“Bye, Nat.”
“Bye, Thaw.”
“And, hey, Nat…I still love ya’.” He heard the receiver click off. No telling if she heard him or not.
3. April 2020: Overrun
Over a period of two days the trains continuously dropped off displaced persons. Within four days all emergency shelters in Ellensville and Lochlee were full. Meantime, neither Ellensville nor Lochlee was ready for the number of cars that were flooding the area as people searched for safe harbors for their families and tried their luck further and further north, away from Magdum Heights, until, eventually, the most displaced reached Ellensville. With each car came a plea. Do you have a place for me? Could you take in my wife and daughter? Have you room for me and my family? We don’t care. We can sleep on the floor. Any place is better than the car. A tent with a sleeping bag or two? That ice shanty in your yard? By contrast, the passengers who descended from the trains, while they did not exacerbate the parking problem, increased the emergency sheltering challenges and would have been happy to have had a car for shelter! Within a few days the schools had to be turned into shelters for the seemingly endless stream of refugees. And by the end of the first week even they were filled to capacity.
Martha took upon herself the task of greeter at the morning and evening trains coming north. Initially each train brought not more than twenty people each. But by the third day, after a system had been organized in the more southern states to permit people in need of transportation to get to the train stations for travel west and north of the burned out areas around Magdum Heights, the trickle turned into a gusher, with some cars arriving nearly full.
At the third of what quickly became nightly town meetings called for the purpose of information exchange and strategy and rule setting, Martha reported that on that day each engine brought between one hundred and twenty and one hundred and fifty displaced persons, or Newcomers as some of the villagers had taken to calling them.
“But what I noticed is that while many stayed with us, others among them got off the train, looked around, sized up the crowd, and re-embarked, apparently hoping that further north the tracks would take them to an area less crowded. So what I propose is that we make some effort to control the size and speed of the incoming emigration.”
The seventy-five or so people at the meeting listened attentively to Martha, appreciating her as a calm and reliable idea source.
Larry, the Town Council Chair, responded. “How do you propose we do that?”
“Well, as it looks as if we’re not likely to receive any outside help any time soon. I suggest we inform the Northern Line that we will be limiting the number of people who can descend to a given number and they need to have their conductors prepare the passengers for that fact. We could draft a strategy paper and fax it out tonight. Then come morning, say we permit twenty-five to descend. They can either decide among themselves who will descend or we will permit off the train just the first twenty-five. That would give us fifty a day to accommodate, already more than we really can, but definitely better than two hundred.”
Larry responded positively to the idea but asked what was to happen if fifty decided to descend.
Martha sat and Natalie rose to speak. “Martha and I have been discussing this as a potential problem and I believe our lack of a police force needs to be addressed. I propose we deputize twenty reliable hunters, preferably ones with military training, dress them in a readily identifiable outfit, and have a few of them line up with guns in hand along the platform as each train arrives.”
“Well, that certainly is an idea worth considering,” Larry responded. Then he thought a bit. “But we’ll treat that as a separate proposal.”
Martha spoke again. “But I think those deputized should not be the greeters. I think we need to have non-threatening, reasonable people explain the situation to those wishing to descend and depending on how many doors we have to greet at, we just quickly divide the number welcome among the doors and let that many off.”
An older man spoke from his seat in the back of the room. “Suppose there are four doors and you divide twenty-five by four and get six in three doors and seven in the fourth. How will you know which number to apply?”
Martha had remained standing. “I’ve thought of that. My thought is that perhaps we should round off the numbers. People should be welcomed in family groups. Sometimes the greeter might permit one above or one below the number aimed for at each door. Like a family of three, one of two, and another of two giving seven or a family of five and no others if there are no couples or singles to round it off. The platform is not that large. We could each have a manila folder and hold up the number we would like to permit to descend. A runner could determine the tally and tell us when the maximum number permitted is reached. In special circumstances we might accept up to three fewer or more.”
A young woman with a child on her arm rose and spoke. “But when is it going to stop? Do we just wait and see? Do we limit the total number to be accepted? Those of us with children are very worried.”
Martha addressed the woman. “I don’t know what’s reasonable, Josette. I’m worried, too. But these are unreasonable times.” She paused, then continued. “Suppose, however, we were willing to double the size of our population? It sounds insane, but I don’t know if we will have any choice. Every day the cars bring new families. How will we stop them? If we could? Isn’t it better to just accept as many as we can and hope for the best? I think if we are pro-active and help a certain number settle in, we will all be safer. I don’t see a choice.” Martha sat and the woman followed suit.
The Council had moved to a style of assessing identified problems, quickly listening to statements on them from those attending the open meeting, and limiting the time for discussion and debate for each topic. When the open meeting ended, usually around half past eight, the Council went into closed session. In that meeting, given the reality and enormity of the problems they faced and their interest in conserving energy, they would then quickly approve some stop gap measures, some of which, with success, would become permanent partial solutions. Ad hoc committee chairs would be appointed and skeleton support staff rounded up as newly identified problems or solutions were suggested. Ongoing committees gave brief updates and solicited direction and help as needed. Membership on committees overlapped, and as with all democratic processes, the workload fell more heavily on some than on others. That night the meeting lasted until eleven-thirty.
Despite the close conditions, the crew at Lem’s got on quite well. Thaw, Lem and Natalie and at times Natalie’s sister helped in the community. Among them, they foraged for themselves and their guests as was necessary, agreeing that it was better to travel with a full car and to shop as infrequently as possible so as to use the shopping market lot as little as possible. As well as saving on gas, which was scarce, being in a group gave them all an increased sense of safety, surrounded as they were by so many Newcomers, most of whom were homeless.
The weather held. The skies remained clear and the temperatures remained in the sixties and seventies. One day in the middle of the third week, Lem, Natalie, Thaw and Natalie’s sister headed into Lochlee on a reconnaissance trip. Just getting into town proved to be a challenge. Cars that had run out of gas sat half on and half off the road. Children darted in and around traffic. A dead dog and two dead cats lay on the roadside along the way and one dead cat, many times run over, lay in the middle of the road. Most people clustered in or near their cars, which were parked helter-skelter on grassy areas beside the road. Some, however, wandered as if lost along the roadsides and a few even wandered along the yellow lines in the middle of the road. Natalie’s city planner background had her sitting on the edge of the back seat. “My god. It’s worse than I thought it might be. Chaos. Just chaos. We’ve got to do something!”
Thaw had his arm around her shoulders. He squeezed them gently. “Easy to say, Nat. We’re doing everything we can.”
Natalie gave him a look
and shook his hand from her shoulder. “No. We can do more. We need a sizable police force and some kind of a zoning and parking plan, Thaw.” She leaned forward to address the driver. “What do you think, Lem?”
Lem, glanced back toward Natalie. “I think we need to get these Newcomers settled in before we take in any more. That’s what I think.”
May, the only one among them who still called Lem by his given name, remained skeptical. “How, Arthur? I think everyone is pushed to their limit now.”
Lem took only a second to respond. “Prioritize.”
Now May was in the fray. “Prioritize what?”
“First priority has to be limiting the number of emigrants.”
“Yes, that’s what you say, Arthur. But it’s more easily said than done.”
“It is. But I’ve been giving it some thought. I think we have to take Martha’s idea and expand it even further. In theory we are under Marshall Law. But there is no one to enforce it. So we expand the number of our own enforcement deputies and use them for more than just limiting the number of people getting off the trains. To do it we’d deputize more of those who can handle a gun.”
May was dismayed. “You can’t have every Tom, Dick, and Harry running around with guns. Who’s to know who is a deputy and who is a downright thief?”
Lem’s years in the military had taught him about the power of uniforms and insignia. “Giv’em all identifying badges and have them wear similar identifying vests or hats.”
And so it was that from this conversation, an informal zoning committee was formed that met later at the communications center in the firehouse. Lem set to work on getting SEMA or FEMA approval for the plan, but the phone lines were impossible and neither answered his emails in time for the Council’s meeting. Natalie, with Thaw’s and Lem’s help and input from some of the other Townees at the center, drew up a proposed zoning map and Natalie’s sister made a hundred “Town Deputy - Lochlee - Traffic Police” plastic covered badges. Each was clearly numbered so that who was where could be easily tracked visually by Townees and Newcomers alike. Lem and Thaw developed a list of available licensed gun carriers willing to serve as Traffic Police.
At the Council meeting that night, Natalie and Lem proposed their ideas, which were swiftly passed despite protestations from a few more conservative members of the community who argued against what they termed “trespassing” inherent in some of the zoning proposal and others who believed the presence of guns along the road was unnecessary. Their arguments were heard, but again, debate was limited and a zoning committee was set up. It was to use the zoning plan Natalie had drawn up. Natalie, as the appointed chairperson of the new committee, was to find ways to mark out and label the parking and no parking areas. And a committee was formed under the local sheriff’s deputy to develop rules and guidelines for parking and traffic control. The president of the local gun club appointed a committee to aid with the selection of deputies, the distribution of badges, and scheduling of those deputized.
Over the weeks that followed, new deputies were assigned to move people to more workable positions and to keep the roads clear. When the towns reached double their size, the deputies kept additional newcomers moving northward. Those almost out of gas were given a few gallons so they could move on. Those who stayed had to park their cars and keep them parked, letting their gas be siphoned off to go to those who were moved further northward.
It wasn’t a total answer, but the improvement in community organization and traffic flow fed itself, and, oddly, life settled to a degree of predictability that seemed, at times, almost normal.
Helped by all the plumbers and carpenters who could be located among the Townees and the Newcomers, the town had set up emergency showers on the beach, but there was a dearth of bathrooms and already sanitation needs had resulted in an increase in flies and malodorous vapors. The fear was that it would not be long before sickness became rampant.
So at one of the town meetings, Dody spoke. “Dang blast it! We got a real problem coming with the shortage of outside plumbing!”
“Tell us about it, Dody!” a blond-haired, somewhat overweight young man blurted. “In my place down by the lake the flies and smells are getting worse everyday. They’re using the woods behind my house, but there are so many of them that when the wind changes I have to close my windows. Lucky I got screens or I don’t know what I’d do. Pretty soon people are going to be getting sick. And it’s not going to be from fallout!”
Dody went on. “What we need are some shovels.”
The blond man laughed. “You ain’t gonna get me out there shoveling sand over other people’s droppings!”
Dody’s dander was up now. “Damn it all, smart ass! I’m not talking about covering it up. I’m talking about digging some holes. Makin’ some quicky privies.”
But the young man’s dander was also up. “Yeah, Mr. Know-it-all. And who’s going to dig the holes, Dody Wamp? You? We got enough to do now!” He turned red and beads of perspiration gathered on his forehead.
Dody jutted his face forward toward the young man. “Listen, Filmore Smore. You with us or agin us? I’m not talking about us digging the holes. We need to get us some shovels. We pass ’em out among the Newcomers. Those’d are carpenters among ’em get wood and hammers and nails. We arrange from our emergency fund with the lumber yard. Those’d ken pay, pay. They make boxes big enough to sit over the holes. With covers if possible. Where they can, families can make outhouses for themselves. Then we find some slaked lime and distribute that. The lime can then be put down the covered holes and used to reduce the germ and odor buildup in the waste matter.”
A young dark-haired man rose and spoke from the back corner of the room. His demeanor was calm and his speech light and clear. “While I was out in Vermont one summer I worked for a while on the Appalachian Trail in the Green Mountain National Forest. They had these here things they called moldering privies. Neat because they were environmentally safe. If we built that kind we wouldn’t have to worry about the lake.”
Dody was still standing. His response was calmer, but initially his voice was almost a shout which he quickly modified with some sense of determined need for greater reasonableness. “I don’t know a dang thing about moldering privies.” He paused but then continued. His voice was almost too soft to be heard. “But I heard ov’em. But if they don’t use lime or slaked lime wha’da they use?” He looked at the young man, but the look was one of inquisitiveness rather than challenge. Dody’s nature was to flare suddenly and briefly. His dander was down again. He was just looking for information.
The stranger’s response remained even. “Duff. You know, the decayed vegetable matter that covers the base of the forest floor. You build this wooden pyramid-shaped crib over the pit out of eight-by-eight cedar landscaping lumber, in three levels with two timbers per level. Saves having to dig more than a few inches down. Then you just fill the bottom and up the sides a bit with about eight inches of duff. You can also use pine shavings. Then you throw in a bunch of red worms to aid in the composting and somebody has to mix it every so often to keep the composting going on.”
But Dody had another question. “What d’ya do when it fills?”
And the young man had an answer. “Move it. Just cover over the spot with more duff to keep the animals out when you do.”
“Maybe they’d be easier to build and keep than the regular ones. Maybe they’d be better. But you sure you know how to build one? The way I’d build it, the stuff’d probably be all runnin’ out the sides.” Dody appeared dead serious. But a few people laughed. Dody’d found his element again. A responsive audience. “Don’t laugh. That’s what’d happen.”
The young man rose again. “I have an idea how to but I think we could pull down some information from the web that might help us. Anybody here good with web research?”
Larry addressed the question from the chair. “Well, Dody, I’ll put the question on the Council agenda and I’ll ask the people in the communicat
ions center to see what they can find out about those…what are they…?” He looked down at his notes. “Yes, I have it right here…moldering privy…about those moldering privies. I think the Council will jump on it. Anyone willing to start with the construction of them should see Dody and, what’s your name young man?”
Still standing, he responded. “William. William McLean.”
Larry was not about to lose this gem. “You willing to work with Dody on this measure when it’s approved?”
McLean nodded his head. “Yes, I am.”
“Good then.” Larry addressed the gathering. “Anyone willing to help out, see Dody Wamp or William McLean. And would the two of you mind staying over for the Council Meeting?”
Dody spoke first. “I got the time.”
McLain followed suit. “I’d be glad to stay.”
“Thank you, William. Thank you, Dody.”
Larry drew the topic to a close by asking the two men to go down and talk with the lake front people first. “That’s where the problem seems to be worst.”
Dody responded first again. “Sure. Wouldn’t take much. There ought to be some carpenters and excavators among ’em that could take care of it for us. You up for it, William?”
“I’m up for it,” McLean chimed back.
But inadvertently Dody had alerted Larry to an important new consideration. “I like your notion of involving the Newcomers, Dody. Maybe we need to have them begin to send up delegates to our Council meetings. So while you’re down there you might as well feel ’em out about that. Maybe I’ll go with you…after I talk to the Council further.”
And that was how it came to be that the Council was expanded to include three Newcomers as ad hoc committee members, and a number of shallow holes were dug and pyramid shapes placed over them for use as privy seats, the plan being to return when possible and construct outhouses around them. While this system made privacy difficult to achieve, it did not prevent a rapid movement to the “step-ups” as people took to calling them, because of the step-like shape they took. And some families rigged blankets around the boxes and some used umbrellas to break the site lines, but by this point everyone had seen almost everyone down there in one stage of undress or another during the DECON efforts, or had found themselves off together to “take a leak in the woods,” so the degree to which cover was necessary was partly personal and partly set by community demands, and overall any well meant effort came to be acceptable. And the smaller children were encouraged to use the ones built on a smaller scale closer to the community and out of view of those used by adults.
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