Behind The Curve-The Farm | Book 1 | The Farm

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Behind The Curve-The Farm | Book 1 | The Farm Page 6

by Craven III, Boyd


  “Ranger, heel up,” Angelica said, making sure the dog was paying attention to her. “Come meet Roscoe.”

  Roscoe got to his feet slowly, stretching his big body out and let out a loud chuff, then walked to meet Angelica and Ranger. Both dogs were wagging their tails, sniffing the sniffs only dogs could do to communicate. Ranger let out a chuff, then rubbed his head against the big hound dog’s neck. Roscoe started licking the side of the smaller dog’s head. Ranger let him.

  “You know, I never realized how big Roscoe was until I saw how big Ranger is. What is he, over a hundred and twenty pounds?”

  “Closer to one forty,” Rob said. “Thanks for inviting us out.”

  “Beer’s in the Yeti,” Steven said, motioning to the cooler with the BBQ tongs, “and we’ve also got pop. Dante found some moonshine in the barn that Anna mixed up with a pitcher of lemonade… Found the recipe in Dewey’s cookbook his momma passed down to him.”

  “Moonshine?” Goldie asked, a big smile on her lips.

  “Come on, I’ll pour you some,” Anna said, taking her arm and leading her in.

  “Thick as thieves already,” Angelica said with a grin. “Looks like I’m going to have some competition, huh Harry?”

  “Nope. You said you gave up moonshine the last time you got in trouble,” he said with a shy grin.

  “She did?” Curt asked.

  Angelica blushed and turned to Harry. “Ok squirt, don’t tell all our secrets yet.”

  Harry smiled. “Can I go see the chickens?”

  “Sure thing,” Curt told him.

  “Ranger, go with him,” Angelica said, as the little boy took off running, followed by both dogs.

  The group said grace, holding hands. They had put a picnic table and the dining room table together on the front porch. Everybody had gotten to know each other and even Roscoe had made a new friend. His little buddy Ranger was sitting beside him, watching as everybody passed bowls and plates around. Grandma Goldie had brought out the pitcher of special lemonade and was refilling cups.

  “So, do you want to talk in private, or…”

  “This is fine,” Rob said when Curt started talking. “We sort of all decide as a family.” He hugged Harry close with one arm.

  “Ok, well, let me give you a rundown on what we want to do around here first. If you are not scared, we’ll keep going.”

  “Sure,” Rob said, looking at Angelica who nodded.

  “Each of our families is going to build a 1,200 square foot cabin in the flat spot over there once the basement is poured and ready. We’re talking about building a workshop for the docs,” Curt said, nodding to Andrea, Leah and Dante. “Think of it more like a three or four room space with an office and waiting area. We are going to bring in supplies to outfit it like a small emergency care center. It’ll have a basement storage as well, but we’re going to keep that one secret to the public, because that’s where we’ll probably store supplies that have to be locked up.”

  “Are you planning on doctoring right here on the farm?” Goldie asked.

  “For ourselves, yes,” Dante said after he swallowed a bite of chicken, “but maybe eventually we’ll start our own practice out here someday.”

  “Hm…” Rob said, scratching his chin.

  “We were considering building a separate machine shop, but we might do that in the basement,” Anna admitted, “plus I got about three progressive reloaders I want to set up.”

  “Wait, are you guys going to tear this place down?” Angelica asked, pointing the thumb over her shoulder at the old farmhouse.

  “It’s seen better days, but we’re going to fix it up some. Steven here is the builder in our group, and all of us have swung a hammer at some point,” Curt said. “I mean, if you guys want to move in there and Rob takes a salary starting at about $45,000… would that be fair?”

  Rob dropped his fork and Angelica reached over and pushed his mouth closed. Harry started giggling at his parents' faces.

  “What are you giggling about, stinker?” Leah asked him.

  “Daddy only gets that look on his face when he’s thinking hard or pooping. I hope he’s not pooping!”

  “Not at the dinner table,” Goldie said, popping him in the back of the head lightly.

  “Um… Are…” Rob was at a loss.

  “Some of us are going to have to stay here until the cabins are built, but it’s got five bedrooms, a full kitchen, multiple bathrooms and a basement. If the money is not enough, tell me and…”

  Angelica got up and walked around the table to where the group was. She had an odd expression on her face. Dante got up in alarm, not wanting a monkey stomped ass, and started backing away when he bumped into Steven and Anna who had had the same idea.

  She rushed them, hugging them all one by one and started laughing, crying, then laughing some more.

  “I think that means yes,” Harry told Curt solemnly.

  “I think so too,” Curt agreed. “I’m sorry we don’t have more kids to play with here.”

  “You have chickens and pigs and goats and cows and…”

  “Goats, we have goats?” Curt asked, confused.

  Rob took another bite of his chicken leg, then reached over for the pitcher and refilled the adults’ glasses. “Let’s look at the house, but I’m like 99.99% sure Angelica would skin me alive if I said no.”

  Goldie followed Curt, Andrea, and Rob inside the house, going through it, room by room. Goldie followed them upstairs and was happy to see there was almost as much room up as down. Rob was happy with what he saw. The crappy apartment they were in was a thousand times worse than the farmhouse. It looked like it needed a few patches in the drywall and some paint, but it had been cleaned, and the roof fixed already.

  “What do you think?” Curt asked Rob.

  “When do I start?”

  Nine

  The next two weeks were a whirlwind of projects, meetings, and anxiety. The first crew who came out was not comfortable digging a basement and laying the concrete because of the potential for problems with the limestone and rock. Steven fired them and got another crew to come in, showing them the site plan and the blueprints of what they wanted to do. This crew said they could do it, but it would not be like building a basement in a house up north, where the soil was sandier. Steven had planned on that actually and had plans to divert groundwater into a filtration system they would use to partially supply the cabins with water, along with the two wells already on the farm.

  They were a little confused by how the basement was going to be dug though. Not only was it going to be one large structure that would sit beneath four planned cabins, it was getting a cement roof put on it, then soil, then the cabins would be built over the openings. The last thing left would be to build stairs going down. The permitting process was almost a laugh and they started the excavation right away.

  Two crews from the company worked on two of the projects at once. Both were digging basements; the doctor’s office and the huge basement the cabins would share. Square footage wise, the basement was going to end up with many times more square footage than what the cabins had combined. By design.

  “Any luck finding office space?” Steven asked as Curt and Roscoe got out of his suburban.

  “Yeah, I just bought a place in town. That old furniture and antiques shop that has been closed? I got a good deal on it.”

  “You bought it?” Steven asked, surprised.

  “Yeah, it was going to be cheaper than renting it,” he said with a sigh. “Considering we spent only a third of what we figured we would, 50k on the building felt like a steal, plus, it’s a business write off.”

  “You bought that building for 50k?” Steven asked, surprised.

  “Yeah, and it comes fully furnished,” he said, slapping his buddy across the chest, laughing.

  “Oh man,” Steve said with a groan. “So, I take it that it comes with all the junk inside?”

  “It’s not junk, there’s some real antique treasures in the
re!” Curt said, pretending to be offended, then he too was chuckling.

  “We’re really doing this,” Steven said aloud, watching the farm buzzing with mad activity.

  “It’s almost like a dream come true. Once the cap is poured on the basement, how long do you think it’ll take us to get the cabins up?”

  “About three days for the shells,” Steven said as he watched large excavators working.

  “Each? That’s fantastic!” Curt was ecstatic.

  “No, for all four,” he said, making Curt almost fall over.

  “What?” he asked quietly. “How?”

  “Found a supplier of ready built to code cabin sheds. The size we want and the specs we want. They have half a dozen on their site already. We’ll just need to give them a call when things are ready.”

  “Holy shit, I didn’t think they…”

  “Oh, they did. I thought you guys said it was cool?” Steven asked, knowing Curt had been the one coordinating with the rest of the group while he was keeping track of the construction, with the crews working day and night.

  “It is, we just thought that way was going to cost us an arm and a leg!” He was excited and trying not to show it.

  “We’re under budget so far, with everything,” Steven said. “Those shed cabins are about 20k unfinished. I can probably knock out all the rough, plumbing, and electric by myself, but if I bring my home crew in… I can probably do all of them in a week, including drywall.”

  “Holy shit. So, like… three weeks?”

  “More like two weeks, but I want to make sure the group is ok if I bring Luis and the crew here. We don’t have to tell them it’s ours, since the corporation owns it anyways.”

  “I’ll let the others know,” Steven said, excited. “Do you need me here for anything?”

  “Whatever I am not doing, Rob and Angelica are. You get under Grandma Goldie's feet though; she’s got a wooden spoon out today and isn’t afraid to use it.”

  Curt laughed at that. The Littles had moved in the past week. Rob and Angelica had been taking care of farm chores and handling the Farmer’s Market. Angelica had insisted since the group had opened their home to them, literally, she had no problem helping out. Little Harry was everyone’s buddy and the two dogs stayed out of shenanigans. It was good times.

  “Where’s Anna been training?” Curt asked him.

  “About thirty minutes west of here. There’s a gun range about ten minutes past the gym,” he said.

  “You know, when this is all done, we can get the real work done the way we want it.”

  “And we can unload our storage units, trailers and supplies,” Steven shot back. “Lord, I have so much stuff saved up.”

  “You know, when we’re all together this weekend, let's go fishing.”

  “That sounds good. Where?”

  “That catfish pond is almost rippling with fish right now. I thought it might be a good time to thin some out.”

  “Catfish nuggets,” Goldie said, coming up behind them. “You catch them fish, I’ll fry them up good.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Steven told her with a grin. “You think Harry will want to come?”

  “I hope he does. What you folks are doing for my family…” her words trailed off, then she caught her train of thought, “I appreciate that. I know this is all in the beginnings, but I want y'all to know, I’m in this to help too.”

  “Thank you,” Curt told her, touched.

  “Once Harry’s done with schoolwork, he’s going to help me check out the basement. If I need any heavy things moved, can I call on one or two of you?”

  “Sure thing,” Steven said thinking if he could not do it, there were probably three dozen guys on site who would. “What are you looking for?”

  “See what canned foods are still good, and which ones we should give to the pigs. That way I can clean jars ahead of this year's fall garden.”

  “I haven’t been down there,” Curt admitted. “Is there a lot?”

  “Thousands on thousands,” Goldie said. “Probably a lot of it from when Dewey’s wife had passed ten years back. Food might be good, might not be. It’s rare to find a house down here with a basement, but you got one, and it’s stocked.”

  “You said down here, where are you from originally?” Steven asked, interested.

  “Nebraska,” she said with a grin as Roscoe lifted his head up from his napping spot and howled at the noise going on. “My momma Lisa moved here with me when my poppa passed forever ago.”

  “You like it here?”

  “I love it. Are you going to get my son in trouble?” she asked suddenly.

  “How so?” Curt asked her, a bit alarmed.

  “You’re some of them doomsday preppers,” she said, like stating a fact. “You’re preparing for hard times. Both Rob and I saw the plans for the site where the cabins are going to be. You are putting thousands of square feet underground with dinky cabins on the top. I just… if you’re some kind of militia going to overthrow the government… he’s my only son.”

  For a second, they were quiet until Roscoe breached noise discipline when he lifted his tail, making everybody turn and stare at him.

  Curt tried to reassure her. “No, we’re just getting ready for hard times. We figured a group would be a better way to ride out any troubles, and we have been saving and planning for this a long time. I just wish…”

  “You don’t have any kids,” she said quietly.

  “Exactly,” Curt said, his chest constricting painfully, though it had nothing to do with a physical problem. “We want to, but we let our careers get in the way, and now we’re almost too old.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Steven said, “I’ll never be too old to do the wild…”

  His words were cut off and replaced with a yelp as the wooden spoon smacked his backside.

  Ten

  “Her oxygen levels are dropping,” Leah yelled.

  “Here’s the chest x-ray,” a nurse said, holding them in front of her.

  The woman had come in gasping for breath, her face beet red. They had rushed her back to emergency, and what they had found was both confusing and scary at the same time. Since the Wuhan Flu, as the news was calling it, had been making its way across the ocean, they had started wearing more and more serious PPE. This case was confusing because on one hand it was classic pneumonia and bronchitis type symptoms, but it was not responding at all to any normal treatment. When Leah had come back to check on her after being admitted, the woman had been almost unconscious.

  The crash team worked on her, intubating her until they could get a vent hooked up, and a nurse began pumping air into the woman’s lungs. The numbers kept going down - until they all stopped. As she flatlined, they started compressions until the defib was charged. The doctors and nurses continued to work on her, trying to bring her back until they were sure they had done all they could.

  The time of death was called, and the nurse who had rushed in the x-rays went out to check on another patient. She coughed her masked face into her elbow, not thinking about it. When she had come in earlier, she had forgotten to put on the top strap of the n95 mask that they had been wearing for potentially infectious patients.

  “Dante,” Andrea said, “make sure you scrub down good.”

  “I am, I heard about Leah’s patient,” he said quietly.

  “I’m bringing my own stuff in tomorrow,” she said. “Supply says our PPE is getting scarce, and we don’t even have confirmed cases of the Wuhan Flu here.”

  “It’s not the flu,” Dante said with a prolonged sigh.

  “I know. Tell me about your interesting case today,” she demanded.

  “Premature heart failure. I’m guessing the guy had been sick, but I have no clue if it’s related to anything,” he said pointedly, knowing Andrea would immediately think of the rumors that were going around about the new coronavirus coming out of China.

  “Premature? What kind of shape was the patient in, health wise?”

  �
��About what you’d expect,” he said. “The guy was heavy, smoked, high blood pressure.”

  “Ouch, so it could have been a ton of things,” she said, starting the washing process all over again.

  “Exactly.”

  “Paging Doctors Mallory, and both Doctor Weavers, please call 3479.”

  “Shit,” Dante hissed.

  “The big bosses,” she said, wincing.

  “Non doctoring, can’t count, penny pushers,” he said quietly.

  “Let’s go see what they want,” she said with a groan. “But first, wash up and put on some new masks.”

  “You’re scared of this new virus too much,” Dante told her.

  “Aren’t you?” she asked. “We don’t even have real numbers from the CDC yet, and I personally don’t trust what’s coming from the WHO.”

  “You’re right,” he said with a sigh.

  Dante, Leah, and Andrea, being the most senior doctors in their respective areas, sat with a few others who had been paged, on the business side of the hospital. They sat in shock as the penny pinchers gave their projections and asked for suggestions on where they could re-use PPE and other vital equipment.

  Shortages were in the future, and there had been a confirmed case just a few miles away, with it spreading quickly to forty. If the hospital was inundated with everyone who had a cough, bronchitis, and pneumonia type symptoms, with all this fear going on, they were going to run out of room, let alone a workable solution to quarantine properly. What blew them away was the shortages of personal protective equipment, or PPE.

  “In the instance of shortages, are we allowed to bring our own supplies of new, never used PPE for our own personal use?” Dante asked when it was his turn for a question or suggestion.

  “No, the board cannot approve that, our insurance coverage specifically states—”

  “So, what happens when we run out of supplies?” Dante asked the skinny little man with thick glasses, his bald pate sweating.

  “We’ll have to improvise,” he shot back.

 

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