by Wilson Harp
I nodded and went back to watching the crowd. Luke Carter was another one of those making the rounds of the small groups, but instead of gathering information, he was letting everyone know what was going to happen in the next couple of days. He had a genial manner as he talked to each group, and I noticed the subtle way he changed his tone and wording as he started speaking.
To small groups of men, he smiled and talked about how glad they would be when the power came back on because they were going to have to dig and carry all sorts of things for the next few days. To groups with women or young children, he dropped his tone and looked wistful as he wondered what would happen if it lasted more than a day or two. He waited for them to get a little concerned at his questions and then reassured them it would be okay.
He was preparing people, and he wasn’t scaring them. He was just letting them know it would get tougher, but we, as a community, would find our way out of this tough spot.
I had to get him together with Ted. If Luke Carter could take the instruction and information and spread it in the way he was working this impromptu cookout, then we may not face any panicked people at all.
After eating a few bites, I realized I was very hungry. I had not eaten since breakfast and it had been a long day. I felt guilty eating food others had brought, especially considering how little food there might be in the future, but everyone encouraged me to try a bit of everything. None of the food would be good past morning, anyway. There was no way to keep it.
So I ate. Food Lexi would have forbidden me was piled onto my plate. I knew I might be sick in the morning, but I kept eating.
As I sat in the grass and looked around, I could see many of the children headed back to their parents. Toddlers and babies were already asleep, and those that were shy of their teen years were staying awake through sheer willpower. Most of the adults were yawning and looking up at the unnaturally bright sky.
“Come on, Davey.”
I turned to see Dad motion me to the house. Mom stood in the doorway. She stared at the sky in wonder.
I stood and was surprised to see Luke Carter head toward the front door as well.
When I entered the house, Luke was sitting at the dining room table along with my parents.
“Where is Doris?” Mom asked him.
“She went down to Houston to see her brother. He’s not doing well. He got that cancer again, and this time the radiation ain’t working like last time.”
“Oh my,” Mom said. “I hope he won’t be in much pain.”
“Me too,” Luke said.
“When are you expecting her back?” Dad asked.
“Tomorrow morning. Though she said she might stay another day. If she shows up tomorrow, we’ll know that this,” he waved his hand skyward, “didn’t get all the way down to Houston.”
“Why are all the lights out, Pat?” Mom asked. She had a look of mild confusion on her face,
“We are having a blackout, Dear. It might be out for a couple of days.”
“Oh. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I have been tired all day. Is there anything I can fix for ya’ll to eat?”
Luke cocked his head to the side as if considering. “I think I ate enough of your food tonight, Abbey. I’m afraid if you fix me anything else, I’ll explode.”
“That’s good, Luke. I never want you to go hungry. I think I’ll go check on Doris. Is she still in the restroom?”
“I don’t think so, Abbey. Maybe you can just sit and rest. When she gets here, I’ll send her into the living room.”
“Oh, I have too much to do to be sitting all night,” Mom said to Luke with a shake of her head. “And besides, I think Doris is still in Houston.”
Luke scratched his thick beard the way he always did when he was worried about something.
“You’re right, Abbey,” Dad said. “Luke was just telling us about Doris’ trip to Houston. Remember the water is off.”
Mom was putting dishes into the sink as Dad was talking to her. When he mentioned the water was off she spun around.
“I remember! Do you think I don’t?”
I had a clear recollection of Mom yelling at me that way when I was a teenager. I never expected to hear her yell at Dad that way.
“I know you remember,” he said. “I was just thinking out loud.”
“Well maybe you should keep those damn thoughts to yourself!”
She slammed the plate she was holding onto the countertop and turned and walked out of the room. The door to their bedroom slammed shut a few seconds later.
“Sorry about that, Luke,” Dad said softly.
“No worries, Pat. I watched my mother go through it. Was not happy to hear her swear, though. Mom didn’t swear until she was starting to get real bad.”
“It started a few weeks ago. She cursed me up a blue streak when I asked for butter for the toast. Haven’t heard that kind of talk since I was in the Navy.”
I sat at the table and didn’t say anything. I tried hard not to think about Mom slipping away, but Dad and Luke talking about it openly made it seem real in a way I hadn’t dealt with before.
“Davey, sorry. I can see this is upsetting you,” Dad said. “Let’s talk about what we are going to need to do about this disruption to our lives.”
“Folks are going to die, you know,” Luke said.
“I know,” Dad replied. “That’s another reason we need the wood ash.”
“Graves,” I muttered. “We need to line the graves with ashes because we can’t embalm the bodies.”
“A layer below and a layer above,” Luke said. “We dig down deep enough to bury them proper and we run the risk of contaminating the ground water. Same with the privies.”
“How many privies will we need to dig?” I asked.
Luke and Dad both leaned back in their chair.
“Maybe one for every eight people,” Dad said.
Luke closed his eyes tight and scratched his beard again. “We got about three thousand people in town. Maybe another five hundred that will make their way in. So maybe four hundred privies. That won’t be a one day job.”
“How deep do they have to be?” I asked.
“Normally six feet,” Dad said. “But for now, we could dig them three feet for the next couple of days and then set about getting the six footers dug.”
“I take it you are seeing this thing last more than a couple of weeks,” Luke said. It seemed a question, but one he had answered while asking.
Dad nodded and looked at me.
“What did Ted say, Davey? Did he give any indication about what’s happening?”
“Solar flare from last night is what he believes happened,” I said.
Luke grunted. “Good. Would hate to think someone would have been stupid enough to hit us with a weapon.”
Dad shook his head. “No, not good, Luke. If it were a weapon, it would be fairly localized. I suspect most of the world got hit with the effects. I wonder how far south people can see those lights. If the flare was big enough, it might have lit up the whole world.”
“How long do you think it will last?” I asked.
“Not sure,” Dad said. “Don’t really know why it’s happening.”
“Enjoy it tonight,” Luke said. “Last night, the weatherman out of Poplar Bluff said we have a storm front heading our way in the next couple of days. Clouds will make tomorrow night darker than most people are used to.”
“So what do we do now?” I asked. I didn’t really expect an answer.
“Listen to Ted,” Luke said. “He’s probably planned all of this out. I suspect he and Lester Collins both have a year’s worth of food and water stockpiled for themselves. Surprised Ted came into town to help, to be honest. Folks always treated him quite unkindly anytime he started talking about emergency planning.”
“Chicken Little is what most people said about him and Lester. Always saying the sky was going to fall and they were going to be ready when it did,” Dad added.
“I guess th
ey were right,” I said. I tried to sound as sagely as both of the gray haired men I was sitting with. I think I succeeded because both of them nodded as they looked down at their hands.
“I guess the first thing we need to do is get the wells and privies taken care of,” Luke said after a little silence. “Then we need to worry about food.”
“Yeah, I figure we have probably three or four days per family in the cupboards and pantries around here,” Dad said.
“What about any stores? They must have some.”
“Nope, they shut up the market a few years back. And even so, they would only have a day or two worth for three thousand mouths,” Luke said.
“Stews and soups for a while,” said Dad. “We will need to stretch what we have as far as we can.”
“How fast can we grow food?” I asked. “Like beans and corn?”
“Not sure. How about it, Luke? Can we grow food fast enough?” Dad asked.
“Onions, radishes maybe. Lettuce grows pretty quick, I think. We can start seeing what vegetable seeds people have.”
“Anyone with a big garden?” I asked.
“Milton,” Dad said. “He sells crops at the farmer’s market in West Plains all the time. His garden runs five acres or so.”
“It won’t be enough to feed the town,” Luke said.
“No, but he’ll have plenty of seeds,” I said.
Luke nodded. “And he’ll know what crops we can start growing and in what order.”
“It’s getting late,” Dad said as he yawned. “I did more physical work today than I have in a long time. I need to get to sleep.”
“Mind if I crash on your couch?” Luke asked. “I’m pretty tired too and my house is a good mile away.”
“Go ahead,” Dad answered. “We are supposed to meet the others here tomorrow morning, might as well already be here.”
I stood and stretched. “I may not have reopened wells today, but I am tired just the same.”
“Night, Davey. I’m going to help Luke get settled in and will be back in a bit.”
I walked down the hall towards my old bedroom. The glowing sky cast odd shadows as I walked down a path I had taken hundreds of times. Even in the pitch black, I would have been able to traverse the way with no problems, but the shimmering light with a pale greenish hue, seemed to disorient me.
Once in the room I closed the door and sat on the bed. As I took off my shoes, my eyes fell on my old desk. The top was arranged with several pieces of high school memorabilia. The tassel from my graduation cap hung on the corner of a framed picture of my senior photo. I always carried a pack of gum in my front shirt pocket and… my pocket watch.
I stood and opened the top drawer of the desk. Inside was a jumble of items, most of which I never remembered owning. But near the bottom of that pile was a pocket watch. Or should be.
I rooted around until I found it. It was a simple pocket watch. My grandfather had bought it for me when I was ten years old. I carried it with me until I went to college.
I pressed the button that opened the case. Inside was a photo of me and my grandfather on my tenth birthday. He passed away of a heart attack two weeks after that day. It’s why the watch had meant so much to me.
How many years had it been since I had thought about him for more than a passing moment? How many years had it been since I felt the sadness I remembered as a child for his passing?
I pulled out on the button a bit and wound the watch. As I was still winding, I heard the comforting sound of the watch start running. The mechanical aspect of the watch was affected by the EMP as much as a hinge on a door was.
I smiled as I realized what we needed to do was focus on what still worked and not despair over what didn’t. If I could keep accurate time by winding a watch, what else could we do if we just stepped back a few decades and did things as they used to be done?
I undressed for bed as I considered that. For all of the concern and uncertainty, my dad and his friends got things accomplished today. They may have been worried, but they did more than worry. They did something. I feared my generation and the ones that followed liked to talk about what we would do, or should do, but we rarely did anything.
I finished winding the watch and set it on the desk. Sleep beckoned to me and I undressed and slipped under the covers. A few minutes later I heard my dad walk down the hallway and go into his bedroom.
I lay there and listened to the sounds around me. The sound of my dad moving about in his room. Luke trying to get comfortable in the living room. I listened for the sounds of the animals, but there were none. Last night the lights caused them to go wild. Tonight it seemed as if the animals felt too tired to make noise. It was quiet except for the ticking of my watch.
I drifted off considering that. A small sound in a quiet place grows in volume, it seems. The sound brought back memories of my grandfather. And then thoughts of Lexi and Emma. I had tried not to think of them all day. I hoped they were alright. I prayed somehow Chicago was spared this event. I knew there was nothing I could do, so I tried not to worry about them.
I drifted asleep trying not to worry. My dreams took me to them. I saw my greatest hopes and my greatest fears for them played out. And I walked and talked with my grandfather.
Chapter 6
I woke the next morning to the smell of bacon and coffee. It took me a few minutes to orient myself to where I was and what had happened.
Emma and Lexi had been in my dreams. They were calling for help, but I couldn’t find them.
Tears welled up in my eyes as the emotions of the dreams still lingered. After a quick prayer for their safety, I rolled out of bed and got dressed.
I needed a shower, but knew that wasn’t going to happen, so I made my way into the kitchen and waved at Dad. He was flipping through a notebook when I came in. Mom was cooking at the stove. I wasn’t sure how much liquid propane was in the old tank out back, but I was grateful Mom still had the ability to make breakfast for us.
“David,” Mom said as I approached the table. “I have eggs and bacon and some hash browns. I’ll get you some coffee, but it will have to be black. We don’t have any milk, but that’s probably for the best as the refrigerator isn’t working.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said as I sat at the table.
“If you need to wash up, I have a couple of five gallon buckets of water in the garage,” Dad said as Mom put my breakfast in front of me.
“Where did you get those?” I asked.
“Well, not all of us sleep in past dawn,” Dad said with a smile. “I went and got water from the well.”
“You carried a five gallon bucket of water across the street?” I asked.
Dad sniffed. “It’s not that heavy.”
“Dad. Look at me.”
He sighed and looked up from his papers.
I sat my fork down and tried to look at him like he was Emma. “You know the doctors said you were to not to be moving things more than twenty pounds. I realize you probably did a lot of digging and moving of things yesterday you weren’t supposed to, but I don’t want to hear of any more of that kind of activity.”
“Okay, Pops,” Dad said.
His mockery cut a bit, but I knew he needed to be told he was being watched.
“Five gallons of water is close to forty pounds, and you know that.”
“That’s why I only carried one bucket at a time.”
“Well now you need to only carry a gallon at a time, or wait for me to get the water.”
“David,” Mom said. “He was only doing what he thought he should.”
“I’m sorry, Dad. And I know, Mom. I’m just concerned.”
“Shush,” Dad said as he looked at me with a sharp expression.
“Pat, don’t talk to David like that.”
Dad held his finger up to his lips as a sign she should be quiet as well.
I was irritated at his refusal to listen to me, but then I realized he was listening to something else. When I realized what it was
, I jumped to my feet and ran to the front door. Dad was just a step behind me.
When I pulled open the door, the sound was clear and distinct. Someone was using a motorized weed trimmer.
“It’s Bill Jenner,” Dad said. “He is out trimming his house. Look.”
I looked to where Dad pointed and saw a rotund, balding man holding a weed whacker, trimming the weeds from around a bush near the side of his house.
As if drawn to the sound, I started walking toward Bill Jenner’s house, three lots over. I noticed there were others outside of their houses beyond the spectacle. Because Bill was on our side of his house, the others were looking around in astonishment.
As I walked toward Jenner and his amazing activity, I noticed two horses were headed my way down Granger. Anne would be here soon with both of her horses, but I had to find out what was happening.
I looked behind me and the Johnson’s were out of their house looking our way. Sarah had her phone out and looked at it with a furious visage. I guess she thought if one machine was working, the rest had to be as well.
Bill looked over his shoulder as we approached. I could see by his blood-shot eyes and sallow complexion he wasn’t feeling real well that morning. He was sweating more than even a heavy man should on a cool April morning. He was hung-over.
Dad and I stopped at the edge of his lawn and just watched him. Soon, a small crowd of people were gathered around. No one spoke. We were mesmerized by the sound and sight of a machine working.
Bill worked around the back of his house and then up the other side. All the while, a crowd of people lined his yard in the front. He took glances over at the crowd occasionally, but kept about his work.
Finally he was done and he turned off the trimmer. The spell was broken and people started talking. Some took out their phones, like Sarah had, and started trying to turn them on. It disturbed me a little that so many people were so attached to their phones that they still had them in their pockets two days after they had becomes useless chunks of plastic and metal. Maybe they held hope that somehow this situation would just resolve itself.