The Last Tribe

by Brad Manuel

  “Alright, you know I like a plan. Let’s eat and head over to LL Bean. I get to go shopping again! Let’s think about getting a smaller car or SUV too. The van is good for this trip in case we want a canoe for the pond. I might grab a bike as long as we have the trunk available.”

  “Don’t we have to pay for things for it to be shopping? I mean, technically speaking? Aren’t we just going to a place to pick stuff up more than shopping?”

  “You call it what you want, I’ll call it what I want.” She smiled at him as she poured syrup on her French toast.

  The house was coming together nicely. They had a table in the kitchen to enjoy meals in the warmth of the woodstove. There was no running water but the kitchen had a large sink with a drain running to the outside. Rebecca set a small rain barrel on the counter next to the sink basin. As long as the barrel was more than a quarter filled with water, there was decent pressure out of the spigot to wash dishes and hands.

  They dressed warmly for the brisk 26 degree temperature outside. Rebecca drove the van towards town so they could take an inventory of the specific stores and supplies available within walking distance. They also wanted to see if initial appearances were true, and the town was intact, as their first view of the pristine town might have been inaccurate.

  Greg knew there was a back road to the shopping malls in West Lebanon, but he was not positive he could remember it. He wanted to drive through town before turning around and taking the highway they knew to the malls.

  “Let’s drive down Main Street before we jump on the highway.” Greg asked. “I want to see how the town looks, maybe head over to the grocery store to see if they have any food.”

  They drove through the center of town. It was abandoned and peaceful. All the store windows were intact, and some of the window displays were still up. “This joke might be lost on you, but this is the first time I’ve been in Hanover when I could get a parking spot.” Greg laughed to himself, thinking of the endless circles his grandfather made in search of a parking spot in town.

  “It was usually busy? It seems like such a sleepy little town.”

  “You have no idea. In the summer? You had all these college students, tourists, locals, all crowding the streets. There were kids our age, there were retired people. It was just people upon people. Then, the funny thing, there would be these random smelly hikers. The Appalachian trail is right around here. These smelly people with beards and nasty clothes would be sitting around talking to each other, right in the middle of town.” Greg’s thoughts of Hanover were fond, and driving down Main reminded him of his Grandparents. They both passed two years ago. “It was a great place to visit.”

  Greg kept talking as they drove. “We would come up for a week or two, spend it at my grandparents lake cottage, fish, boat, and swim the entire time. We’d come into town and go to lunch or dinner, and sometimes we’d come during town events, like the Fourth of July. There would be a parade and activities on that square field. The one we passed before hitting town, it’s called ‘The Green.’”

  “That sounds fun.” Rebecca said, acknowledging Greg as he continued.

  “I was always bored when my mom would make us go on her cultural tours. We spent a day at this cow farm over in Vermont, it was like 100 years old or something like that. They had milking cows, chickens, lots of animals. It was fun for a little while, but you know, when you’re a kid, that stuff gets boring pretty fast.” He looked up towards the sky. “Who knew that my mom would save my life with her boring tours. Finding Webster Cottage is all thanks to her, like she was looking out for me.” He continued looking up. “Thanks, Mom.” He smiled as he said it, thinking of her, how much he missed her, and how much he loved her when they were together.

  Greg was not paying attention, he was too caught up in his thoughts. He did not tell Rebecca to turn around before leaving town. They were five minutes outside of Hanover when Greg realized his mistake.

  “Oh wow, I’m sorry. We were supposed to turn, like, way back there.” He looked around and saw they were entering the town of West Lebanon.

  “Well, where are we? This is your area, Greg.” Rebecca did not mind an adventure, and they could hardly get lost if they stayed on the same road.

  “You know what? This is Lebanon or West Lebanon, I’m not really sure of the difference. We are going to come to a Dunkin’ Donuts at a fork in the road. Take the right fork and we’ll run right into LL Bean and West Lebanon. This is the back way I didn’t think I knew.”

  They drove down Main Street in West Lebanon, a straight road with businesses on either side. The town was looted, most of the shop windows were broken. One of the stores, “The Paint Barn,” was burned out. Black smoke stains clung to the side of the building around the front doors and broken windows.

  “What the heck? I haven’t seen this anywhere else. I don’t have a lot to compare it to, but I did walk by a few towns between Hightower and Concord. The State Liquor Store was looted for booze, but it wasn’t ruined.” Greg worried about the stores in West Lebanon.

  “This was vandalism, not looting. Look at the spray painting on the Paint Barn. It’s punks who did it, not looters. Who loots a paint store during an epidemic?” Rebecca pointed to the black words scarring the side of the building.

  The Lebanon library was on their left, it too was covered in symbols and words. Its front doors were broken.

  “I heard about towns like this on the radio.” Rebecca continued. “If the police got sick, and no one was there to stand in for authority? The bad influences took control. There was some bad stuff going on all around New England. People realized there were no repercussions for their behavior. It got ugly, quickly. Not a lot of places, but some. This part of Lebanon went to the mobs.”

  They did not see a sign of life. Despite the destruction, they could tell no one had been around for months. Leaves covered the ground, unmoved except for animal tracks.

  They arrived at the Dunkin Donuts and a fork in the road. The donut shop was untouched by the violence. “I guess even mobs have their rules. Don’t mess with the donuts.” Rebecca said, surprised that one store would survive above all the others.

  “Should we make a joke about how all the police were probably at the donut shop, and that’s why it survived?” Greg laughed at this own joke with a loud chuckle.

  “Nice.” Rebecca complimented. “Nice.”

  The turned right and headed towards the big box stores. Greg wanted to visit the high end indoor mall.

  “Up there, on the left, that’s the LL Bean and sporting goods store.” He turned his head to examine this area of West Lebanon. “Everything looks fine here. I bet the police drew a line in the sand at the Dunkin’ Donuts. Maybe they decided these stores were more valuable. There are two groceries over here. Food must have been a priority.” Greg was pleased to see this part of town was not burned to the ground.

  Rebecca became more animated when she pulled into the indoor mall. “I love LL Bean. There was an outlet in Concord. You could buy monogrammed stuff that people sent back, so if you didn’t mind having someone else’s initials on your luggage or backpack, you got a sweet deal. It was the best store.”

  They parked by the mall and got out of the van. Greg walked up and tried the entrance door. It was unlocked. He held it open for Rebecca, and followed her inside. LL Bean was the first store, anchoring the mall on one end. Eastern Mountain Sports anchored the other. The roof of the mall was glass, sunlight shone brightly throughout the mall.

  “Brrr” Rebecca said as she rubbed her hands on her arms. ““I bet it’s five degrees colder inside than out. I’m not sure how long I’ll last shopping in here.”

  “I agree. Let’s make quick work of this place.” They tried the doors at the LL Bean store. They were locked. Greg went outside and picked up a large rock from the stream that ran next to the mall. He came back inside and threw the 15 pound stone through the glass door. “Don’t call the police.” He said to Rebecca as he kicked the jagged g
lass away from the frame.

  “Don’t worry, one of my uncles was a cop. I can get us leniency.” She stepped through the gap left by the rock. “We have a very large van. Whatever you want, take. I’m getting several sets of flannel sheets, and a whole bunch of snow pants. I’m not saying this is our last trip to West Lebanon, but if it snows later today or tonight, this might be our last trip to West Lebanon.”

  Greg went to the clothing section to find pants and shirts. He carried a large black plastic trash bag and began stuffing underwear, shorts for next season, hats, gloves, anything and everything he could think of for winter into the bag as he walked by the circular racks. He made two trips to the van with four bags full of clothes before he found the camping section.

  Greg stopped dead in his tracks. Set up as a display was the most beautiful thing he had seen in months, a portable camping bathtub. The red canvas frame folded out like a baby crib with strong aluminum cross bar supports. The tub was six feet long, three feet wide and three feet deep. A plastic drain opened at the bottom, perfect for their house with no running water. He could set it up in the dining room, kitchen, or their bedroom next to a fire.

  Greg checked to see if Rebecca had seen the bathtub. She was busy on the second floor of the store walking through the women’s clothes. He folded the tub and ran it out to the van. He put his clothes and new sleeping bag over the tub. He wanted to surprise Rebecca later that day.

  He jogged back inside, passing Rebecca on her way out with an armload of clothes. “I love this store, I really do. It’s awesome.”

  Greg went back to the camping area, grabbing four pair of snow shoes and walking poles. On his fourth trip into the store he found another key item, a shotgun, a one hundredth year L.L. Bean anniversary shotgun on display in a wood and glass case. He broke the display case with one of the snow axes nearby and picked up the gun. It was heavy, but perfect for hunting or defense. He went back to the van with the shotgun, the snow axe, and used his free arm to grab a handful of lanterns.

  “I’m going to drop this stuff in the van and head down to the other sporting goods store. You staying here, or do you want to come?” Greg called to Rebecca.

  She poked her head over the railing. “Did you get boots? We need good snow footwear. We should get all the available sizes.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I did. I also put several pair of snowshoes in the van. We’ll need them along with the boots.”

  “Okay, let’s see if the other store has a better bike selection, and I want to find a smaller canoe, one I can handle on my own.”

  “You are a picky shopper, aren’t you?” He said back to her. She scrunched up her face with a smile that told him “whatever.”

  They walked down the center of the empty mall looking at the shops. They stopped at a novelty store and loaded up on board games. The candy shop provided a quick snack of pre-packaged Belgium chocolate.

  “Look at these stores, handbags, jewelry. None of this has value anymore. And look how cute that purse is! “ Rebecca sighed as she walked to the store window. “I can finally get one of those expensive bags, and they aren’t worth anything now. “

  Greg looked at her. “Yeah, life can be cruel, you survive a plague, only to be cursed with unnecessary accessories. What a world.”

  She scrunched her face at him again.

  Eastern Mountain Sports had a better bike selection and a smaller canoe. It also had better sunglasses, which Greg took full advantage. “I love sunglasses. I could never afford them, or more than one pair, but I coveted all these sunglasses. Unlike your purse, these still have value. I win again!” He smiled as he put a pair on his face, the tag hanging down his nose.

  They spent almost two hours shopping in the stores. They wanted to get home to eat lunch and unpack their haul before it got dark. Greg looked at the sky as they loaded the canoe into the truck. “It’s going to rain or snow, look at the black clouds coming over the mountains. Let’s go through a few more stores and call it a day.”

  “We have to go to Home Depot or the hardware store to find the window sealers. I’m glad we have all these lanterns, because Home Depot and Walmart typically do not have windows. You want to go to those two stores and leave?”

  “Sure.” Greg replied. “There’s a hunting store up here too. I want to see if I can get some shotgun shells for the shotgun I found.”

  “You got a gun? For what?”

  “Thanksgiving is coming. I owe you a turkey.”

  “Okay, whatever, like you are going to be able to bag a turkey. I don’t like guns. You’re more likely to shoot your foot off.” Rebecca frowned.

  “I’ll be fine.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll just run into the store and grab what I need.” He pulled down the backdoor of the van before walking to the passenger’s side. Before he did, he walked to the sidewalk and picked up a large stone from the river, similar to the one he used to break the LL Bean entrance. He put the rock next to him on the bench seat. “I can’t forget the key to these stores.”

  Rebecca drove down the road and turned into a strip mall, one of many that filled West Lebanon. A hunting and fishing warehouse sat at the end of the parking lot.

  “I’m coming in with you. I forgot my fishing stuff. ” Rebecca told him.

  “Works for me.” Greg said back, picking up his rock and walking to the front door. He threw the rock through the glass and cleared the shards with his foot.

  Rebecca tried the door. It was unlocked. “Men.” She said as she went passed him.

  She shuffled off to the fishing section. Greg made his way to the hunting area. It was dark inside. Greg turned lanterns on as he walked passed a display. He soon located his shotgun shells. He grabbed a case of them. As he walked towards the exit he found a trap display. He put down the shells and examined the cage. A “critter” entered one end, tripping a door that closed behind it, trapping the animal. It was used to humanely trap and transport pest animals. Greg would use it to trap food. He brought the shells out to the van, and returned for a dozen of the traps.

  Rebecca sat in the warm van waiting for Greg.

  “There is an Orvis store in Hanover if we need more fishing stuff, and the hardware store carries fishing rods and tackle too. I took fly fishing lessons at Orvis one summer. My grandfather loved to fish. You should see my little brother, Craig. It’s all he’d do if we let him.”

  “You only talk about Craig. What’s your other brother’s name?”

  “Matt. You’ll get to meet both of them. Matt is a bit of a character, not serious like me.”

  “Wait, you’re the serious one? You?” She feigned shock in her voice.

  “Yeah, me. I’m the serious one. Really.”

  “What do you say to skipping Walmart, grabbing the window stuff at Home Depot, and going back to town? Heck, let’s skip Home Depot and get the window insulators at the hardware store in town tomorrow. It’s getting late. We have to unload. I don’t know why we would run ourselves ragged when we are staring down the barrel of endless time.” Greg was tired and sore from moving the furniture yesterday. He wanted to setup the bathtub and soak for a while.

  Rebecca shook her head. “Let’s get the window stuff. I don’t want to risk a storm blowing in and dumping a foot of snow and suddenly we can’t get back over here. If hardware store doesn’t have the plastic we face a problem we don’t need to face. You just run in and grab the stuff.”

  “Perfect.” Greg replied.

  She turned the engine over and drove to Home Depot. The cab of the van was hot. They enjoyed the warmth during the short drive.

  Greg smashed the glass door with his rock, turned on the floodlight he held in his left hand, and braved the dark warehouse by himself. There was no light inside the windowless box store. He flashed the flood beam to read the aisle markers and quickly found the window insulating sheets. He picked up an entire case. “No reason to only take one package.” He mumbled as he walked back through the store. His eye caught the fireplace section. He alr
eady had plenty of tools for their fireplaces, but he inspected a carton of easy light logs. He moved the flashlight around before spotting a shopping cart. He placed four cases of the starter logs in the cart, putting the window insulation on top.

  He rolled the cart over the broken glass and out of the store. The van was running, but Rebecca was not in the driver’s seat.

  “Rebecca?” Greg called out. He was nervous not seeing her.

  “Rebecca?” He yelled again.

  “Over here!” He heard her reply. “You have to see what I found.”

  Greg rolled the cart to the back of the van and walked to where he heard Rebecca’s voice. She was standing next to two large blue port-a-johns, leaning a hand against the one closest to her. She smiled from ear to ear.

  “They’re both empty. Can you believe that? They are both 100% empty! Let’s get them into the van. This is the biggest score of the trip!” She was excited and proud of herself. Greg knew the bathtub was going to trump her find, but he let her have her moment.

  “No more walking into the next house. It’s still going to be cold, but we can set one up next to the kitchen door, or off the side door of the house.” Greg replied.

  The one flaw with their current house, something neither of them noticed when they decided upon living there, homes built in 1790 did not have indoor plumbing. Greg and Rebecca did not have an indoor bathroom, an oversight they remedied by using the bathroom in the sorority next door. When the weather turned colder, the pipes would freeze and the bathroom would be useless. The port-a-john meant they could use facilities close to their home and remove their waste to another location. A nasty job, but better than letting their poop pile up.

  They opened the back of the van, pushed all their supplies towards the far wall, and made room for the large blue toilets. The blue plastic boxes were heavy, but by using the edge of the truck as a fulcrum, they managed to get them into the truck bed.