Once safely in the Rhino, Josh said, “Ready for your tour?”
“I’ve never been so ready to get out of a house since I visited my in-laws. I need some sun on my face,” she replied.
“What! You’re married? Why haven’t you said anything about a husband before?” he asked clearly stunned by the news.
“It didn’t come up. But if you must know, I’m divorced actually,” she answered.
Changing his demeanor, Josh said, “Oh, what happened?” Before she could answer, he corrected himself, “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business. When I meet someone else that’s been through the ‘big D’, it makes me curious. It’s a comparison of scars kind of thing I guess.”
“It’s all right. We just grew apart. I was being stationed all over the place and he couldn’t take the constant moving. He lacked ‘companionship’ he said. So he found it elsewhere.”
“Kids?”
“No, thank God.”
“You don’t like children?”
“Quite the contrary. I just mean it would have made a bad divorce even messier.” Then she chuckled and concluded with, “My dad said I was better off.”
“What’s funny about that?” he inquired inquisitively.
“Oh, I was just remembering my dad’s nickname for him is all.”
“Which was?”
Samantha replied, “He called him the ‘godless heathen’.”
“Because he was an atheist?” Josh asked, astounded at her candor.
“No,” she said laughing. “He was an unabashed Democrat.”
Josh snorted a laugh at the answer as he put the Rhino in gear and said, “Ready?”
“Absolutely,” she replied.
Josh released the emergency brake, and began working his way around the farm. He pointed out various fields and plots and explained what crop is planted where. It was difficult for Samantha to imagine some of it due to the snow cover. He showed her the orchard and the acreage that was used for grazing. After that, he swung by the winter and spring wheat, grain, alfalfa, and hay.
Josh also described how the local farmer’s barter network worked. Essentially, everyone traded and swapped amongst themselves for silage, individual grains and seed types, not to mention livestock and dairy.
“You name it and someone within twenty miles probably has it and is usually was willing to make a fair exchange,” he said.
“What are those three mounds,” Samantha said as she pointed in the direction of the greenhouses.
“Those are the root cellars. We grow so much produce on one acre of land that the extra is stored in there. We save the excess for the network, farmer’s markets, and food pantries. A couple of years ago, when the ‘owners’ expanded, I renegotiated the contact in order to obtain whatever they didn’t sell,” he answered.
“But why use cargo containers? Why not just use block and mortar?” she asked.
“Convenience mostly. All we had to do was dig a hole,” he replied. “Each container is 2,500 cubic feet of instant storage, times three. We repurposed half of one to hold cured meat for a couple of the nearby farms though.
“Show me,” she said.
Josh drove over and parked in front of the mounded earth so Samantha could see the stairs that had been recessed into the ground.
“Why bury them?” she asked.
“Root cellars, in general, only work if you can keep the produce at a fairly constant temperature and humidity. Burying the structure aids in that. These stay between 45 and 50-degrees year round.”
“No electricity?”
“Other than lighting, no. The dirt does all of the refrigeration.”
“How come the roof hasn’t collapsed? I’ve loaded and unloaded my share of containers and I know those things buckle if you even look at them wrong.”
“Basically, we dug a giant hole, dropped ‘em in, and then built a steel and concrete slab over top. Before I back filled it, we installed some stairs, basic lighting, better doors, and the necessary ventilation. Once all of the dirt was in place, I added a little solar panel and battery for the lights then threw some grass seed on it. Easy as that.”
“And the food just sits there and doesn’t rot or spoil?”
“For the most part, yeah.”
“So, you’ve got your own little grocery store. Between you and the other farmers, I mean,” Samantha remarked.
“I guess we do,” Josh replied.
Samantha turned in her seat and pointed across another field to some shack structures off in the distance. “Are those outhouses over there?”
“Outhouses?” Josh questioned before turning in the direction she was pointing. “Oh,” Josh chuckled, “those are smokehouses. That’s where we cure the meat.”
“So let me get this straight. Between you and the other farmers, you grow your own produce and silage, you have the capacity to mill your own grains, and you store and smoke your own meats and cheeses. Where the hell did you people come from?”
“What do you mean?” he asked inquisitively.
“Society doesn’t live like this anymore. I mean, suburbanites have their own little gardens here and there. Maybe they manage to can half a dozen jars of something each year, but most of the population moved to the cities after the gas shortages. Commercial agriculture provides all of the food for this country. Why do you guys do this?”
“Well, this one acre of hydroponic greenhouses generates fresh organic produce to dozens of high end restaurants in Columbus, Cincinnati, and Cleveland as well as a number of smaller colleges in central and southeastern Ohio. Other farms throughout the region have similar setups where they grow multiple lettuces varieties, herbs, all types of peppers, vine crops likes cucumbers, and tomatoes galore. Distributors use the other farmers in order to supplement whatever we can’t. Big Ag typically uses soil and has a defined growing season. When winter comes, suppliers have to import. We grow year round; therefore, we are considered more reliable sources.
“The mainstream grocers and wholesale clubs are stocked, by and large, by the commercial guys because they are buying massive quantities on a daily or weekly basis. They have to find different growers depending on the season too. We supply the connoisseur, the health conscience, and the little guy.”
“But why do it?” Samantha asked.
Josh, hesitant to directly answer the question, offered, “Why not. It costs relatively the same and it’s natural and healthy. I’m actually thinking about starting some aquaponic tanks and raising fish and vegetables in the same enclosed system. The concept is pretty neat and uses far less water and electricity. I’m still trying to get my head around it though, so I haven’t pulled the trigger on it yet.”
Samantha detected the hesitancy in his voice. She really wanted to know what he was preparing for, but there was something else. She could feel it. Pausing and turning her head to take a long look over at Josh, Samantha decided to change the subject and push for a little more. She wanted to see where it might lead.
“Is there more to it than that, Josh? I get the feeling that I’m not being told everything. Katherine alluded to a drinking binge which was the result of something they’re not sure of. Can you tell me what happened?”
Josh bowed his head and began contemplating something.
Samantha had been the beneficiary of some very informative “girl talk” over the course of their weekend visit home. She had sensed that Josh was not telling her the whole story. While trying on and modeling clothes, the other women had indicated that, in addition to his more recent odd behavior, something happened during Josh’s military career. Nobody seemed to be volunteering information on any front.
Surprisingly, the girls had been very forthright with her about their mother, their abduction, and their father’s retribution. When she mentioned that she had noticed certain topics triggered some sort of dissociative state similar to PTSD, they explained the details surrounding the trial.
Even though she knew all of this, she could see that
he was getting closer to opening up the doorways to the damage. To the hurt and the memories of whatever happened to him.
“Josh, what is it? I thought we were in this together. You can tell me anything.” She held up her cast-laden leg and said, “Look. See? I’m not going anywhere.”
Without looking up, Josh said, “What have the girls told you?”
Surprised by the question, Samantha responded with the whole truth, “They only mentioned the stuff that affected them directly. Amanda, the trial, the acquittal. How you raised them, alone, out here on this farm. How you’re still alone, not letting anyone in beyond what can be downloaded from the internet. Layla, predictably, seems content with it, but I get the sense that Katherine wants more for you. She recognizes that something’s missing.” She waited a few moments before adding, “Is there more to the story, Josh?”
Josh didn’t react to her questions. She watched him as he formulated his response, but said nothing. He’s acting as if he half expected the explanation and the question.
Josh started picking at the steering wheel with his fingernail. Sam could see that he was working his way through something. Finally, he replied, “A lot more.”
“Well, I’d love to talk to you about it, if you want.”
Screw it. I might as well tell someone.
“After Amanda’s funeral, her sister handed me a letter. I didn’t fully understand what she had written, or at least I failed to notice it at the time. It seems that she apparently fell off the wagon because a daughter I never knew about showed up out of the blue,” he explained.
“Oh,” she replied before she had fully processed his truthful reply. “That’s not so bad. Lots of people find out they have a child after the fact. It can’t have been easy to learn that though. Who is she? Do you know where she is?” she asked.
Josh didn’t answer Samantha’s question. He simply reached into his back pocket and handed Samantha the envelope.
Samantha hesitantly took it and removed the handwritten document. As she began reading, Josh stepped out of the Rhino and lit his pipe. Josh stood there in the cold February air enjoying his new found freedom. He silently rejoiced at finally having shared his secret.
His euphoria was broken after several minutes when Samantha knocked on the window to get his attention. Josh took one last pull of the relaxing smoke and scanned the horizon. He tapped out the ashes on the side rail of the Rhino’s bed as he re-entered the cab.
Before he was fully situated Samantha started to hand him the envelope back and asked, “Josh, why didn’t you tell your family any of this?”
“They were already dealing with so much that the thought of burdening them with this was too much. I couldn’t do that to them. They had just lost their mother, as wretched and as evil as she was.”
Samantha didn’t say anything for a few minutes. The pair just sat in the warm ATV and observed the snow rollers working their way across the expansive and dormant fields.
“Can I ask about the trial?” she said reluctantly.
Josh cocked a wary eye at her.
“It’s just that Katherine has been somewhat forthcoming... more so than Layla. I was just curious,” she concluded.
Josh continued to watch winter drift on barren field when he responded, “You want to know how I beat a double murder charge?”
“Well, yeah,” she answered.
“You wonder why I shut people out? It’s questions like that.”
“Josh, it’s not like that – “ she started to say before he cut her off.
“You want to know why we moved out here into the middle of nowhere Ohio? It’s because all of the people I know and trusted; friends, neighbors, co-workers, everyone really, started looking at me like I was some sort of ticking time bomb.”
Before she realized what she had said, Samantha blurted out, “Well, can you blame them? It’s not every day someone walks away from that, especially when they are guilty as sin.”
Samantha quickly covered her mouth and began shaking her head. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “That was totally insensitive of me. That’s not what I meant.”
Josh was half tempted to kick her out of the Rhino. It took everything he had to keep his hands on the steering wheel and not around her neck. “You know,” he said. “I’m constantly amazed at the level of ungratefulness in people nowadays. Are you asking because you’re trying to head shrink the psycho or are you just curious to see if you’re gonna find me standing over your bed while you sleep? You’re unfreakin’ believable.”
“That’s not fair. That’s not what I meant at all. I don’t live in fear of you, Josh Simmons. If even half of what Katherine shared is true those two pedophiles deserved everything they got, and then some. I was only asking because I’m trying to understand you better. That’s all. I swear.”
Josh loosened his grip on the steering wheel, but still didn’t look at her. “You want in my head ‘Nurse Ratched’, here ya go. I was being tried for murder, even with the extenuating circumstances of my daughters kidnapping, and the lawyers needed to explain my actions. They got a hold of my military records and saw that I had been tortured as a POW during the Bosnian War. They used that experience as a basis for a PTSD diagnosis in my defense.”
“My God, Josh. How have you managed to stay sane during all of this?” she asked.
Calmer now, Josh answered, “The doctors gave me little devices, or coping mechanisms, to calm me when I get too worked up about a particular subject. I’ve found that cooking works best. Plus, I’ve got the girls and the farm to keep me busy and take my mind off of things.”
She really wanted to know about his time as a POW too, but she didn’t want to antagonize Josh further.
After a few silent moments she suddenly remembered to tell him about the visitor she had dealt with.
“Oh,” she said as she changed the subject. “I meant to tell you. Some insurance guy stopped by the other day while you were out. He said he came by earlier and you ran out of the house butt naked and started shooting at him.”
* * *
“Hey, Katherine. It’s Adam,” the young man spoke into his headset.
“Oh, hi, Adam. What’s going on?” Katherine replied before covering the mouthpiece of the receiver and mouthing the boy’s name to her sister seated on the couch.
Layla darted through their campus apartment to snatch the phone from her sister. Even though they were older, neither was above saying something silly to embarrass the other. Katherine didn’t put up much of a fight and eventually relented.
“Adam,” Layla said excitedly. “What’s going on? Are you still coming over tonight?” she asked quickly.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t dream of canceling on you. But hey, listen, some old creepy dude was asking questions about you and your sister earlier today.”
Layla instantly straightened up and motioned for her sister to come over and eavesdrop on the conversation. Josh had been so paranoid about the GPS tracking capabilities on cell phones that he banned them for his family. Layla and Katherine Simmons were probably the only students in the whole of Ohio University that still had a traditional stationary wall mounted home phone.
“Did he say what he wanted?” Layla questioned as she feigned indifference toward the oddity.
“He said it was regarding your mother’s estate.”
Layla covered the receiver and whispered the word “Toombs?” to her sister. She replied by silently nodding her head.
“Oh, that’s weird,” she said casually trying not to alarm her would-be boyfriend. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him the truth. I said we didn’t have access to personal information from the systems that they let the work-study students use.”
“OK. I’ll keep an eye out for him then,” she attempted to say as nonchalantly as possible. “Can you describe him though, just in case I see him,” Layla asked.
“About six foot, medium gut, bald... probably, I don’t know, fifty or sixty years old.”
“No problem. Are we still meeting to study at eight?” Adam replied.
“Sorry, I need to cancel,” Layla responded as she abruptly slammed the receiver back into the cradle on the wall.
Layla immediately picked the phone back up and dialed her father. No answer. She held down the receiver again and then rang Evan’s number. He answered almost immediately.
“Hello there,” he said as picked up the call without a care.
“It’s Layla! We need you to come get us!” she said excitedly into the archaic device. “How far away are you?”
“About twenty minutes. Why?” he asked.
“Toombs is here snooping around. We need to evac now!”
“Get packed! I’ll be there in ten!” he commanded and hung up.
Evan had worked for their father managing the greenhouses for years. One of the duties that had not been on the advertisement for the position had been part-time bodyguard, but it was a role he was more than willing to fulfill. When Josh wasn’t available, he was the immediate back up.
Layla quickly put the phone back in its cradle and called out to Katherine. “Get packed. Road trip!”
“Already done!” she responded as she exited her room. She was wearing her pack and carrying Layla’s.
Katherine threw the bag at her sister as she approached her.
Layla immediately swung the rig over her head and began tightening her shoulder straps. “He said ten minutes,” she offered.
Katherine didn’t respond. She just placed her index finger against her lips and quietly went to the window to spot for Evan’s arrival.
Evan wove his way through the rural roads easily doing double the speed limit. He toned it down when he hit the Athens city limits. The delay of receiving a ticket was not something he was willing to risk. The girls were the priority.
Eleven minutes later he turned down the alley to the girl’s apartment and discreetly tapped the horn twice.
“Let’s go,” Katherine ordered in a whisper to her sister.
When Rome Stumbles Page 13