by Ron Foster
“The anchor locker is still wet but I think that’s from the dunking it got when we launched the barge and that wave of water come in them portholes that durn fool Paul left open.” Herby called back.
“That boy ain`t got sense enough to come in out of the rain.” Clem grumbled before hollering back down the brass tube.
“Well gather up your damage crew and come top side for awhile and get some fresh air but tell Paul be sure to close them portholes before he comes up, don’t matter that they above the water line, I don’t want to risk it if we start settling down further in the water. Bound to be some leaks in this tub and we ain`t got no pumps yet except that old see-saw affair and I don’t trust the seals in it any more than I do a soup strainer.” Clem hollered back and playfully launched another marble down the tube to aggravate the listener on the end he hoped was leaning their ear close to listen.
Evidently it worked because a barrage of curse words soon came back to the grinning wheel house listeners.
“Okay, what’s next guys?” PD said removing his yachting cap and hanging it on a drawer pull which instantly had Clem`s covetous eyes upon it. Clem loved his genuine sailor’s hat but what he really wanted was that shiny brimmed cap with the anchor on it or someway for him to keep PD from wearing it and teasing him with it. The challenge as to who was actually captain of this vessel was still up in the air but the two had decided a gazillion ways of when to share that title be it in port or on open water. Mostly though they got along and talked between themselves dreamily and constantly about what they were going to do with their “PROJECT”
Lowbuck and Coyote had somehow become their henchmen in all things appropriating goods and materials for their casino barge and David had been awakened one morning by Coyote revving that big Harley motorcycle engine of his and Lowbuck honking the forklifts horn outside his tent with PD hollering for him to wake up and smell the coffee.
As David and Julie woke up bleary eyed and looked out the tent flap to see what all the commotion was about. They were greeted with the sight of an old Civil war cannon pointed directly at them.
‘What the hell? Where did you all get that thing at?” David asked grumpily after he got over his initial shock.
“We got it over to the war memorial park. Hey David you used to be a artilleryman do yon reckon it can still shoot?” PD said like a gleeful child anticipating the fourth of July.
“I was in the artillery but I ain`t that old to know anything about one of those things.” David said gruffily thinking they could have waited for a more reasonable hour to show it off to him.
Evidently Julie felt the same way because she informed PD if it did shoot she knew who it was going to be aimed at.
“Lowbuck go park that damn thing somewhere else and we will get up and get dressed. Put some damn coffee on while you’re at it.” David said and closed the tent flap as Julie started to get up with a groan from having to sleep on the hard packed earth for so many nights.
“I swear some days that trio reminds me of the “Mole boys” back home. I wonder how those young heathens are getting by and if we still have a house to go home too.” David grumbled as he found his shirt and managed to put it on inside out before Julie told him of his mistake.
“What in the hell do you suppose they want with that old cannon?” Julie asked innocently but already putting down the fact to an overabundance and indulgence of male testosterone exuberance.
“Hell I knew they were after that thing but I thought I had them talked out of it. It seems PD and Clem wants to mount that thing on the bow of the barge for looks or actual purpose. I think PD must have been having one of his moments the first time he was talking about it cause he was telling Lowbuck and Coyote how much fun he thought it would be to go a “Viking” up and down the river. Clem said we could tell the Coast Guard if we got pulled over it was a signal cannon but if you see him trying to attach horns to an old an Army helmet to look like a Viking tell me so I can put an end to that shit.” David said laughing but looking half serious.
“ I worry about them boys, seems like ever since they stole those 2 pieces of equipment and that fuel tank everyone started talking about going out scavenging for whatever might not be nailed down at the moment and carrying it back here. What happened to the little sharecropping community Crick was building to ride out this disaster? I mean we were safe here before folks started to want to venture out and do a bit of looting or as you say appropriating things we are short on and now you crazy son of bitches want to go floating up and down the river on a trading barge with a cannon.” Julie said starting to tear up from the stress and fears of the unknowns that were threatening to destroy what little idyllic notions she still held for plantation life.
“Its ok honey, I think they are more joking around to beat the monotony than anything else, but to answer your question it is as simple as toilet paper you might say. All these preppers know that there are dead and dying folks in the cities and surrounding area and they are sick and tired of doing without TP because it is such an integral part of the modern living they are used too. Zombies and wild Indians don’t hold no fear for those men who have wives reminding them of the fact that it shouldn’t take a whole lot to go explore the surrounding area for any empty houses which might contain such a precious article if the deceased tenants no longer had a use for it. Hell I want some, me and you argue over how quick the little we got left is being used up. I really feel sorry for anyone who still has or might get diarrhea. It’s hard as hell to clean up with just handfuls of leaves or whatever spare fabric you got to wash the nastiness out of later. That is why we got to trade eventually and why we got to allow a few organized foraging gangs out on the loose soon. The little bit of stuff Crick and Morgan bring back from going to their homes doesn’t go far, by the way they ain`t going to be sticking around here much longer, they got their own land and homes to protect and get ready for planting season.” David said dropping that bombshell on her.
“What about us David? When are we going home, we got our own business to tend too and others waiting on us.” Julie said putting the weight of the world back on David.
“Soon Julie, real soon baby. I hate setting out back on that road without having more information about what is actually going on out there. You remember what Grimm said about conditions out there and how the radio can’t tell you shit. By the way where were you anyway when the 6 o’clock broadcast came in last night?’ David asked. He and Crick had snuck off to see how Clem’s thump still was coming along and find out what the expected wait period was until it might produce a surprise and possibly a much needed moral boosting libation for the struggling preppers and had missed it himself.
“Oh me and Karen went to visit Bertha on the book some. Neil escaped somewhere and I can’t blame him, bad enough he has to listen to her gossiping but Bertha made Neil be the model for a work dress she needed to hem up last time he visited.” Julie said chuckling at the thought of him standing there while Bertha pinned up a skirt.
Folks just didn’t have enough clothes that they had brought with them to be wearing everyday for mostly dirty chores and without anything but primitive methods for laundry it became a luxury to have an extra set of clean clothes. Bertha and Julie had also already found it necessary to start a sewing circle specifically for sanitary pads for the majority of women needing them early on when everyone had arrived from the island.
Making do with Spanish moss or whatever and the increased need for hygiene in the environment that the ladies found themselves in now went beyond bitchy and included a few health issues that neither the males nor the women were equipped or prepared to address. On the same note of what Bertha called delicate issues she wanted to start a midwifes school because she was sure come spring we could expect for her to have some pregnancies to deal with because for all practical purposes birth control no longer existed.
There were a thousand and one problems already plaguing the surviving preppers but Bertha in her grandmothe
rly fashion anticipated everyone and tried to have a solution at hand before new ones cropped up. Clem did the same as he anticipated planting season and also ordered folks about doing everything from oiling the leather tack for the mule to adding handles on to the makeshift outhouses so they could be moved more easily when it became necessary.
It seems that either the holes in the ground they sat over were not dug deep enough or that they got filled quicker than anyone expected but Clem in his old overseer fashion went around and inspected pretty much every single thing from the size of the community woodpiles to whether or not one of his workers was limping or had the miseries that morning as Bertha was wont to say.
The well pump had been becoming un cooperative from constant use and he had BCtruck was heading up his engineering and maintenance crew to see about it and trying to figure out someway how to deal with the faulty or non-existent plumbing in the sharecropper shacks and the preppers tent camp. BC said a quick fix for now would be to construct a water wagon like the Army used and he set about installing faucets and fittings on an old watering trough until something better could be found.
David could still hear BC bellowing in his barrel chested voice at that scapegoating lazy kid Ferman for dipping his bucket or his hands in the water trough instead of using the faucets as he had advised and had warned everyone to do.
“Dang it boy don’t you have the sense God gave a goat? If you dip that bucket or your hands in that trough you run the risk of giving everybody the runs. We are dang lucky we ain`t got to boil that water everyday because I would have you on wood and stoking detail until hell freezes over.” BC had scolded him.
This youth just didn’t get it and was still living in the past of leading a protected geeky life of being a smartass that new nothing about the woods or life and was still chained to his fantasy internet gamers world.
David didn’t appreciate the boy much either and had memories of a previous encounter with the kid one Prepper Stock when Crick out of the goodness of his heart and sense of community had a trailer load of wood brought to the event at his own expense to serve the participants.
The trailer arrived next to David’s and his campsite and of course David had got off his ass to go help unload it and was in the process of doing the chore when the miscreant wandered by and started chatting and standing around nor helping or pitching in. David had tried cajoling the boy to pitch in and help and Crick and his truck driver helper had continuously kept unloading keeping their mouths shut as David explained to the boy he should do the right thing and help his elders but the boy whined he didn’t have any gloves, his uncle ha already gathered their campsites wood and he wasn’t going to be using any of Crick’s largesse etc. until Lowbuck come along and overhearing the conversation just told the boy to get to work or get up the road gruffily and to no ones surprise the boy half ass began pitching in finally.
The boy now had more old men bosses not taking any of his crap than he knew what to do with now and you could see a visible shudder come over him when Clem called for his favorite “turnip head” to go do something like shoveling fish guts and manure on Bertha’s newly expanded garden.
Bertha was from the old school and thought nothing about threatening the boy with a switch if he was misbehaving or being sassy and when one of his uncles approached her to tell her she didn’t have whupping privilege’s with his nephew, she informed him in no uncertain terms she had no problem giving him the licks the young man deserved instead if he wanted it that way.
She said “Fine I will leave the boy alone and not take him to task but if he won’t listen to me and you are the one causing it by telling him not to worry about me, then I knows whose butt needs birching and you may as well paint a target on your own hiney!” Clem backed her up and threatened his own bit of mayhem upon the man with a coach whip and that was the end of the child being disrespectful without facing threatened consequences.
Hell Rossi even threatened him with the same fate if he tried to shirk his work and put additional labor or aggravation on her if they were tasked to a job together!
Squabbles, arguments and altercations of all sorts occurred and were usually predicated with the statement “you ain`t my boss or in charge of me” as people objected to being pushed towards doing a task or instructed amongst themselves but not so much directed at either Clem or Bertha who seemed to have a lot of practice correcting such outbursts and not much patience with folks failing to adapt.
Bertha was the master of an attitude adjustment as she called it. Yea, Clem would yell at you, try too humiliate you, assign you to some horrible shit detail if you got him riled but Bertha was the one that would make your life a living hell until you apologized to her and mended your ways sincerely.
It started with the silent treatment and progressed through getting an animal’s anus as your portion of the meat in a soup she was serving to outright chasing someone with her pokey stick.
The other problem was the animals on her little farm seem to take up arms with her if she was mad at you and did their best to keeping you on guard and avoiding their displeasure.
They all did their greet Bertha lineup for her coming to feed or tend them but if they recognized whoever she had with her was on some punitive detail they would go out of their way to make tasks as difficult as possible or play tricks.
The cow would knock over your wheelbarrow of manure “accidentally”, The donkey was liable to nibble on your backside if it had a chance, the goat was primed and ready to show you its horns if you bent over. The barn cat shit on Ferman’s coat once when he put it down to clean up the stalls, the big rooster constantly stalked him while the biddies got underfoot or flew in his face out of nowhere. Bertha never had to touch him or threaten him again; being threatened with barn detail by her or others did it all!
Mostly though people had taken on an air of increased self-confidence and hope now that the worst seemed to be over and they began to put a little weight back on and regain their strength.
The camp took on a routine of its own and things seemed to be getting a little easier but no one deceived themselves about how hard the future was going to be.
About 10 folks had decided to bug back home after they had healed up enough to undertake the trip and were never heard from again, David and Crick had given them rides about 30 miles out and set them on the proper highways to begin their journeys but had beseeched and cajoled them along the way to reconsider their plans and stick around awhile.
David had also told Crick taking them that far from the plantation was giving them both a blessing and a curse and wondered how many of them had gotten 5 miles into their trip and realized their foolishness as well as the concept that going back to camp now was a unlikely option unless they wanted to spend at least three days doing so walking.
The Casino barge was moored at the boat landing and many preppers had moved on board. She still looked like a derelict ghost ship but the sounds of hammering on nails, sawing wood and laughter could be heard pretty much all day and into the evening as it was made ready for further habitation and its momentous journey down the great Alabama River.
Time didn’t stand still around the plantation but it seemed frozen in another place, one day began and ended much the same as it had everyday with countless mundane chores that needed to be done before the real work of the fields and forests could began.
The casino boat was a dreamy reminder of past lives and excitement for the future but it also held a dangerous distraction that drew the focus off the land that would nurture and feed them for the near future and beyond.
People could not wait to get on it and sail away from this place of hard work and hard times. No one knew what the future in the ports it visited would hold but there was a consensus of opinion that in someway it had to be better than this hard scrabble life of being a sharecropper.
The gardens would produce their first usable crops of vegetables in 60 days if fate and the weather allowed. Such a short period of tim
e but an eternity to live and work until then and be able to gain a bit more of a dependable and flavorful sustenance. There just wasn’t enough seeds to do more than slightly augment their needs except for all that corn Jimmy Rants and Marley had brought back from their dog food plant foray. That crop already showed signs of not making it and the joy of seeing the first tender shoots of corn breaking through the soil soon gave way to despair as it grew stunted and shriveled from lack of water and fertilizer.
That the great old barge must and could sail was a mixed blessing. Like adventurers of old people talked of the dangers and treasures that might be found on distant shores but the great unknown of discovering these places paled to the deep held beliefs and realizations that they might be better off staying where they were at in their new homes.
One night while sitting around the evenings campfire David had joked with Clem that Captain Cook had got himself eaten by cannibals because his wanderlust had made him stray too far from home and it soon became evident that was the wrong thing to bring up as a guarded silence took over the group and speculations about what the “natives” of the desolate and hopefully somewhat deserted boat landings and wharfs they had planned on visiting would be like by now.
This great unknown factor had been discussed many times and went from the far positive to the blood curdling negatives of some organized force trying to take over and board their ancient vessel.
Of course the biggest worry was that the old relic of a tugboat they were using for propulsion would leave them marooned on some savage shore. Talk turned to finding another one or pulling some engines out of a car or truck and making the barge itself self propelled and BCTruck and Pops Prepper were happily drawing up and redrawing plans to make it either a paddle wheeler or a propeller driven vessel if they could find a ships screw big enough.
While taking all this conversion in folks soon realized that there was probably a lot more water traffic out on the river than they considered. Wasn’t everyone going to be more dependent on fishing than ever before? Wouldn’t the shrimp boats in coastal waters at the headway to the rivers be out fishing until gas couldn’t be scavenged anymore or it could be the government had taken over that industry and any port they went to would be highly guarded and regulated?