friends and neighbors and exploring the island.
The council took a survey of the food situation in the morning. They had taken all the food that was available from the supermarket, from the convenience store, school and the retirement home down on Lincoln. They also had all the food that was in people's freezers that had not been eaten in the previous week. People couldn't hide that food, but it was no secret people were hoarding non-perishable food in case the community stores went empty. The council figured they had enough non-perishable or frozen food in the community stores to hold them for a month and a half to two months, even if they didn’t augment their stores with other available food or ration it. There was plenty of meat roaming around in the woods and prairies; the challenge was to get it without becoming the meat. Fish were plentiful also and would be available throughout most of the year. Vegetables and fruits ending up in short supply was the biggest concern. Karen advised that everyone should save their vitamins for times when fresh vegetables and fruits were not available. Many people made plans to build greenhouses to get an early start on the season with planting and growing, and they could use these to continue to grow crops into the fall and winter. They could also use the greenhouses to grow some warmer weather crops such as oranges, although growing the trees would take years. Getting enough food for everyone to eat was not going to be a problem as long as they planned carefully.
*****
After a nice lunch of ham sandwiches, lettuce salad and cut fruit, Karen went to see if there was any change in Alfred's condition. She checked first with the nurse, June Ramsey, who was watching over Alfred.
“I think there has been improvement. His eyes are different. You know how his eyes always looked glazed over? Well, they don't look like that anymore. They almost look like he's seeing with them now, but just not looking around. Anyway, he is fed, and I have given him three cups of water.”
Karen quickly examined him and agreed that he seemed to be making progress, so she told June to call her if his condition changed at all while she made rounds checking on her other patients.
An hour later, Karen was examining an older lady named Jacky. Jacky was ninety years old and couldn’t move anywhere anymore without her wheelchair. She was complaining of pains in her shoulder, so Karen gave her some ibuprofen to help with the pain.
“I am sorry about the living conditions here. The beds here are probably not as soft as what you were used to down on Lincoln Avenue and that is probably contributing to the aches.”
“No need to apologize, honey. I'd much rather be here than Lincoln.”
“I am surprised to hear that. What didn't you like at Lincoln?”
“Over there, I would get a visitor once in a blue moon. I have no children now. My only child died in a car accident many years ago, and then my husband passed away too. I have outlived my brothers and sisters. When I was at Lincoln, honey, I was just waiting to die. Here, I get to see people and people visit and pay attention to me. Here, I feel alive once again. I hear things happening all around me, and it is all quite exciting. I would rather live here a month than be back there another ten years. I am calling this my final adventure.”
“Other than that shoulder, you are doing quite well. I am betting you will be with us much longer than a month. I am curious. Do the others from Lincoln Avenue feel the same as you?”
“I don't know. I haven't asked, but others that were there, even those with children were not much better off than me. In some ways, I think it was worse for them. They would get their hopes up only to be disappointed. Their kids would come in once a week, if they were lucky, to see them for fifteen or twenty minutes. And then there was nothing left for them to do but wait for a week or two for the next fifteen-minute visit, all the while wondering if they were going to live long enough for that visit. That is not living, honey.”
“Still, living conditions here are not what you were used to before we moved you.”
“I hear people whining about this or that – no electricity to run their dishwasher, no newspaper; they have to walk to get their water. But did you know I grew up during the great depression?”
“I didn't think about it, but I guess you would have.”
“My family was poor, spelled with a capital P. We did not have running water in the house when I was still just a child. We had to go outside to pump it out of a well, even in the dead of winter. My dad was always struggling to earn what little money he could. The thing he was most proud of was that his family always had food on the table come dinnertime. Times were harder back then than here.”
June came rushing up. “Karen, you have to come see him.”
“What's wrong, June?”
“Nothing is wrong. He's talking.”
Jacky grabbed Karen’s sleeve before she could get up. “Honey, remember with living it is not how many breaths you take before you die, but rather how many times living takes your breath away.”
Karen smiled and said good-bye to Jacky and then rushed to see Alfred. When she got there, he was sitting up.
“How are you feeling?” Karen inquired, not knowing if his speech would be coherent.
“Everything is
rather foggy actually. You're my doctor here?”
“Yes, I am the only doctor here. We could use a larger medical staff here, but that is another story. Can you tell me your name?”
“Alfred Rundcutt.”
“I am going to do a few simple tests, Mr. Rundcutt.”
“I prefer Professor Rundcutt,” he corrected her.
“OK, Professor Rundcutt. Can you feel this?” She lightly touched each of his fingertips and then toes with a toothpick. He said he could feel all of them. She continued to run simple tests, wishing she had access to “modern” facilities where she could run CT scans, MRI's and other diagnostic tests.
“Was I in a coma?”
“You have been unresponsive for a little over seven days. It was not like any comatose case that I have seen or heard of, but it is not my area of expertise. Tell me, do have any numbness anywhere, any tingling?”
“No. I don't suppose there is a specialist here?” he asked looking around the camper he was in. “What kind of hospital is this anyway?”
“Sorry, but I'm it. In fact, I’m probably the only doctor on this planet. That probably sounds a little arrogant, but it’s the truth. There is no hospital here. A lot has happened since you left us.” That was an understatement. “To sum it up: We have been transported somehow to some alternate universe. There are no other people on this world besides those in our little town, at least as far as we know. And there are dinosaurs roaming almost everywhere.”
“Dinosaurs? Alternate universe? Is this some type of a joke? I don't think it is amusing at all, especially for someone in my condition.”