Survivors

by Rich Goldhaber

  “Well, all of us can certainly use some spiritual assistance,” I said.

  Paul then asked for a favor, “I’d like your permission to set up a church here.” My father had warned me never to discuss sex, politics, or religion with friends, because it always leads to trouble, and yet Paul certainly deserved an answer. Everyone was looking at me, waiting for me to speak. “Paul. Given the odds, you may very well be the only religious leader who has survived, at least in our area. Take a look around. I’m not an expert on demographics, but I’m guessing we have a very diverse group of people here. We probably have people who represent every religion, and we may also have some agnostics or atheists.

  “So the challenge is how to meet the spiritual needs of our community in a way that meets all of our resident’s needs. It can’t be called a church, or a synagogue, or a mosque; just a religious center, and when you conduct a service, it has to be non-offensive to all our residents.”

  Reverend Wooden thought about my proposal. I could tell he was going through a very personal internal conflict. His struggle dragged on for over a minute; I could see it in his eyes; but none of us spoke.

  Finally he said, “Jim, what you’ve proposed makes a great deal of sense given our present status, but my religious education is making it difficult to accept. Your logic, however, is irrefutable. In my heart, I know you’re right; I’m going to have to administer to the spiritual needs of the entire community, not just to those of my own faith. I’ll give it a try.”

  Jessie asked, “What shall we call you? What’s your title?” Paul Wooden answered, “In keeping with my new mission, I think it would be appropriate if I was considered a chaplain, but actually I just prefer to be called Paul.”

  “Well Paul, let us know how we can help you get started.” The four of us were alone now. We refilled our coffee cups and got down to the business of our nightly meeting. “I’ve got a couple of things to discuss. First, let’s talk about the upcoming election. I think the four of us should put in our applications. For whatever the reason, we seem to be the ones people think are in charge, and I think we make a good leadership team. Also, I think we should ask Manny Garcia to join our team. We’re going to need the help of the people from Immokalee, and his being on the Board of Governors will send a strong message to everyone living here.”

  George had a pained look on his face. “I think he would be a wise choice, but I’m worried some people here won’t like it.”

  “I know George, but here’s our chance at becoming a society where everyone really is treated equal. I don’t want to pass up this opportunity.”

  Bill and Jessie were on board, and we agreed I would talk to Manny when he arrived in the morning.

  “Next subject, let’s spend the day tomorrow working on plans to get frozen food from the Publix Replenishment Center and solar cell technology from the supplier of Opti-Solar’s solar cells; and I guess we can add stealing Verizon’s server to the list.”

  Jessie said, “We’re going to have to find a lot of refrigerator trucks. Stan’s our best scrounger. We should send him out tomorrow with a goal of finding a couple dozen trucks with refrigeration.”

  “I’ll talk to him tonight,” I said. “One final topic; we’ve been attacked by a bear, and Beth told me one of the persons helping her was attacked by wild dogs. I’m thinking as much as I hate guns, we need to have some around to protect the community. What do you guys think?”

  Jessie said: “Guns, guns, guns; here we go again; we can’t live with them, and we can’t live without them. You’re right of course.”

  Bill asked, “So will we issue permits or does everybody who wants one gets one?” George said, “Here’s the thing, anyone who wants a gun can break into a gun store and steal one, and we’ll never know about it. That’s just the reality of the situation.”

  “George is right.” I said, “So instead of preventing, let’s just control the storage and use of the guns. Let’s enforce some common-sense rules.”

  “What kind of rules?” Jessie asked. I answered, “For example, people scavenging for things should never go out alone, and one of the persons should always carry a gun. And all guns need to be locked up and away from the children when they’re not being used. Why don’t we appoint a small working group to help us set up the rules? We can set the objectives, and then they can make recommendations.”

  Jessie answered, “I think you’re asking for the impossible. I doubt they’ll ever be able to agree, but we can give it a try; and I think Patty as our lawyer should head up the group.”

  Bill changed the subject. “We’re going to have to send a solar array team with Barbara tomorrow. We’re going to need to give her power and also set up a power supply for the dairy processing plant she uses to pasteurize the milk and make the other dairy products. I’ve got some new people from Marco Island who can manage the projects. One of them is a mechanical engineer, and he knows exactly what needs to be done.”

  With no further items on anyone’s agenda, our meeting broke up. Jessie and I walked over to the table Barbara was using to talk about her dairy farm. There were two women there looking at the pictures and asking questions. Barbara was a natural at selling the wonders of life on the farm. At the end of their discussion the two women signed their names on a list of about a dozen volunteers.

  I smiled at Barbara, “It looks like you’re one hell of a saleslady. How are you going to select your staff?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. We’re going to need some men to do some of the heavy work, but all men would be a bad idea, so I’m thinking a total of six people, half men, and half women. I’ve got enough bedrooms to take care of everyone. I’ll pick the middle-aged people. They probably know how to work together.”

  Barbara circled six names and left to inform them of her decision. Jessie said, “She’s one strong and determined lady. She’ll make it work.”

  I decided to call it a night, and I hit the sack as soon as I closed the door to my apartment. I couldn’t understand why, but I fell asleep almost immediately.

  Chapter 19

  Manny and the other Immokalee survivors arrived early in the morning in a convoy with one truck filled with fresh produce. I watched with fascination at the welcome our residents provided. The vast majority ran up to the convoy and greeted the Immokalee men and women with open arms. They guided them over to see Margaret and register at her makeshift desk. A few of our residents stood back with frowning faces and just observed. I made it a point to remember their faces. I would have to pay special attention to these people in the future.

  As Beth supervised the unloading of the fresh produce, I walked up to Manny and gave him a welcoming hug. I asked him to join me for a cup of coffee in my apartment. One of the residents had given me one of those fancy espresso machines he had taken from Costco, and after preparing two coffees, Manny and I sat down at my small kitchen table. “Manny, I would like to ask a favor of you, something many of us believe is very important. Tomorrow our community will be holding elections for the Board of Governors who will lead our community for the next year. There will be five residents serving on the Board, and I would like you to file an application so you can be on our leadership team.”

  Manny was shocked to say the least. “Jim the people here don’t know me, why would they vote for me?”

  “Manny, a number of us will stand up and speak on your behalf at our town meeting. Remember yesterday I spoke about the importance of starting a new life. It is critical everyone is truly a part of our new community. I’ve said it too many times; we’re all in this together; and that really does mean all of us.”

  Manny thought about my proposal. “Jim, yesterday I thought what you said was just words, but I can see you’re ready to back up your words with deeds. I have to get used to this new world, but I’m ready to help out in any way I can, and if running for the Board of Governors will help the community, then I’ll do it.”

  “Good,” I said, “Let’s both go
outside to register. We need to get our applications in by tonight.”

  Margaret was keeping the signup list of applicants. Manny and I both signed and printed our names on the sheet. In addition to Jessie, George, and Bill, there was one additional applicant. I didn’t recognize his name and I couldn’t place the face. Margaret said he was a young man from Cape Coral in his late twenties, and she didn’t like him. He was too arrogant when he registered.

  Manny registered with Margaret, and was told to pick an apartment in Building G. Margaret suggested one on the third floor overlooking the lake. Manny thanked her and left to get some of his belongings from his car.

  Bill and George were reviewing work assignments with their people and Jessie was helping some of the Immokalee people carry produce into Beth’s kitchens. A few cars and one U-Haul truck left to start up Barbara’s dairy farm. All of the future farmers of America were excited about their new jobs. I waved to them as they got into their cars and drove away.

  The four of us finally met in front of Margaret’s desk. “Let’s take a trip over to the Bass Pro Shop in the Gulf Coast shopping mall. We might as well collect all their guns and ammunition. We can keep them locked in my apartment.

  It took only a few minutes to break into the store. We were getting to be experts at breaking and entering. Bill seemed to know his way around the place, and after one hour, we had cleaned the store out of guns, accessories, and ammunition.

  Jessie disappeared and I eventually found her in the archery department. She had taken possession of a modern compound bow, and was pushing two carts, one filled with arrows and quivers, and the second holding a round practice target and an assortment of other bows. “I think I’m going to be like Katniss in The Hunger Games,” she said.

  We loaded up our U-Haul truck and closed the back door. We decided to transfer the weapons after everyone was asleep. Back at the campus, we agreed to meet in my place after lunch. I found Patty in her apartment. She was planning the election we would hold tomorrow. After I explained the problem, she agreed to chair a committee to recommend rules for guns and other weapons.

  Patty and I both walked to the dining area. Beth and her staff had baked some fresh bread. The lunch consisted of tuna salad or pasta and a variety of fresh fruits and vegetables. I cut two slices of bread and made a tuna salad sandwich with a slice of tomato and some lettuce. As I looked around, everyone having lunch was certainly enjoying the fresh produce.

  The afternoon was spent in extensive meetings. Josh presented his plan for raiding the Publix Replenishment Center. Isaac had put together a plan for getting the Verizon server, and George and Bill had developed a fairly complete proposal for collecting the photovoltaic cell supplier’s equipment.

  When we put the three plans together, we were going to need a total of six refrigeration trucks and three moving vans to collect the other equipment. Stan reported he had been able to locate all the necessary refrigeration trucks, but only two drivers had any experience in driving the large vehicles. It would take a day to shuttle all the trucks to the campus, and Stan would need several hours to train each of the drivers in the basics of how to handle the sixteen-wheelers.

  We took a break from our meetings and I walked out to the parking lot to see what was going on. Beth and Manny were sitting at Margaret’s table taking orders for the kinds of fruits and vegetables our residents liked to eat. A small group was gathered there debating the merits of various produce. I just listened in and enjoyed the discussion.

  I heard the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle enter the parking lot. Suddenly Rebecca was running toward the young man riding the bike. They hugged and kissed, and she refused to let go of him.

  He finally got off his bike, and as the two held hands, he began to talk to Rebecca. I waited patiently to give them some privacy, and when they were done talking, Rebecca, who was crying, led the young man to where I was standing.

  “This is Ralph Becker,” she said. “He’s my boyfriend from up north. He says my mom and dad are dead, and before they died, he promised to come find me.”

  I introduced myself to Ralph. He had driven his motorcycle down from Indianapolis, and he had run into problems along the way. I immediately convened an emergency meeting of our unofficial leadership team and asked Manny to join us.

  Ralph and Rebecca joined us behind my apartment, and I asked Ralph to describe his trip in detail. He finished drinking a bottle of water and then began his story.

  “I left Indianapolis three days ago. Most of the survivors had already left. There were dead bodies everywhere, and the smell was horrific. My parents and two sisters died four weeks ago. I stayed with Rebecca’s mom until she died.

  Around Macon, Georgia I ran into a group of men and women blocking the road with their cars. I didn’t think much of it, but they were all drunk or high on drugs. They asked me if I wanted to join their group. They could see I wasn’t carrying anything of value except for my motorcycle. It took me about a minute to realize they were up to no good. One of the guys pulled a gun; I knew I had to get out of there right away.

  “I was still sitting on my motorcycle, but I kicked the gun out of his hand. I started my bike and drove around the blockade before they could react. They chased after me in their cars for a couple of miles, but when I left the road, they couldn’t follow me through a wooded area.

  “I hid out in those woods until nightfall. After that, I stayed off the main roads with my headlight off. I reached a crest in the road and saw a lot of headlights up ahead. I hid my bike by the side of the road and walked toward the lights. There was a small town there, and the lights were coming from a grouping of cars.

  “It was a terrible scene. Some guys had found some women, and they were dragging them out of houses and forcing them into their cars. An older man tried to help them, and they shot him, and then they all left in their cars and headed north.

  “I walked into the town, and the old man was already dead. You remember that movie Mad Max. It was sort of like that. I waited a couple of hours until I was sure the road was clear.”

  I interrupted, “Where did all this happen?” “About fifty miles southeast of Macon. From then on I was very careful. I only drove at night and without headlights. I found a map at a gas station, and I only took the side roads.”

  Rebecca was clutching his hand and drawing him close to her. I said, “Thanks for the information Ralph, and welcome to our community. Rebecca, make sure he registers with Margaret, and then please show him around the campus.”

  The two left arm in arm.

  Jessie said, “We’re in deep shit. One of these days that group is going to show up here.” Our meeting adjourned, and I walked back outside looking for a diversion from Ralph’s tale of woe.

  Some of the men helping Beth had found a large party tent from somewhere and were trying to erect it in the parking lot near the beach. They said this would become the new dining area, and it would be protected from the rain. I spent an hour helping them set up the tent and pound the stakes into the asphalt.

  Blaine had flown his airplane over to the Everglades Indian Reservation early in the morning looking for survivors. I heard his plane land, and after the engine stopped, he jumped out along with a boy and a girl and reported to me. “I found them at the reservation. They said they were the only ones who survived. They’re too young to drive over, so I decided to fly them here in the plane.

  Both kids looked like they were still in shock. I knelt down on the parking lot and introduced myself. The girl was twelve, and her name was Jasmine. The boy was eight, and his name was Hunter. Jessie came over and introduced herself and immediately put both of them at ease. Jasmine reminded me of my own daughter Sarah, and I told Margaret they would both be staying with me. The three of us walked to my apartment and we arranged a room for each of them.

  At dinner, Patty announced the applicants for the five positions. I finally had a chance to see the guy from Cape Coral who was running. I recognized him; he was one
of the people who wasn’t too pleased with the arrival of the Immokalee survivors. I hadn’t seen him working on any of the crews and wondered how he was spending his days.

  Patty announced the final rules. “Everyone wanting to vote must attend the town meeting scheduled for one o’clock tomorrow afternoon. Each person running for office will have no more than ten minutes to talk to the community about their plans if they were elected to office or anything else they would like to discuss. After the candidates speak, I will allow ten minutes for anyone in the community who wishes to speak on behalf of any of the candidates.

  “After everyone in the community has had a chance to speak, we will hold the election. I have prepared ballots. Each person will choose a maximum of five candidates. Residents will form a line and Margaret will check off their names to ensure each person eligible to vote gets only one vote. They will be handed a ballot and then proceed to the voting table. They will mark their ballots and place the ballots in the box provided. Beth, Margaret, and I will then count the ballots and present the results of the election immediately.”

  Patty then smiled, “After the names of the winners are announced, we will celebrate our first free election by opening bottles of champagne, and toasting the victors. I hope this can become a yearly tradition. Are there any questions?”

  There weren’t any questions, but then again the rules were pretty simple. The two survivors from the Indian Reservation sat at our table. Beth and the staff had prepared several choices of baked fish and once again a selection of fresh fruits and vegetables. I looked at the two kids and suddenly had a thought. I called Janet over to our table.

  “Janet, don’t you think it’s about time the children’s vacation is over? When will school start?”