“You’ve been through a lot, son. I’m sorry about your dad. What about your mother?” Jim gently pushed the boy to continue.
“Oh, she died years ago. It’s only been me and dad for over five years now.” Glenn hungrily cut another slice of pizza.
I noticed the sun was gone and shadows were creeping into the house. “Are there any evening chores we can help with?” I asked.
“I need to change Glenn’s sheets again. The clean ones are on the line and the chickens need to be cooped up for the night,” Annie sighed, standing up.
“Why don’t you tend to the bedding, I’ll take care of the chickens, while Jim and Glenn light the lanterns,” I offered.
“Are you staying the night then?” Annie asked, sounding hopeful.
“I think we can hang around another day. You still need a few more lessons on how to use all the great stuff your mother left for you and Glenn is still too weak to do chores. So, yes, we’ll stay the night,” I replied. These kids were hungry for adult companionship and guidance.
“Great! You two can have my parents’ bedroom!” Annie grinned. Sleeping arrangements hadn’t occurred to me.
“Allex can have the bed, Annie. I’m going to pitch our tent in the yard. Someone should stand guard tonight, just in case,” Jim was quick to make the change and I breathed a sigh of relief. Sleeping in the same tent in separate sleeping bags was one thing; sleeping in the same bed wasn’t something I had considered.
*
“All four of the kids are sound asleep,” I said, settling into the rocker on the porch. Jim had retrieved our two liquor bottles from the Hummer and poured us each an evening drink.
“How much longer do you think we need to stay here, Allex?” he asked casually.
“I think we can get on the road again tomorrow afternoon. If that’s okay with you.”
“That’s fine. I don’t want them getting dependent on us, that’s all.”
“Good point. I’ll show her a few more things and leave her lots of notes. I feel good about helping them, Jim.”
“I know you do, Allex. I do too, but too much help can hurt.” Jim said.
“How much firewood do they have now?” I asked.
“After I do some splitting tomorrow, I’d say about a month. That should give Glenn enough time to get his strength back,” he said. The darkness settled around us, and we finished our drinks in silence.
CHAPTER 8
April 15
I woke to the sun streaming in through dingy lace curtains and a little redhead sitting on the bed next to me staring in my face.
“Good morning, Jodi,” I said, and she jumped down off the bed and ran out the door, making me laugh.
*
“The colonel made some coffee for you, Allexa,” Annie said, handing me a cup.
“I’ll have to thank him,” I said sipping the hot brew.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” Annie said, looking embarrassed.
“Sure. You can ask me anything you want, however I reserve the right to not answer,” I replied, giving my standard reply to personal questions.
“Oh,” she looked like she was rethinking what she wanted to know. “Are you and the colonel married?”
I was startled at her abruptness. “No, we’re not. Jim and I are only friends. I can see where that might be misconstrued though, considering we’re traveling alone together.” I took a sip from my cup before continuing. “My husband, Mark, died four months ago from the flu. Needless to say, I took it very hard. I think Jim knew long before I did that I needed a reason to keep going, and this road trip is part of that healing process.” I don’t know why I shared so much personal information with this young girl, maybe I needed her to see me as just another survivor, like her.
“He seems like a good man,” Annie said with wisdom beyond her years.
“He is, and I’m lucky to have him as my friend. By the way, do you know where he is?”
“He and Glenn are walking the edge of the woods looking for deadfall to cut. Glenn is doing so much better already. Have I thanked you for saving him?” Annie’s lip quivered.
“If he had gotten enough fluids he would have healed on his own, eventually.” I looked out the window at a movement, and saw the two dragging a small tree. “What would you like to fix for breakfast?” I asked changing the subject.
“We usually have eggs and biscuits,” she answered. “Biscuits are something I’ve gotten good at making.”
“I remember seeing a home canned jar of sausage on the shelf so how about sausage gravy for those biscuits?” I offered.
“I never learned to make gravy,” Annie confessed.
“Have you thought of anything else you would like me to show you before we leave?”
“There’s a ton of stuff I need to know, Allexa, and no one to teach me. I don’t even know how to thread the treadle sewing machine. Are you sure you can’t stay longer?” Annie pleaded.
“We need to keep moving, Annie, sorry. I tell you what, though, if we’re anywhere close on our way back, we’ll stop in. How’s that?”
*
“That was really good,” Glenn said, pushing his plate aside.
“Biscuits with sausage gravy plus fried and scrambled eggs. That’s the way to win any man!” Jim agreed with a loud burp. “I’m almost too full to keep working!”
“Well, Annie and I have a couple more hours of going over some of these supplies. Why don’t you repack the Hummer before doing any more physical work?”
Annie cleared the table and I sat with some fresh coffee and a stack of 3x5 cards, jotting down notes. Many of the small appliances in the second pantry room still had the instruction booklets so I didn’t concern myself with them. She was a bright girl and would figure them out. She did need instruction with the grain grinder, the meat grinder and sausage stuffer, the juicer, and the dehydrator. Although the dehydrator wouldn’t work without power, I could show her how to use it with solar and I still needed to see about a bucket shower for them.
“Remember, with the grain grinder it’s easier on your arm and shoulder if you grind in stages. First grind is to crack the grain, especially corn. The second time through is for meal, and the third time for flour. Each time you need to tighten down the wheels,” I demonstrated.
We discussed each piece that was on those shelves, making notes or taking notes. All the while, Jim and Glenn cut and split firewood while the twins played in the yard.
I found a solar camp shower in the back behind some other camping gear. “Is there an empty five gallon bucket, Annie? I want to make a shower for you.”
I used a hand brace to drill a hole in the bucket right at the base, just big enough for the hose from the solar shower and used some tub caulk to seal it. From Annie’s father’s workshop, I found a heavy duty hook which I screwed into the ceiling in the shower and hung the bucket up. The sprinkler head hung down too low so I trimmed it back a few inches.
“Why couldn’t we just hang the solar bag?” Annie asked.
“We could have. I find the bucket is much easier to fill and adjust the water temperature. It’s a bit heavy when it’s full, though I doubt Glenn will have problem lifting it. Until you get used to it, you might want to try lifting a less than full bucket.” I took the empty bucket down and filled it with cold water to demonstrate how to use it. “The water is gravity fed, and even though it’s slow, that slowness has an advantage: you can stand under it longer. It’s like standing in the rain.” I opened the valve and the water sprayed out the nozzle.
“Wow…” was all Annie had to say.
*
We continued with her lessons, making bread in the Dutch oven on top of the wood stove much like she made biscuits, and then we did flatbread on the griddle. Doing it this way made me ever grateful to have my wood cook stove with an oven.
“Now, where is the sewing machine?” I asked. She led me to it and I sat down on the chair. I flipped the top open and pulled the sewing head out.
“The belt needs to be put on the wheel each time, and the machine won’t collapse again until you disengage it.”
“I’ve used it before but I don’t remember how to thread it or wind the bobbin,” Annie said.
“This looks very much like mine. Watch what I do.” I put a spool of thread on the spindle, pulled out a foot, and threaded the machine from memory.
“You make it look so easy. I’ll never remember all that.”
“In time you will do it automatically too. My mom taught me a real easy way to remember. In fact, she used this method as she got older and her memory wasn’t so good.” I took some scissors from the little cabinet and snipped the thread off at the spool. “Just leave it like that, already threaded. It will always be a reminder of how it’s supposed to go.” That suggestion earned me a big smile. Next I showed her how to wind the bobbin and how to fit it in.
Soon it was four o’clock in the afternoon.
“It’s sixteen hundred hours, Allex,” Jim announced. “We need to get a move on to get some distance before finding a campsite.”
“You could stay another—” Annie started.
“No, Annie, we can’t, we have to go,” I said, giving her a hug. “You will be fine now. Just remember to pre-filter the water and make clean water every day.” I turned to Glenn.
“I know, I know. No more peaches!” he said, embarrassed.
“Allexa, here are those eggs you asked me for,” Annie said. “With all you’ve taught me I wish I had six dozen to give you.” I knew better than to refuse her gift, as that would offend her.
“One quick question, Glenn. Does this road go all the way through?” Jim asked.
“No, it curves north about a half mile from my place and then dead ends. There’s another bigger road about five miles south of here. You’ll know because it has a sign that says you’re entering the Hiawatha National Forest Preserve. That road runs all the way to I-75.”
*
After cutting away fallen trees twice, we finally made it to the turnoff almost two hours later, just as it started to rain.
“How about we make camp right here next to the river?” Jim suggested.
“Sounds good to me, it’s been a long day.”
We pitched the tent under the wide arms of an old and stately oak tree, in hopes that it would shelter us somewhat if the rain got heavier. The sleeping bags were unrolled to get the air mattresses out and blown up. They were thin and cheap plastic and I knew they would keep us off the damp ground. Even though it was still two hours until the sun set, the dark clouds, filled with cold rain, cast a gloom to the day and it felt much later than it really was.
I lit the kerosene lantern and hung it from a hook in the center of the tent, hoping it would keep out the dampness, plus it offered the necessary light as we moved around inside.
“This is a nice tent, Allex. I’ve been meaning to tell you it was a good choice. I can even stand up in it,” Jim said. At six foot two, there were only a few inches between the top of his head and the center of the tent. Not having to stoop over all the time made a big difference to the comfort.
“Do you think we should run a tarp between the tent and the Hummer, Jim? If it rains much harder we’ll get soaked the minute we step outside. Plus it will let me cook outside.”
We set two ten by twelve tarps over a rope strung from the center tent pole to the Hummer, one for the rain and one to block the wind that was increasing. It made for a cozy and functional little room. I extended the legs on the camp stove and got to making fried Spam sandwiches for our dinner. Jim cast a questioning look at the meal.
“When I was a kid it seemed we always pitched camp in the rain. The girls’ tent was the biggest and the first to go up so Mom would have someplace dry to cook while the rest of us unloaded all the gear and set up the other tent for my folks. My brother had a floorless pup tent over the trailer and slept with all the food,” I said. “Fried Spam sandwiches were the easiest and quickest for her to fix. When you’re cold, wet, and hungry, that hot sandwich was the best meal!”
“Sounds like you had a good childhood,” Jim said. “Would you like Bordeaux with your Spam sandwich or a Merlot?” he asked with a straight face.
“I think the Merlot,” I said, cracking a smile. We sat on the wide tailgate of the Hummer and ate our dinner, drinking fine wine out of tin cups. The rain was definitely coming down harder and I could hear a rumble of thunder in the distance. The air was collecting a distinctive chill so we took the rest of the bottle inside the tent and finished it over a game of cribbage.
*
April 16
The morning air was misty and humid as the sun struggled to break through the clouds. I shrugged on my jacket and stepped from under the tarp, my booted feet squishing in the water-logged grass.
“Good morning, Allex!” Jim said, coming from the front of the Hummer.
“You’re mighty chipper this morning.”
“I feel it’s going to be a good day to travel,” he replied, taking a deep breath of fresh air. “I’m going to start taking the tarps down so the dew can run off before I fold them back up.”
“I think I’ll get a bucket of water from the river to wash up the few dishes from last night, and then I’ll help you break camp,” I said, walking toward the river and swinging the bucket.
With the steady downpour from last night, the river was running even faster than before. It looked almost peaceful in its turbulence. I knelt near the edge and dipped the bucket into the water, leaning forward awkwardly since the water level was at least a foot below the edge. I didn’t want the bucket to fill too quickly or it might get pulled from my hand. All of a sudden the soggy shore crumbled beneath my knees and the dirt gave way, propelling me forward even more, causing the bucket to dip deep and the fast current pulled hard at it, and pulled me headlong into the roaring river! I surfaced sputtering the dirty water, my clothes instantly soaked with the icy water. I was swept away before I could call for help.
I’d always been a good swimmer so I didn’t panic. My mom made me take swimming lessons when I was seven, to learn how to swim on top of the water because I was always under it. It’s funny what runs through the mind at a time like this. Only moments passed when I realized this was a very bad situation. My clothes were weighing me down, preventing me from doing much more than keeping my head above the waves, and a dark chill was already starting to seep into my bones.
I straightened out my body as best I could. The current tugged at my legs and arms and hidden branches caught on my clothes, dragging me lower. I thought if I tried to move with the water instead of fighting it, I might be able to get back near the shore. Might. My hip bounced off a rock below the surface and I think I cried out. I was getting tired quickly just fighting to keep my head up and my skin was already numb from the cold water. How long had I been in the river? Five minutes? It seemed much longer.
As I struggled toward the shore, I saw a bend in the river where a small tree had fallen in. If I could grab a branch as I went by, I could pull myself back. Who was I kidding? I was already exhausted! I felt something large beside me pushing my body. It was a submerged log perhaps, with a very strange feel to it: solid yet not. The tree loomed ahead and I raised my arms as best as I could. The tree slammed into my chest and I clung with the little strength I had left. I closed my eyes to rest as the water rushed by, pulling at me, and that log drifted away with the current.
I heard a voice calling me: “Let go, Allex. Let go.” Was that Mark calling me to him? I felt the current dragging at the back of my wet jacket and I resisted, clinging tighter to the log. “Let go, Allex!” I was so tired of fighting. I let go.
*
I felt the hard ground on my back and pressure on my mouth. I turned my head and coughed out a mouth full of muddy river water.
“Allex, please wake up!” I could hear Jim yelling at me. I forced my eyes open and immediately started shivering. Jim made me stand and picked me up over his shou
lder, fireman style.
“You have to get out of those wet clothes before hypothermia sets in,” he was saying as I leaned against the door of the Hummer. Jim was tugging at my jacket, my zipper, my boots, and all I could do was shake. I was so cold it was hard to think straight. He pulled my wet shirt off over my head and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders, and then he pulled my pants and socks off. He took the blanket from me and wrapped my whole body with it and then picked me up to sit me in the front seat of the vehicle where the heater was blasting wonderful hot air at me. Still, I shook uncontrollably.
I felt the vehicle move then stop. I didn’t care, the vents were still pouring the luscious heat at me and I closed my eyes.
The Journal: Raging Tide: (The Journal Book 4) Page 7