by Darrel Bird
silently into his pillow, and he slept.
They didn’t have much food to eat for breakfast, just a little oatmeal without milk or sugar. Austin missed his coffee more than anything. He had made the 20-mile trip to Longview in vain; the stores were ransacked, and the shelves were clean.
He had been shot at crossing the bridge over the Cowlitz river, but had escaped injury; he guessed the person hadn’t been much of a marksman, either that or they were only trying to scare him. He had spurred the mare to a full gallop over the bridge, and hid behind the abandoned filling station on the other side. He crossed the other bridge on the return trip without incident, but the trip was wasted, and he had returned empty handed. He was careful that no one followed him home.
The sun was shining as he walked out onto the porch the next day, it was late June, at least most of the rain was past for the summer, and for that, he was thankful.
He stopped and walked back into the house, “Mrs. Begs, is that your cow grazing in your pasture?”
“Well, yes it is Mr. Childers; you can do what you want with her, but she’s dry as a hayloft, she hasn’t given any milk for weeks.”
“I was thinking more of eating her, if that’s alright with you.”
“Mr. Childers, you just go on ahead, and do what needs to be done, that includes everything I own, and I don’t want you asking my permission.”
“Well… it don’t seem right for me just to take over.”
“These aren’t the best of times Mr. Childers, and its good to have someone trying to do right by us after so long a time, so you just go along, I know you’ll do what’s right, and good.”
He caught up the mare. He stopped by the house and picked up his rifle, holstered his forty five automatic, then cut through the fur trees toward the back of the Begs pasture where he had seen the cow.
He stopped the horse as he came out of the tree’s, and looked at the snow-capped mountain, Lord you sure made one beautiful earth, the sun glinted off the snow, and the air was so clear it seemed to him; he could reach out, and touch the top of the mountain.
His eyes came around to the pasture then he became stock still, and alert. There were two men busy at something right at the tree line, then he saw the cow lying on the ground; they were cutting meat off the cow.
He chambered a bullet into the 308, then walked the horse forward. The men were so busy cutting meat that they didn’t see him or hear the horse come up on them.
He spoke, and they both jerked around, “Don’t go for them pistols gentleman; I would hate to have to bury two more men today, since I just got done burying one man already.”
The men looked at the rifle in his hand, and he could see them gauging him. What they saw didn’t seem to their liking, and they brought their hands up slowly.
“We were hungry Mr. We were up to the house, but there was no one home. We didn’t know it was your cow, honest.”
“It ain’t my cow; it's Mrs. Begs cow, but one thing for certain; it ain’t your cow…I’ll tell you what, you men take what meat you got cut off there, then go find you some country where I ain’t… deal?”
“Yes sir, we appreciate it; we'll sure do that.”
He watched the other man closely who had said nothing, as they gathered up the meat. He decided they were both just hungry men, and in different times, probably decent, hard-working men. Their clothes hung off them in tatters, and he wondered how long they had been scavenging.
“Where you men from, if you wouldn’t mind telling me?”
“We’re from Los Angles. It's really bad down there mister…what did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t, but its Childers…but go on…what’s it like down that way?”
“Its down right primeval is what it is, people just soon kill you as look at you, maybe rather. We barely got past Sacramento without getting killed, and eaten!”
“You mean there’s cannibalism going on?”
“There sure is, we saw a group of men around a camp fire down by Sacramento; they had a man strung up by his arms in a tree, and they was cutting meat off him like he was a pig or sumpin…scared us both so bad we run till we dropped. I ain’t never seen nothin’ like it in all my born days.”
The men stuffed the meat in a plastic bag, then one of the men slung it over his shoulder.
“I’d shake your hand Mr. Childers, but as you can see I ain’t fit right now.” He looked down at his bloody hands.
“You men can clean the blood off your hands yonder across the road in the Cowlitz River. You can take what you need from that house yonder, but I wouldn’t be around here come sun up.”
“We won’t be around Mr. Childers; we won’t forget your kindness toward us neither, will we Jim?”
“No, we won’t forget it; we ain’t had much kindness shown just lately, if we ever have the chance, we will repay in kind.” The other man said.
“Just pay it forward, and that’ll do me.”
The men walked toward the Begs house, and Austin wondered at what the world had become. He watched them until they were out of sight, then began cutting what meat was left off the cow. He wrapped the meat in the hide, and started the horse for the barn, making his way back through the trees. He didn’t want to take a chance going the way the men had gone; he didn’t think they would try to kill him, but they might.
That night the group prayed, and gave thanks for the meat, but the meal was subdued as he told them about what he had learned from the men.
“Do you think they will come here Grandpa?” Lisa asked around a mouth full of food.
“I don’t think they will honey, seems like they wanted to try to get somewhere, I warned them not to hang around, but I’ll scout the area out in the morning.”
“Please be careful Austin, I couldn’t live if anything happened to you.” His wife looked at him across the table.
“Now Martha, try not to worry, I’ll be careful, besides, you know I’m a tough old bird.”
“Yeah, but you are not indestructible.”
“Eat your supper Martha, and quit worrying’.”
His daughter winked at him across the table, and he winked back. They had always understood each other, and sometimes he felt closer to his daughter than he was to anyone else in his family.
He lay awake until late again that night, thinking about what he learned from the men. He thought that more people would be coming soon…hungry people, and his sleep was fitful the night through.
The next morning he strapped his forty five automatic onto his belt before he left the bedroom to come to breakfast. The women were already at table when he sat down.
“Why are you wearing a gun Grandpa?” Lisa asked.
“Because worse times are coming honey, I want you all to keep the old double barrel twelve gauge handy by the front door in the living room, and I want you to keep both barrels loaded at all times from here out. More people will be coming, and we don’t know what they might do.”
“Is that necessary Austin?” His wife asked.
“Yes it is Martha; we have to protect ourselves against those who would force war on us.”
“I don’t envy the decisions you have to make Austin, but I’ll stand by them.” He looked at his wife of fifty years, and he knew in his heart, he would quickly lay down his life for her safety, or for that matter, any of their safety, and he dreaded what was coming at them, danger, hunger, and death abundantly.
“We can go back down to the house to live Mr. Childers; we don’t want to be an added burden on you.”
“And what would you do there Mrs. Begs, how would you care for yourself, and Paul? No, you are part of this family now…there ain’t no room for pride left to us. You need to stay here. I can’t, nor won’t force you, but please stay and work together with us.”
She stared at her plate, saying nothing, but he knew he had won the argument.
“Son, lets you and me go down to the River, maybe we can catch something today.” He took his Steal Head pole from over t
he mantle, and the boy followed him out the door.
The boy said nothing as they walked the hundred yards from the house, down across the black top to the River that ran close to the road.
He tossed the hooks out into the swift stream with his favorite lure, and wished he had some Smelt for bait instead of red worms.
The sun soon became warm, the boy sat silently with his hands wrapped round his knees, and soon Austin closed his eyes, and dreamed of better days when he rode his Harley with the small group. The bee’s worked at the blooms, and clouds floated over head like great ships plying an ocean of air.
His pole jerked, and Paul got excited, waking him. Paul began jumping up and down with his excitement as the great Steal Head lashed the line. The Steal Head stood on it head in the gravel on the bottom trying to spit the hook out of its mouth, and Austin set the hook hard.
Austin played the large fish, tiring it out; he would let it run, then start reeling again, and soon he was able to bring the fish to the bank. He grinned at the boy as he danced on the bank of the River, and he felt the boy would be all right, given time to heal from the mistreatment.
“We got us some good supper son.” He laid his hand on the boy's shoulder. The boy