by Joel Shaw
"My name is Harold Cooke, this is my son Leland Cooke and this gentleman on my left is Milton Webber."
The Captain nodded, not bothering to record their names. I'm going to cut you gentleman some slack given the current circumstances. But, when I return, you WILL present your ID cards to me or you will be detained. Clear?"
"Clear," the threesome mumbled in unison.
"Next question. What are you gentleman doing here?"
Milton and Leland looked at Harold who fished for words that would project some authority on his part. "I am the manager of this preserve. These two men were in my employ at this park until St. Cloud went bankrupt. We live in that," he pointed at the machine shed, "facility over there."
“Zeek. Peters. Go check out that building. Confiscate any weapons you find. Get back here, double time.” The two soldiers jogged in the direction of the shed. The captain turned back to the threesome, whom were clearly irritated.
"Just a precaution, gentleman. We have had some incidents in the past with locals. Now, let me tell you what will happen next."
He was handed a rumpled sheet of paper. “Now gentlemen, as a formality I am going to read a document given to me by the Governor of Minnesota's office.”
"This letter is to inform you that the Minnesota State Governor’s Office has declared a Water Emergency - Red Alert. Pursuant to clause 182.33 of the 2030 Water Rationing Act, only Registered United States Residents with valid National Identification Cards shall be issued individual Federal Water Credit Cards for the purposes of obtaining potable water for personal and household use. Pursuant to clause 182.34 of the 2030 Water Rationing Act, Water Credit Cards will receive a monthly credit based on the United States Resident Birth Day indicated on the individuals Federal Identification Card. Pursuant to clause 186.7 of the 2030 Water Rationing Act the amount of water allotted for daily individual use is based on information provided by The United States Department of Health and Human Services’s recommendation of Six (6) U.S. Gallons per day.
Pursuant to clause 187.8 of the 2030 Water Rationing Act the monthly credit will be based on the number of days in said calendar month."
He handed the paper back to the soldier and continued.
“Now, let me anticipate your next question. Yes, you can continue to draw water from the quarry until such time as private contractors arrive. At that time, you will no longer be allowed access to the reservoirs.”
“Where will we get our water from, then?” Leland interrupted. He never imagined that something like this would happen. He had ignored the conspiracy theories that Milton espoused daily. He was offended and mad. He did't wait for an answer. “Are you going to just let us die of thirst?” His voice was shaking, unsteady.
"Calm down son. I don't think you were listening." Hanson took a step toward Leland.
"I'm not your son, mister." Leland stepped forward. His advance was mirrored by two soldiers. Harold jerked Leland's sleeve, causing him to backup a step.
A smirk flashed across Roland's face as he continued.“The Water Rationing Act provides for a daily water ration. The daily ration will be drawn from a Federal Water Dispenser or FWD. Phase one of the construction includes one FWD to be constructed near the main gate of the facility to provide authorized persons access to daily water rations which, as I have already stated, is six gallons per person per day. Do you understand that, son?”
Harold's grip tightened on Leland's arm; Leland stood mute.
“Authorized persons are those who have in their possession a Federal Water Credit Card or FWCC. In order to obtain a FWCC you must have in your possession a Federal Identification Card or FIC. Are you beginning to understand the importance of the ID cards, gentlemen?"
The three nodded, shuffling their cold feet.
“Can we still live there?” Milton was pointing at the machined shed.
" As far as I can tell, your ahhh...house is outside the proposed perimeter of the facility. If the surveyors determine that your house is within the proposed boundary of the facility, you will have to vacate the premises."
“Is that a fact.” Leland spit.
"I understand that you are upset. If you cooperate with us, I'm sure we can maintain a civil relationship. We'll be here a long time gentlemen. The sooner you get used to that idea, the better off you'll be."
The two soldiers sent to search the shed had returned and were waiting for the Captain to finish. One was carrying the .22 caliber rifle.
“The building is clear, sir. This is the only weapon we found. There is some machinery in there that you may want to procure during the construction phase.”
The captain nodded. “I’ll make a note. We'll leave that up to the GC.”
Another soldier spoke in earnest. "Sir, the men are getting pretty cold sir."
“Roger that Sargent.” Roland turned his attention to the three men.
“I’m afraid I'll have to keep the rifle. New regulations prohibit the possession of firearms by civilians.”
“I’d like to see that in writing." Leland demanded. "I use that to hunt for our food. What the hell am I supposed to use, now?”
“Not my problem, son.” Hanson grinned at Leland. “OK gentleman, that's it for now. We'll be seeing you soon. Thanks for your cooperation.”
"How soon?" Harold asked.
"As soon as we get back sir. Good luck." Hanson saluted sloppily then returned to the large helicopter followed by his men. The door closed behind them. The pilot motioned Milton, Leland and Harold to move away and they did so under a hail of dirt, leaves and sticks stirred by the enormous rotating blades. Captain Roland Hanson waved at the men through a small window as the black helicopters turned to the east and disappeared.
#
"Let's get back inside, I'm freezing." Milton hurried toward the shed. Leland and Harold were close behind.
Milton threw several more paperbacks into the dwindling fire as they huddled in silence around the stove for several minutes. As they warmed, the words began to flow.
"That was different." Harold, tried to make light of the situation. “You guys know where your ID cards are?"
“I told you, man. I told you the Water Police would come some day. Was I right or what?”
“You were right, Milton. I should have listened to you.” Harold said.
"Fuck those guys." Leland said. "I'm going to get my 30-06 from Faye's house and blow his ass away when he returns."
"Settle down Lee, I mean it,” Harold said with unusual force.
Milton’s thoughts were racing. "Did you catch a whiff of the captain's breath? It smelled like alcohol. Another thing. I saw the helicopter pilot folding a map. Why would he putting the map away? Think about that for a minute. They found what they were looking for, that’s why. Who told them about the quarries? And how do they know that quarries one and two and three hold the most water. They weren't searching. The flew here straight-away as though they knew what was here. Something ain't right about that bunch.”
“You’ve got a good point, Milton. What is the range of those helicopters? Do you know?”
“No, I don't, but I'm sure as hell going to find out. Another thing, I studied the ID the Captain showed us. It looked kind of rough, homemade, you know what I mean. Like it was printed with a printer that was running out of ink. Maybe it's my imagination, but I don't think it was the real deal.”
"I agree with Milton. Those guys may be well trained and all, but they did not behave like professional soldiers. Check this out over here." Leland gestured toward the small mirror on the wall. One of the men that searched their home had scrawled with black marker "Fuck You Faggots" across it and then in a different hand below it, "See You Soon BITCHES.”
"I'm going to town to talk to Faye. We should let her know what happened out here today. You guys want to come with?"
"I'll come with you, Dad. I need that rifle."
"I'm going to the library,” Milton said. “I’m going to do a bit of research. I'll see you back her
e tonight."
Leland was about to stir the stew in the pot.”Shit! Look at this," he exclaimed. "It looks like those guys pissed in our stew pot. Look at this dribble on the table and here on the floor. That’s urine. Those Mother Fuckers."
Harold watched as his son picked up the pot and carried it outside kicking and slamming everything in his path, tossing the pot and it's contents across the parking lot. He didn't know what to say. It was becoming clear that this event could be the beginning of a nightmare. He picked a couple of pieces of oak from the wood pile and stacked them in the stove, adjusting the damper slightly as he spoke to Milton. "Talk to Leland when you have a chance, Milt. Try to assure him that violence is not the way to deal with this situation."
“I’ll see what I can do, HC. You heading to Fayes’ now?”
“Yeah, we’ll be back after dark. Leave the lights on.” Harold grinned at his own feeble joke.
Milton didn't respond. He was digging through his foot locker, searching for the Colt .45.
#
Faye looked through the peep hole in her back door to see who was frantically pounding on it. She could clearly see the two well bundled men standing on her porch. She slid the two six-inch barrel bolts out of the door jamb and swung the heavy steel door open far enough for Harold and Leland to slip in. "You two look worried," she said as she secured the door. “What’s up?”
"Fucking army showed up at our place." Leland blurted. "They took my rifle and pissed in our stew."
"Whoa, slow down Lee." Faye held up here mittened hands. "Start from the beginning. Here...” she pulled a couple stools from under a table toward the wood-burning oven. “...sit. I'll pour you some coffee. I have some cornbread in the oven. It'll be done in about fifteen minutes."
The two men hung their coats on the hooks by the door and took a seat by the hot oven. The smell of baking cornbread filled the kitchen.”
Leland relaxed a little, filling his lungs with the wonderful aromas.
"That really hits the spot," Harold said, setting the mug of steaming coffee top on the oven. "Thanks."
"OK, tell me what happened." Faye sat back in her favorite rocker that she had positioned near the oven and prepared herself for the story.
Harold relayed the morning't events, concluding with their suspicions regarding the credentials of the invaders.
"We'll see what happens when they return." Harold said, taking the last sip of coffee from the mug. Something just occurred to me. The said they were going to fence in three quarries. Apparently they don't know that number three is empty. Their information is not exactly up to date. But they could see that from the air, couldn’t they?”
Faye looked at Leland while listening to his father's report, fidgeting with the bolt of the 30-06 that he had retrieved from her gun safe. What’s on your mind, Leland?”
"I think they're going to find...” He stopped himself and blushed. He had almost mentioned quarry number eight. Goddamn his dad for keeping Faye in the dark about the covered quarry. He began again.
"I think they will do exactly what the said they are going to do. How they are going to do it, I have no idea. There is no fuel or electricity in this town. No building materials, either.”
"They'll bring whatever they need with them." Harold said. “They must have the resources to do anything they want to do. If they have aviation fuel for helicopters, they have diesel fuel for construction equipment." Harold paused for a moment. "What has me puzzled is how did they pinpoint the location of the quarries? I mean, what led them to the quarries? Our quarries? This is a pretty remote location, all things considered. Seriously, I didn't think anyone but locals would ever come looking for water in the park. Someone must have told them that there was water in the quarries.”
“Very valuable water.” Faye added. "I've been doing some reading on the topic..."
"What the hell? Is that all anybody is doing anymore? Reading? Don't you think there are more important things to do right now?" Leland was tiring of the chatting. He wanted to do something.
Faye looked at Leland with a puzzled expression."What is your problem today? I've never seen you so upset." Faye rocked forward and touched Leland's hand.
"We're going to get through this, Lee." Faye’s voice was comforting. Harold loved the sound of Faye’s voice.
"That's what I keep telling him," Harold interjected. "I think he's looking for a fight. You know, he's invincible at his age."
Leland scowled at his father. "Don't patronize me dad. This is our town. We should protect it."
Faye sighed. She knew they wouldn't have to look for a fight. The fight would come to them. "Anyway, as I was saying, I've been doing some reading on the topic of water at the library,” she winked at Leland, “and...”
Harold interrupted."Excuse me for a second, Faye."
"Wow, you guys are really wound up. I can't even finish my sentences. Yes, Harold. What is it."
"Sorry, Faye. I'm just curious because Milton has been spending a lot of time at the library, then bringing home books to burn in the stove. Are there any books left on the shelves?
“Burning books! What books? Who told him he could burn library books? I’m sure Beth doesn’t know about that. Jesus Christ...I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it Faye. But I don’t think you have to worry about the literary value of our fuel. I’ve looked at the books. All paperback romance novels and I don’t think he is taking them from the library. I think he’s taking them from abandoned homes. He gets around a lot after dark.”
“Well...I’m going to make damn sure he is NOT taking books from the library next time I see him...Now, where was I? Right...the value of water. The value of water...shit. Sorry. I lost my train of thought...damn it. She sighed again. "Never mind we'll talk about it some other time. You two have gotten me worked up as well."
“Wait,” Harold said. “Let’s get back to the library. What’s going on?”
Faye laughed. "Are you going to let me finish? If not, I won't say another word."
They all laughed this time. It was good to talk openly about what was going on in the small town. Things were constantly changing. Few kept up with the events. Faye felt it her duty to stay informed.
"Well, it's a curious thing. A lot of the people who stayed in town are using the library.Beth Westerbrooke, the retired librarian, still had her keys. That's another amazing thing, no one had broken into the library.”
“Can’t eat books,” Leland interjected.
“Thank you for clearing that up, Lee...Anyway, it’s business as usual. She is checking books out and in, and, get this, people are actually cooperating with her and some have volunteered to help re-shelve the books when they are returned. She has the whole place staffed with volunteers. Too many volunteers sometimes. She thinks the renewed interest in books is due to the lack of internet, radio, and television. I'm sure she's right about that.
She even has a security guard. He's a young native american named Jerry Goodthunder. Nice name,huh? He's about 19 and in terrific shape. He lives in a small office on the ground floor. He opens the doors at sunup and closes them at sundown. Nice, huh? Oh, and another thing, I saw Walter Bohem in there yesterday. Do you remember him? He used to be the football coach at Apollo High School.”
"I remember him. He is an asshole of the first degree," Leland said. “I don’t think he can read...probably just looking at pictures of himself in old year books.”
“Beth pointed him out. She thought it was odd that he would be spending any time at the library. She told me that when he was on the city board, he tried repeatedly to cut library funding. But there he was spending hours in the reference section studying maps; old maps. Oh yeah, now I remember what I was going to say. There haven't been any new books delivered to the library since...”
"Twenty years ago.” Harold completed the thought. “which means everything in the library is outdated.”
“Except maps...”Leland’s comment went unheard.
&
nbsp; “What else did Beth say about Bohem?”
“Does she know which maps he was studying?”
“I have no idea. Maps, though. You think that’s odd?
“Not necessarily,” Harold dismissed the maps as inconsequential. “By the way, do you know where your Federal Identification Card is?"
"Sure, it's in my safe."
Harold laughed. “Women.”
"What's so funny? He explained the conversation about ID cards with Captain Hanson and she laughed with them.
"Men." She continued to laugh while looking at Harold who had been watching her with renewed interest. She held his gaze for several moments.
"Should I leave the room?" Leland asked, for the first time aware of the changing nature of the relationship between his father and Faye. It’s about time, he thought.
There was another long, awkward silence. There they were, three lonesome souls listening to their inner voices; voices from the heart, and doing their best to ignore them.
"Damn. My cornbread is burning. You guys really have me messed up.” Faye quickly removed the too brown bread from the oven, setting it aside to cool. The three smiled at one another and for a moment the world was not such a bad place to live.
"Anyway, you should get to know Jerry, Leland. He is a little younger than you but seems to be mature for his age. I think you'll hit it off, especially given your common heritage."
"Sounds good to me. I sure could use a friend right now."
"Hey, wait a minute..." Faye feigned injury.
"You know what I mean..."
"Yes, Leland. We know what you mean." Harold said. "You run along, now." He stopped. "Sorry son, I'm still getting used to the fact that your are a man. I have something to talk to Faye about in private. Would you excuse us, please."
Leland looked at his father. He hoped that he was going to reveal the existence of the covered quarry to Faye. If he didn't, Leland was determined to break the news himself. In the meantime he had some detective work to do.
"Alright, I'll see you two lovebirds later." He made a rapid exit without further comment.
Faye sighed as she watched Leland go then turned to Harold.