I got up from my water cooler. (It was the best seat in the house.) As the noise got louder, my curiosity overcame me, and I jogged to the road. In the far distance, I could make out two objects coming this way. Truly this was an event. Two antique motor bikes with two people on them kept coming in this direction. They came right toward me. Soon their engines and speed were slowing down. I was stunned! It was Officer Ryan and the lieutenant. They both stopped and smiled. They extended their kickstands and shut off the engines, and then they approached me.
“Collaborative, Mr. Randal, you are the talk at the barracks,” the lieutenant said with a big smile. “You got the fire going well. Very impressive. I came here to introduce to you a few distant neighbors.”
The lieutenant was trying to use me as a model collaborative. At this point Mr. Henderson came by. He had also heard the noise of the engines. I offered them some water from our well, but I instructed them to boil it first. It would be a long walk with a wheelbarrow to cart the water back if they could not get a vehicle. The Buick was around the back and out of sight. Both the lieutenant and Officer Ryan said nothing of the Buick. They could have commandeered it, but both had too much honor to pull a stunt like that.
The skies were starting to open a little, and the drizzle came. The lieutenant offered to pick up Mr. Henderson the next day. He could show them how to dig a well. With drizzle increasing, they were in a rush to get back. The lieutenant and Officer Ryan took off with their passengers.
After I went back into the house, the intensity of the drizzle increased. April showers may bring May flowers, but it was not much fun when it was damp and cool outside and a little cool inside. Alice was up, and we exchanged hellos.
We had a fireplace, but our careers had a way of limiting our time, so we never used it. I checked the flue, hoping that the liner inside the chimney was fine. Without electricity, our furnace did not work. Randy and I went outside to fetch some kindling. The rain was now coming down a bit harder. Back inside we took off our shoes so that we did not bring in dirt. Alice really liked a clean house. Wet wood made starting a fire a little more challenging. Finding old newspapers and other papers we no longer needed, we were ready to start. At first we smoked out the house. Try, try again. We crumbled up some newspapers and put small pieces of wood in the fireplace. Then we finally had our cozy fire going.
For the rest of the day, we traversed in and out of the house and looked for wood. This was a lot of work. I had to use an old saw to cut many of the pieces. This was a lot of work, but we had all the time we needed. Today they did not bring the generator. The rain not only dampened our feelings but limited our activities. Without opening up the refrigerator much, we survived the day. The girls did the cleaning. Randy and I read by the fireplace. Without lights, we headed off to bed early each night.
The next day was warm. Normally Randy would be watching the Sox play. Tickets could be costly. Randy told me that they could run in the hundreds. Parking, eating a Fenway frank, and drinking a beer could almost equal a mortgage payment. We had gone to a few minor league games. Parking was easier, and there seemed to be better interaction with other fans. At the end of the games, many times there were fireworks. You could get a good value for your money.
What a grand day. Our neighbors had survived. I saw a few up and about. I took a short walk and saw the divorcée. She was busy starting her garden by hand. Using a pick and hoe, she turned over the soil. With coffee in hand, I said hello. I mentioned that Randy and her daughter might be willing to help. Interesting, she thought. She wanted to dwell on it for a few days. She also said a few of the others would like to help. After a bit I headed home. Alice came out of the house with coffee.
The temperature both inside and outside of the house was pleasant. After a short time, we saw two figures coming down the road. It wasn’t long before we could see it was Vivian and her mom on bicycles. Vivian seemed fine, but her mom looked like she should have taken a cab. She was really breathing hard because she was out of shape.
“Morning, Mr. and Mrs. Randal,” Vivian exclaimed. “Morning,” both Alice and I politely returned.
“Morning, Vivian,” Jessica said as she came out to greet them.
Randy came outside and said good morning too, but then he just sat and drank a cup of instant coffee.
“Mr. Randal, I came here to ask a favor,” Vivian’s mom said as she was holding onto the handle bars and breathing heavily. “I need a ride to check on my sister. She is alone. I think it would be better that she come stay with Vivian and me.”
I hesitated and then sighed.” I am not sure. I have been through two harrowing experiences. I don’t think I can go through it again,” I said with as much compassion as I could.
“She lives fifteen miles from here. It is not in Boston. I don’t think I can bike that far,” she said, still catching her breath “I’m sorry. I think I reached my limits with taking drives outside our area,” I said. I was still recovering from that last emotional trip.
“I can do it, Dad. It is safe where she lives. It’s not the projects or downtown Boston,” Randy said cheerfully.
“No, I do not think it is a good idea,” I retorted, not wanting to put my son through what just happened to me.
“I understand, Mr. Randal. You have been through a lot. Maybe it’s my turn. I have to try.” Vivian’s mom mounted the bike.
Vivian was about to speak herself, but her mom said that it was time for them to go.
“Stop. Please stop,” Alice screamed out to Vivian and her mom as they were peddling away. Alice looked at Ben and then at Randy. “I just lost my mom. My heart is broken,” she said. “I don’t want to lose any of my family.” As she carefully looked at all of us, she turned and looked at Vivian. “My dear, I would never forgive myself if you lost your mom on this bike ride.” She walked toward Vivian and clasped her cheeks. “Randy, you be careful and come right back home. You know your dad and I will be worrying the whole time.”
“I’ll go with Randy. This is too much on my mom,” Vivian interrupted.
“Besides, I have the equalizer. It will be the remake of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” Vivian said with a little naïveté.
“I—” I started, but Alice put her finger on my mouth.
“Randy will be fine. You’re a great dad. You taught him well,” Alice said.
“Yes, Dad, I will be fine,” Randy said as he went to grab the .22 rifle. “Besides, I am really itchy to do something.” Alice gave Randy a couple containers of food. I decided to give Randy two gallons of the spring water. It could be useful for bartering.
Jessica hugged Vivian, and Alice hugged Randy. Randy filled the tank with gas. All of us knew that Randy and I could not be together.
When a calamity happened, the president and vice president always traveled separately. This way control and command could go forward.
Randy had his .22 rifle, and Vivian had her gun. I had a knot in my stomach. Vivian’s mom was in the backseat. They had to drop Vivian’s mom off at her apartment complex. It was hard for me to watch. We were a Christian family. Alice and I had been through a lot. This was one more adventure in these troubled time.
Randy drove into the gated complex. Someone had crashed into the gate. The rubbish and the smell were a little bit much for his liking. Randy stopped the Buick by the side door. He lifted the bikes out of the trunk and let Vivian and her mom walk the bikes up to her apartment. To leave the Buick unguarded would be a tragic mistake. As he watched the two go upstairs, he noticed the rubbish that was strewn everywhere. There were several people looking at his car. Mostly they kept their distance. A few came up to engage him in conversation. Randy elected to keep a little distant. There was nothing to gain by being overly friendly with any of Vivian’s neighbors. After a good ten minutes, Vivian came downstairs and out to the car.
“I am all set, Randy,” she said as she opened the
door. “Let’s rock and roll.” She closed the passenger door and put the gun in her lap.
“You’ll have to give me directions,” Randy said as he started up the Buick and drove past the broken gate. Vivian pointed for him to take a left. She was handling the gun.
“I hope I do not have to use it.” She remembered the Providence incident.
“I hope not either,” Randy said with compliance. Randy and Vivian had never interacted much. They were a few years apart in age, and she really was Vivian’s friend.
“A lot of stalled cars and broken windows,” Randy said.
“Yes, it was that way when we came back from Connecticut. It just seems that a few people are pushing the cars off to the side,” she said when they noticed a few people trying to do just that. Vivian knew the way well. She took Randy through several side streets. “I am taking you around the side streets. I think there are a lot less stalled cars. The highways were packed early that morning, but not the side streets.”
Doing it this way took longer. It was a good forty-minute ride.
Randy noticed that they were in a section of town known as “the lower end.” There were mostly three and six family wooden structures there.
Some of the mom-and-pop stores were trashed. Some were sitting in chairs outside, guarding their stores.
“We are getting close,” Vivian said as she noticed a few young kids milling around. More thugs looking for spoils. “It’s a half of a mile past that pharmacy.” Outside the pharmacy two police officers were standing guard. Randy noticed the young thugs. His instinct was to stop near the police officers. They were both middle-aged and African.
With one variety store trashed, the other had a man guarding it with a gun.
Randy rolled down the window. “Officer, we have to get to an apartment down the street. Could I get one of you to assist us?” he asked when he noticed that the number of thugs had increased to five. They were eying his beautiful Buick.
“What is a rich white boy doing in this part of town?” the African- American policeman said to Randy with an undertone of sarcasm.
“This is my sister’s friend Vivian. Her aunt lives on the second floor three streets down,” Randy explained, trying to work past the policeman’s bias. “Look, I am just trying to get her aunt out of there and take her back with us. I will give you a gallon of spring water and some freshly made soup my mom made this morning. To top it off, I have an extra loaf of wheat bread.” Randy was trying his best to bribe the tall policeman. Randy sighed, put his hand on the steering, and was about to take off.
“Just go with him,” his fellow officer said. “Make sure your back in twenty minutes. We have our orders to guard this pharmacy. Just leave the water and food here,” he said with wide eyes.
“Gladly,” Randy said as he put the water and food on the sidewalk. The African-American policeman looked down at Randy’s .22 and Vivian’s gun.
He put on a bulletproof vest that was next to him on the ground. He picked up his shotgun and checked the safety, opened the door, and got into the backseat of the Buick.
“My mom died last week,” he said while he was looking at the punks. “She was in a nursing home. After the blast went off, many of the workers did not show up the next day. The owners came back the next day with two wheelbarrows. They emptied the kitchen and never came back. Nobody cares about the poor anymore,” he said with anger.
Randy just looked at him through the rearview mirror.
“At least you’re trying to help,” the police officer said, looking into the mirror.
“Pull over here and stop,” Vivian ordered.
Randy stopped and turned off the engine.
“Let’s go, Randy. Hurry up,” Vivian said loudly.
Randy opened the door and grabbed his rifle. As he was getting out, he turned around and grabbed the keys. The police officer stepped outside the car. As he grabbed his shotgun, the punks started to come closer. They were drawn by the shiny Buick.
“You need to step back,” the police officer shouted.
Two of them came closer. He took his shotgun and fired a round over their heads..
“I’m not playing,” the officer exclaimed.
Randy was trying to get inside. The front door was locked. He knocked loudly. Nothing. Randy knocked even louder. Still nothing.
“Let’s get going,” the police officer yelled. “You’ve have ten minutes, and I am out of here.”
“Screw it,” Randy said. He lowered his shoulder and rammed into the door. The latch broke, and they were inside. Randy ran up the stairs as Vivian followed. He knocked on her aunt’s door. Nothing. Vivian knocked twice very loudly. “Auntie? Auntie?” she said. There was a dark and narrow staircase. The walls were scuffed from furniture and appliances.
“Watch out, Vivian.” Randy once again lowered his shoulder. It was an old wooden door. One hard run, and he was in.
“Auntie? Auntie?” Vivian yelled. Then she found her on the kitchen floor. “She is still breathing.” Vivian gave her a small glass of juice she found on the counter. “We’ve got to go, Auntie. My mom will take care of you. We’ve got to go now,” Vivian said with authority.
She turned. “Randy, get a few bags. Put some cans and dry goods in one. Take a few of her personal belongings and clothing too,” she screamed.
“I can’t find any bags,” Randy exclaimed.
“Just grab two bedsheets,” Vivian yelled even louder.
Randy grabbed two of the bedsheets from her bedroom. He saw some little critters. Yuck, he thought. He could also smell urine.
Uncomfortable with woman’s clothing, he threw in underwear and various blouses, pants, and skirts.
“Hurry up, folks. These little maggots creep me out,” the police officer said.
Randy quickly put the other sheet on the kitchen floor and started the throw in canned goods and dry goods. He didn’t even want to open the refrigerator door.
“You want to check what I threw in here?” Randy asked Vivian.
“No, Mom has a lot of clothes, and so do I,” Vivian said politely. She grabbed her auntie by the shoulders and guided her downstairs.
Randy followed quickly. The police officer opened the door and helped with her aunt.
“My bankbook and health card are in my top dresser drawer,” her auntie cried out. Randy just ran back upstairs. He opened the top draw and then took a pillowcase off the pillow. He put all the papers inside it. When they got to her sister’s house, they could sort it out there.
“Let’s go,” yelled the police officer.
Everyone got into the car. Vivian’s auntie was in the backseat with the police officer. Randy made a U-turn and went back to the pharmacy.
The thugs were caught by surprise. They just stood there, especially since the police officer had his shotgun pointing out the window. Randy drove up to the pharmacy and pulled over. He just shook his hand. If he hugged him, he might have given him bedbugs. He just wanted to go home and shower. He would leave his clothes outside and wash them at the next collaborative meeting.
“Thank you, Randy,” Vivian sincerely said. “You helped my mom and my auntie. You’re a sweet guy. You’re going to make some pretty girl happy one day.”
With a big smile, Randy drove off to Vivian’s mom’s house. There were lots of stalled cars but no more calamities. They had been away for a little more than two hours. As Randy drove into the complex, he beeped his horn. Vivian’s mom rushed out to see her sister. She started to cry, and she rocked her back and forth with a big hug. Vivian’s mom had blue dungarees and a sweatshirt on. One of her friends was visiting.
They each had a glass of wine. Vivian and her mom both hugged and thanked Randy.
“Tell Jessica I’ll visit her in a few days,” Vivian yelled out as Randy got in the Buick. With her auntie’s belongings on the sidewalk, he started to
back out.
“I will do that. Take care,” Randy exclaimed. It was a very short drive home from there. Maybe ten minutes. Randy thought it was good just to take a drive.
As he passed the attorney’s house, the air seemed crisper and cleaner.
Or maybe his mind finally felt relaxed. When he went by William’s house, he saw Fred outside, and the man waved to Randy. Randy beeped his horn, which made his day. Little human interaction really made Fred a happy man.
As Randy drove in, he beeped his horn once more. Mr. Henderson and the divorcée were in the yard. Everyone was happy to see Randy. He grabbed his .22 rifle as he exited the car.
“No gunshots, son?” I asked with curiosity.
“No, Dad, pretty routine. Just a warning shot from the police officer.”
“Warning shot? Police officer?” I said. “What the hell did you two do?” I asked.
“I did what you said, Dad. I bartered with a police officer. He took the food and water. In return, he fired his shotgun in the air. It’s like a male dog urinating on the bushes to mark his territory. That’s all, Dad,”
Randy said as he took the rifle to his room.
With a big smile on my face, I thought, ‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree’. It was time to start an outdoor fire so that we could all eat and warm up.
“Son, the divorcée is trying to till the land for a garden. When you’re rested, why don’t you help her? They sure could use a man helping once in a while,” I said with utter politeness.
“I am on it, Dad,” he replied.
As I turned around, I saw Alice hugging Jessica’s shoulders. “God, I have two good men in my family,” Alice said, wiping away a tear.
“Isn’t that the truth?” Jessica said with a fond look on her face.
The rest of day went smoothly. Randy did take a cold shower.
Because he was a little paranoid, he put his clothes in a plastic bag.
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