The Journal: Crimson Skies: (The Journal Book 3)

by Deborah D. Moore

  ~~~

  After the two left for Marquette, I pulled Mark aside. “So what’s in the van?” I asked.

  “Christmas,” he said, smiling even broader. “It looks like Jim emptied a liquor store.”

  Rayn coughed subtly.

  “Ma’am,” she looked really nervous, “would it be alright with you if I went home with Eric?”

  “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” I replied, reaching out to give this new member of our family a hug.

  CHAPTER 29

  October 25

  With what we were to face today haunting my thoughts, I slept poorly, finally falling asleep at four o’clock in the morning. The alarm went off at six.

  Freshly showered and fortified with coffee and toast with jam, we headed back to the township offices to organize the next wave. As prearranged the night before, we all drove our own vehicles, not knowing when someone might have to leave. Before we arrived at the township office, I noticed another large semi-truck in Fram’s parking lot. It must be our Walstroms truck, filled with supplies.

  Rayn and Eric came in casual fatigues with Eric proudly sporting his maroon beret. They also had rifles and sidearms, and would be stationed inside by the check-in desk, in full view. Ken and Karen were to control the parking lot, while Jason and Amanda worked in the office kitchen preparing an easy meal. This next group could be the most disorderly of all.

  A long line of personal vehicles began filling Fram’s parking lot and a full school bus pulled into the township offices at ten o’clock. Men and women spilled out, dragging suitcases and plastic bags. The ones that caught my attention immediately were the two women with six children. I singled them out and ushered them into the meeting room.

  “You should have been on yesterday’s bus,” I said.

  “I’m sorry, but we were still rounding up the kids,” the youngest one replied, clearly exhausted.

  “I’m Holly Crawford, and this is my sister Ivy. Please, no jokes,” the other one pleaded. “We are, or were, middle school teachers. All these children are orphans we’ve been caring for. If at all possible, could we stay together? The children have been traumatized enough.”

  “I have the perfect house for you two,” I said, thinking of the big house with four bedrooms across the street from the school. “Here, fill out these cards, and I’ll have Amanda take you to your new house.”

  Teachers! Another problem solved on its own.

  Out of the corner of my eye I caught a familiar face. “Gray!” I called out to the town’s only paramedic. He turned my way and smiled. “It’s so good to see you. I heard you might be coming back.”

  “It is home, ya know? When everyone left or died, I felt I was more useful in Marquette. Now…” Gray looked around, “I think I can help again. Has my house been assigned to anyone?”

  “No, it hasn’t. I marked it off-limits. You can go home anytime you want. Have some lunch first.”

  “Ramen noodles again?” he asked with a grin.

  “Nope, I think it’s vegetable soup today,” I said, remembering the two cases of noodles I gave him during the flu outbreak last winter.

  I found Tom out in the parking lot organizing the restless bunch.

  “Everyone whose wife or parents might already be here will be next. File into the meeting room and we’ll find where your family is,” Tom said. He had a very loud and commanding voice when he wanted to.

  It took close to an hour to process the forty men that came forward; most were husbands, some were fathers and brothers. Only two didn’t match up to anyone.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t have those names listed,” I shrugged. “Are you sure they were to come here and not Escanaba?”

  They both assured me their families were on the bus yesterday. All I could do was take their names and keep searching our records.

  Tom had a small group of the remaining horde enter the office and take numbers. One young man swaggered up to my desk.

  “What a pretty cougar,” he leered at me, leaning across my paperwork where I got a good look at the tattoo on the side of his neck that disappeared down into his shirt. “I really get off on powerful women.”

  I was speechless.

  Eric immediately stepped in between us. “Back off, sonny.”

  He smirked. “Oh, is she yours, soldier boy?”

  “This ‘cougar’ is my mother,” Eric replied, his voice turning to ice.

  “And my wife,” Mark said, stepping forward protectively.

  The young man straightened up, looking guilty.

  “I suggest you have a seat and wait for your number to be called,” I said politely. I’m not likely to forget that face.

  Four women approached my desk.

  “We need to be housed together,” one of them stated simply.

  “Your names?” I asked, a bit taken back by the abruptness.

  “I’m Sister Agnes, this is Sister Margaret, Sister Doris, and Sister Lynn,” she replied.

  “Nuns?” I was astonished. They were dressed in jeans and sweaters, not even the casual short shirt habits I’d seen before.

  “Yes, and I suppose our attire is misleading. However, we felt these garments were more practical and more suitable for the… occasion. We do have our habits packed in our suitcases,” Sister Agnes gave me a smile that lit her makeup-less face.

  “Somewhere around here is Father Constantine. He’s always wandering off talking to someone,” Sister Margaret commented.

  “A priest,” I stated, stunned. “Excuse me a moment. I’ll be right back.” I needed some privacy. I went out the maintenance service door that led to the grassy courtyard behind the offices. I felt the tears burning behind my eyes as I lifted my face to the morning sun.

  “Oh, Carolyn, I don’t know if you would approve or not, but I do know you would understand, and if you don’t approve, forgive me anyway.” I wiped my eyes with my cloth hanky and went back inside and sat down at my desk.

  “Sisters, I know just the place for you. It’s a large house, right next door to the church, and it even has a separate apartment over the garage for Father Constantine. I hope he’s able to negotiate the stairs.”

  They all smiled at me, Sister Lynn giggled. At that moment a young blond man of about thirty, maybe thirty-five, joined the group. Although he too was dressed in jeans and a sweater, he also wore a clerical collar. If this was the priest, he certainly wouldn’t be having an issue with the stairs. He looked very fit, possibly a runner.

  “Sorry, Sisters, I got distracted,” Father Constantine said, giving me a beatific smile that reminded me much of Pastor Carolyn. “I overheard you say the house was next door to a church. Is it the Catholic church?”

  “Yes, it is, Father, although I have no idea what kind of congregation you may be having, if any.”

  “It matters not. God’s word is God’s word. In fact, I’ve always wanted to try non-denominational services, and it might even be wise considering our circumstances.” He radiated kindness, and I knew I was making the right decision in housing them in Pastor Carolyn’s former residence.

  “If you don’t mind waiting, I’ll find someone to take you there. Meanwhile, help yourself to some coffee or tea. Soup will be available at the Inn after noon. They’ll be feeding the children first.”

  ~~~

  It felt like we had barely put a dent in the parking lot numbers after three hours. Tom asked for a short conference.

  “We still have maybe a hundred to go and I doubt we will finish today. All of you know this town better than I do - any suggestions?”

  “We could drop off six or eight to each empty house and hope for the best,” Ken said.

  “What about Camp Tamarack?” Jason suggested.

  “What’s that?” Tom asked.

  “It’s a summer camp for underprivileged children,” Jason said. “There are maybe twenty cabins that sleep four to eight each. The cabins are only used for six to eight weeks in the summer, so might be a bit rough. The men could
stay there until more permanent houses are assigned. ”

  “There are less than twenty women left. They shouldn’t be difficult to relocate,” I said, thinking out loud again. “Tom, you need housing too,” I told my friend. “I think you should have Bob and Kathy’s house. It’s central and you could walk here.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, knowing it was one of the places I had set aside.

  “Absolutely sure, because you are going to run this town, not me, and you need to be available to the people. I’ll help, but this group needs a man at the helm. You are by far more qualified for the job than I am. Why don’t you come home with us for dinner tonight and we’ll talk about it.”

  “Thanks, I might even take you up on that drink. Do you have enough?”

  “You have no idea,” I laughed, thinking of the van in our driveway.

  ~~~

  I took the package of thawed venison out of the refrigerator and browned the meat in a large pot along with a chopped onion. After I snipped off the piece of nylon that contained the onion, I stuffed it into the top of the hanging pantyhose. Some day we will make a washable toy with those scraps.

  I added a minced clove of garlic to the pot, then a jar of canned peas and a few dried herbs. While all of that simmered I made a paste of flour and water to thicken the juices into gravy. Mom always served this over mashed potatoes, with us making a “volcano” with the gravy ladle. Potatoes were too few right now, so I made a small batch of pasta and a larger batch of rice so the guys could have a choice.

  Mark and Tom went out to the Christmas van and brought in a case of mixed liquor and a case of red wine.

  “I propose we toast to Colonel James Andrews, for being thoughtful and generous in leaving this gift for us,” Mark said. We were all in a good mood and a bit distracted, so when the vehicle with a very large trailer pulled in the drive, it startled us.

  A much disheveled colonel stepped down from the Hummer and we all rushed outside.

  “Jim! I thought you were going to the Soo?” Tom greeted his friend. “Have things been delayed?”

  “No, everyone is on their way,” Jim sighed. “Can we open some of that Gray Goose?”

  “With or without ice?” I asked, smiling as we went back indoors. It was really good to see him.

  “With, please. We haven’t had ice in a week,” he replied.

  I poured him two inches in an Old Fashioned glass, and added a couple of cubes to chill his drink.

  “Not that we’re complaining, Jim, but why are you here?” Mark asked.

  The colonel sipped his drink and closed his eyes for a moment. “Would you mind if I washed up first? It’s been a long and harrowing drive.”

  We waited patiently while Jim washed soot off of his hands and face. Meanwhile, I set another place and put the steaming food on the table.

  Once everyone had food on their plate and a slice of buttered bread, Jim told his story.

  “All of the semi-trucks, tankers, and vans had taken up positions on the west side of town where the fires were the least. They each had their instructions and directions and were only waiting for the school buses and other vehicles to show up so they could leave. While they were waiting, they had to move the tankers even further out when it started getting really hot,” he paused for another forkful of rice and meat.

  “I went back to the sports arena to hustle the buses and military transports. It was even hotter there – the air temperature was getting close to a hundred and ten degrees. Everyone was finally on the road that skirts town to the north, Fleet Street, and I knew they would meet up with their convoys within the half hour.

  “It took me about ten more minutes to do one final sweep of the arena to make sure no one was left behind. I shut the big gennie down and attached it to the Hummer to take it to the new base at the Soo. That’s when I heard the explosion. The power plant on the corner of Fleet and Alabaster blew. I was completely cut off from our escape route with fires burning all around me. There wasn’t any way I could get through on Fleet. Even the pavement was burning, but there was a small break on 695. I had thought of trying to find another route south or east, then I remembered the munitions going off at the dam. I had less than five minutes to make it over the bridge before the water hit, maybe less. I had to make a choice, so I came here.” He paused to take a drink. “It was less. When I crossed the bridge, the water was rising, and fast. I don’t know if the bridge is still there – I never looked back.”

  The three of us stopped eating.

  “Are you alright though, Jim? Did you get burned or anything?” Mark asked, concerned.

  “No, I’m not hurt, though I think my tires are shot. Rubber doesn’t stand up well to burning asphalt. I think some fresh air will help clear the smoke I inhaled.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Jim,” I said. “Your command and counsel to your men will be greatly missed by them, but at the same time, their loss is our gain. I’m so pleased to have you join us.”

  “Well, thank you, Allexa. If I had to be stranded, I couldn’t have picked a better group to spend my life with.” We all raised a glass. “The group going to Sault St. Marie has some good leaders; they will be fine.” He helped himself to another slice of bread.

  The four of us took a walk down to the end of my road as dusk settled fully in. In the distance we could see the crimson sky over Marquette. The darker the night became, the redder the sky. It was a very sobering reminder of our new and complete isolation.

  “I think you should take this case of Gray Goose with you, Jim,” Mark suggested when Jim and Tom got ready to leave.

  “Thanks, I think I will,” Jim replied. “I’ll stay the night at Tom’s new barracks, and find something else tomorrow. It’s been a long day and I’m exhausted. Thank you again for the dinner, Allex, it was great.”

  CHAPTER 30

  October 26

  When we arrived at the township office at nine o’clock, the place was in chaos.

  “What’s the matter with you people?” Jim Andrews bellowed, barely heard above the roar of the crowd.

  Mark parked the car across the road at the clinic and we waited. With all the yelling going on, I couldn’t hear what this group was so upset about.

  “We need to get over there, Mark!” I said, and started to leave. Mark grabbed my arm to stop me.

  “Let’s wait a minute or two. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  While we waited a safe distance away, I could see Eric, Rayn, and Frank at the front door, rifles at the ready. How did this happen? Yesterday all was quiet.

  I saw the group of five making their way toward the front of the crowd. The priest and his nuns!

  “Come on, Mark, I think someone is about to get hurt,” I said and bolted across the road. Eric saw us coming and fired a shot well over the heads of the crowd. That gave us enough time to make it through the mass of angry people and reach the doors.

  A moment later that arrogant young man that had called me a cougar went nose to nose with the priest.

  “You pussy, get out of my way!” he sneered at Father Constantine, who calmly smiled back at him.

  “You’re a very troubled young man,” the priest said. “These good people are only trying to help us. What is your complaint this morning?”

  “There’s no food and we’re all hungry!” he shouted. “We were supposed to be fed last night and we weren’t! Nobody brought us anything over at that rat trap they’re making us stay in!” Which got several affirmative yells from the crowd.

  “You were supposed to go to the Inn on your own for dinner. It’s only a short walk,” I remarked.

  “Shut up, bitch!” he screamed at me.

  Father Constantine stepped up to the young man and told him to apologize to me.

  “You gonna make me, pussy?”

  Father Constantine smiled. “If need be, yes.”

  “Well, well, maybe you got some balls after all, padre. Let’s go a round, see how you feel with a few loose te
eth!”

  The crowd backed up, creating a circle.

  I could hear the nuns behind me, whispering to each other. “Oh, I don’t think he wants to do that,” Sister Agnes was saying.

  “Can you stop him?” I asked Sister Agnes. “I don’t want to see the Father hurt.”

  Sister Lynn started giggling again. “Don’t worry about Father Constantine; you need to pray for that poor boy!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Father Constantine not only was a champion boxer in college, he grew up on the south side of Chicago, and is very street smart,” Sister Doris said matter-of-factly. “That young man picked the wrong guy to challenge and is about to get his butt kicked.”

  Someone standing close to us heard the conversation. “I’ll still lay odds on Marlow. He learned to fight on the inside.”

  “Who?” I asked, alarmed.

  “Kenny Marlow,” the guy repeated. “His uncle was some big shot general until he was railroaded or something.”

  I know I paled.

  Father Constantine walked over to the nuns and handed Sister Agnes his collar. “Will you hold this for me please?” He turned in time to duck a sucker punch from Marlow, and the fight was on.

  It was impressive to watch this young priest fight. He avoided all of Kenny’s punches, making the punk angrier as he landed hit after hit. He finally ended it with a well-placed uppercut, sending Marlow to the pavement.

  Father Constantine reached down and grabbed a fist full of shirt, hauling Kenny to his feet.

  “Now, apologize to the nice lady.”

  ~~~

  The crowd settled down after that, and we were finally able to understand the problem. It seemed that Kenny Marlow had been the instigator all along, insisting that someone was supposed to bring them meals, even though everyone had been told otherwise. The group left as one and walked down to the Inn for breakfast, with instructions to return for housing assignments.