I didn't mind fishing. I had grown up doing it so I wasn't really squeamish about the night crawlers or handling the fish. Actually, compared to the other things dad had us do, this was by far the more appealing activity. I'd rather fillet a fish than gut a deer any day!
Our breakfast discussion was born out of a news piece that addressed the increase in solar flares that scientists were expecting to happen. Our father told us about a solar event that happened back in 1859. He said it was more commonly called, “The Carrington Event.” He told us that the coronal mass ejection caused the biggest geomagnetic storm in Earth's recorded history. It knocked out some telegraphs all over the country and even in Europe.
Dad continued to tell us how some of the telegraph operators had gotten shocked from the electrical disruption. He explained that some telegraphs even function after being disconnected from their power supplies because of the inert energy caused by the solar flare! Of course, this lead to other stories about solar flares and disruptions to modern living.
We talked about the 1989 solar plasma ejection that affected Quebec and even exploded a pipeline in Siberia. The effects of these solar storms were devastating in the past, but now, they'd be catastrophic! The dependency of the world on technology was so intense that the loss of any amount of power was both dramatic and disabling. It could shut an entire country down!
As my sisters engaged our mom in a conversation about a solar event that occurred in South Africa in 2003, knocking out electrical power sources, my father began conversing with me about the medicinal values of our meal contents. I knew to expect this conversation, as my dad often talked to me about the medical uses of plants. I enjoyed our discussions and though I frequently realized that I knew more than I thought I did, they also fired my interest to research more. I guessed that was part of his reason for sharing this information with me; to impassion me. It worked.
“What are the leafy additions to our scramble eggs today,” he asked.
“They're called harbinger-of-spring and watercress,” I answered. “Of course, harbinger-of-spring is a part of the carrot family while watercress is a part of the mustard family.”
“Correct. What else?” My father wondered.
“Unlike watercress which is available for harvest year round and was native to Europe and Asia, harbinger-of-spring is only available during the early spring and is native to North America.”
“Yeah and where can you find it growing?” he pressed me for more information.
“Well, harbinger-of-spring is found growing in wooded areas, thriving in alluvium soil, while watercress, like its name implies, is semi-aquatic and thrives best near alkaline water. Both are perennial.”
“Okay, what else can you tell me?”
“While watercress has a peppery taste, harbinger-of-spring is nuttier. Mom likes to use the watercress in place of pepper and she thinks the harbinger-of-spring adds more flavor. She also knows that they're very nutritional,” I stated.
“Continue,” my dad prompted me.
I sigh like I'm annoyed with this game, but in truth, I like that my dad talks to me about botany. It was especially nice because no one else cared to. Even though my mother and Carolina enjoyed gardening and cooking, they didn't prefer to get into deep conversations about plants and their potential benefits. I was thankful that my dad did.
“Well, watercress has been used through history to help detox blood, as a decongestant, and as a diuretic. It's high in vitamins, potassium, and calcium…”
“Uh-huh,” my dad muttered, resting his head on his hand as though my explanation was enthralling.
“Harbinger-of-spring has been used by the Native Americans – specifically the Cherokee - to help with toothaches.”
“Very good,” my father praised me. Though I wanted to maintain the image of disinterest, I smiled. I couldn't help it. I loved when my dad was pleased with something I did.
Sitting back in his chair and reaching for his newspaper, he added, “Perhaps you can research what part of the harbinger-of-spring was chewed. I hear there's uncertainty about that.”
“Yeah, that is something I'd be interested in learning more about,” I replied as I got up to clear our dishes from the table. “It would be good to know more about the plant and what benefits it offers.”
“Hmmm,” my father voiced, acting like he got bored of our conversation, though I could visibly see his amusement. His unsuppressed smile caught my eye as I turned away, causing me to smile in return.
I really loved my dad. I often thought he was a bit eccentric when it came to all his survival crap, but I wouldn't want him any other way. My dad was sometimes a hard ass, occasionally hurting my feelings or bruising my sensitivities, but he always meant well. He never acted or spoke with ill intent. That made it easier to over-look his quirks, the same quirks that seemed to manifest within my sister, Georgia's personality as well.
Both of my parents were involved in my life, showing me great love and respect in all things. They were leaders and they lead by example, so that meant they'd never ask me to do something they wouldn't do themselves. That truth made it hard to object to their requests.
Dad was a true believer that you were only as strong as your weakest member. Since our family was a unit of sorts, dad didn't want any of us to be weak. Sometimes that meant that dad would push us when we struggled to leave our comfort zones or resisted to perform. That's when his military mind took over and he'd accept no excuses. I never really blamed him, as I knew he was only pushing me so I could be better.
Dad felt that education, encouragement, prayer, and a healthy lifestyle were the keys to success. He said that finding your balance in life was how you found true happiness. My mom supported him whole-heartedly. Their passion for learning and growing was extremely contagious; their passion was sparked within me and my sisters without a doubt.
Chapter Five
My sisters and I stood along the side of our dad overlooking a dry, brown field. It was in desperate need of water, but the rains had not come yet to quench its thirst. The desolation of the land made me feel sad, though it still had a beauty about it.
“Look at this prairie,” our father instructed. As he watched us gaze across the dry field, he said, “The earth is in need. There's a delicate balance to life and if you ignore the signs around you, then everybody will suffer the way this field suffers.”
Carolina and I looked at each other. She rolled her eyes at me and I stifled a laugh. Our dad could be so dramatic at times. Of course, Georgia was listening to our father intensely; suck up.
“People are like this field; they are also in need.”
“What are they in need of,” Carolina asked. Annoyed, I grimaced at her; she was purposely trying to bother me by encouraging our dad to continue with his latest lecture.
“Good question,” Georgia nodded in approval as our dad smiled happily.
Our dad continued, saying, “People are in need of nurturing. They need love and security, but right now, too many are afraid. They're withering in their fear the way this field withers under the sun. Some people will last until the rains, but most are just waiting for a small spark.”
“What happens if there's a spark,” Carolina asked, feigning concern and ignorance, elbowing me behind our dad's back.
I gave my sister the stink eye. Ugh; why was she tormenting me? We all knew that dad didn't need any incentives to go on a rampage about survival and life lessons. I think he thought he was some sort of shaman or something; crazy old man. Why was she trying to torture me?
“If even the smallest of sparks makes contact with the dry, parched grass then it'll all go up in flames.”
“But wouldn't that be good for the earth,” Carolina pushed, trying to hide her mirth. “Wouldn't the fire turn this withered land into a fertile field?”
I raised my hands in exasperation. Seriously? Carolina was smiling broadly now, content by my utter annoyance. No one seemed to realize that Carolina was mocking the si
tuation and teasing me. Our older sister, Georgia was patting Carolina on the back for taking such an active involvement in the discussion. I was sure she thought Carolina's smile was because she was being praised.
When Georgia looked over at me, I tried to force a smile. The best I got was an awkward smirk which made Georgia scowl at me. She tapped her ear a few times and then pointed at our dad as if to say, “listen up; pay attention.” I just nodded to her in resignation.
When Georgia looked a way, I gave Carolina the evil eye and she chuckled silently. She tried to cover her laughter by acting like she was yawning. Oh, boy, did I owe her one!
“Good question, Carolina,” our dad said earnestly. “Indeed, fire would replenish the soil, but not before it consumed everything in its path. It's a part of the balance of life, but to the extreme.”
“Though destruction brings rebirth, you want it to happen in moderation, right dad?” Georgia piped in.
Kiss ass.
“That's exactly right, Georgia,” our dad applauded her wisdom. “We want to strive for moderation and balance in life. If we fail, then disaster erupts to force things back into their proper places.”
Blah. Blah. Blah. Our dad could be so long-winded. It's not like this was the first time he'd told us this parable of his. I got the lesson a long time ago: “respect the earth, live in harmony with all living things, and find your balance.” I wanted to go home now.
True to Minnesota's tendencies, the weather was fickle. You never knew what to expect from hour to hour, let alone day to day. That was the main reason Minnesotans layered their clothes. You have to have a way of managing the rapid and unexpected atmospheric conditions.
Though it had been chilly the night before, the day grew hot. The sun was horrible, especially coupled with the high humidity that was thick with the promise of impending storms. I felt sticky and I craved a nice, tall glass of ice tea. Besides, I wanted to see Chris.
“Humans are in need to. They're suffering like this field and though some will make it through the rough patches, others will burn up with any spark that flies their way.”
“What kind of spark can set a person on fire, dad,” Carolina asked, pretending to be completely engrossed in his tale.
This time I ignored her. I hoped she would stop egging him on if I didn't react to her game anymore. Still, if she didn't I had a backup plan; I'd punch her!
“Fear mostly,” our dad replied. “When people are afraid, they tend to feel desperate and uncertain. They'll act like any animal that has been cornered and they'll take whatever means necessary to break out from that feeling of being trapped.”
“That's why there are so many riots lately, isn't that so, dad?” Georgia offered smugly.
I knew if I tried to punch Georgia, she's best me. She was not only faster than I was, but much stronger. Still, I think the effort would be worth the pain, if she didn't shut up.
“Yes,” our dad confirmed. “People will act out in ways that aren't civilized or even appropriate when they're scared or feeling threatened. Right now, too many people are losing the things that make them feel secure in life, like their jobs and homes. People are getting desperate and with all the doomsday prophesies for 2012, some people are going a little crazy.”
Our dad looked at each of us in turn to be sure we were paying attention to his last point, “When people get all worked up like this and they feel like their world is falling apart, they do dangerous things; things that they wouldn't normally do. You need to know how to protect yourselves and how to survive if society breaks down.”
“You sound like a doomsday prepper yourself, dad,” I said absently. The words came out before I could catch them.
Carolina looked at me in surprise and Georgia gave me a reprimanding stare. Dad just smiled at me patiently and lovingly. He reached over to place his hand on the side of my face and kissed me on the forehead.
I met my dad's eyes and he responded, “Some people are a bit extreme about their approach for the potential of an apocalypse, but they aren't wrong to prepare. Of course, it isn't about squirreling away food or rations, but rather, it's about knowing how to exist outside of technology.”
“Dad, I get what you're saying, but don't you think this is all a bit much?” I asked openly.
“Dakota, darling,” my dad said kindly, “whether society continues as it is or collapses, a woman should know how to protect and provide for herself. You never know what tomorrow will bring.”
“Yeah,” Georgia contributed her two cents, “It's like the saying goes, 'give a man a fish and he can eat for a day; teach the man to fish and he can eat for life.' That's what mom and dad are trying to do; to teach us to fish.”
Dad smiled brightly at Georgia. Though dad would never admit it, not even to himself, I believed that Georgia was his favorite. She just absorbed everything he taught us and took him so seriously. More than that, she was sincere in her apostleship, which is probably why she was so eager to absorb every lesson my dad concocted.
I never wondered how my parents ended up with daughters like my sisters. They both fit so naturally into our family unit. Georgia was so much like our dad and Carolina was like our mom while I seemed to stick out like a sore thumb. I just didn't know where I fit into the mix.
“I don't think the world will collapse and even if there are issues, society won't break down as a whole,” I said.
“History says different, little sister,” Georgia corrected me.
“Sure, there are examples, but I don't think the United States will collapse any time too soon.”
“You don't know that,” Georgia protested. “People are getting more aggressive and violent by the day. The number of riots and terrorist attacks have increased substantially over the last few years; hell, over the last few months.”
“Georgia –,” I began, but my father cut me off.
“Girls, enough,” he said. “No one knows the future, but it doesn't hurt to be a knowledgeable fisherman, now does it?”
My sisters and I all looked a bit chagrin and uncomfortable. We all made murmurs of agreement in one form or another. Then our father added, “Good. Now, let's go home. Your mom is making a new recipe for us to try tonight.”
Georgia and I looked at one another in alarm, but Carolina looked excited. Our mother was notorious for trying new things from organic vegetation, most of which we grew ourselves in the back yard or had foraged for during one of our family nature hikes. Some of the things she made were definitely delicious, but some of the things were hellacious.
The week prior our mother had made sassafras candy using roots she had collected from the east coast of the United States. Mother had gone with dad on one of his business trips out to Maryland during the spring. When she saw the plentiful sassafras trees, she had our father stop so she could collect some roots.
Our mother loved to try new flours and often made them herself at home. It had been interesting to work with her while she processed the sassafras roots and her candy was quite good. I loved to learn about the medicinal and nutritional values that different plants had and how to process them. Like our mom, Carolina liked to cook new things with them, so it was a cool way for the three of us to spend time together.
Of course, I wasn't sure what to think of her meal for tonight. She was making soup with nettles and herb biscuits. The nettles I knew I'd like, but I was not too sure what to make of the biscuits. I knew that they'd be made with bulrush flour, but I had no idea what the other flour was that mom would use. She wasn't much for traditional wheat flour, so it was going to be a surprise.
I sighed quietly as I followed my dad and sisters out of the woods that had separated the prairie from the small homestead. We were just north of the Twin Cities Metro area, so we had about an hour's drive ahead of us. Though I loved my family and there were some things I really enjoyed about the lifestyle we lived, I mostly just wanted them to be normal. Instead of spending time in the woods with my dad talking about wildfires caused by hu
man fear, I would've preferred spending my Saturday at the movies or zoo with my friends.
“Oh, well. It is what it is,” I thought to myself.
As we drove home, I thought more about what my family had said. I understood their reasons for training for an unknown future; I got that we needed to be prepared. Still, I wasn't buying into the ideology of the total collapse of society. I couldn't decide if my family was right and I was just naïve or if I was just being realistic.
I understood people's fear and how that could impact a person. The idea of the “end of the world” was not only anxiety provoking, but just down right terrifying. With my faith, I believed in a life after this existence, so I really wasn't scared of death itself. My fears were caused by the way in which I might die; that freaked me out. After all, no one wants to die a horrible and painful death, right?
Going with my train of thought, I called to my dad in the front seat of our Honda Ridgeline. “Dad, do you really believe in all this doomsday stuff?”
I noticed my sisters in my peripheral vision as they turned their attention onto me. I wasn't sure if they'd appreciate my return to this topic, but I was curious. I didn't bother to acknowledge my sisters, so I didn't discover what their opinions might have been. Instead, I focused on my dad as he glanced in his rearview mirror a moment to address me.
“I do,” my dad began, “but not because I'm worried about the destruction of the Earth.”
“Yeah,” I nodded in understanding. “If the Earth is going to be destroyed by some act of nature, preparation won't help.”
“Exactly right,” my dad replied.
Georgia had turned forward in the front passenger seat again, but Carolina continued to stare at me. I glanced at her only to be rewarded with a loving smile. She sort of bumped playfully into my shoulder and so I leaned into her. I rested my head against her while my dad continued our conversation.
“There are a lot of things that threaten our civilized world,” my dad told us. “Acts of nature are a reasonable and legitimate concern, but they're not the only concern.”
A Ripple of Fear (Fear of Dakota #1) Page 8