by Bobby Akart
“Good point,” she added. “What’s in there?”
Jake dropped to a knee and opened the doors revealing the contents. On the shelves were a dozen bottles of Glenlivet twelve-year-old single malt scotch whisky. Behind them, was a small wall safe.
“Well, first we have the liquid gold,” said Jake as pulled out several bottles of Glenlivet and handed them to Ashby. She set them on a shelf next to the rifles.
After the bottles were removed, another panel was revealed that Jake moved to the side. A biometric keyboard was revealed. He punched in a four-digit-code representing his younger brother’s birthday and a green light lit up. Then he pressed his right index finger into a glass reader. After a second, the light began to flash, signaling it was accepted. A series of clicks occurred and then the small vault door opened.
Ashby dropped to a knee and looked inside. Even in the low light of the secret closet, her wide eyes could see the contents.
“We’re rich,” she muttered.
Chapter 3
The Mad House
Near Maple Creek, California
Jake pulled out five gold-strapped bundles of hundred-dollar bills worth fifty-thousand-dollars and handed them to Ashby. Then, he retrieved three wooden cases with clear glass tops. Each case held sixteen one-ounce gold bars issued by Credit Suisse. Prior to Yellowstone’s eruption, they were valued at thirteen-hundred-dollars an ounce. Jake quickly did the math and determined the gold was worth over sixty-thousand dollars or more if the news of financial markets collapsing were accurate.
They sat together cross-legged on the floor of the musty closet. Jake neatly arranged the gold bars where they could be counted, and Ashby mindlessly fluttered the bills with her thumb.
“Jake, you have to help me understand something. You and your parents had a falling out after you left college to be on Survivor. Your father cut you off emotionally, and later financially. For all of these years, you could’ve driven over here, opened this safe, and had nearly a hundred thousand dollars without anyone noticing. Why didn’t you?”
Jake hesitated and began to put the money and gold back in the safe. “For one thing, it wasn’t mine. The real reason, though, is I didn’t want it. I didn’t want anything from him. Ashby, as far as I’m concerned, he disowned me.”
“Disowned? Really?” she asked.
“Don’t get me wrong, I never heard those words come out of his mouth because, of course, we never spoke. I’m sure my mother heard it on more than one occasion.”
Jake put the money and gold back in the safe and closed it except for one bottle of scotch. Ashby was still curious.
“Jake, I have to ask. Do you still feel the same way?”
He began laughing. “I really don’t know how I feel about them right now but there’s one thing for certain. I’m holding in my left paw a bottle of scotch that was twelve years old when it was bought about fifteen years ago. That means its thirty years old now, which makes it even better”
Ashby was skeptical. “I don’t think the aging process works like that but hey, who am I to argue. Scotch and Spam it is. You pour and I’ll cook. Deal?”
Jake gave her an impromptu kiss and helped her off the floor. “You are a keeper, Dr. Donovan.”
“Yes, I am.”
While Ashby prepared a meal of canned corn, green beans, and Spam, Jake kept their glasses filled with scotch and water. Before he approved the use of tap water, he conducted two separate purity tests, one was visual and the other with his handheld water quality testers.
They allowed the water to run to clear the lines and then they poured several clear glasses full. Jake was looking at the water’s turbidity—the amount of cloudiness or haze in the water. Then, he used his water testers. Both provided a readout accuracy of plus or minus three percent which Ashby agreed was sufficient to test for contamination.
After the water, which was sourced from the Humboldt Bay Municipal Water District, passed the test, they filled up several pitchers and tall glasses to place them in the refrigerator. They both agreed to clean the guest bathtub and fill it with water as well. Despite the fact a river was located near the Mad House, Jake and Ashby agreed it may not be drinkable for much longer.
They filled their plates, refilled their glasses, grabbed a kerosene lantern, and walked through the sparse forest to the river’s edge. The babbling of water over the river rocks grew louder as they got closer.
Two concrete picnic tables flanked a path of pea gravel which led into the water. After Jake swept away a thin layer of redwood tree needles off the bench seats and table top, they got settled in for their first cooked meal since the Pressley’s farm in Oregon.
“This is incredible, Jake. I can see why you enjoyed this place.”
“When I was a kid, I came up here for the adventure. I guess you could say I was a typical boy who wanted to explore the woods, build tree forts, and play army. Only, there wasn’t anyone to play with.”
“What about your younger brother?” Ashby asked.
Jake took a sip of scotch. “We were, and still are, polar opposites. I wanted to play outside. He wanted to play video games. I hunted and fished. He read books. I swear, he was my father’s offspring and my mom got knocked up by the mailman or something, producing yours truly.”
“Don’t say that,” said Ashby. “It appears your mom loves you very much.”
“I know. I’m too hard on her, I guess. I kept waiting for her to force my father and I together. When it didn’t happen, I misconstrued that as my mom choosing sides.”
Ashby reached out to Jake and squeezed his hand. “Maybe now would be a good time to read her email?”
“We’ve had a great night,” replied Jake. “I don’t want to ruin it.”
“You’re not gonna ruin it. Read it Jake, and don’t assume the worst.”
Jake scooted his plate out of the way and brought the lantern closer to them. He pulled the folded-up email out of his pants pocket and began to read it.
“Well, the first part of this is directed at Mr. Barnett. It tells him to spare no expense in gathering as much food for us as he could find. Apparently, he has a credit card on file at the B & B that he used for expenses and upkeep of the house.
“She gives him her contact information in New Zealand and thanks him for his help, etcetera. Then she asked him to pass on the remainder of the email to me.”
“Do you wanna read it alone? If so, I totally understand.”
“No, I actually appreciate that you’re with me,” replied Jake. He adjusted himself on the concrete seat and placed his arms closer to the lantern so he could see.
“Jake, if you are reading this, I hope you and your new friend are safe. I have so many things I’d liked to say but it is time for me to go.
“I knew it would’ve been impossible for you to join us on the flight to New Zealand. I want to apologize from the depths of my soul for your father’s attitude although I’m sure you aren’t interested in my apologies. I’ve failed you as a mother over the years, resulting in immeasurable emotional pain to you, and I’m truly sorry.
“You have every right to be angry at me and very hurt. I take total responsibility for my behavior over the years, and especially for not taking a stronger stance with your father. Son, I wish I could go back in time and do things differently, but this is real life and changing the past is not possible.
“I was so proud of you for forging ahead with your dreams despite your father’s insistence on following his path. I have watched every television appearance and documented all of your successes in a big scrapbook. It was with me today as we prepare to take flight.
“Over time, our lack of contact was counter-productive. I know this now. You rightfully held anger and resentment towards me because I should have been stronger. I have always loved you and it made me physically ill to not be a part of your life.
“I cannot make up for the years we’ve been apart, but I’ve tried to do something to ease the challenges you will
be facing. For years, a deed to the Mad House in your name has been sitting in your father’s safe. Last night, I made him call the attorney to send over a notary. He signed it and it is being sent to Eureka for recording.
“The Mad House, and all of its contents, are yours. I realize this doesn’t ease the pain you’ve suffered from our being apart. It’s all I could do under the circumstances.
“Jake, I have never stopped loving you and I’ll worry about you while you are out west. It sounds like your new friend is a wonderful woman and I look forward to meeting her. Soon, this disaster will pass, and I promise you, we’ll find a way to be close. Love, Mom.”
Jake folded up the email and put it back into his pocket. He muttered the words, I love you Mom, as he wiped a few tears away. Then he turned to accept a hug from Ashby who’d never be able to speak with her mother again. That was real loss.
Chapter 4
Barnett Bed & Breakfast
Maple Creek, California
Jake and Ashby awoke refreshed. Joe Barnett’s ominous words as he left yesterday evening kept Jake up for a while last night, but he finally succumbed to his exhaustion. He was anxious to visit the Barnett Bed & Breakfast in Maple Creek to get a feel for their community, and how it had changed in the nearly fifteen years since he was there last.
Ashby was less interested in meeting the locals. Her goal was to get a good internet connection so she could conduct her own assessments as to the fallout from Yellowstone.
Jake disconnected the sandrail from the back of the motorhome and parked it in the garage next to the mountain bikes. All of the bicycle tires were flat but he had repair kits and an air pump to fix them. He doubted the trails he’d cut through the surrounding forest were still cleared, but at least he and Ashby could use them to ride around the roads. As he walked out of the garage, he looked around and imagined trying to ride the mountain bikes in a foot of volcanic ash. He wondered if the powdery substance would be easier than trying to peddle through snow or sand. Jake shrugged and hoped he never had to try it.
The Bounder, there most viable means of transportation at the moment, was below a quarter of a tank of diesel fuel. The sandrail was full of gasoline, and he had two backup cans procured from the Pressley’s barn. If they had to bugout for some reason, he wanted plenty of fuel to get away regardless of the vehicle they chose.
Ashby emerged onto the front porch with their rifles. “Should we bring these?”
“Always. We can’t take anything for granted now. Hang on. I’m gonna lock up.”
Jake locked the front door and took a moment to search the perimeter of the house to make sure no keys were hidden in obvious places. He wanted to believe the Mad House would be immune from break-ins, considering it had been sitting vacant for so many years. But Joe’s words continued to ring in his ears so Jake took the extra precautions.
As they drove to the Barnetts, Jake pointed out some of the places where he liked to spend by himself as a teen. He was surprised by his memory of perfect fly-fishing spots and areas to hunt. Jake liked the variety of wildlife in the area. Blacktail deer, Rocky Mountain Elk, wild pigs, quail and Rio Grande turkey were all abundant.
Just as they arrived, Jake promised to teach Ashby some gun basics. At the Pressley’s farm house, she was fortunate to catch the intruders off guard with her shotgun blasts. If trouble came knocking at the door in the form of intruders who’d been trained in firearms use, she wouldn’t have been so lucky.
Jake was not a seasoned military veteran like so many of his co-workers at Yellowstone. As a law enforcement ranger, he never expected to use his weapon. His training, however, was more than adequate, and it served him well that night at the Pressley’s farm. He suspected they’d be challenged again in the future and he needed Ashby to have the benefit of his knowledge.
One thing Jake knew from his instructors. Only a small percentage of Americans had actually been in a gun fight. Military vets and seasoned police officers were the exception. The key to success in a gun battle was confidence and a cool head. Jake had faith in his ability to handle a weapon. He also was well aware that wrecked nerves would most likely result in his death. It all came back to his training. Ashby needed to have the same confidence and cool demeanor he had. He knew she had it in her.
“I think this is it,” said Ashby as she pointed ahead. “Do you see the driveway just before that one-lane bridge?”
“Yeah. I hope we don’t have to cross it. This whale might not fit.”
Jake wheeled the Bounder around the narrow entrance flanked on both sides by a white fence. An ornate sign greeted visitors to the bed and breakfast and underneath, a simple black and white sign announced that this was also the office of the mayor of Maple Creek.
“Look, a welcoming committee,” said Ashby. Joe was standing on the front porch with several men and women talking. Considering Joe’s admonition from the night before, Jake found it interesting that none of them were carrying weapons.
Jake smiled and waved to the entourage. “Ashby, let’s leave our rifles in the truck.”
“Sure. What about my pistol?”
“Let’s keep them on. Always.”
“Are you ready for this?” she asked teasingly. “I feel like we’re going into a Welcome Wagon get together attended by the entire town of twelve people.”
“Yeah,” said Jake with a chuckle as he turned off the motorhome and rose out of his seat. “I’m turning on my strong, silent-type demeanor. How about you?”
Ashby chuckled and followed toward the door. “Yep. I’m the nerdy, reclusive scientist that’s extremely shy and only wants to look at a computer.”
“Works for me, at least for now.”
Jake and Ashby made their way onto the porch of the sprawling ranch style home that had a two-story addition attached at the rear. The welcoming committee was overly friendly in a folksy damn-glad-to-meet-you sort of way. After they exchanged some pleasantries on the front porch, they entered a large living area immediately inside the front door which consisted of two eight-foot dining tables, several leather sofas and chairs, and a reception desk blocking the entrance to the rest of the house.
Joe led them to the desk where Mayor Bennita Bunny Barnett rose to greet them. Behind the wire rim glasses of the mayor was a beaming smile and welcoming eyes. Ashby learned immediately why Bennita Barnett was successful at running the bed and breakfast, as well as the logical choice to be elected mayor of the small community.
Bennita was a hugger, and not in a slap-you-on-the-back kind of way. She was empathetic. As if she’d known you all her life. It was natural, gentle, and comforting.
“Welcome, Ashby. I’m so glad you and Jake could come by to visit.” Bennita moved over to Jake and gave him the same warm welcome. “The timing of your visit couldn’t have been better. I see you’ve met everyone already. Technically speaking, they’re our town counsel. In reality, we are all close friends who’ve lived and worked together for many years.”
Ashby took the lead. “Well, my apologies for coming unannounced. Frankly, our cell phones aren’t working and the house doesn’t have a landline that’s operable. I hope we’re not intruding.”
Bennita took Ashby by the arm and led her into the part of the living area where the couches were positioned around a ceiling-to-floor stone fireplace. “Not at all. As a matter of fact, after our council meeting, I was going to send Joe or one of the boys out to your place with a turkey fruit salad and a candy apple pie for desert. I understand you’ve been on the road for days.”
“Well, let’s just say I’m glad to be here. Bennita, I don’t want to be any kind of burden on you, but I will absolutely accept your offer of food. Thanks.”
The rest of the group took up seats and some opted to stand as the meeting was apparently ready to convene. Jake studied the faces of the people in the room around him. They weren’t warriors, but they weren’t defeated either. There was something about their attitudes that impressed him. He wanted to stay and be a p
art of the discussion, but he felt obligated to ask first.
“Mayor. I don’t—,” started Jake before Bennita suddenly stood a little taller in her sneakers.
“Listen up, you two. I know your both new and don’t know the ground rules yet.”
Jake heard a few snickers and chuckles from behind him. Bennita continued.
“Nobody calls me Mayor or Bennita. I’m Bunny to my friends and family, except my niece who insists on calling me Sissy, but then that girl always walked to the beat of a different drummer. Anyway, please, we’re real informal around here. Okay?”
Jake moved to Ashby’s side and the two smiled at the warmth exuded by this lovely woman. Jake spoke for them both. “Bunny, you’ve got a deal. We’d love to be a part of Maple Creek and I’m honored that you’ve taken us both in.”
“Good, then it’s settled,” said Bennita. “Now, I’ve got some blueberry muffins and coffee if you want some. Jake, why don’t you and Ashby take a seat in those two chairs by the fireplace.”
Ashby interrupted. “Um, Bunny. Would it be possible for me to use your internet? I don’t know if Joe told you, but I work for NASA as a volcanologist. I’ve been completely out of touch for over a week and I would like to review the data coming out of Yellowstone.”
“Say no more,” said Joe. “I take it you have a laptop in that Corona messenger bag. Corona is my favorite, by the way.”
Bennita gave her husband a playful shove. “Stow it, Joe. He’s never met a cold beer he didn’t like. Of course, you can have access. The user name is bunny ranch and the password is guest.”
“Thank you, Bunny. I’ll just sit over here out of the way where I can make some notes, if that’s okay?”
“Sure, honey. Make yourself at home,” said Bennita who then turned to Jake. “Jake, I do hope you’ll sit in. We could use the benefit of your expertise.”
Chapter 5
Barnett Bed & Breakfast
Maple Creek, California