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The Last Tribe

Page 24

by Brad Manuel


  “How did you get here? How did you meet Greg?” Paul asked between bites of bread. “I know we are going to have a lot of time together, but I have to hear all the stories of meeting, getting up here, selecting the house. This is all amazing, and for two teenagers to accomplish it? Unreal.”

  She started from the beginning, as the men stood and listened in awe of what they heard. Rebecca was a talker. She was more than happy to tell her story. Every once in a while Hank or Paul would interject with a question, “How did you think to do that?” or “Why did you make that decision?” It was a fun story, one that, of course, had a happy ending.

  “The bathtub was a wonderful surprise. We both loved taking that first bath, but then the water sat in the tub for four days, gray and nasty, before Greg finally said, ‘I’m drilling a hole in the floor, we’ll just drain it right into the bottom of the house. ‘ It worked perfectly. We attached a piece of hose to the tub drain and threaded it through the floor.”

  After 45 minutes of stories, the three cleaned up the kitchen. Paul and Hank asked where they could store all of the supplies they brought on the sleds attached to the snowmobiles.

  “Well, this is your house now too. You don’t have to ask permission. We can unpack your supplies into the dining room. I want to take an inventory before we put it in storage. We need to have a conversation about where everyone is going to sleep. The downstairs bedroom is the best option, but there are only two beds in there. We should consider finding bunk beds in one of the other houses so the four of us can sleep in there. It makes more sense to have one fire going at night, rather than double our wood consumption heating two bedrooms. At least, as long as neither one of you snores.” She flashed a smile.

  Paul was amazed at Rebecca’s planning. Her intelligence was far beyond that of a regular 13 year old. She actually asked to inventory their supplies. “Let’s get unpacked, wait for Greg to get back, and we can decide on where to go for beds. You’re right. We have another three months of fires, and while there is plenty of wood, there is no reason to waste it.”

  Paul and Hank grabbed their gloves and caps, opened the front door, and walked outside to unhook the supplies from the back of their sleds. Greg was next to the snowmobiles, his shotgun pointed towards the door. He was crouched behind one of the machines, resting the gun on the seat. The barrels were aimed at the men.

  “Hold it right there.” Greg yelled.

  “Greg, it’s your uncles. They made it!.” Rebecca poked her head between the two men.

  Greg dropped the shotgun and ran towards them. He put an arm around each uncle and hugged tightly. They stood in the cold, embracing. No one spoke. Greg wept.

  “I knew you were alive. I knew it.” He finally said. “And if you’re alive, that means the rest of the family is alive.” He hugged tightly, refusing to let go. Hank and Paul were confirmation that Greg’s father and brothers were alive.

  “Greg, I don’t have a coat on, and it’s really cold out here. Can we go inside?” Hank broke the hug.

  “Oh, god, yeah, I’m sorry.” His eyes were red and his face was wet from crying. “You met Rebecca? She saved my life.”

  Paul smiled. “We’ve met. She filled us in, gave us a great meal, very nice girl.”

  “Wait a second.” Greg walked back down the two front steps and to the sidewalk cleared by the snow blower. He bent over and picked up a string with three animals tied to it. “Three squirrels today! That’s the most I’ve gotten in one outing. I should have known there were be more people arriving. How crazy is that?”

  He walked into the house and looked at Rebecca. “I told you they were alive. I believed enough for the both of us, and you kept me alive.”

  Greg cleaned the squirrels out on the trail. It was the reason he was gone for more than his typical one hour.

  Greg strode passed his uncles. He put the squirrels into a pan, drizzled them with olive oil, salt and pepper, and put the pan in the oven. His boots were in the shoe bin by the front door, per Rebecca’s house rules, but he was still in his coat. He washed his hands in the sink before turning back to his uncles.

  Paul and Hank were stunned. Their 14 year old nephew took care of his business before moving forward with pleasantries. Greg had transformed into a survival expert during the last five months. Managing the food was more important than conversation.

  “Okay, so what’s going on? How did you get here? Where were you? Have you spoken to my father or heard anything else?”

  Paul and Hank brought Greg up to speed on their last three months. “We can talk about the rest of the world, the rest of the country later.” Hank said in conclusion. “Rebecca caught us up on your lives. When was the last time you spoke to your father?”

  “I spoke to him right after your call, the one about coming up to Hanover. He said my mom was sick, but no one else, so I think my brothers are okay. He just said to stay alive, get to Hanover, and he would be coming for me.” Greg looked at Rebecca. “With her help I’ve kept my end of the bargain.”

  “Well, we’ve got three or four more months to go, but we’ll make sure we keep your promise.” Hank said to him. “Not that it appears you need much help from us. We might actually pull you down a bit with two more mouths to feed.”

  They sat on the sofas in front of the fire. “By the way,” Paul cut in. “This is the most comfortable sofa I’ve ever sat on. “

  “I know, right? We found it in a house on Occom Pond. It almost killed us getting it into the van and over here, but it was so worth it.” Rebecca nodded.

  “Let me get a sit.” Hank was on the other sofa with Greg. “Is it really that nice?”

  “Hank, you’ll be stunned, it’s like sitting on a slice of heaven. It’s firm, but comfortable. Whatever happens, I think we need to take this couch with us.”

  Hank sat down on the couch. “Damn, I mean darn. This is nice. I could get used to this.”

  Rebecca stood so Hank could swing his feet up and lay down. He put his head on one of the throw pillows and was asleep in seconds.

  “It was kind of a long ride up here. I think it took it out of my brother.” Paul said. “Let’s go in the kitchen so he can grab a snooze. He has this new philosophy of taking life easy, no stress, no apologies for napping.”

  Rebecca scrunched up her face at Greg with her a ‘what the heck? Did that just happen?’ look as she followed Paul into the kitchen.

  The roasted squirrel was out of the oven and was resting on the counter. The light faded as the sun dipped. It was 4:30pm. Paul, Greg, and Rebecca talked for hours. “Hank and I will sleep on the couches tonight. We’ll have to keep two fires going for one night. We can find and secure bunk beds tomorrow.”

  “Is he going to be able to fall asleep tonight if we let him take a nap now?” Rebecca looked towards the living room.

  “Don’t worry, it will be my problem, you two can go to sleep in the bedroom.” Paul assured her.

  Greg pulled canned peas and carrots from the pantry along with chicken stock, instant potatoes, and stuffing. “Let’s have a feast. This is a true celebration day. Maybe the food will wake Uncle Hank.”

  They enjoyed a homecoming supper that evening. Paul told the story of the filthy caveman Hank emerging from his hole in the ground. Rebecca had the uncles rolling as she talked about Greg trying to bag a turkey with a garden hoe. Their stories lasted late into the night.

  “Thank you.” Greg said to Rebecca quietly. His head was propped up on his hand. He looked at her as she faced him in the same pose. He stretched out his hand, and she grabbed it. They squeezed hands together.

  “You are welcome, Greg Dixon from Hightower.”

  He squeezed her hand again. “Don’t think we aren’t still team Greg and Rebecca. We’re a group of four now, but I have your back. I’ll always have your back, just like I know you have mine.” He did not drop his eyes. “Don’t ever think I won’t have your back.”

  She smiled. “I know.” She closed her eyes, still holding hi
s hand. “I know.”

  Greg opened his eyes and rolled over the next morning to find Rebecca staring at him. Their fire was out and the room was cold.

  “It’s about time you got up. Put on a robe and start the fire in the kitchen. I’m freezing, and I don’t want to get out of bed until I know it’s warm in there.”

  “Okay, okay. Just keep the covers over your head and I’ll call you when it’s warm.” Greg got out of bed and put on a thick fleece LL Bean robe, slipped his feet into his fleece slippers, and opened the bedroom door. He was met with a blast of warm air. His uncles were up, and the main house was warm.

  “Looks like they beat us up, the house is warm. What a nice treat.” Greg did not wait for Rebecca. He walked through the house to use the bathroom outside the kitchen. He said good morning to his uncles as he hurried to use the facilities.

  When he came back through he saw them cooking sausage from the food their brought on their sleds. “Weren’t there any eggs?” Greg asked.

  “Eggs, from the Easter Bunny? Where are we going to get eggs?” Hank asked as he ate sausage off his plate.

  “From the chickens we have in back. Did we not show you the coop attached to the house?” Greg went to the door leading to the coop. He was followed by Paul and Hank. Greg grabbed a basket off a hook next to the door. He opened the roost, gathered the ten eggs available that morning, thanked the chickens, and told them he would be back to feed them in a minute.

  “You hunt squirrels and you have chickens?” Paul said flatly.

  Rebecca came into the kitchen and saw the lone plate of sausage.

  “No eggs this morning?” She asked.

  26

  Todd typed 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington D.C. into the GPS on the RV dashboard. The satellites circling the earth were still functioning, and the GPS was based on a pre-loaded hard drive. The directions to the White House were flawless.

  Dusk was settling onto the capital city when they pulled up to the building. A tall iron gate blocked the entrance.

  Todd picked up a walkie talkie and called John. “You think I should just put the front bumper against the gate and floor it slowly? We should have enough horsepower to get me through, right?”

  “Nothing to lose but the bumper, maybe the front tires if spikes pop up or something.”

  “Spikes?” Todd said to Emily. The boys rushed to the front window to see the action.

  “Are we going to ram it?” Brian asked. “Let’s ram it.”

  “Ram it, ram it!” The boys started chanting.

  “I’m not going to ram it. I’m going to gently push it open.” He paused. “If I can.” He edged the front of the RV passed the empty guard shack and against the gate. “Ready? Everyone hold onto something.” He pressed the gas. Nothing happened, the engine revved. He pressed down and the gate suddenly broke open. The RV jolted forward as the iron gate swung violently to the side. Todd took his foot off the gas and the vehicle coasted to a stop.

  Todd looked towards Emily. The RV and all of its passengers were fine. Only a few items had fallen off the counter.

  “Welcome to the White House, kids.” He announced with a smile.

  “Nice work.” John called through the walkie talkie.

  Todd moved the RV up the driveway to the White House, parking next to a overhang with a wide set of stairs. A red carpet led into the house. The rug was badly stained from the winter weather.

  “This must be where the president and first lady got in and out, covered to keep rain and snow off. See the red carpet with the big seal on it kids?”

  “Are we going to eat? I’m starving.” The word starving was emphasized by a dragging of its pronunciation. Jay was not fun when he was hungry.

  “We’re having spaghetti and meatballs. Let’s do it!” Todd developed a recipe for meatballs from cans of beef chili. He made a batch while they were in Richmond, and left them simmering in the pasta sauce. He was lucky the sauce had not fallen on the ground when they breached the gate. Todd poured water into a pot and turned on the burner. “Fifteen minutes until dinner. Why don’t you three go out and play soccer on the White House Lawn? Maybe walk the dog?”

  Hubba was thrown out of his bed during the gate opening. He sat by the RV door waiting. “And make sure you pick up his poop this time.” Todd said to Craig.

  There was enough daylight left to kick a ball around the lawn. Brian grabbed the glow in the dark soccer ball they had for just such occasions and ran out the door. With the water on the stove, and the meatballs and sauce bubbling, Todd walked out of the RV with Emily to talk to John, Matt, and their newest tribe member.

  Todd was too late to speak to Solange. Jay co-opted her to play soccer, and she was off with the boys kicking the ball around.

  “That was an easy trip.” John said. “I’ve never gotten to D.C. so quickly. This no traffic thing has its benefits.”

  “How’s the new girl?” Todd asked.

  “She’s sharp. She has a great idea of shooting fireworks off both here and in New York. She said they would be more effective than the horn and smoke. She earned her dinner tonight. Where we get fireworks? I have no idea, but it’s a good plan. I think even a flare gun would work. Maybe we can use the GPS to find a boating supply store.”

  Emily nodded, “Matt seems to like her addition.”

  John smiled, “Yeah, he does, but I don’t think she’s seeing it back. She may be only 27’ish, but she’s mature. It takes guts to leave your family and come to the States. And to endure what she’s had to? I’m not saying she’s out of his league, but I think she sees herself as more our peer than his. Anyway, that’s the vibe I got during the last two hours.” He looked towards her kicking the ball with his son. “I trust her. She’s open about herself, and she is a keen observer. She knows the shit storm we are all in, and she knows we have a long road ahead. This isn’t some sort of picnic.”

  “High praise coming from Mr. Trust No One.” Emily gave John’s arm a soft punch.

  “Spaghetti and meatballs tonight, I’m about to drop the pasta. Let’s plan on 6 to 7 minutes.” Todd went inside to finish dinner. He made three boxes of thin spaghetti, more than necessary in case anyone showed up for dinner. Todd was wary of cooking extra and unneeded food, but knew he could serve pasta as leftovers the next day.

  Eight minutes later he rang the dinner bell. The food, a large bowl of meatballs next to a larger bowl of pasta with red sauce, was presented on the RV eat-in kitchen table. They used plastic plates, cups, and utensils to minimize the dishes and water use.

  Todd handed Solange a plate. “Please, go through the line first. I don’t know how well you’ve eaten, but I hope you enjoy your first meal with us. Do us the honor.”

  Jay stepped forward. “I’ll show her how to do it.” He grabbed a plate from his father. “It’s a buff-end. You walk through and grab what you want as you go.”

  “That’s buffet, dear.” Emily corrected her youngest, who had a tendency to make up words that were ‘almost’ correct.

  “Buffet, yeah, come on, I’ll show you. He touched Solange’s hand. She let him lead her to the table of food.

  Solange smiled at Jay. “Thank you, sir. Thank you too.” She said to Todd over her shoulder.

  They sat in the RV, Emily and Solange shared the loveseat, and the four boys used the dining table. Todd and John sat on the sofa. The evening’s darkness dropped the outside temperature into the 50’s, preventing them from eating outside.

  “This is delicious.” Matt said to his uncle. “How did you make these meatballs? Where did you get the meat?”

  “You have to get creative when your sources of protein are limited. I take canned chili, the mildest I can find, and mix it with bread crumbs from yesterday’s bread, break a few eggs, Italian spices. They firm up nicely and resemble meatballs. It stretches a few cans of meat into a meal for all of us.”

  “I swear I taste cheese. Where did you get cheese?” Matt was the cook in his group, and was eager to learn
.

  “Oh, yeah, I added some goat’s milk ricotta. I made that the other day for a lasagna, and I had a little left over. Thought it would go well. I found a cheese making book, and started using the goat’s milk to make ricotta and mozzarella. When we get settled, I can show you how to make the fresh cheeses that don’t need aging. It’s pretty easy, though it does take quite a bit of milk.”

  Solange sat next to Emily. She barely touched her food.

  “Are you okay, Sol?” Emily asked.

  “I am overwhelmed. You are all so nice, and you have accepted me so easily. I have not spoken to anyone in six months. I am grateful. Please forgive me if I cry. It is hard to describe. I am relieved and happy to have found you, or be found by you.”

  Emily put her arm around the young woman. “Take all the time you need. We understand.”

  “She calls soccer football.” Brian said loudly. “She said soccer is called football in aqua-door. That’s weird. What do they call football then?”

  “It’s Ecuador, and they don’t have football in Ecuador, they play soccer and baseball and other sports, but not football. Football is just an American sport, well, and Canadian I guess.” Todd told him. “Soccer is called football in every other country but ours. We are the weird ones.”

  “Oh.” Brian tried to process the information. He had a confused look on his face. “Are there even other countries anymore?”

  The adults looked at each other. Emily responded after an awkward pause. “I don’t know, I guess not. We are probably all in this together.”

  A voice called from outside. “Hello? Is anyone in there? Hello? My name is Peter Reinhart. I saw your lights.”

  The people in the RV froze. John’s hand went to the gun on his hip.

  “Really John?” Emily said. “It sounds like an older man.” She stood and went to the door. She walked over a sleeping Hubba and quipped, “again, great watch dog you’ve become.”

  “Emily, hold on.” Todd said.

  She looked over her shoulder and shook her head. “Do you not understand either? We are all in this together, everyone.”

 

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