The Last Tribe

by Brad Manuel

  As they rounded the corner to go up the stairs they saw a bank of windows. Greg and Rebecca beamed their flashlights into the darkness.

  “It’s a kitchen. Weird, why would it be in the basement?” Greg shook his head in confusion.

  They walked up the steps to the side door. There was a storm door which opened, but the knob on the inside door was locked.

  They went back down the stairs and looked into the basement again. The windows were above a counter. Greg tried to slide each of the windows open.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to try the front door first?” Rebecca asked.

  “We’re here.” Greg responded with a grunt as he pushed up on the second window. It slid open with a creak. “So why not try?”

  Hanover was a safe town with almost no crime. The window was left unlocked in perpetuity as a way for the occupants to get into the house when locked out.

  “Do you want to go in first?” Greg offered.

  “I’m good. You go ahead.” Rebecca wanted Greg to go in first.

  He slid onto the counter, jumped down, and helped her do the same. Greg opened a door next to the counter and saw a half bathroom. The long kitchen stretched out before them. A swinging door at the end of the room was open and they could see the dark rooms on the other side. A windowless door, similar to the one on the outside of the house, was in the middle of the right wall.

  “Is this the windowless door on the outside that was locked?” Rebecca asked. She walked over and turned the knob. The door exposed a dark room.

  “Jackpot!” She said happily. “It’s a firewood room, and it’s stocked. How sweet is this? You can load it from the door on the other side, and wood stays dry in here. We won’t have to go outside in the snow to get wood. I bet we have enough for a long time, not all winter, but if we get snowed in, it’s enough for a month, maybe more.” Rebecca did not realize it was an old coal storage room with separate access for the coal truck and the homeowner. The room was converted into wood storage to service the multiple fireplaces and woodstove.

  “I guess we know they have at least one wood burning fireplace.” Rebecca concluded from the storage room.

  “Hey yeah, that’s right.” Greg replied.

  They walked out of the kitchen and into a large room in the center of the basement. There was a second room straight ahead, and a corridor to the right that led to the backdoor. Rebecca walked down the corridor and unlocked the door before joining Greg in main room. The floor was tiled and did not contain furniture. The only light came from the kitchen behind them and windows on the back of the house. The wall on the front of the house had no windows. There were two doors leading off the room. Greg and Rebecca opened both and shined their lights. Each room was filled with boilers, hot water heaters, furnaces, and other mechanical devices. The rooms and equipment were worthless.

  The far room was carpeted and had several sectional couches. There was a large television mounted on a wall. The sectionals faced the television in a “U” formation.

  “I bet this is an entertaining floor, and that is not the main kitchen. They must have parties on the back porch and in the yard, and they use this entire basement as indoor party prep and hosting.” Rebecca concluded. “Other than the wood room, this floor is useless to us. No fireplaces, no way to heat it. It will be nice and cool in the summer, but impossible to work with in the winter.”

  “Okay, let’s move upstairs.” Greg responded. He agreed with her assessment. This floor was not suitable for their needs. He wondered if the entire house was too big for them. It would take too much wood to heat, and appeared to be built for entertaining more than living through a tough winter without electricity and gas.

  A set of stairs led to the main level. A window at the top led their way up and around a corner. There was a door at the top the stairs allowing the basement to be closed off from the rest of the house. On the other side of the door was a small landing with a half bath. Another four stairs led to the main foyer. It was a large room at the center of the house, similar to the large empty room in the basement. The entry room was designed for entertaining more than living. Straight in front of them was the front door. Rebecca unlocked the door as Greg opened a door to a small room on the right. It was a study or den. The small room had a fireplace.

  An open arch to the right led into a formal living room. A similar archway on the left displayed the dining room with table and chairs. An open swinging door showed the main kitchen.

  Greg pointed down the formal living room, “there is a fireplace, but it’s not useful. The room is too big.” The first floor was bright from windows. “The windows probably lose a lot of heat. This house is old, but I don’t think it was pre-coal furnace. They obviously didn’t rely on fireplaces to keep warm.”

  Rebecca nodded in agreement. She walked through the living room to a door she noticed in the far corner. It led to the sunroom visible from the back yard. Rebecca did not open the door, but noticed a woodstove.

  “It’s like this house has elements of what we need, but its size disqualifies it. There’s a woodstove, but it’s outside, or basically outside. We can’t waste wood to cook on it.”

  She looked at the sun through a large bay window in the living room. “We don’t have much daylight. This is our house for now. We make it work until we find something better. We can put the chickens in the garage, leave the cages for them to sleep in with hay, water, whatever. Let’s get a fire going in the little room, plan on sleeping in there tonight. We will use the fireplace cooking tools.”

  “There has to be something better.” Greg told her.

  “Well it’s after one thirty, Greg. We have a couple of hours of work no matter what house we find, and I don’t want to work in the dark. We have to get the chickens settled, a fire started, food cooked, beds made. One night or a week here won’t kill us.” She stood at the doorway to the study.

  “Let’s move the furniture out, the study furniture anyway, the desk, cabinets, etc… We can leave the chairs. I’m going upstairs to find twin mattresses we can pull in for the evening. I don’t mind sleeping on the rug for one night, but I’d prefer a mattress or a couch. I doubt two couches will fit in here. We can lean the mattresses against the wall during the day.”

  Rebecca worked the equation in her mind. They could make the house and room livable. They had to for at least one night.

  “I vote to keep looking for a different house. We should stay near the pond. We’ll give the chickens air while we walk around to see if we can find a smaller home.”

  Rebecca moved books and papers off the desk into a chair, placing a desk lamp on top. She rolled the desk chair passed him.

  “I know you’re disappointed. I know you want to look, but today is done. I’m exhausted from driving. We’ve already lost a chicken. We can’t risk getting caught in the dark without a fire, beds, and food. This will be fine if we move things out and find mattresses.” She left the chair in the dining room across the foyer. “Can you check the garage? Maybe grab some wood from the basement? I want this room toasty, and I want the chickens out of the cages.”

  Greg did not move.

  Rebecca walked through the foyer to a large set of stairs leading to the second floor.

  “Hey, let’s move.” She clapped her hands. “Grab me a power bar or pop tart or something too. I’m starved. We have plenty of time to get our work done, but not if you are going to stand there.” She went up the stairs.

  Greg nodded absently. “This house sucks.” He said under his breath. “I brought Rebecca up here for nothing. My family is dead. We are further north. Damn it.”

  He heard a commotion before a mattress appeared out of nowhere and landed at the bottom of the stairs. Rebecca threw a twin mattress over the top railing of the stairs.

  “Grab that, will you?” She yelled from the second floor. She paused. “Greg?”

  “Yeah, I got it. And then I’ll be outside with the chickens.”

  Greg pulled the mat
tress off the stairs and into the study. He moped out the front door towards the van and chickens. This was not how he envisioned his arrival in Hanover. He expected to find his family. He expected the house to be perfect for surviving a New England winter. None of his hopes were becoming a reality. “And I brought Rebecca up here.” He kept muttering.

  Greg focused on his work. He broke into the locked garage by kicking the flimsy door. It made him feel better to kick and break something. A sedan was parked in one side of the garage, but the other side was an open bay and gave the chickens plenty of space. He donned his oven mitts and carried the chickens to their temporary home. He spread feed on the ground, filled their water dish, gave them freshly shredded paper, and shut the broken door.

  Rebecca packed several ‘day bags’ as she called them. She had a grocery bag with three days of food and essential items like a pot, paper plates, plastic ware, soups, crackers, and tea bags. She did not want to waste precious time searching for things they needed the first night. She packed a quick bag of clothes, sleeping essentials, and additional snacks. Greg grabbed the overnight supplies, fatwood kindling to start a fire, and walked back towards the front door.

  Rebecca pulled the desk a few inches at a time out of the study and towards the dining room. There was a second mattress at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Did you get the wood?” She asked.

  “Geesh, give me a minute. I’ve done everything else.” He set the bags on the ground and helped her with the desk.

  At 4:30 the sun was behind the mountains surrounding Hanover, and daylight was fading. The temporary study was set up. The fire cast warmth and light throughout the small room. Unlike the Concord house, where the living room was too large to adequately heat with a single fireplace, the small study was toasty.

  “I like it in here.” Rebecca said. “It’s not perfect, but it’s cozy.” She sat in one of the lounge chairs they placed next to the fire. A warm mug of soup rested between her hands. She sipped the broth before eating the noodles, chicken, and vegetables.

  “I’m sorry I brought you up here.” Greg told her. “This was a mistake. I don’t know why I thought they were alive. You’re right, I’m being stupid, and I’m taking risks with both of our lives.”

  “Alive or not, I did not expect your family to be here. Your younger brother?”

  “Craig.”

  “This may sound harsh, but your father can’t risk his own life, your older brother’s life, and the life of a young boy. Coming up here for the winter? Getting stuck in a snow storm in New York or Boston? It’s too risky. He told you he’d be up in the spring because it’s the safest time to travel. Sit tight, Greg Dixon. We’ll figure out where to live. Keep believing in your family, and I’ll keep us alive.”

  “I believe you.” Greg said softly.

  “You believe they’re alive?” She asked.

  “No. I believe you can keep me alive.” He reached out and touched her hand. “Thank you.”

  Rebecca felt her face grow hot as she held Greg’s hand. She hoped her palm was not too sweaty. They sat by the fire silently until she let go of his hand and went to her mattress to go to sleep.

  20

  “What’s a coach house?” Rebecca asked. “Is that another made up Greg expression like catty corner?”

  “No, Ms. ‘I grew up in a subdivision.’ A coach house is a small house behind a larger residence, used for servants or guests. I bet we can find one around here that has a fireplace or even a woodstove. Coach houses are one room with maybe a separate bedroom. It would be tiny. We could heat it with fire.”

  “Lead the way.” Rebecca said.

  “Should we call this day one or day two in Hanover? I feel like this is day two, but we started in Concord yesterday.” Greg made idle chatter as they walked down Choate road towards the pond at the end of the street.

  “Day two, definitely day two.” She told him. “I hope our chickens make it to day three.” She found two more dead chickens when she tried to collect eggs that morning. Her coop of ten was down to seven. She consoled Greg by telling him she expected the chickens to die during the winter anyway. It was a white lie. Greg was depressed enough about not finding his family and the failed house. He did not need to feel responsible for dead chickens.

  They stood at the end of the street and looked towards both sides of the water. There were houses on the right side of the pond but none on the left. Houses on the left side were across a street and up a hill. It was a large pond, probably 300 or 400 yards from top to bottom and 150 yards across.

  “I want to live on the water if possible, not across the street.” Greg pointed right and they walked towards the homes with direct pond access.

  They arrived at the previously discussed catty corner. Town was to the right, the medical school was in front of them, and a road named “Rope Ferry,” stretched off to their left. Greg and Rebecca turned left and walked towards the first house.

  The first two homes they entered were remodeled with large rooms, high ceilings, and open concepts. The houses were not designed for life without central heating or electricity.

  “I doubt any of these houses are going to work. That last one had gas fireplaces.” Rebecca was not worried, but three houses into their search, she was frustrated.

  Each house took them a little over a half hour to search. They had to find a way into the house, check for a corpse smell, walk around and talk about the positives and negatives. Rebecca searched the kitchens for food, placing supplies in boxes or bags at the now unlocked doors for retrieval later in the week or month.

  The experience might have been enjoyable were it not a search for life and death accommodations.

  “We have to keep looking. Are you warm enough? Do you want to stop and rest?” Greg pulled a cereal bar from his pocket. One of many they found in the last home.

  “I’m fine.” She told him. “Let’s push forward.”

  At 3:00pm they were back in the Choate road study holding their hands by the fire trying to gain feeling back in their fingers and toes.

  “Maybe we should take a break tomorrow. Check out the town for supplies. See if there is food.” Rebecca did not want to discuss their failed day.

  “I need to focus on the positives.” Greg told her. “We are safe and warm. We found another few months of food. You found that couch.”

  “That couch is awesome.” Rebecca agreed.

  “We can survive in here, store food in the living room, thaw snow for water. If we need it to, this study will keep us alive. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I’ll admit it was more than this tiny room.”

  “I wasn’t.” She told him. “Did you see where I was living in Concord? This is a step up, not because it is nicer, but because it is smaller and will heat from the single fireplace. It’s going to get cold in here, but we can keep it above freezing, maybe keep it in the 60’s with the fire. You’re right, the rest of the house is useless for living, but it’s great storage. We can put wood in the dining room or downstairs, out of the snow and wind. We can live through the winter here, but,” she smiled. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to upgrade.”

  “I feel like I should keep apologizing to you. The chickens are dying. We are further north and a few degrees colder. I really screwed up.”

  “Stop it. Just stop it, Greg.” Rebecca’s voice was stern. “Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. I made the decision to leave Concord and come to Hanover. I know we will make it through the winter. We will see if your family is alive, and we’ll make decisions based on that information. You did not bring me up here against my will. We are a team. Do not apologize to me again.”

  “It’s just, you had…”

  “I had what? A house I couldn’t heat? I was alone? I ate soup and cereal? We’re fine, and we’ll make whatever we need to work. I’m done talking about coming to Hanover as a mistake. Stop apologizing and stop whining.”

  Greg cracked a smile. �
�I didn’t think I was whining.”

  “Well you are. Whining does us no good. If there is one thing I hate more than anything, it’s whining. Tomorrow we walk into town, we go to the local real estate offices and look for a house that will work for us. We look for listing with woodstoves. We look for green homes with solar power. We take control.” She finished her soup with a slurp. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed. When you wake up tomorrow, I want you ready to work and with a better attitude, Greg Dixon.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Greg replied. “I’m,” he stopped himself and lowered his head, still smiling. “Rebecca, it’s three in the afternoon.” Greg began to laugh. “It’s a little early to call it a night.”

  Greg’s eyes opened when the study door shut. Rebecca returned from feeding the chickens.

  “Something tried to get into the garage and eat our chickens.” She told him. “Maybe a fox or a fisher cat.”

  “What’s a fisher cat?” He asked.

  “A marten.”

  “Like a bird? A bird tried to eat our chickens?”

  “That’s a martin with an i, this is a marten with an e. It’s like a badger or weasel, and it’s after our egg source.” She removed her coat. “It didn’t get in, but there were scratches on the door and concrete floor.”

  “Can we catch and eat them, these martens?” Greg asked. “We could use some meat.”

  “I guess. We can read about them in the library. I would assume, since they are coming after our chickens, we can set a trap for whatever it is.” She stood by the fire. “I like your new attitude.”

  “Let’s eat and walk into town.” He said as he sat up on his mattress.

  The real estate office was a useless exercise and took up the entire morning. They accepted defeat and walked slowly to their house for lunch.