“Sorry I don’t have more to offer,” said Sam.
“This is wonderful,” replied Jason, “I wasn’t expecting this much…biscuits and jam…wow.”
“We’ve still got a good supply of jam left after the winter,” said Sam. “Tell me more about what is going on in Hillsboro.”
Jason filled him in with more details about the shortages, looting, martial law and the corruption he experienced.
“You had any problem with gangs up here?” Jason asked.
“Not so much, occasionally a few bad guys came around. I had to shoot at some of them, but they didn’t have much fight in them. It got worse as winter approached and they got more desperate and hungry. Then they disappeared. Haven’t seen anyone yet this spring. Not sure what’s happened to them.”
“What about your neighbors?” Jason had noticed some houses nearby.
“One widower died last winter; caught pneumonia. We took care of him but there was not much we could do to help” Sam replied. “The other two couples left for Hillsboro. Now that you tell me about things down there, it doesn’t sound like that was a good move. I’m glad we didn’t go with them.” They were both silent for a moment.
“How did you fare through the winter?” he asked.
“We did alright. We regularly put food up—canning—so we had supplies. We had to butcher a cow and bandits took the others. I couldn’t stop all the rustling. We have some chickens that we keep. It was hard to save them over the winter but we managed to keep most alive.”
“Can you still farm this spring?”
“Yep, wheat and corn,” replied Sam. “With the harvest we keep some seed and keep the cycle going…wish we could get a couple of goats or sheep, but they’ve disappeared. But we’ll be able to start a vegetable garden again, that helps a lot.”
Jason decided to take a chance to learn more, “I’m guessing your wife is inside, are there more of you, or have the two of you done all this?”
Sam looked sharply at him, measuring him and his question. “Yes, I have a wife. It’s just the two of us. Our kids moved away five years ago. We haven’t heard from them since the power went out and don’t know how they’re doing. We pray for them and hope for the best. They were raised to be self sufficient—growing up on a farm.” Sam paused for moment, then said, “Wife’s name is Judy. You may as well meet her. Come on inside.”
They went in the house and headed into the kitchen. The warmth enveloped him like a soft, cozy blanket. There was a wood stove in the kitchen and it was going strong, taking the damp out of the room. The smell of the day’s cooking filled the air. Jason breathed in deeply, savoring the odors and memories that they triggered. Sam introduced Judy. She greeted Jason warmly, like a mother although she was only about 10 years older. Judy was a short but solid woman about five foot two or three. Jason immediately felt at home and welcome.
He recounted his trek from Hillsboro. “I fell off the side of the mountain…I know it sounds stupid. Anyway, I rolled about two hundred feet down and bruised or cracked a couple of ribs. I damaged the travois in the process. It sure has been painful.”
“You have to stay until you’re healed up.” Judy said. Sam looked at her but said nothing.
“That’s generous of you. I’ll do what I can to help out. I don’t think anything could be as hard as pulling that broken travois with these sore ribs.”
Sitting down and relaxing in the kitchen, Jason began nodding off, overwhelmed by the warmth and his fatigue.
Sam smiled, “Maybe you should head out to the barn while you’re still awake.”
Judy started to say something, but Sam gave her a look to keep quiet. She disappeared for a few moments and returned with two wool blankets and a pillow. A pillow! Jason couldn’t hold back the grin when he saw it.
“This should help you to get a good sleep,” Judy said as she dumped the bedding in Jason’s arms.
Sam added a poncho, “Cover the bedding, you don’t want to get it wet.”
Thanking them, Jason took the bedding and headed back to the barn. Once in the barn he scraped up some left over straw into a pile against an interior stall. Then he set up a lean-to from the top of the stall to the floor, laid down another tarp and covered that with the blankets and pillow. Then, taking off his clothes for the first time in more than a week, he stooped under the tarp and crawled into the nest he had created. Lying back with his head on the pillow, Jason sighed deeply as his aching muscles began to relax and fell into a deep sleep. Sam and Judy stayed up all night in shifts, keeping a watch on the barn, just to be sure.
Jason slept from that afternoon through the night until the next morning. He was awakened by the delicious smell of breakfast being cooked; fried ham, eggs and biscuits. His stomach growled and heaved as the quick pangs of hunger rose up. He dressed quickly and headed to the house, hoping he would be invited in. Sure enough, when he got to the porch, Judy called out for him to come into the kitchen. There on the table were biscuits with some canned meat and fresh eggs. Eggs! Jason couldn’t believe it.
“How…?” he asked.
“Didn’t Sam tell you? We saved some hens and a rooster,” Judy replied. “They’re worth more laying eggs than for us to eat them. It took some work to keep them from thieves and predators, but we modified the chicken coop to meet both challenges—lock ‘em up at night.” She said with a grin.
“We had to make a strong, lockable coop,” said Sam, coming into the kitchen. “You should know these eggs are special, they’re free range, very organic.”
Jason smiled. “They could be any kind of range and I’d relish them. I never thought I would be sitting in a kitchen eating eggs after I left my house. When you mentioned saving some chickens over the winter, I didn’t realize you had your own egg laying operation.”
“All it takes is some hens and a randy rooster,” Sam replied with a wink.
Judy put out the plates. Jason started to eat, then he stopped as Judy and Sam bowed their heads and gave thanks for the meal.
Judy noticed Jason’s confusion and discomfort. “We give thanks for every meal we eat. We give thanks for our ability to provide for ourselves in this strange time. And now, we can give thanks for being able to help someone who came to us in need.”
His mouth full, Jason just nodded, but he wondered how one could keep giving thanks to God after what had happened. “Don’t you find it hard? I mean, life has changed, our society has been ripped apart. What about your sons? They may have not fared as well as you.”
“All the more reason to pray…for them and for others. We’re doing well. We’ve been used to living on our own for years, but we know that many people are not equipped so well as us. They need our prayers all the more.”
Jason shook his head at their easy declaration of faith in the face of such a disruption in society. It continued to rain, so Jason and Sam spent the morning talking about the future, the farm and the work projects where he could use Jason’s help. It was the first time since the EMP attack that Jason had heard positive talk about the future—something more than just survival. Later he went to the barn to rest and dry out his gear. That afternoon Judy scrounged up some foam padding and helped Jason sew some extra padding in strategic areas of his harness in an effort to reduce the abrasions.
The next day the weather broke. Jason’s ribs were feeling better after two luxurious nights sleeping with a pillow and dry blankets. He was able to move better and be of some help to Sam. Sam drew up a list of repairs and the two men set out to work. As the days progressed and Jason healed, he was increasingly helpful. They settled into a routine of work, talk, and then eating in the kitchen. Jason offered to contribute some of his food, but Judy would not allow it. “We have enough and we’ll be planting more soon.”
They worked on getting a neighbor’s old tractor, retired many years earlier, back to life. Since it was pre-electronic, Sam thought they could get it to run again. Sam’s tractor had died with the EMP burst. They collected some diesel f
uel and found a couple of batteries that weren’t completely dead and wired them together. They removed and disassembled the injectors, cleaned and carefully reassembled them. After putting everything together they spent a painstaking hour priming the system and were rewarded when the engine finally coughed to life. They whooped it up and slapped high fives with each other like a couple of school boys.
Over the next week, Jason learned about plowing and disking the soil; and how to plant the corn and wheat. According to Sam, all the cereal grains could be done the same way. He stood in the field, inhaling the dark, musky scent of the tilled earth. It was soft and black. It spoke of a mystery. Put something in it, bury it and it will be returned a hundred-fold. Jason marveled at it all, how roots lived a hidden, subterranean life, pulling in nutrients from simple dirt and turning that into plant growth.
“It’s not simple dirt,” Sam said as Jason marveled out loud. “This soil is rich in chemicals and nutrients that plants need. The wonder is how the roots collect those nutrients so the plants can grow.”
“Planting seems like such an act of faith,” Jason said.
“It is in more ways than you can imagine. It’s not just the wonder of plants emerging from seeds, but you have to have faith that the proper amount of rain will come, the bugs won’t overwhelm the crops and you can get the harvest in without rain ruining it. Rain helps at one part of the process and then hurts at another part.”
Jason also helped Sam with the vegetable garden which they planted by hand. They put in beans, onions, beets, carrots, kale and other greens. Jason was stunned at what Sam and Judy had available to them by carefully storing from each season’s harvest. His mouth watered in anticipation of the bounty they would reap.
A warm glow kept coming over him as the days passed. Jason wondered about the feeling; there was an elusive quality about it. It was pleasant, but he couldn’t readily find a name for it. Then one day it hit him; he was experiencing the joys of family; the warmth and bond between people who cared for one another mixed with the shared efforts of working towards common goals. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced since his childhood. Jason basked in the glow, soaking up its warmth and comfort.
This couple was self sufficient and thriving. Much of the country needed to know what Sam and Judy knew. The country was going to have to revert back to the family farm producing its excess for those in the cities.
Chapter 8
Planting and other work went on for two weeks. Jason’s ribs healed and his strength returned. One morning after breakfast, he asked Sam about the possibility of staying on at the farm.
“I could help you with all the chores and more than make up for what I eat. I could also help in any defense of the farm…if that became necessary.”
Sam looked at Jason. “Judy and I talked about you the last two nights. You’ve been a good work partner and I think we’ve helped each other, but I’m not sure we should add a third party to our home.”
Jason looked at him in surprise. He thought his idea was perfect; at least it seemed so from his point of view. “Why? Don’t I add to the farm? I work hard and I’ve got some useful skills.”
“Yes you do…”
“Don’t I fit in well with you and Judy?” He had been getting very comfortable. “I’d really like to stay.”
Sam looked at the ground for a long moment, “Jason, you do carry your weight. We work well right now, but this is short term. Judy and I have been self sufficient since the last kid left five years ago and we like it that way. You’re a good man,” he continued, “but this is not our style of living. We felt called to help you…it’s our Christian duty. And you’ve help us in return. But we’re not that upset at what has happened. Like I said, we’ve lived alone for years. I’m glad we could help you but you need to find your own place…or a place to make your own.”
“What about an extra man for defense?”
“We can take care of ourselves. We have so far. And I think we’ll see even fewer people this year. We’re pretty far away from any big towns.”
Jason sighed and nodded. “I guess I’ll get my gear together. I’m feeling better and I probably should set out tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to hurry you out.”
“It’s better to go now rather than later.” The dismay he felt was sharpened by his remembered sense of loss of family.
Sam helped Jason get his harness fine tuned. The addition of Judy’s strategic padding made the travois feel much more comfortable. Jason had repaired the damage and felt confident it would work even better. Judy made him take two of the wool blankets knowing that Jason would find the wool useful. Sam also gave him one of the ponchos for the inevitable rainy days and nights.
The next morning, after an extra large breakfast and many hugs, Jason got himself into his harness and pulled on his backpack. Judy looked sad, as if she were seeing off one of her kids. Even Sam looked a little sad, but Jason smiled at them.
“You were a Godsend. I’ll never forget you and your help. I’m so glad you didn’t shoot me that rainy day when I showed up. I must have looked pretty bad.”
“You did and I’m glad I didn’t,” Sam responded, grinning. “We’ll always remember you, too. We wish you well in finding a place of your own.”
“We’ll be praying for you,” Judy added.
Sam advised going north on the road for about a mile and he would find an old two-track trail, just after a little creek, heading west into the foothills. It was one of numerous old roads dating back to colonial times that cut into the mountains. They were used to access the forest for its timber, bark and minerals. These old two-track trails, often called bark roads, hundreds of years old, provided relatively easy travel into the mountains. Up on the ridge, which Sam expected Jason could reach by evening, he would find a hunting trail going north.
With a smile and wave, Jason set off down the drive. He hoped Sam and Judy would be all right. They had made it through the first winter just fine. But as he walked down the road, he could not shake a nagging worry about Sam’s dismissal of threats from outlaw gangs. He hoped Sam was right.
Chapter 9
Jason hiked up the bark road. His travois worked so much better than before. The spring day was sunny and filled with promise. The trees were beginning to bud. The air was clear, the birds were singing. He could hear a Chickadee with its clear, three note whistle, and the staccato chirping of a purple finch. In spite of his sadness at leaving, it was a day that held the promise of new beginnings. This first day he stopped early to enjoy the weather and savor some of the food Judy packed for him. It wouldn’t last long, so he decided to eat it right away. He set up camp just off the road, below the ridge. It had been a comfortable first day hiking and he was pleased that he and the harness were getting along better.
Shouldn’t feel sad, he told himself, reflecting on Sam and Judy’s decision, just grateful that he found them when he did. They allowed him a respite from his plunge into the deep end of wilderness living. They provided him a place and the time to heal and recover from being overwhelmed. Jason now felt much more ready for his odyssey. He was hardened and chastened from his initial experience and had learned some lessons about finding the rhythm of the forest.
He turned his thoughts from Sam and Judy to his own plans. It was still to find country that was remote and had game, and then find some shelter where he could establish a living situation that was a step up from camping. Long term camping was not a viable option. It would break his body down, especially through the winter. He would look to find or create more substantial shelter. He sensed he was getting closer to his goal. He could feel it as he went to sleep under his lean-to.
The next morning Jason lingered around his camp after breakfasting on Judy’s biscuits, a hard-boiled egg and some herb tea. Judy had insisted on giving him some eggs, biscuits, canned meat and mint tea, and Jason wanted to enjoy them. Suddenly he heard what sounded like shots in the distance, down in the valley from where he had come.
He stood and listened carefully; there were more sounds, definitely shots being fired.
He doused his campfire, grabbed his binoculars, and ran back down the two-track to a switchback where there was a break in the trees. The house was obscured but he could see two old pickup trucks in the front area. It was clear the gunfire was coming from the house.
Jason ran back to his camp, unstrapped his rifle, put a magazine in it, put three extra loaded magazines in his pocket, strapped on his pistol holster and set out on a run down the road, hoping he would not be too late. He ran until his lungs gave out, walked until he recovered, and started running again. At the bottom of the slope, he cut through some fields using a swath of woods to shield him from the house. The gunfire ended and before he reached the house he heard the trucks leaving.
At the edge of the woods, Jason stopped and scanned the house; no sign of anyone. With great caution, he approached the rear corner and tried the back door. It was locked. He went around to the front. The windows were shot out and the door was broken and hanging open. Crouching, with his rifle at ready he slowly entered the house.
He listened. There was no sound from inside. The furniture was knocked about and overturned. Creeping further into the house, he found Sam’s body in the hallway on the way to the kitchen. He had been shot multiple times. Blood was spattered everywhere. A pool of blood seeped out from under his body. Jason grimaced as his stomach heaved. It had been some years since he had seen a dead body, especially a friend. Tears welled up in his eyes. He brushed them away and ventured further into the house looking for Judy. The kitchen was ransacked, the table was overturned. Cabinets were torn open and emptied. He found a part of Judy’s dress torn and lying on the floor but he could not find her.
After the Fall: Jason's Tale Page 6