Renewal

by Jf Perkins

  About that time, two patrol cars pulled up in the middle of the road. Four deputies got out and one switched on a megaphone. “Folks, sorry for the inconvenience today, but we have been told to take steps to ensure your safety. We’d like to ask anyone who can move their vehicle at this point to please drive right up here,” he pointed to the west, “To North Elementary. It’s right up there. We’d also like to remind you, for your safety, to make no attempt to drive anywhere else. We are setting up the school as a temporary shelter, and the shelter will be able to accommodate your needs. We hope to resolve the situation and get everyone on their way as soon as possible. Thank you for your cooperation.”

  Two of the deputies, one on each side of the road, began directing traffic and the cars slowly filtered out of the parking lot. Another deputy was on the radio. After about half of the cars were gone, he waved at Deputy Megaphone, who picked up his loudspeaker. “Folks, we just a got a report that North Coffee is full. The rest of you good folks are asked to follow the military truck down there…“ He pointed the other way. “…to Hickerson Elementary. It’s a little farther down the road, but will be as well stocked as the other shelter very soon. Please proceed carefully. Thank you again for your cooperation.”

  With fewer cars remaining, the lots were draining rapidly. Dad sent us back to our seats, where we had to burrow under all the stuff from Wal-Mart. He started the car and eased out into the long line heading down Highway 41. After a few minutes, we took a right, and then shortly, another left. Next thing we knew, somebody in an orange vest was waving us into the school parking lot. We followed the cars in front of us to a parking space on the grass, all the way into the back corner of the fenced school yard. Since we were trained from birth to despise sloppy parking, I remember thinking what a lousy parking job Dad did, but I quickly realized he was one step ahead of the crowd again. He left almost a full space between the station wagon and the back fence, and left the car sticking out so that there was at least a ten foot gap in front of the car.

  “We were lucky. This is the best spot in the whole place,” Dad announced. We were baffled, of course. How could we possibly park any farther from the playground we had seen on the way in? “Let’s just wait a few minutes.”

  When our corner of the yard was full and traffic was directed to another area, Dad started the car again and painstakingly turned it around, so that the back of the station wagon was facing the fence. Since no one was watching, he took the opportunity to cheat even more space on the fence-facing sides of the car. Mom watched him in wonder, until he told her, “No way they have cots and stuff here yet. I wanted more room to camp. And if we need to make a quick getaway, we’re facing in the right direction.” Mom still looked confused, and decided to compensate by rolling her eyes at him. He was kind of famous in our house for doing things that made no sense to the rest of us.

  Dad said, “Kirk, you come with me. Everyone else, stay in the car. If anyone comes close, lock the doors and talk to them through a crack in the window, ok?”

  A ragged chorus of agreement from the rest of us, except for Tommy, who was awake, but he still looked bleary-eyed and confused.

  “Beth, try the radio and see if you can learn anything. We’re going to go see what the deal is, and we’ll be back as quick as we can.”

  It was late in the day, the sun had just set, and we were beginning to wonder about the things kids do. Where’s dinner? Where do we sleep? Where can we get some TV or video games around here? Stuff like that…

  We listened to the radio, hearing news that we didn’t understand about the Chinese, the North Koreans, Iran, Israel, the Middle East. Mom was taking notes on a little yellow pad, preparing for the details my Dad would surely want to know. People were out and walking around, but no one came close to us in the back corner. Thinking back, I imagine that what my dad saw as the best place to park, they saw as the darkest and scariest corner, the wild outback of the schoolyard, and maybe most importantly, the farthest from the restrooms and the unconscious feeling of security that indoor facilities provide. It was peaceful sitting as a family, windows down, an evening breeze stirring the few insects that had emerged early in the season, listening to the crispy murmur of the radio. We did not know it was the last peaceful evening we would have for years.

  Dad and Kirk came back to the car. Mom pushed the lock switch and the electric locks chunked heavily. Dad waited until Kirk had burrowed into the backseat, watching the roaming people in the field before he got in himself. He first looked at my mother and held her eyes for a beat longer than normal, shook his head just a bit, and then he turned to all of us and made another big announcement, “Well gang. Looks like we’re going to camp out here tonight.” He smiled like it was another good time family adventure, but we already knew better.

  As twilight settled in, Dad pulled a bundle out from under the tarp on the roof and starting assembling a big green and yellow tent. There was a fair amount of fumbling, grumbling and what my mom called ‘no-words’ being said, but Mom held the flashlight patiently and pretty soon, the tent was up. That’s when we understood that no matter how much we had heard our father complaining about people who could not park straight, he was always thinking about the next step. The tent fit between the side of the car and the back fence with about 3 feet to spare. Dad leaned in on Kirk and Lucy and pulled out some rolled up bundles. He tossed them into the tent, one by one until we counted eight bundles. Then he came around to the back, where Tommy and I were, and pulled our normal gym-bag luggage out from under our feet, and threw them on the grass. We thought the whole deal was weird. We had been camping before, but we thought of camping as a gravel patch in a state park with a picnic table, fire ring, water tap, and an electric outlet for each campsite.

  When he was done, he had Kirk go in and roll out all the pads and sleeping bags. Dad tossed in our duffle bags and directed Kirk to line them up at the head end of the sleeping bags. We understood from previous camping that those were our pillows. Dad dug out a little LED lantern and had Kirk hang it from a loop in the top of the tent. We were itching to get in the new tent and rummage around, but Dad had other ideas. He took us up to the school building in two groups and had us use the restroom. He said it might get really crowed later on. Cars were still trickling into the schoolyard as the evening progressed. When he had us all back at the car, he gathered us around.

  “Ok, kids. First thing…” He handed each of us a little Maglite flashlight, each in a different color. Mine was silver. Each light had a little belt pouch made out of black cloth. Dad said, “These are your lights. You keep them with you wherever you go from now on, no matter what. You can keep them in your pocket, you can use the belt holder, or you can hold it in your hand, but you will not leave them anywhere. Ok? And by the way, I know each of your colors, so if I see your light sitting alone somewhere, I’ll know who broke the rules.”

  This was serious. Gifts in our family usually came with fun and joy; this came with a threat from our mild mannered father. It had the aspect of a church service, all solemn and serious. We were struck by the tone and took it seriously. He continued, “And these are your knives.” Dad handed Kirk and me a small belt knife. We could barely resist the male urge to pull them out and start cutting something. Lucy got a black Gerber folding knife, and Tommy got a traditional little three-blade folding pocket knife. It was small, but real, and as his first real knife, Tommy took it with great seriousness. Dad said, “The same rules apply. These knives are not toys; they are tools. If I see you messing around with them, you will lose yours. Keep them with you at all times. If you are wearing clothes, these knives are with you. If not, they better be where you can reach them.” We thought it was getting a little overboard at that point, but hey, we got knives! We didn’t realize how important those rules would become.

  Mom took Tommy into the tent and lay with him while Dad continued his talk. “Things are ok right now, understand? But…” He looked at all of us in turn, “They could get bad
. We’ll talk more about what that means soon, but for right now, you should know that we hit China very hard. China had a lot of short range weapons they used against some of our friends, like Japan. North Korea, which is a friend of China, sort of, is trying to fight us and their enemies in South Korea at the same time. Our friends in Israel, in the Middle East, caught wind of some of their enemies planning to attack them, so they did what is called a pre-emptive strike, which means they hit first with nuclear weapons. The entire Middle East is a wasteland now. Most of our oil comes from that part of the world, so at the very least, gas is going to get very expensive, and very hard to find. People in our country are going to get upset.”

  We must have looked confused, because he said, “Listen guys, I know it doesn’t make much sense right now, and that’s not even all of it. Maybe we can find a map so I can show you where all these places are. For now, don’t worry, we’ll be ok. I know it’s early for you guys, but I’d like to try and get some sleep. I think it’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

  We were dumbfounded. Kirk was always the no-nonsense one, so when he stood up and went straight to the tent, Lucy and I gave Dad a quick hug and followed. When we were all in our sleeping bags, and Tommy was sound asleep, my Mom switched the little lantern off, and went outside. She zipped up the screen door, but left the solid cloth door open. We watched for a while as Mom and Dad took everything off the roof of the car, and locked it in the back. Then they got in the front seat, turned on the radio, and started talking. I remember wondering where they we going to sleep as I drifted off to sleep myself.

  I woke up confused about where I was, but as soon as I saw my brothers, I relaxed and then it all came back. The next thought was about where my parents were. Someone had zipped up the door panel, and I could only see the early light filtered through yellow cloth, which made it seem sunny, but when I unzipped the door, I realized it was very early, and the sun wasn’t even up yet. My movement woke up Kirk and he followed me out of the tent. Mom and dad were lying on the front seats of the station wagon, which were folded back as far as the seats would go. At least my mom was. My dad was still tuning the old chrome knobs on the two radios to pick up as much news as possible. The back of the wagon was packed to the ceiling, which made me think for a moment that Tommy and me were going to be left here, traded for goats or something, but then I saw that the back seat was clear now, so the plan was probably to pack us all into the back seat. Dodged a bullet there, I guess.

  My dad must have seen us moving around. I saw him turn his face to us, and the look on his face, red eyes, dark circles, and something else in his eyes, was a sight I could never forget. Then it changed back to his dad face. He reached down, cranked the window a few turns and quietly said, “Mornin’ boys. Sleep alright?”

  Kirk replied, “Yes, Dad. Don’t you and mom have a tent?”

  “Yes, son. We’ve got one, but right now, the important thing is to figure out what’s going on, and to keep an eye on you guys.”

  “Oh, ok…” Kirk looked around, trying to decide what to do next.

  Dad got out of the car, trying not to wake up Mom, but as soon as the door latch clicked she looked over at us too.

  Dad gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry, hon. I was trying to be quiet.”

  “I know, but who can sleep in a car anyway?”

  “Good point. Maybe we’ll do better tonight.”

  They were both out now, and stretching some obvious kinks out of their backs. Lucy crawled out of the tent, looking like sleeping on the ground was her least favorite activity ever invented. It still is, far as I know.

  “Beth, could you take Lucy up to the school? The boys and I will guard the car until you get back. Lucy, don’t forget your flashlight and knife,” Dad said with a stern look. Lucy rolled her eyes and climbed back into the tent. We had enough time to see that Mom and Dad were both wearing a couple of new pouches on their belts. It wasn’t a do-as-I-say thing, then. Lucy came out again with a light in one hand and a folded knife in the other and made a dramatic show of stuffing them both into her blue jean pockets. She and Mom started winding their way up to the building in the faintly drifting morning mist.

  As soon as they were gone, Dad said, “Ok boys, we’ve got a job to do. Anyone need to go number two?” Bathroom talk was way off our normal list of topics, so I doubt we would have admitted it even if we did, but we both shook our heads and hoped that Tommy would agree. Dad pulled a big pair of pliers out of the toolbox he kept in the car, and walked to the post on the very corner of the fence. He looked around, told us to stand behind him, then squatted down and started cutting the chain links of the back fence wire as close to the post as he could. Kirk and I looked at each other. Dad kept cutting until he was about four feet off the ground. Then he pulled some come coat hanger wire out of the toolbox, and bent it to make a clip. He tried the clip on the bottom of the fence he had just cut, and then made a few adjustments. When he was happy with his results, he pulled the clip off again, and held the wire open for us.

  “Let’s go, boys.”

  We ducked through the opening and into the heavy brush on the other side. Dad took his belt knife and cut some of the brush in a way that we didn’t understand, but when he was done, it still looked like impenetrable brush, but we could walk through to a tiny clearing about ten feet from the fence. Looking back, we could barely see the schoolyard, and Dad seemed satisfied.

  “Ok, guys. This looks like a good spot.” He faced away from us, and started to urinate on a convenient bush. We looked at each other again, trying to understand this latest bonding ritual, and followed suit. After we were all zipped up, he led us back through the fence, clipped the bottom of the wire so that it looked more or less normal, and walked back out to the small open space behind our car.

  “Good job, boys.”

  Kirk asked, in his usual direct way, “Why did you cut the fence?”

  “Escape hatch. If we need to get out of here, we won’t have time to cut through the fence, so we’re doing it now, while everyone is still asleep. I clipped it at the bottom so hopefully no one will notice.”

  Kirk was not satisfied. “Why would we need to escape? Won’t we just drive out the way we came in?”

  Dad paused for a long few seconds and replied, “That’s tough one to answer, since we really don’t know what will happen, but it’s better to play it safe, don’t you think?”

  “I guess…” was Kirk’s answer. He clearly couldn’t imagine such a problem. I couldn’t either.

  “Anyway, we’ve tested it, and we won’t use it again unless we need to. Ok?”

  Tommy crawled out of the tent before we could answer, and immediately asked Dad where Mom had gone.

  “She’ll be back in a minute, bud.”

  Right on cue, Mom and Lucy showed up. Mom said, “Honey, they’ve got a TV set up in the front hall. You might want to go watch for a few minutes.”

  “Ok. I’ll take Tommy for a potty break. Can you scrounge up some breakfast?”

  The word “breakfast” immediately set my mouth watering, and I remembered that we hadn’t had any dinner last night. You can only go so long on convenience store hotdogs.

  “Ok. I think I can find something.”

  Dad and Tommy headed for the school, and Mom stood there with her finger on her lower lip, lost in thought. Then she opened the back of the car and started digging around. Kirk and Lucy and I started looking around, but Mom quickly told us to stay close. We took that as an excuse to go sit in the tent and to talk about the situation. The problem was, none of us understood any of it. On a normal Saturday morning, we would be in front of the TV, watching cartoons and thinking about how we could talk our parents out of all the cool toys we saw on the commercials. Even today, we expected to be sitting in front of our cousins’ TV, doing pretty much the same thing. Here we were, in a tent in schoolyard, half way between home and who knows where, trying to decode the mystery of the world in a whole new way.

  By th
e time Dad made it back with Tommy, we were well into a game that involved calling each other the worst names we thought we could get away with, and Mom had come up with a breakfast of oatmeal cooked on a camp stove, bananas and some kind of granola bars. Dad shrugged and figured it was better not to comment. We munched on our breakfast as Dad told my mother his assessment of what he had seen on TV.

  “…and the people in cities have figured out that they are not allowed to leave. The president has declared martial law in a bunch of them where people are rioting and looting. I never expected that to happen so fast. I guess they think they are big fat targets for whatever missiles come our way. He also publically announced the shutdown of the entire interstate system until further notice, but he said that he expected things to be back to normal in two to three days. He said that we have won the war with China already, and the surviving government has agreed to terms, so that’s good, I guess.”

  “The downside is that Mexicans have taken the opportunity to pour over the border and they are fighting with people in the Southwest and Texas. I wouldn’t want to pick a fight in Texas… Anyway, FEMA says that they have mobilized shipments to the problem areas, but no one can claim that they have seen any aid arrive. It’s a mess.”