Boston Darkens

by Michael Kravitz

  “Tomorrow we will have a collaborative meeting,” I said cheerfully. “The president will speak at 2:00 p.m. I feel he seems to really care about the people,” I commented with optimism. I looked at Fred. “God, he still is happy. He does not know the realty of the situation. All he knows is that he is taken care of. His mind seems to be on his bird feeder and those pesky squirrels.”

  William headed back with Fred at a slow pace. I was sure his wife would feed Fred and William. It was a crapshoot to what I might find stepping inside my own home. Within fifty feet, I heard the Buick pull up. Randy seemed to have had a good outing. There were many stranded cars with gas in them.

  “Look, Pops. The collaborative is well stocked with gasoline,” he said.

  “Great job,” I said in a supporting tone. “That should really bring everyone’s morale up when we meet tomorrow. I continued on to our door. Randy parked the Buick in the back.

  Alice was cooking on the stove. “I guess its spaghetti night,” I said to Jessica. She had this mischievous smile, a smile that told me something was about to happen. I went into the bedroom.

  My clothes were not only cleaned but also pressed. There was a candle burning on the dresser. Outside it was still a bit chilly, typical April weather. Inside seemed warm. The electric heater was still a little warm, and the gas stove also was throwing some heat.

  “What do you think, Dad? Nice to have clean, pressed clothes?”

  Jessica said with excitement. “Mom and I make a good team.” Alice was trying to hide her smile.

  Randy came in and immediately noticed the warmth and his pressed clothes. “Mom, it smells good. When are we going to eat?” Randy said cheerfully.

  “In about one hour,” she said softly. “Would you mind setting the plates?”

  We sat down and had a great meal. Alice also bought a bottle of wine to the table. This is a strange way of smoking the peace pipe, I thought, but I was grateful to see the thaw in her face.

  At the dinner table, Randy related his experiences on the highway. And he talked about some of the people who were looking for anything they can find. “It’s a wasteland. Debris everywhere. I hate seeing the broken windows. There are some fine cars. The trucks we went into yesterday are now pretty empty. As we were driving, we could see smoke coming out of the strip mall by the highway,” Randy said as he finished with his little salad. “Dad, I think we should check on Grandma soon.” Jesus, I thought. Did we not just finish the cold war? Is this what therapy is? Are we to carry on like nothing happened? I thought of opening up a dialogue, but maybe this had been stressful enough on all of us.

  I needed to think before I speak. I was still trying to figure out the woman’s mind.

  “I really appreciate a nice, warm meal,” I said. I figured that was my way of smoking the peace pipe.

  “Many of the runners would eat a big carb dinner the night before the marathon,” Jessica chimed in. “Where they start the race is a long ways from the finish line.”

  “Over twenty-six miles,” Randy boastfully said. Cars and sports were Randy forte. Now that dinner was over, I helped with the cleanup. “It’s nice to have a full belly and a warm home.” I said trying to make small talk.

  “Last night Ben reminded me of our days in Nebraska,” Alice said in a romantic way. “I really enjoy the culture, malls, and the opportunities of the East Coast,” she said. I could feel a big but coming. “There was more caring and gatherings of our neighbors back home,” said Alice, taking a little trip down memory lane.

  I felt like this was letting out the fish line. You have to feel it out.

  “Well, dear,” I said, trying to accelerate the thawing, “tomorrow is our meeting. There is a lot to talk about it. I also feel like the collaborative is bonding well,” I commented, choosing my words carefully. “The next day we can leave for Boston.”

  In a deliberate way, I stated, “Tomorrow the president is going to speak. I really want to get a handle not only on the country but also downtown Boston. Randy said Officer Ryan was not home. I think either he or the commander got him back to work.”

  Stress really makes me tired. Dusk want setting in. Lighting candles would serve no purpose. We still had flashlights to go to the bathroom. Randy was outside. He set up warning string too. He had learned how in an old war movie. One would tie together two tin can with nuts and bolts in them. They would be spaced about ten feet apart. The string should not be seen. This way if someone was to go after the Buick we could hear the rattling of the cans.

  Emotionally I was still distraught—too much for me to handle. I could get relief through a whiskey bottle, but a look at the drunk ended that thought. I was a father and a husband but also the glue for our collaborative. It was not only a means for our survival but also a good social interaction for all of us. When the patriot players came out for introductions, they came out as a team. They did not come out one at a time. They were one. This was what I wanted for the collaborative.

  “Alice, I really need to get to bed,” I stated boldly. “Tomorrow is a pivotal day.”

  “Sounds like good advice, Ben,” Alice said with more normality.

  In the middle of the night, I got up to go to the bathroom. Alice was sleeping on her back. She was not on her side with her back to me.

  Huh? I thought. I do believe the war is over.

  I had a decent night’s sleep. As morning came, the temperature cooled in the house. We were now at the same temperature as outside.

  Sleeping under a lot of quilts, your body stays warm, but your face breathes in the cool air. It does put me in a deep sleep. When I arise, I feel rested.

  In the morning I found Randy awake. We both made some instant coffee. With the refrigerator cooled down, I opened it. I decided to scramble some eggs for the whole family. So far with our collaborative, we were staying afloat. I did feel a little sad. I knew we had taken action, and we were surviving; however, I was sure many of the elderly and those who lived in high-rise complexes were probably not so fortunate.

  I told Randy that I would be outside checking the sundial for the correct time. As the days passed in April, we found the sunrise early at 7:30 a.m. We had a meeting today set for the early afternoon. I wanted to cut as many branches as I could. I sat on my cooler for a half hour. I was enjoying my cup of coffee. The air was crisp, and the sun was magnificent.

  I did hear the sounds of a cargo plane. The military must have been flying in supplies. The military and politicians made sure they were protected from all unforeseen events. We’ve known about EMP devices for a long time. It is a tradition that goes back a long time. Save the queen and king at all costs. There are underground bunkers for the top leaders. I wondered if our top leaders had evolved at all.

  In my humble opinion, there have been three great leaders in this past century. First has to be Winston Churchill. The Nazi war machine rained down on London daily. As the stoic population sought shelter with each siren, Winston gave his famous speech. “There is nothing to fear but fear itself.” It gave hope not only to the English but to all the Allies as well. They were hardened fighters.

  My second pick would be President John Kennedy (Camelot). He was an Ivy League man who spoke eloquently. He was a Democrat and our first Catholic. His Boston accent made him distinguishable. He traveled to the Berlin Wall. In German, he told the Berliners, “We stand with you.” He gave courage to those who defied the Russian communist machine.

  What impressed me was his communication to the common folks. He urged shelters against a possible nuke attack. This was more symbolic than a real solution. The main thrust was to let those KGB thugs know we were ready to defy them. He implored all Americans with one of his most famous lines, “Ask not what your country can do for you but what you can do for your country.” Gads, that was inspirational. High school and other public buildings display this saying in their foyers to this day.


  Like the license plate of New Hampshire says, “Live Free or Die,” he drew his line in the sand. During the Cuban Missile Crisis, he sent US Navy warships to form a blockade. President Kennedy was not about to let Russians install nukes ninety miles from Key West. As the Russian premier pounded his mighty fist, he sent the Russian submarines into action. They were there to possibly sink the American ships. It was an extremely tense time for the two superpowers. The most perilous time was when the Russian submarines lost contact with the Kremlin. The world outcome was in the hands of a resolute American president and the commander of a Russian submarine. The Russian commander could have sent a torpedo at the Americans. That could have had started a nuclear war that would have devastated our planet. Only the cockroaches would survive the nuclear blast. The Russian commander was sane. He knew there could be no winners. He ordered the submarines to stand down.

  President Kennedy had a love for his country and our forefathers. His policies were made for economic growth. On that frightful day in November, he was taken from us. The horror and emotions went into infamy.

  The third great leader in my view was President Ronald Reagan—a cowboy actor, a former Democrat, governor, and finally president. When he became president, the country was in turmoil. With high inflation, Americans were taken hostage. We were humiliated and appeared weak.

  The economy spiraled downward. The Russian bear was getting fat. It snarled and breathed down heavily on Europe. The Europeans seemed passive and splintered. The great communicator talked directly to the American people. He explained in detail about the threat to freedom, to us, and to the world. He came up with a plan—Star Wars, which was a giant money pit. It was a ruse, a bluff at the poker table. To the Russians, it was real. They tried to match him. But their economy was in a fragile state. The Russian people suffered greatly. The Russians then spent the final ruble that broke their economy. They could not empty their pockets of any more change. Like the walls of Jericho, the Berlin wall came down. There were rumors that the guards were confused with their orders. Some historians say it was a communication glitch. After the wall came down, there was a domino effect. The Eastern Bloc was fractured and floating away.

  Like Kennedy, President Reagan had love for his country. He enacted his supply-side economic policies. With the far-left liberals and most of the mainstream media mocking him, he carried out his policy.

  He said with pure eloquence, “Rising seas lift all ships.” This was his theme. The economic seas really rose in the United States. Trillions in wealth was created. There were so many jobs that people from around the world were trying to jump aboard our economic gravy train. He did this not for personal gain but love of all mankind.

  After President Reagan, the American experiment hit many snags. We were adrift. The political monster reared its ugly head. Instead of speaking from the hearts, government filled with professional handlers. The right and left dug in their heels. The Beltway caught a terrible disease called polarization. Instead of a love for country, it was a love of money and power.

  In my opinion we drifted without a rudder. Our top leaders became wealthy while they were in office.

  Their families and friends became wealthy. All the while I viewed Moses on top of the mountain, shaking his head. He saw all this greed and domination for personal gain.

  Here we are in a terrible predicament. There could have been a biological weapon, suicide bombings, and number of other threats. In an open and free society, it is difficult to protect the people. No longer wishing to reminisce, I had to deal with our collaborative. The hardships were very real. I wanted another fire—fire for warmth, light, cooking, and purifying our water. A fire with stimulating social discourse outweighs being alone in front of a TV tube. As a good Christian, I knew there had to be a light at the end of this tunnel.

  It was late morning. Already the Henderson family and a few neighbors came. I just hoped the drunk would show up sober. To my surprise, Vivian and her mom showed up. They both came on bicycles. Vivian’s mom indicated to me that she had to cook the meat in her freezer. It would go bad soon. I said to her, “Isn’t it dangerous for two women to be out in this wasteland?”

  “I believe Jesus will protect me, but I also have this equalizer,” she said. Then she showed me a 9mm gun. I smiled.

  We would soon start another collaborative meeting with good food.

  One could only pull the rabbit out of the hat so many times. I was sure with the survival radio would be spitting out a gloomy forecast. But today for us it was sunny skies.

  It started out more as a frat party than a meeting. But a constant drumbeat of gloom and doom came out of the survival radio—countless stories of deaths, riots, suicides, and mankind’s inhumanity to man.

  Just west of the Mississippi River, survival tents were set up. They were intended to stop the flow of immigration into the unaffected area.

  The whole country had been affected economically and spiritually.

  Commerce, stock markets, and communications had been influenced throughout the whole country.

  To make matters worse, biker gangs from Southern California went into the affected areas. They attacked the supply trucks to the tent cities. Just like Genghis Khan, they also went for the spoils. In this new lawless territory, there was one matter they did not count on. They were entering an area of guns and Bibles. To many of these simple people, they all had one common thread. There was no gray area. Either you were children of God, or you were doing the bidding of the Devil. After a while our new president did seem like a leader. When a convoy of supplies was sent, it was well protected. There would be no stagecoach sent out for the slaughter.

  Everyone was here except Officer Ryan. We all chimed in and had a say. Even the drunk showed up and spoke with a coherent tongue. My God, would miracles never cease? We pooled our resources and ideas. I told everyone my plans for the following day. Right then Officer Ryan’s wife showed up. She explained that he was called to duty. Damn, I thought, there goes our mafia protection. I told her I was about to embark on a short trip to a Boston hospital. She told me that if I could wait one more day, her husband would join me. It seemed that the barracks commander had a sick mom at a Boston hospital. When he found out about the Buick, he asked for a favor. Well, her husband smiled and said he would oblige. I thought about it for a few minutes. I told her that I would pick him up early the day after tomorrow.

  “Please tell him to be dresses in his state trooper’s attire. I do not want the Buick confiscated by another policeman or gang.” She agreed.

  We all agreed on this change in plans, and the meeting petered out as the day turned into night. It was another day to be thankful for. Again the drunk and William helped to keep the area tidy. Well, it was off to bed for me. I was also off to a more receptive wife. I insisted that Vivian and her mom sleep here for the night. I told them, “You got to know when to hold them and when to fold them.” They both smiled and nodded. As Jimmy Durante would say, “Good night, Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Boston or Bust

  THERE WAS ONE more day before my trip to Boston. Most times it is less than an hour’s drive to Boston. When I would go to work in the morning, it could take me one and half to two hours. It is a small and compact city. The thousands of college students, hospitals, and churches really promotes gridlock in the mix. Many of the high-tech companies like mine are in the outer section of the city. With the Atlantic Ocean acting as a buffer to the east, all traffic comes from the other parts.

  There are a few roads, such as the Mass Pike, that are straight. Many of the other roads wind and turn. This is a challenge to the snowplows. Many of the roads date back hundreds of years. They follow cow or horse paths. I do not know if the cows and horses were in search of water or if they had a drinking problem. Like so many cities, Boston has too many vehicles to traverse the limited roads. I thought there was a divin
e reason to delay one more day.

  Officer Ryan seemed like a straight shooter, but was he battle- tested? I knew whatever talent he had was better than anyone in our little collaborative. Like a finely tuned engine, we functioned as one.

  Eventually we would run out of some necessities, but I felt we were faring better than most. The trip through Providence and to Connecticut was a harrowing one. In my gut I knew there could be worse challenges in Boston.

  My head was swimming with multiple thoughts. Right now my family and neighbors had food, water, and basic survival resources. It was the unknown that frightened me. I had accomplished keeping my wife and son fed and protected. It was security that I needed to provide them. We’ve walked on eggshells. I had a real thirst to listen to more to the survival radio. The more knowledge I gained, the better for me to handle our own survival. Randy and Alice could easily break out of the fold again. I had to really laugh at myself. Jessica and Vivian were more battle-tested than Randy or probably Officer Ryan. During my trip to Boston, someone will have to ride shotgun.

  The good, the bad, and the ugly seemed to come out of all of us during this crisis. Jessica was solidly behind me. I hoped that there would be a fairy-tale ending to this ongoing nightmare. Every father dreams of walking down the aisle with his only little princess. I had to wipe away a tear in my eyes. Why, Lord, do we have to have so much evil in the world? It was not only the terrorist but men who beat their wives and dogs. It was the corrupt politician, all the Internet scams, and all the salesmen selling snake oil. The list went on and on.

  As I was from Nebraska, I liked to keep it simple. As I got older, I tried to get a little wiser. The greatest line I ever heard came from President Reagan. “Trust but verify,” he said. Damn, that says it all. Everyone’s mind wanders when we are put to the test. I was a Christian man. I had learned much. The Lord would not throw anything at you that you could not handle. Thinking about pleasant memories relaxes people. William was always mediating. He was so mellow. Funny he didn’t smoke pot, drink, or watch any kind of porn. I really respected him for finding that inner peace. To me, if there ever was a modern-day Moses, it would be him.