The Last Tribe

by Brad Manuel

  Hank cooked dinner in a fantastically large pan he found at a restaurant in town.

  “Okay, you’re right. Rebecca, and I won’t lay blame on her because I went on my own, wanted some alone time, a few hours without a crowd. I know you care, and I should have told you. It won’t happen again.”

  “Where did you go, anyway? Did you two keep some spot secret from me and Hank?” Paul asked.

  Greg smiled. “You know we did.” He blushed. “There is a coach house behind one of the big houses on Balch Street. It’s like an office or something, but it has a fireplace and a couch. We considered it for a living space, but it’s just one room and a half bath.”

  “That half bath would have been nice in the winter.” Paul mumbled, more to himself than Greg.

  “Alright, so if we can’t find you, will it be safe to assume you are there?” John asked.

  “It would be the first place you should look.” Greg answered. “And it’s not that we don’t like everyone, we love everyone, we like that everyone is here, but,” He paused, “well, I’m used to being on my own, not sleeping in a house with twelve people, most of them under the age of eleven. Matt, Rebecca, and I are the only older kids in the cottage.”

  John looked surprised, not because Greg was wrong, but because he had not thought about it. “You’re right. I lumped you in with the kids, and you three aren’t kids. Whatever you want to do is fine with all of us. Let me know, let any of us know, and we can help you find a bedroom with a fireplace, get you set up. You’ve earned it.”

  “Well, this conversation didn’t go as I thought it was going to.” Greg admitted. “I knew I was in the wrong when I snuck away, but sometimes, you know, kids do things. I didn’t realize I wasn’t a kid anymore.”

  John smiled. “Yeah. I was mad. Your brother set me straight.” He stood up and walked over to Greg, wrapping his arms around him. “I’m your dad, that’s never going to change, but now I’m your friend slash dad. That doesn’t mean I want to know specifics of what you were doing at your coach house, but it means I am not your boss. You are an equal in this tribe or group, or whatever the hell we are.”

  They released their hug. Greg turned to his Uncle Hank at the stove. “What is that? It smells incredible?”

  “Lobster risotto with roasted red pepper. Tastes better than it smells. I’ll admit, it’s turning out damn good.” Sweat beads dripped down Hank’s forehead from the heat of the woodstove. He wore a look of pride as he stirred his masterpiece.

  Paul asked Greg a natural follow up question. “Do you and Rebecca want to move over to the coach house?” The question was met with silence from the room. Paul looked around. “Hey, we’re all adults, and he’s earned it, you just said it yourself, John. I am opening the door for him to walk through.”

  “I appreciate that, Uncle Paul, I really do. Here is my honest answer. If we plan on staying in Hanover for a long time, yes. If we are here for another two or three weeks, no. We don’t want to fracture the group, have us start pairing or even singling off until we’re at our final location. Rebecca and I talked about it. She has a plan.”

  Paul and Hank laughed.

  “What?” John asked.

  Paul clued his brother in on the comment. “Well, as you spend more time with Rebecca, you’ll realize she always has a plan, typically she is several steps ahead of you with her plan. Also, she’s always prepared. Your son was making a joke.”

  “Okay Mr. Jokester, why don’t you feed and clean the animals this afternoon, since you decided to take the day for yourself.” John threw his thumb towards the fenced in back barnyard.

  “I collected firewood this morning. It’s not like I slacked off.”

  “Greg, it’s filling a trough with water and making sure they have food, maybe shoveling some crap into the trashcan. Man up.” Ahmed spoke for the first time. “You know what? Dan wants to see how it is done. Grab him from upstairs. He’s reading books or playing nerf basketball up there.”

  “I’ll just do it while there’s still sunlight.” Greg shuffled out the back door. Ahmed was right, it was not a hard job. The tough job was milking the goats in the morning, and even that was not difficult. Greg slipped on the pair of communal rubber work boots and barn coat they kept by the back door, and made quick work of the chores.

  The converted barnyard had a fence running around a small perimeter, and a ramp running into the screened in porch on the side of the house. There were nesting spots for the chickens, and hay beds for the goats to use at night. The afternoon animal shift was easy and basic. Clean up poop, make sure the animals have clean hay for the night, check their water, and spread food on the ground for the chickens. Not much to it, but essential to keeping the animals happy and producing.

  Greg heard the back door shut. Dan stood on the small landing. “Hey, Greg, I wanted to see what the job was back here. Okay if I help or watch?”

  “Sure, I was just shoveling poop. If you want to put on some gloves, you can spread the feed, maybe check the water?” Greg pointed towards a box of work gloves by the back door.

  “How was your first day with us?” Greg asked.

  “Let’s see,” Dan started as he walked over to the feed pail. “I slept until noon, came out and enjoyed a steak sandwich, played tennis. Living here isn’t too bad.”

  Greg chuckled. “You should try it in December. Not as much steak and tennis, and it feels like it gets dark at noon.”

  “I was down the road a few miles, I know what you’re talking about. From what I’ve been told, we are kicking back and enjoying a vacation before we move to Hawaii. New Hampshire in April is our vacation before we start our life in Hawaii.”

  Dan looked around the small yard. “I threw the feed. The water looks cleanish and full. Anything else?”

  “If you open the door, at the top of that ramp? See if I need to clean up in there, and make sure the goats haven’t eaten their beds and the chickens’ beds. If they have, just throw some more hay down from one of the bails on the other side of the fence under that tarp.” Dan followed Greg’s orders.

  A few minutes later they were sitting on the back porch steps watching chickens eat feed off the ground. The goats milled about.

  “You and I are lucky people.” Dan said to the boy. “Not because we survived the rapture. That wasn’t lucky, it was torture.” He put his elbow on Greg’s shoulder . “This is lucky, living like this, having potential again, having possibility again.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was living with two people that were driving me crazy. I was going to leave and try to survive on my own. How long would you give me? A year? If my car breaks down and I don’t find water? A week?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Yeah, well, I give you and Rebecca a year up here. I’ve heard you developed some fantastic trapping skills, and she is whip smart, but seriously, two more winters? If one of you gets sick, gets hurt.” He looked at Greg. “We were rescued. That’s damn lucky.”

  “Did my Dad send you out here?” Greg gave Dan a sideways look.

  “No.” He held up his hands. “Honest, I am just making conversation.”

  “We did get lucky.” Greg looked back to the goats. “Do you think they wonder how they went from North Carolina, where it’s warm, to New England, where it snows? You think the goats are like ‘What the heck is this?’”

  “The goats aren’t from here?” Tom did not know the back story.

  “I guess it makes the joke hard to understand if you don’t know where the goats are from. No, my aunt and uncle had them in Raleigh, along with two thirds of the chickens. Rebecca and I had ten this winter, well, we started with ten, went down to five, but that was more than enough to keep us in eggs.”

  “We had fish and lobster, lots of lobster. I would have killed for some eggs or meat. Once the snow flew, we didn’t do much by way of hunting or fishing.” He put his hand on Greg’s leg, gave it a pat and stood up. “Like I said, we are two lucky guys to get rounde
d up like we did.”

  “I’ll tell you the story of my month in my school dorm, or the two weeks it took me to find Rebecca. I was one meal away from eating cat food. It confirms your belief that I am lucky.”

  “I’d like that. Maybe we can share stories about our initial weeks during the flight.”

  “Did you hear the one about the two little girls and boy walking half of Manhattan?” Greg heard the story second hand from Matt.

  “Like I said, we can compare notes during the flight. Let’s go in and see how long before we eat. The house smells wonderful.” Dan opened the door and went inside. He kicked off his boots by the back door, and started talking to people as soon as he got to the kitchen. He was a social person, fun, nice, and his true personality was bottled up for months in Boston. He felt joy around the new people and families.

  The weather turned worse, and temperatures dropped back into the thirties. A needed reminder of how fickle and harsh New England weather is. The rain and sleet made it impossible to use the outdoor pizza oven. Todd and Ahmed moved their production into the Italian restaurant downtown Hanover, lighting the commercial brick oven and inviting everyone to join them for pizza night. They made goat’s milk mozzarella cheese, and found canisters of grated parmesan cheese in pantries around the town. People enjoyed sausage and cheese pizzas for the first time in close to a year.

  Kelly and Hank spent the day tending to the animals at the dairy farm. They were back in time for pizzas and wine. They reported that one cow was producing milk again, not in any quantity, but producing none the less.

  Dinosaur rock, controlled by the adults, played from speakers, and candles lit the building. The little kids danced and laughed, and the adults drank a few too many glasses of wine. People were happy and comfortable in Hanover.

  Peter approached Antonio at the party. “Tony, I need to ask for your help.”

  Antonio and Peter had only exchanged cordial hellos up to this point in their relationship.

  “I want to go to the airport, the one an hour away? I was hoping tomorrow or the next, and I think I might need help getting the plane started. I heard about how great a job you did with the boats, and, well.”

  “Road trip. Nice!” Antonio stuck out his hand and shook Peter’s. “Yeah, I’m in, anything I can do to help. I don’t know anything about airplanes, but if an engine is an engine, I’ll give it a go.”

  “Great.” Peter turned to walk away before spinning around. “You know, I want to teach someone how to fly, just some basics in case I need help. Any chance you want to log some time with me? Get some flying lessons over the next week or so?”

  “That would be crazy. Yeah, hell yeah. Give it up, Peter.” Antonio put his hand out again, but this time his elbow was bent so his hand was more at chest level. Peter imitated the motion, and shook hands awkwardly. Their chests were inches apart. Antonio smiled and nodded his head. “Pilot Antonio, damn does that sound good.” He walked off to tell the other teens.

  Rebecca found Peter later in the evening. “You should go tomorrow, you know, to Manchester. The snow will start to fly on Wednesday. you don’t want to drive in the snow, or on slick, icy, roads.”

  “That’s good advice. I didn’t have any plans tomorrow anyway, might as well knock it out.” Peter went off to find Paul and Todd to see if they were interested in going.

  50

  The rain stopped the next morning, but the clouds remained as Peter, Antonio, Emily, Meredith, and Paul raced down the highway towards Manchester. Meredith wanted an adventure, and asked if she could tag along. It was her first time away from Avery since her family died.

  “Why not?” Was Peter’s response to her request to join him.

  They pulled into the airport, speeding away from the parking garage and parking lot tents, straight to the backside of the terminal. Emily stopped the Suburban once she was through the open gate and onto the runway. The fuel trucks were to her right. The planes were off in the distance on her left.

  “Which way?” She asked Peter.

  Peter pointed left. “Drive down to the planes. Let’s see if there is a stair truck. Pilots had to get out of those planes somehow once they drove them down there.”

  “We’re looking for a pickup with a set of stairs on it?” Meredith asked, poking her head between the front seats. “Like that one?” She pointed to the right, next the fuel trucks. Parked beside the last terminal gate was a truck with stairs running up the back of the cab.

  “Exactly.” Peter said. “Like I said, let’s go over there and get that truck started. One of us can drive it to the planes.”

  Emily turned the SUV right instead of left and drove to the stair truck. The door to the truck was unlocked and the keys were in the ignition. It did not turn over.

  “Do we want to use the new battery or jump the old one?” Emily asked Antonio through the window.

  “Let’s jump it if we can. I like keeping a spare in case our battery dies. Roadside assistance isn’t all that reliable anymore.” The new Antonio was intelligent, practical, and a hard worker. Emily wondered why his attitude and work ethic had done such a one eighty. What made him join a gang in the first place? He appeared to have a loving father, a good family, siblings he cared about. Maybe one day she would ask him. She also thought about letting the past go, and enjoying the new man blossoming in front of her.

  She popped the hood for Antonio. He pulled twelve foot jumper cables out of the back of the SUV. He connected the batteries, waited a few seconds, and the stair truck came to life. It had plenty of gas.

  “You mind if I take it over? I like driving things like this.” Antonio asked hopefully.

  “Just don’t get close to the plane until I get out and direct you.” Peter asked him. “I don’t want you breaking the plane or this truck.”

  “I wanted to drive the stair truck.” Paul said from the back seat.

  “Well, you should have gotten out to jumpstart it then. You don’t get the fun when you don’t put in the work.” Emily mock chastised him. “Maybe Tony will let you drive it when we’re done.”

  “Funny.” Paul replied. “Very funny.”

  She followed Antonio’s stairs down the runway towards the large grouping of planes.

  “John and Solange are right. We have two planes. Hopefully one of them will work.” Peter said upon seeing the two 777’s.

  Instead of backing the truck against the plane, Peter suggested they park the stairs parallel to the door. He did not want to take a chance of hitting or denting the plane or ruining the stair truck. He could get into the cabin from the side of the stairs. He directed Antonio to the right spot before running up the stairs to the jet’s door.

  “Do we need a key or something?” Paul asked, coming up behind Peter.

  Peter looked at him with as close to a ‘really?’ expression as the polite man could give. “No, these do not get stolen very often. We need to use our muscles and twist this handle.”

  A circle with a bar running through it, similar to a Greek letter Theta, was recessed into the side. Paul noticed a metal catch that held the handle into a “locked” position. He pushed the catch up, like he would the safety on a gun, and turned the circular handle to his left for half a rotation. The safety button clicked back into place and the seal on the door made a noise like opening a new jar of pickles.

  “Nice work. We’re in.” Peter patted him on the back.

  The door pulled out a few inches and slid to the side. They were next to the cockpit. Peter saw the rubber floor of the steward’s area. “It smells a little stale, but other than that…”

  The level of the stairs was equal to the floor of the plane. One by one they stepped into the cabin.

  Peter went to the cockpit with Antonio. The others checked the cabin areas. “Holy moly this plane is big.” Emily said. “I mean, seriously, we should have enough room, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, we are good.” Paul looked around the steward’s cabin. It was fully stocked. “I
bet this plane was supposed to take off and was grounded. It probably has a full tank.” He looked at Meredith. She sat in a first class seat. “Meredith, let’s go in the back and check the cargo hold. Anyone want to see if there is luggage back there? This plane might have been boarded or had people sitting in the terminal waiting to board.”

  Meredith jumped out of her chair and made her way to the back. She had flown before, but only to Orlando from Newark. She had never been on a plane this large. She eyed the next area of seats. “If that was first class, what is this?” She asked.

  “Business class.” Emily told her.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Another way for the airlines to make money.” Paul told her.

  The cabin lights came on. Paul and Emily cheered. They yelled louder when the engines started. They were in the back and did not see Antonio jump out of the plane to move the stair truck and drive the Suburban towards the terminal.

  Paul, Meredith, and Emily were searching the cargo hold when Peter stuck his head through the door. “They were going to leave, must have been stopped.” There were hundreds of stowed bags. “Why wouldn’t they give people their stuff back I wonder?”

  “It was a weird time. I would have gotten out of Dodge, not cared about my luggage.” Paul told him. “I know the Cincinnati Airport was closed. It just closed. I read on a blog it was nasty, armed troops in hazmat masks throwing everyone out. People were told to leave without their things.”

  “We can go through the luggage if you like, but I’d just as soon lighten our load, particularly if we are taking cows. Cows are heavy.”

  “We aren’t taking the cows, are we?” Paul asked.

  “We’re not? Then why is Kelly trying to save them?” Emily asked back.

  “Because that is what she does, at least that’s what I assumed. I mean, I guess we can take the cows. Dairy is a good thing. We know there are cows in Hawaii, right?”