Allison's Secret

by D Stalter

  “It’s amazing!” Allison ran her hand over the door. “Just amazing!”

  “But, wait! There’s more.” Like a game show host, he pointed at a 4 inch PVC pipe that ran from the corner of the plywood seat up through the ceiling. “It’s a vent.”

  She smiled. “Who ever thought I’d be excited to see an outhouse? But, I’ve only been gone four hours. How did you get this done so fast?”

  “Don stopped this morning just after you left. He had his son, Jimmy, bring the backhoe over and help me put this up. I gotta tell you, that Jimmy is a slave driver. He’d probably have had it done faster if I wasn’t helping.”

  He closed the door to the outhouse. “What’s our next job?”

  “I think we need to clean out the shop before the lumber truck gets here. We can put the tractors in the old shed. For now, let’s leave the stacks of wood in the shop. They might find something they want.”

  An hour and a half later, the sound of a large vehicle coming down the road brought them outside into the warm, sunny afternoon.

  The huge box truck backed up to the shop’s 12-foot overhead door. Rolly jumped out of the driver’s door and approached James to shake his hand. “Good to see you again, James. I wish it were under better circumstances.”

  The passenger door opened with a squeak and three men exited.

  “Where is Steve?”

  “He’s behind me with the smaller truck. We found some things that weren’t on your list but I think they’ll help. Meet the crew, Owen, Jake and Mark.”

  James stepped forward. “Owen, Jake, it’s good to see you again. Nice to meet you Mark.”

  Allison smiled and stepped forward. She didn’t know any of the crew, but she wasn’t surprised that James knew them. James had never met a stranger.

  “Follow me,” she said. “I’ll show you where the walls are going and you can decide where to unload the lumber.”

  Five minutes later, a smaller box truck backed into the driveway. Steve jumped out of the driver’s seat and a tall, thin woman of about 30 climbed out of the passenger side.

  “Hi, Steve.” Allison walked out to greet him. She gave the woman a questioning glance.

  “Don’t let my size fool ya.” The woman grinned. She reached her hands behind her head and tied her long blond hair into a pony tail. “I can work construction circles around these guys.”

  “I agree.” Steve stepped over to Allison. “Meet Greta Burke. She grew up just down the road from here. Do you know Adel and Julia Burke?”

  Allison frowned. This woman was about 30. She had thought that the Burkes were in their 80’s. The ages didn’t match up.

  “I’ve talked to them. Adel has helped in the hay field a few times. I didn’t know they had a daughter.”

  “We didn’t socialize much.”

  James and Rolly stopped unloading the big truck and walked over to stand by Allison. Allison started to introduce the newcomers, but James just smiled and welcomed them both by name. Allison shook her head.

  Come on,” Rolly called, opening the roll-up door to the box of the truck. “Look at the treasures I brought you.”

  At the back of the box sat a large kitchen wood stove. About four-foot-wide and two and a half feet deep, the shiny black stove sat on four claw feet.

  Rolly patted it on the side. “This will heat the whole bunkhouse. It’ll keep a fire most the night, it comes complete with an oven. We need a couple guys to unload it though. It weighs over 400 pounds.”

  Steve and James moved to the back of the truck and were joined by Jake. They carried the stove into the shop and set it in front of the open overhead door. “Where do we want this?”

  Allison surveyed the shop. “Well, we have two stories wrapping around the west, north and east sides of the shop. If we put the stove here on the south wall, we can pipe it straight up without having to go through a second floor.”

  “Great idea!” Rolly said. “This is about the center of this wall so it’d be ideal for heating. Let’s set it here and when we get ready to install it, we’ll only have to move it a few feet. I’ve got all the piping we need in the front up there. Once we get the rooms framed, we can take a break to install this and get it running. Won’t need it for heating yet, but we’ll want to cook on it.”

  “I also brought a cast iron pump. I figured we could hook it to your existing well and, if we are lucky, we can run hoses so we don’t have to haul water too far. Where is your well?”

  James pointed towards the house. “It’s only about thirty feet from here so a garden hose will work. Thanks! I was worried about hauling water from the creek.”

  “Hold up on that water pump,” Jake said, stepping in closer. “In my past life, and I mean just a couple days ago, I worked for Johnson Well Drilling. We’ve got a few Simple Pumps back at the shop. Let me grab one of those and the piping. It’ll be a whole lot easier and reliable. They are designed for running inside a drilled well.”

  “I’ll pick up a couple maintenance kits as well. The only thing you ever have to replace on those things is the seals. And that’s only every five years or so. How deep is your well so I know how many drop pipes to get?”

  “A hundred and twenty feet,” Allison said.

  Jake raised his eyebrows. “You knew that off the top of your head?”

  “Well, we built this house ourselves and it had been a lifelong dream. I can even point out to you within a few feet of where all the underground lines run.”

  James chuckled. “Ally might forget what she came into a room for, but she will never forget things about the house we built

  Rolly pointed towards the front of the truck. “I brought a half dozen fifty-foot garden hoses just in case. We’ll have spares if we need them. There is also paint and hardware in boxes. And,” he waved his arm and pointed at another box, “a 14,000 watt Dewalt generator. That’ll come in handy for our construction project. Now, let’s get this stuff unloaded and we’ll come back early tomorrow morning to start work.” Rolly pointed out where he wanted the material stacked and the crew began unloading the truck and stacking lumber.

  When they were done, Rolly approached Allison. “Hey, Chief McCall suggested you come in to town the back way tomorrow. It seems like those FEMA guys at the Days Inn have been getting a little pushy with our townsfolk. Yesterday, after you left, Leonard Sells drove past the Days Inn. A couple FEMA guys stopped him and tried to take his truck.”

  “What is FEMA doing here so soon after the flare? I would think that they’d be concentrating on bigger cities.”

  Rolly shrugged. “Look at our small town. While most of the big trouble has come from strangers off the Interstate, there are some problems in town. People breaking into houses and stealing food and such. I haven’t heard of any violence yet from townspeople, but when they get hungry enough, it’ll get violent. In the big cities, they’re already way past this point. They’re killing for food and I’m sure there are many killing just because it’s fun and they don’t have to worry too much about getting caught. FEMA will let those places take care of themselves and come here where the pickings are easy.”

  “And Chief McCall is Okay with FEMA camping out at the Days Inn?”

  “Well, Chief McCall hasn’t been letting outsiders off the Interstate, but if they need help, he takes them to the Days Inn. So, it’s actually giving him someplace to take people we don’t want in town. FEMA loads them up and takes them to a camp somewhere down by Bloomington.”

  He patted his pocket, then reached in and pulled out a handkerchief which he used to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “Some of the townspeople have voluntarily joined them,” he continued.

  “They think the FEMA camp will be safer than here. I say good luck to them. Those FEMA camps are clusterfucks.” He ducked his head and cringed. “Sorry for the language.”

  Allison smiled and waved her hand. “No harm. I’ve said it, too.”

  “If it’s OK with you, I’d like to leave Steve here tonight so you don�
�t have to drive to town alone. Unless you send James, but even so, two bodies are better than one. And the idea you have to allow a few people to bug-out here in exchange for labor is nothing short of fantastic. We all need to work together to make this work.”

  “No, James will stay here. I’ll be going. James is more comfortable with doing rather than planning. I promised Frank that I’d go over some suggestions for helping the town with him. I have to go. And there is plenty of room for Steve to stay here. The rest of them too, if they want.”

  Mark and Owen wanted a lift back to town. Jake said he’d just as soon stay and help Steve work on the bunkhouse. Greta also wanted to stay and help. She said that she’d be getting up at sunrise and walking the two miles to her parents’ house to check on them.

  Day 2 - Nightime Discussion

  The big box truck pulled out of the driveway leaving behind the smaller box truck. Greta, her long blond hair threatening to escape the ponytail, locked the cab and placed the keys in her pocket. She held a padlock out to Steve which he took and secured the back space.

  “I can sleep here in the cab,” Greta said as Allison came around the corner of the truck.

  “No you can’t. You can take the spare room and Steve can sleep on the couch. While you guys finish up here, I’m going to get supper on. I’ve got chicken and frozen french fries that I have to get used up. The freezer is close to being defrosted. I’ve got to get this food used up or dried tomorrow.” She was turning towards the house when the sound of motorcycles stopped her.

  They all turned to look towards the highway. The trees blocked the view of the highway but the rumbling proclaimed a lot of motorcycles. Steve stepped to the barn and picked up his rifle. James came around the side of the truck with his AR-15. Greta reached into a fanny pack that Allison hadn’t seen and came out with a Glock. Allison felt a wave of embarrassment when she realized that she, the group’s self-appointed planner was the only one not prepared.

  The droning of the motorcycles continued south, toward town on the highway.

  “I wish we had some way to warn Chief McCall,” Allison said softly.

  “Those FEMA guys should be able to handle them.” Steve said. “Go ahead and get supper ready. We’ll finish up here. I think I will sleep in the cab of the truck tonight. I’d rather have eyes out here.”

  “We should follow them,” Allison said. “Provide backup for the town.”

  “No. They are prepared in town. And, those FEMA guys at the Days Inn will stop those guys before they even get to the Interstate. Town will be OK. And, you of all people, should understand that in order to do the most good, you need to take care of yourself before taking care of those who need rescuing.”

  “But...”

  Steve held up his hand. “Doers like me are a dime a dozen. People who can plan and make it come together are far rarer and Chief McCall said that you are one of the best planners he knows. If you get hurt, the rest of us will wander around here doing a lot of things, but I don’t think it will pull together as well as if you are here to make it happen. We’d never be able to bring dozens of town people out here. I think you can save not only the ones you bring here, but the whole town. Let’s stick to this and get this place set up. That’s the best way to help the town.”

  “But...”

  “No, Allison. Chief McCall told me that it was my job to keep you and James safe. You can do more good doing exactly what you are doing than playing soldier. Now, go cook your chicken. I’m going to lay out some lumber and get it marked so we can get to cutting it first thing in the morning.” He picked up a backpack and rummaged through it until he found a sweatshirt. He pulled it over his head and moved to the lumber.

  Allison cut potatoes and wrapped them in foil, along with some frozen green beans that had started to thaw. Tomorrow she would need to either cook and eat the rest of the perishables or find a way to store them safely. With a half dozen workers here, she could get rid of most of it without wasting.

  She started the grill, placed the foil packets towards the back and set to preparing the chicken for grilling.

  Greta hauled the wheelbarrow to the woodpile and carried load after load of firewood to the attached garage before stacking some wood in the fireplace and getting a fire going. She stepped out onto the deck. “Do you want me to set the table?”

  “Sure. And then see if James and Steve are ready to call it a night and come in to eat.”

  After the meal, Steve leaned back in his chair. His hands rubbed his belly. “Oh, boy! That was good. Thank you.”

  Allison blushed. “Thank you. James usually does the grilling so I wasn’t sure I was doing it right.”

  “You did good, honey.” James patted her hand.

  Allison’s forehead wrinkled. “I wonder how things worked out with those motorcycles. I hope everyone is OK in town.”

  “You know,” Steve said. “Now that you mention it, I don’t recall hearing any gunshots. It’s only a couple of miles. If there had been any shooting, we would have heard something.” He turned to Greta. “Did you hear anything?”

  Greta, who had not spoken during the entire meal, simply shook her head.

  Allison tilted her head. “Greta, did you say that you grew up just down the road?”

  Greta looked up. “Steve said it. But, yes, I did.”

  “Forgive me for saying this, but I thought your parents were a lot older.”

  “They are. I was a surprise baby. Mom was almost 50 when I was born.” She smiled.

  “What year did you graduate?”

  “1999.”

  “That’s the same year as our nephew. We went to a lot of school functions. I never saw you or your parents there.”

  “No.” Greta raised her head to gaze at Allison. “We stuck to ourselves.”

  “But your parents are friendly people. Maybe not overly outgoing, but I’ve never known them to not say ‘hi’ when they see me. They don’t seem antisocial.”

  Greta maintained eye contact with Allison. “They stuck to themselves because not all the neighbors or townspeople thought they should be here.”

  Allison felt her breath quicken. What could these people have done to be shunned by the town? It had to have been something that nobody wanted to talk about.

  “Why did people think they didn’t belong?”

  “Because my father fought in World War Two.”

  Allison took a drink before answering. “So did my dad and my uncles.”

  “My father was a German pilot.”

  Allison’s mouth dropped. Some people had no tolerance for outsiders. Some looked for reasons to hate. The thought of the kind of life Greta must have led caused a tear to trickle down Allison’s face.

  “I’m so sorry!” She stood up and rushed around the table to hug Greta. “I never knew, but if I had, I would not have judged him or you.”

  “Yeah.” Greta choked back a tear. “Not many can say that.” She quickly brushed a tear from her face and cleared her throat. “When he and my mom finally were able to escape Germany, they came to America with nothing but a piece of paper that said ‘Hugh Blackson Princeton Illinois’.”

  Dad worked odd jobs on farms moving west every time he had enough money to move on. He finally got to Princeton and found Hugh Blackson. He worked for him for ten years. He and mom lived in the farm manager’s house. When Mr. Blackson died, he left dad 40 acres with the farm manager’s house on it.”

  Greta dropped her head and stared at her hands folded in her lap. “People accused Dad of stealing the land. Two months after Mr. Blackson died, someone burned my parent’s house down in the middle of the night. They barely escaped.”

  Allison shook her head. Most the farms in the area were passed down from father to son so what Greta was saying was that people Allison had considered friends had attacked their own neighbors. She leaned back in her chair and let out a deep breath.

  “I’m so sorry!”

  “They rebuilt the house.” Greta started stack
ing the plates to carry to the kitchen. “Not all the neighbors were violent. And, after the house was burned down, some of the other neighbors were nicer to my parents. They helped them. But, my family has never been accepted.”

  Allison stood to gather the rest of the dishes from the table and wondered what else she didn’t know about her neighbors who she had always trusted and considered generous and forgiving.

  After dishes had been cleared, they sat on the wide front porch. Allison had an insulated flannel jacket buttoned to the top button. Greta was wrapped in a plush blanket with horses running down the edges. Steve sprawled on the top step, leaning against the post. James sat opposite smoking a Marlboro. Jake had stretched out in a lawn chair in the barn right after supper, his exhaustion evident in the speed in which he fell asleep.

  “I wonder how long it will be before we start seeing the violence.” James stubbed his cigarette out and pinched the end before placing it in his pocket. Allison wrinkled her nose. His jeans stunk of cigarette, and on the occasions when he forgot to remove the butts, her washing machine ended up with tobacco that had to be wiped out.

  “It’s hard to believe last week is a lifetime away.” Steve tilted his head to look at James. “People from Chicago or Rockford are probably already seeing the violence. Even smaller cities are probably seeing their fair share. It won’t be long until they realize that they can’t stay where they are. They will need to move to look for food and shelter. Most will probably move south to escape the winter unless they have friends or family in Wisconsin who have prepared. But, I’d bet most everyone from the cities will head south. Directly towards us.”

  Allison drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. “I was on I-80 when the flare hit. I remember thinking that I was lucky I was in walking distance of home. I saw so many out-of-state plates and I remember thinking that some of those people were going to have a tough time finding gas to get them home. Once their tanks ran dry, they’d be stranded.”