Lisa thought, Well, there are two generals we can’t trust—Steve and Charlie. But she still kept silent. She waited for Jill to speak. She respected Jill.
But Craig spoke instead.
“I’ve been thinking that we should grow food. We can do it now; we don’t have to wait till spring. I’m making a solarium. It’s like a greenhouse, and we can raise vegetables in it, even in winter. We can live on vegetables. I know, because my dad told me about vegetarians. We can raise enough to get by.”
Now we’re getting somewhere, Lisa thought. She urged him on silently.
But then Jill spoke. “So what if you raise food? Are you going to share it with us? If your crop is bad, who gets what little there is left?”
“We do, Erika and I. But why can’t you do the same? I don’t mind teaching you how. With all those kids, you’d have plenty of gardeners.”
Someone else said that they should try to make friends with the Chidester Gang. Another kid thought it would be a good idea to hire Tom Logan’s gang. “We can give them food from your secret supply places, Lisa, and they can protect us. Why should we go to all the trouble of making our own militia?”
Lisa just had to speak now. “We can use my supply? My secret supply? No thanks, I will decide what’s done with my supplies! You don’t mind, do you?” She was mad again. It was time for her strategy.
“You’re all worried about food. You say there isn’t any, so you want to start a gang of thieves. But there are lots of other things you’re going to need besides food. How about aspirin? Band-Aids? Soap? Matches? Flashlights? Charcoal? Toilet paper? Bactine? Vitamins? Seeds for your solarium? Where are you going to steal these things when all the supplies are used up? What good will stealing do, then or now?”
Lisa reached into her bag and pulled out a sample of almost every item she had named. Then she pulled out a Coke. “Who wants one of these?” And a handful of candy bars. “Who wants these?” Then she threw 10 packets of vegetable seeds on the ground—carrots, corn, pumpkins, beans, and some others.
She had shown enough. Their eyes widened as they stared at the treasures scattered at her feet.
“I know,” she continued, “where to get hundreds of each of these items. My house is filling up with them. It’s not because I’m lucky or because I’m some kind of special person. And it’s not because I’m stealing. It’s because I decided to use my head instead of crying or praying or forming a gang!”
She wasn’t finished yet. “But I’m not sharing a thing, not a single thing. You can attack me if you want, but I’ll burn it all before I let any thieves have it.”
Her plan hadn’t included getting angry, so Lisa relaxed her voice. It took a moment. “Craig is right. Soon we can survive by learning how to grow things. Until then, my sources will keep us alive. But I won’t share anything until we all agree on a militia.
“For Craig’s garden to grow or my ideas to work, we have to have protection against the gangs. When they run out of things to steal, they’ll come after us. Someday, if we’re smart, we’ll be growing food and making things, and we’ll learn how to survive forever without taking from anyone. But now we need a militia. It will give us time to use our heads and a chance to protect what we have. I’ll share what I know with those who will support the militia.”
She was finished. It seemed that her strategy was working. No one had any criticism.
“Any more discussion?” Lisa asked, hoping that there would be none.
“Then,” she added, “I call for a vote. All those who promise to support the militia, stay here and we’ll start to make plans. Those who refuse, go back to your homes.”
Nobody moved. So it was agreed.
“Craig can be the commander of the militia,” Lisa said. “Let’s meet here again tomorrow at four, and Craig will present his plan for our defense. I’ll help you, Craig. I have some ideas. Anyone else who has suggestions, please give them to Craig before the meeting. Also, will each house decide on an alarm and tell us what it is tomorrow?”
That was the end of the meeting. One of the children asked Lisa if there would be popcorn tomorrow. She smiled and said that there would be.
The Grand Avenue Militia was formed.
Lisa’s mind was alive with ideas that night. Somewhere in the middle of her thoughts, Todd interrupted. “What does strategy mean, Lisa?”
She was too tired to be sure, but she answered. “Strategy is a plan for action that you think will work. If it does, it’s a plan that is logical.”
The word logical helped make it clear to him, and he asked, “What was your plan at the meeting?”
She explained that she had brought the popcorn to gain the children’s confidence. Then she had let them run out of words before making her deal—food in exchange for a militia. Finally, to convince them that she wasn’t just talking, she had shown what was in the bag as proof.
“To be free, you need protection against people who want to control your life. No one should tell you how to work or take what you have earned.” Then she was too tired to say anymore.
“Good night, Toddy-boy. Tomorrow will be a busy day.” Before she put her thoughts to rest, she remembered something else that was important.
Ever since the plague, she had been ignoring her friends and neighbors. She and Todd had created their own private world, and now she could see how dangerous that could be.
“They don’t all see things the same way I do,” she thought. “I should keep more in touch with them, or I could lose everything I’ve worked for.”
She recalled Charlie’s comments, and Steve’s, and Jill’s. Obviously, her ideas weren’t obvious to everyone. That the Chidester Gang would steal and that her best friend would deceive her—these things proved that she needed to be a part of their society. Or at least she would have to keep her eyes and ears open and help to build their community into one that could protect her freedom.
All the brilliant ideas in the world would be useless if that world collapsed around her and she was the only one left to steal from.
CHAPTER SIX
L
isa had to start by trusting someone. So she walked over to the Bergmans’ house. Craig saw her coming and opened the door.
“Will you ride with me for supplies today, Craig?” she asked. “We can talk about the militia as we go.” He made no comment. “Oh, and you can bring a list of things your family needs, because I think we’re going to find a gold mine today. I mean a place filled with all kinds of supplies—almost everything we need.”
She had used the right words. He agreed to come. “See you at nine,” she said.
Craig was waiting nervously by the car. What’s the matter with him? Lisa wondered as she approached. He didn’t seem to notice her at all. His eyes were fixed on the scratched and dented body of the Cadillac.
“That poor car has been through a lot,” she admitted, “but I’m a pretty good driver now. You’ll see!”
That wasn’t quite enough to reassure him. He’s probably thinking some snotty things about women drivers, Lisa guessed as they both climbed in. From the corner of her eye, she caught him struggling with his seat belt. I’ll show him! Concentrating hard, she steered the car smoothly out into the street.
“Still worried about my driving?”
“Just take it easy, Lisa!” Some of the paleness had already left Craig’s face.
Lisa ignored the warning. “I have one source already that’s pretty good. It might have enough food for the whole block to live on until spring, but I’m not sure.” Lisa was speaking of the farms on Swift Road. “But today we’re going to check out another idea I have. If I’m right about it, we’ll find food and supplies to last for years. There might be other important things there, too, like medicine and tools.
“But first, Craig, you have to promise to keep my idea a secret, an absolute secret. If you help me on my trips, you can use the Secret Place to get whatever your family needs. I’ll decide about sharing it with the other k
ids when I’m sure they’ll support the militia. Okay?”
“Okay, but tell me where we’re going. I can’t leave Erika alone too long. And please slow down, Lisa, you almost hit that telephone pole!”
Big baby, she thought to herself. I wasn’t even close to that pole!
“Well, we’re going to try to find . . . .” She hesitated, still not trusting him. “Do you promise, Craig, to keep this a secret? No matter what happens?”
He agreed, and she trusted him. After all, what choice did she have? Making the supply trips alone would be hard, and it wouldn’t be safe for her to be away so much. With help, she could cut the time of each trip in half. And it would be good to have someone along for protection, even if it was Craig.
An important thought came to Lisa. “There’s one other promise I’d like you to make, Craig. If something should ever happen to me, please promise to take care of Todd. It’s a fair deal. My Secret Place can give you food to stay alive. All you have to do is keep my secret and be responsible for Todd if he ever needs help.”
“Sure, it’s a deal. I’ll be your insurance policy for Todd. Now, please tell me about your big idea.”
“Okay. We’re going to try to find the Jewel Grocery warehouse on North Avenue. If my idea is right, it’s full of millions of things we need.” She looked at him. “If any place has lots of food and supplies, don’t you think it would be a grocery warehouse?”
“Yeah, you’re right. It’s a great idea! But what made you think of it?”
“I don’t remember exactly,” she answered.
“Watch out, Lisa!” His warning came just in time as she swerved to avoid hitting a stray dog.
They drove east toward Elmhurst, slowly and in silence, and looked out at the streets they passed. There was no sign of life except for a few homeless animals. The stores and factories along North Avenue were deserted.
They wondered where the children of these neighborhoods had gone. Had they all moved away? What kind of life did they have now? How were they learning to survive? Someday, Lisa thought, when things were more secure, they might come back for a better look. But not today.
At Highway 83, Lisa and Craig stopped to study the map. Above them a dead traffic light watched over an empty intersection.
From the road, it was hard to read the numbers on the buildings. The fact that the warehouse would have a large “Jewel” sign painted on its front didn’t occur to them until, happily, they saw the large blue letters. They had finally arrived.
To Craig’s surprise, Lisa drove past the building and turned into a side street. She explained that it was important to hide their discovery by circling around on the back roads to the rear of the building. In front, the moving car would attract attention, and it would be stupid to lead the gangs to her treasure.
But her heart sank when she saw the broken second-story windows of the warehouse. They seemed proof that she hadn’t been the first to think of the idea. Not so smart after all, are you? she chided herself. Her confidence faded. Angrily, she turned the car away.
“What are you doing?” said Craig. “Aren’t you even going to look inside after coming all this way?” But she kept driving. “Stop, Lisa. Go back. We should at least look!” She stopped the car and glared at him.
“Lisa, look at that building over there. It’s just an old factory, and its windows are broken, too. Maybe some kids just had fun breaking windows and never bothered to look inside. Look—the doors are still shut.”
“Sorry, Craig. You’re right. I guess it would be dumb not to look at least. We’ll go back.”
She turned the car around and drove back to the warehouse. Before Craig had unfastened his seat belt, Lisa was running toward the door of the building. It was shut tight. Good! And the lower windows were unbroken. Great! She picked up a large brick and ran along the outer wall, toward the nearest window.
“Wait, Lisa!” Craig’s shout followed her. “Don’t break in there. It will just make kids curious.”
“And don’t you shout!”
When he caught up with her, she said, “Okay, how about one of those windows over there behind the bushes?” He nodded, and soon they were smashing the glass of a large pane.
“Now go to the trunk of the car, Craig. Here are the keys. Get the box of tools. We’re going to have to saw through these bars.”
He walked back to the car and unlocked the trunk. Lisa had quite a collection of tools in there. Craig was impressed.
With a hacksaw, he began sawing vigorously at the hard steel bars. Lisa gave him an account of what she could see inside the building. “I see rows and rows of big boxes. I can’t tell what they are, but I’m sure no one has been inside.” The hacksaw was sharp, but it took at least an hour to cut the main bar in two places.
Craig slipped between the bars first and then helped Lisa up and through the window.
They walked in silence, not believing their eyes. What treasures they saw! There were tools, medicines, clothing, matches, candles, charcoal, flashlights, paper plates, can openers, soap, and all kinds of food. It seemed that everything they would ever need was in there.
For the next hour they wandered through the long, wide, crowded aisles, their flashlight beam piercing the darkness ahead of them. They ran from row to row. “Craig, look . . . over there!” He saw a hundred, maybe a thousand cases of canned pop stacked all the way to the ceiling. Lisa thought about all of the new friends she could make with those cans.
“Look over here!” and they tried to guess how many jars of peanut butter were in a stack of cases near the loading ramp.
“I didn’t think there was this much soup in the whole world, Craig. Hey, I’ve got a deal for you. You can have all the cream of asparagus and I’ll take the chicken noodle.” Much to her surprise, he agreed. Weird kid, she thought. He actually likes cream of asparagus soup.
Looking at all that food made them hungry. “Let’s eat!” Craig said as he pulled a can of pears from a box. She brought some potato chips out from a huge stack of cartons. They made a meal of pears, potato chips, and warm pop. Craig opened a second can of pears. It was sloppy fun to eat them with your hands.
While they ate, they talked about the potential of this Secret Place. How should they move and hide all these goods? No matter how they did it, they must keep the warehouse a secret. Craig understood now how important that was.
Lisa came up with a plan. “We’ll take all the canned goods, and I mean every single can. They will last a long time, at least a year, I’m sure. Breakfast cereal and boxed-up stuff like powdered milk can’t last forever, so we’ll take only enough to last till spring.”
She continued. “We’ve got to find several different places to hide the supplies in case one of the places is discovered. We’ll put a supply of each item in each place.”
For starters, they decided on six hiding places where the other kids were least likely to go: an empty hangar at the DuPage County Airport, the silo at the farm on Swift Road, the basement of Cottington’s Furniture Store, and the furnace rooms of three churches in Glen Ellyn.
But as their plan unfolded, the fun and excitement gave way to hard work and realization of the danger ahead. They knew that their trips would have to be made at night in total darkness—there could be no car lights on the long drive down North Avenue. It was frightening.
“Lisa,” Craig warned, “the militia meeting starts in one hour. We’d better get moving.” They rushed to load the car with the things they’d never expected to have again—chewing gum, marshmallows, popcorn, pop, and candy bars.
“You drive home, Craig,” Lisa said, as she climbed into the other side of the car.
Driving scared him at first, but he tried not to let it show. To make it easier for him, she said, “I learned by remembering the instructions my dad gave over and over when he taught my mother how to drive. He said them so many times that I learned them by heart.”
Lisa recited the instructions while Craig guided the car slowly and clums
ily out of the warehouse lot. “Look all around you . . . release the brake . . . easy on the gas . . .”
The car shot forward and demolished a trash can next to the warehouse. So, Craig thought, that’s what she meant by “easy.” The can did no damage to the car besides making another dent in the right fender. “This car is indestructible,” he said.
As they drove away, Lisa looked back, not wanting to lose sight of the warehouse. It now seemed 100 times larger than when they had first discovered it.
The two children rode quietly for a long time, looking out at the wintry grayness. They thought about the Secret Place. The warehouse offered security and an end to their struggle against starvation. If they were smart and careful about moving and hiding their supplies, they might have a whole year to plan for the future.
At first Lisa had wanted to get even with Craig for his “back-seat driving,” but she knew that it would be wrong to tease him now. Craig was a natural driver, and Lisa told him so. Besides, he was fun to be with. If they worked together, they would have a better chance.
Craig was the only older boy she knew. She thought she understood his fears, because they were the same as her own. It was good to understand someone that way.
Craig wanted to know about Lisa’s other secret sources. When she explained about the farm on Swift Road and described the inviting note from the old lady, he became interested.
“You know, Lisa, if I could choose any kind of life in this mess, I think I would be a farmer. Growing things is a lot of fun. Let’s go to that farm sometime. My father taught me a lot about gardening, and I know I could raise food. Wouldn’t it be nice to stop looking for food and start making it instead?”
The Girl Who Owned a City Page 5