Shatto's Way

by Roy F. Chandler

  Toby was impressed with their dialogue and anxious to hear from Chop, but he had his own questions to be answered, "How do you propose to doctor when you have only a few instruments and no drugs that I have seen?"

  Ginsberg perked with interest, "We will do what we can with herbs and anything we can salvage. Surely abandoned homes and perhaps villages will turn up supplies, possibly equipment.

  "In time we will equip a small office. We will enlarge it as it is needed and as we can. We would hope that outside patients—not from this village—would appear and perhaps pay in part with salvaged pills, bandage, a pair of tweezers; who can say?

  "We will build on it carefully, as you obviously have this village. Someday we might boast a broad-based medical facility that could more than pay its way . . . but that would be far in the future, I fear."

  He brightened again. "In the meantime, our people will be more healthy and we will train nurses and assistants." He hesitated, dreaming a little to himself. "And, yes, we will educate doctors, for where else in this mad new world will it be done?"

  Toby Shatto began to love the smaller man. Such dreams he too could feel and believe in. If Chop concurred, he could quite shortly thrill his doctors to their cores.

  Clouser came back grinning and shaking his head.

  "Toby, Doc James is damned sure unusual!" Chop jolted the older doctor with a clap on the shoulder and ignored the resulting glare, "But he's a man for us. He's got my vote. How about your doctor, Tob?"

  Toby deferred an answer, choosing instead to review the conditions demanded of his people. He dug deep and hard without sparing feelings or showing his increasing satisfaction. Finally he relented, and stood to shake their hands in mutual acceptance. Only then did he take them into the cave to examine certain sections only recently organized and growing always larger.

  For a few minutes the doctors basked under the glow of solar-powered electric lights and admired shelves groaning with supplies of essentials.

  Finally they halted before an array of bins and wooden-doored shelves. Toby leaned against a convenient bench and explained, "As Doctor Ginsberg pointed out, the United States was overwhelmingly the greatest pill-gobbling, remedy-seeking society of all time. The excesses of that culture are rotting in ruins and lying forsaken in collapsed pharmacies. The countryside is awash with medicines and supplies.

  "Since our inception this spring, we've sought out those places. We've hunted down the defunct drug stores, the local doctor's home, the dentist's office, and the nurse's closet. Much has been lost, but our teams are still digging. This is what we have found." He began opening cabinets and bins.

  The doctors stood speechless before drawers of shining instruments, shelves of medicines and racks of bandages. The practical Ginsberg muttered a half believing, "Oh my God," and began whipping through labels and examining the tools of his profession.

  Doctor Bernard James slumped against a table, and Toby saw tears line his face. Unashamed, the doctor mopped at them with a ragged sleeve.

  "Could there be a sight more welcome to these old eyes? Surely it would have to be heaven itself." He found the strength to begin surveying the barely organized medical section.

  They examined each item as if it demanded utmost delicacy. They oohed and aahed over cans of ether, with James holding one aloft and declaring it an elixir of the gods.

  Toby let them continue for a while before shooing them forth. Still stunned by "Aladdin's Cave," they came into the sunlight bursting with questions.

  "Those are riches beyond compare, Mr. Shatto. As your physicians, are we to have use of them?

  "With them we can go beyond the simple aid we had imagined. We can again be doctors. We can heal and mend. Why we can perform simple surgeries. We. . ."

  "Can you pull teeth?" Toby's question startled them.

  "What? Pull teeth?"

  "Yes, and do it so there isn't suffering and mouth infections and abscesses and all that rotten stuff."

  Doctor James had a finger raised to pontificate but Ginsberg cut him off, "We are not dentists, Mr. Shatto, but 'Pull teeth', as you put it: absolutely!

  "You have anesthetic, assorted plier-type instruments, scalpels, and sutures. And, you have antibiotics! Bring on your teeth, Mr. Shatto. James and Ginsberg stand ready!"

  "Well, they aren't my teeth, but we've enough in the village to start you off.

  "Now, let's get down to a few more details.

  "First of all, you can inventory what we have and describe other things you might like. We already save every pill or medicine we find, so I am referring to things like operating tables, lights, scales . . . Hell, I don't know, but you'll get what we can find.

  "You and Chop can look around the farms near here and pick out a building that'll suit. It'll take awhile, but we'll drag it in and fix it up. You'll get water and electricity—I'll explain about the limitations on electricity later.

  "Now, anybody in this village you work on free. They get anything we have or any help you can give."

  Toby then got serious looking. "Everybody else pays! Now, don't take that statement lightly. People will begin coming, once word gets around that you're here. They'll come in pain and sickness. We owe them nothing and you remember that!

  "Alright. When they come, we want them bringing something we can use. We'll take almost anything, but you'll be wise to demand medical stuff when you can. If your supplies run out, you are out of business. But long before that, in fact, anytime I think our supplies are dwindling, I'll close you down. Is that clear?"

  It was, and he continued . . . "On the other hand, when someone comes in empty-handed, do what you can, but insist that they owe and insist that they pay. Keep records. No free lunches, and that had better be clear."

  Teeth extracted, boils lanced, itches relieved and rashes healed. The clinic building was dragged in, scrubbed out, heavily insulated and furnished.

  It got done embarrassingly fast, and Toby belatedly realized how urgently the entire community had wanted a doctor.

  Ginsberg was right. The arrogant, patronizing, sarcastic Doctor James was loved like a grandfather.

  Women mothered him and men smiled contentedly at his antics. Toby didn't understand it either, but it worked, so he liked it.

  Villagers received attention before outsiders, but Toby insisted they assert their right with humility and graciousness.

  All others paid. They began trickling in a week or two after the clinic opened. Word spread in the usual mysterious way and strangers came bearing gifts and pains.

  A woman brought two hens and a rooster. One man had fresh fish. Many offered bottles of pills, salves, and the accumulations of pre-destruction bathroom medicine cabinets. The clinic shelves grew full.

  Following the first operation, a simple but vital appendectomy, Toby quit watching. When the clinic added a small building and equipped it as a hospital ward he hardly noticed. His doctors were more than paying their way and he was both satisfied and grateful. The small clinic moved Shatto's Way another stride toward civilization.

  +++

  The largest fly in Toby Shatto's ointment was the band of toughs that lived below old Duncannon in the Kin Kora buildings. From that secure fortress they sallied forth like black knights to demand tolls and ransoms. They robbed, they plundered, and occasionally they crossed the Juniata and turned Shatto's way.

  They knew about the village and its growing richness.

  Toby had enough evidence of that, and if nothing was done, they would one day appear at his gates.

  A Colonel Vance Kellog had gained control in Harrisburg and had dispatched a number of syrupy declarations and suggestions that he and "Colonel Shatto" meet to compare notes and agree on friendly and mutually profitable cooperation. Toby had answered each with disclaimers that he was not interested in expanding. Each time, he pointedly mentioned the outlaws assuming power along the Susquehanna and their increasingly objectionable presence at Kin Kora.

  He suggested that an of
ficer with Colonel Kellog's military strength and expertise could and should rid his area of such dangerous bandits.

  To those suggestions he received no answers, and the burning of Joe Long's barn right in their own valley convinced him that he and his people would have to shoulder another task and do the job themselves.

  +++

  The Chesapeake had allowed them easy passage and had not summoned the vicious line squalls which had made her notorious in late summer.

  The catamaran touched lightly at an unoccupied dock below the remains of the Conowingo Dam. A massive hole had been torn in the great cement wall and the Susquehanna burst through it in a powerful torrent that might allow fish to fight their way upstream but barred watercraft as completely as the dam once had.

  They could go no further. To get this far they had sailed like Olympic champions and only a favoring wind from the south had allowed them to work upriver against the current.

  Across the dock an old man fished with apparent unconcern for the unusual sight of a large sailboat arriving. He managed a nod to Hanna's bright "Good morning" and turned a phlegmatic eye on her, the boy, and the boat.

  "You plannin' on leavin' that boat there, missy?"

  "Can't think of a better place, Pop. Any reason I shouldn't?"

  "Yup, and don't call me. Pop, young lady.

  "Fact is, you're already lucky or some of the people around here would of started down to take the boat away from you."

  Hanna was more than a little worried, but put up a good front. "Well, we'd shoot back if we had to."

  The old man snorted, "Shoot at what? The woods? They wouldn't come out and pose for you, girl. Haven't seen any of 'em around for a few days so you might be safe, but I wouldn't count on it, I was you."

  "Want to buy a boat, sir? We'd like to sell."

  The old man cackled, slapping his thigh. "Gal, there ain't nobody around here with anything to buy anything.

  "It's all been stole or used up. Where you been, gal, to talk like that?"

  "We've sailed a long way and I guess we'd better hear just how bad things are around these parts."

  The old-timer laid his pole aside and hitched himself comfortable to do serious talking.

  "Well, I'm the man for you, that's for sure. Can't do much else but I can shorely still talk as good as ever.

  "Seein' you've been away, I'll tell you how it is real quick, so's you can start leaving afore you're caught up in somethin' you can't handle.

  "Things is so bad that nothin' is runnin'. In fact, nothing is even walkin'." Amused by his own humor, he slapped and chuckled again.

  "The meanest ones are runnin' as wild as they want. People get killed 'cause there's no law anywhere. Nobody can have anything without somebody else finds out and steals it.

  "All the government's gone, the cities already emptied their garbage onto us, and most of the locals have either took to hidin' or joined up with the mean ones.

  "Take me, for instance. They let me alone 'cause I got nothin' they can use. If'n I catch a fish they might take it or they might not. If they do, I just come down an' try for another. Ain't much of a life, but at least I ain't gettin' pounded on an' burnt out like most others."

  "Old man, you're in bad shape all right. And I think you are telling us that it isn't safe anywhere around here and that we'd better get undercover and stay there, is that it?"

  "That's the short of it, gal."

  Hanna turned to Carter. "You heard him. Carter. It's worse than we thought. We'll make up two packs and carry all the food we can because it looks like we won't be buying any. We'll take the shotgun and a blanket apiece; one jacket each and our big hats to keep off rain or sun."

  "How's that sound to you, old man?"

  "Sounds about right, if it don't take too long. My name's Andrew; you can call me Andy."

  "Alright, Andy, any other suggestions we could use?"

  "Yep, wherever you're goin' travel at night and don't use roads. An' don't tell me where it is you're headin'. I don't want anybody even thinkin' that I know."

  They moved quickly and were soon ready with a blanket filled and rolled across a shoulder to the opposite hip. Hanna took a last look at the boat and turned away, teeth gritted. Battered and tired, she could probably have carried them back across the oceans if they had asked it of her, but their path now lay north into the mountains and the boat had to be left behind. She could not afford to dwell over the loss now.

  "Andy, you'd better take what you want off this boat before those other people get down here. There's a radio and lots of good things. You're as welcome as the mean ones, you know."

  "Well, that's kindly, missy, but if I had somethin' they'd find out and take it away. Guess I'll keep to my fishin' an' let 'em have her."

  Hanna and Carter moved into the woods and headed for higher ground. Their pace would be slow with muscles weak from inactivity, but they only had two hundred or so miles. By following the Susquehanna they couldn't get lost.

  Further along, the river would become familiar to Hanna and she would know places to stop and rest. Still, the worst stories they had heard seemed to be true so they would remain out of sight the whole way to Pfoutz Valley, if they could.

  From above they looked back to see the catamaran looking toy-like and Andy still fishing at the dock.

  +++

  Since his world had collapsed the Reverend Kermit Mantis had not been successful. His Perry County congregation had immediately begun melting away until only a bare dozen of the most fanatical remained.

  Hungry and desperate, he had aroused them by haranguing their easily outraged righteousness against the foul hoarder, Toby Shatto. He had believed Shatto would surrender and open his door to them. If he had. Mantis was prepared to spare him. If he had not, his two men were ready to act without mercy at the cave's escape hatch. Shatto's murderous attack destroyed his band, and those who survived fled and thereafter avoided him as they would have a plague.

  He had drifted south to the fired desolation of Harrisburg. He and others had survived in a dank cellar under the burnt-out husk of Strawberry Square. In so doing he had unwittingly saved himself from the invisible radiation that killed or sickened so many.

  In the spring he again chose a losing side and escaped the city only yards ahead of Colonel Kellog's conquering brigade.

  He was impressed by Kellog who, mounted on his armored car, directed the final assault with a loudspeaker. To Mantis, the Colonel looked like the man to follow, but the time would have to be right or he might be hung in the Market Street square as some others had.

  In time, Mantis attached himself to a group holed up in the partly destroyed Kin Kora home. He lived as they did, preying on movers and reluctantly sharing what he could not safely secret away.

  The memory of Shatto's treasure cave haunted his thoughts.

  There, only two days away, lay riches beyond imagining. In his fantasies he saw himself as holder of the cave's wealth, able to disburse largesse as he willed while accepting the favors of a new and grateful congregation.

  He encouraged individuals of his band to go to Pfoutz Valley, implying ready profits but not mentioning the cave. Of those who tested the waters, few returned and those who did proclaimed the growing community too strong to attack. Their reports soured other adventurers and the band as a whole refused to consider his glowing assurances of easy pickings.

  At best, Kin Kora was a loosely knit group. Leadership changed often with irregular comings and departures. Numbers and viciousness determined power, and Mantis hung only on the fringes, unable to gain followers but quick to shift allegiance to whomever was currently dominant.

  Without influence, he became increasingly cunning. He slept with an escape route handy and ate apart where someone stronger would not seize his food. He was tolerated as an extra body willing to go along but expecting little reward.

  He also knew the area, which many did not, and as the band continuously reformed, he became the longest lasting member
and had information of possible ventures as well as those already plundered.

  During his ministry, Mantis had marveled at the almost anxious gullibility of his following. He had appeared with only a bible and ringing phrases, but people had nodded approval and voiced support for his questionable pronouncements and often imaginative quotations.

  He had liked the sound of "Reverend Mantis" and dutifully accepted the respectful consideration of his opinions by nearly everyone. He wondered why he had never before understood the obvious rewards of being a rural minister.

  He chose his biblical subjects following a simple reading. He absorbed a few convenient quotations and made up others as needed. He also developed a purse-lipped, silent look of special knowledge or unspoken understanding that he used effectively when he simply didn't know what to say. The look served him well, as the recipient could apply any meaning to it that satisfied his needs.

  Although only peripherally educated and without hint of ordination, his confidently pronounced views and interpretations were accepted, and his use of collection monies was unquestioned. He had begun to move within the county's accepted societies and became convinced of an increasingly comfortable material condition.

  The loss of all of everything seemed to have begun at the Clouser Thanksgiving and Toby Shatto's attendance. In his mind, the unsatisfactory hoarding discussion with Shatto became one with the great upheaval, and he chose not to separate the two.

  Now he had nothing. He lived in squalor and hardly dared to sleep lest he be stabbed or robbed. His future appeared as unpromising as the present, and he saw no immediate way of changing either.

  Frustrated, he fostered his hatred of Toby Shatto and plotted complicated revenges. In his darkest periods he thought of Shatto living high in his stocked cave. He imagined him dining richly, entertained by admiring attendants, while the Reverend Mantis crouched like an animal within dank ruins.

  Someday he would again encounter Toby Shatto—he vowed it—and then he would exact just and complete vengeance.