by S A Ison
He knew it was a lot to ask, having other people move in. He was hoping when she met them, and then if they were in agreement, they could offer for Sayer and Joy to come to them should the shit hit the fan. If they could make it. He hadn’t met Joy, and didn’t know if they would all get along. It was a big unknown. That was scary.
“I won’t say yes right now. Let me get to know them. Hopefully we will have time to get set up.” She paused, and her brows knotted. “You know, I feel really bad that I’ve no real skills to survive.”
“Me too. I feel exactly the same, almost useless. But I’m learning from the guys at the hardware. I was thinking too, if there is an EMP from the detonations, we may have the solar panels and such set up, but it might fry them,” Pike said.
“So, what do you have in mind?” Margo asked, taking another sip.
“Once we move in, we should build a faraday cage within the room that houses the batteries and the inverter. I read about them online some time back. We can even buy a couple extra solar panels and put them in the faraday cage. That way, if something happens to one of the panels, we’ll have a replacement.”
“That is all good, but how on earth would we build a faraday cage big enough? And really, how in the heck does one build one?”
He rubbed his hands together and grinned. “I’ve been watching a lot of videos on DIY faraday cages. Really good stuff. We can go to salvage yards and find old metal lockers or sheets of metal. Then fit them in the room using the tape they use for ductwork in air conditioning and heating. That’s aluminum I believe. Trust me, they have a bunch of those kinds of videos on YouTube. There are different variations, but the main issue is sealing the room well. I think layers would work. We can even line the walls with industrial heavy-duty aluminum foil, then the metal sheeting, and seal it all together with the tape,” he said, blowing a rush of air out after saying so much. Then he laughed at himself, his eyes squinting with humor.
“Wow, aren’t you the little prepper?” Margo grinned. “That is a great idea. I was glad to find out that the propane tank is full. I had expected us to have to get it filled up. I just wish we didn’t have to pay for it,” she said.
“At least they only charged us what they paid for it and not today’s prices. That would have been crazy expensive,” Pike agreed.
“I’m looking into how to cook like old homesteaders. The videos and articles are really interesting. I’ve already got some recipes that would be good to cook on an open fire. Guess who’s going to be my guinea pig?” she laughed, her eyes crinkling.
Pike raised his glass. “Don’t mind a bit. I think the owners are leaving some of the furnishings. Maybe they will leave those cast iron pots and pans we saw in the basement too? I hope so, as that will save us from having to buy more. I’d like to save money where we can,” Pike said.
“I hope so too. We’re getting there, Pike. I’m really starting to think we’re making headway. Like I can breathe now. I don’t feel quite as frightened and out of control like I was before you got here. I’m really glad you are here,” she said, smiling at him.
Pike felt a warm glow suffuse his face and warmth radiated through his body. His heart beat heavy in his chest. He wanted to lean over to kiss her, but he didn’t. “I’m glad I’m here too, and I agree, I’m also breathing a little easier. Having forward momentum has a lot to do with it. As long as we keep going forward, learning and doing, I think we’ll be okay.” He placed his larger hand over her smaller one and squeezed gently.
She returned his smile. “I ordered a book on natural cures and edible plants that are native to Missouri, too,” Margo said, her tone almost shy now.
The conversation wound down and each were in their own thoughts. It had become awkward moment, and Pike wished he could rewind back to before he’d squeezed her hand. He gazed out at the night sky and wondered how he would be able to live with her and keep from touching her. He didn’t want to be relegated to the friend zone. God help him if he were.
Topeka, KS, 30 August 2018
Robert sat in the dark church, tears cascading down his face. Devon Nater sat beside him, silent. Robert tried to get himself under control, but it was difficult. Devon had been sent by his church and congregation to fire him. FIRE HIM!
He was so humiliated and devastated. He tried to look at Devon through tears. “I don’t understand it Devon. I’ve been here for over four years. I’ve been a good pastor, I’ve led these people with the very best of my ability.”
“I’m sorry, Robert. The decision wasn’t mine. My job was just to give you notice. The congregation voted you out,” Devon said, shrugging.
“Have they lost faith in me? Why this letter of termination?” he asked, wiping at his face.
“They voted, according to the bylaws, and voted you out. I’m sorry. They said you didn’t meet their spiritual need any longer. They have found a new man to fit the bill.”
“That fast? Was Rey behind all this?”
“I don’t know. I was only instructed to tell you, and to give you the termination papers.
“Do you think it was because of the vision, the dream about the end of times?” Robert pushed. He had to know what was behind this.
“Look, Robert, I just don’t know. It might have been. I really don’t know,” Devon repeated, frustration edging into his voice.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that… that this has been my life, my passion. It has always been what I was meant to do. What will I do now?”
“I don’t know, Robert. I have to go. I’m really sorry to have brought you this news,” Devon said, and got up and left the church.
Robert sat on alone. It was silent and he could hear his own harsh breathing bouncing back at him. He sniffed loudly and stood up. He went into the back of the church, to his office. He found a box and began to pack his belongings. He sat down heavily in his chair and looked around his office. So many memories.
And he was put out, just like that. Like trash. They’d sent Devon, one of the lowest members of the admin group. John Port, the leader of the congregation, didn’t have the backbone. He’d delegated.
He thought back to the previous Sunday. He’d tried to talk again about his dream. “Please ladies and gentlemen, it was a dream, yes, but I believe it to be a message. Something is coming, something bad.”
“Preacher, just preach and leave your dreams at home,” Rey had called, and a murmur of agreement had gone through the congregation. He’d flushed hotly. They’d not wanted to hear his words.
“I shall, but know that I have started preparing. If any of you wish to come to my home, we can sit and work up a plan. My door is always open, as it has been in the past,” He’d told them.
But no one had come. Still, he’d started preparing. Two of the bedrooms were now filled with boxes of food, and bottles of water were stacked in his garage.
This morning he’d bought extra propane tanks for the grill out back. He’d spent a great deal of his own money, and though he was prepared, he knew his parishioners were not.
But now, now he’d lost his church and his members, his congregation. He looked down at the paper. The members had said he was too stringent, too hardline. They wanted someone who didn’t push to be so upstanding and pure. They were human, they said, and he’d made them all feel guilty about their lives. Apparently, they’d not been comfortable with that, and so he’d been voted out.
All because they didn’t want to be reminded that they were sinners. He laughed contemptuously. Rey was more than likely behind that little bit. It was all gone, along with his dream.
He'd preached often about cherishing the family, the value of family, and keeping faithful to God and to family. Once again, heartburn with Rey. Rey had many of the church leaders in his pocket. It was political and Robert knew it. He’d never been good at politics in the church. All he wanted to do was spread the Word.
He wiped at the tears and looked around. He’d only been here four years, and these people meant everything
to him. He tried not to be bitter, or angry, but he couldn’t fool God. He was. Sinners who wanted off easy, to not be reminded to do right, to love and believe in God. He shook his head. They didn’t want to hear about the disaster that was heading their way. They wanted to go on living their lives in ignorance. What kind of world was this? What kind of people were they?
There was going to come a day, judgment day, and they’d all be sorry. A savage smile crossed his lips. Yes, they’d be sorry.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Maryville, MO, 6 September 2018
Pike and Margo sat in the office of the realtor. They had just finished signing the papers and were finally the legal owners of the cabin on the lake. Pike grinned at Margo, who had tears in her eye. He stood and pulled her into his arms, holding her while she shook and cried.
The cabin was theirs! They’d done it. He understood why Margo was crying. He felt like crying along with her. As it was, he blinked back his own tears.
She laughed and pulled away, wiping at her face. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m so happy and relieved.”
“It’s because of how much this means to us, Margo. That our lives depend on it,” he said softly, not wanting anyone to hear them.
“Can we go and move in now? I don’t want to wait another minute,” she said, her eyes glowing green.
“Hell yeah, that’s a great idea,” he said, and hugged her again.
They left the agent’s office, waving good bye and calling out their thanks once more.
They got into his truck and headed to her apartment. When they got there, they stood looking at all the boxes and containers and started laughing.
“I think if we’d stayed her another week, we would have had to sleep in our vehicles,” she grinned.
“Yeah. I think we’ve about filled this place up as much as possible. I’ll start getting everything out of my room and packing it into the truck.”
Within an hour, both of their vehicles were packed. Pike led the way to the cabin, the keys burning a hole in his pocket. He had a grin on his face, and felt as light as a feather. They had done it. They had found and bought a safe haven.
It only took twenty minutes to get to the cabin, and Margo jumped out of her car when they got there. He grinned as she whooped and hollered in the yard.
“Let’s take this lot in and head back for more stuff,” he suggested.
“Sounds like a plan. I don’t want to sleep in the apartment tonight, I want to sleep in our home.”
He felt his heart flip. She’d said our home. He couldn’t help but smile as she unlocked the door and went in. He carried boxes and containers in behind her.
The scent of wood and leather pooled around them, drawing them in like a welcoming, invisible fog. It smells like home. It was as though the house wrapped itself around them in a protective hug. There was no buyer’s remorse here.
For the next while, they emptied out some to take back and reload.
“I still can’t believe this is ours,” she cooed.
“Me neither. We did it, Margo, we did it! Whatever comes or doesn’t come, this is a damn fine cabin.” He grinned at her. She stepped over and put her arms around his waist and gave him a hard hug. He held her for a moment and inhaled the scent of her. He wanted to freeze time for a decade.
“Yeah, we sure did,” she said softly, looking at him.
He came within a hair of kissing her, but pulled back and smiled instead. “Come on. Let’s get this stuff unpacked and get back for more stuff. I’m glad we had everything pretty much packed before today.”
“Well, I figured that once we closed, we’d want to get the hell out of the apartment and into this cabin,” she laughed.
They spent the rest of the day making trips back and forth from her apartment to their cabin. By the late afternoon, they had everything stuffed into the cabin, helter-skelter. Binx wasn’t sure about the cabin, but went about sniffing every corner. When he was outside, he marked every bush and tree.
“You’d think he’d run out of pee at some point,” Pike said as they sat on the steps of the cabin. They watched the dog sniff around, then disappear into the dense bush.
“You’d think, but you’d be wrong,” she sniggered.
“I’m so glad the owners left most of the furniture. It isn’t in bad shape, and if we want to replace it later, we can. But for now, it’s one less thing we have to buy.”
“I like that a lot of it is rustic. It suits the cabin. And yes, it is in good condition. That couch is comfy too.”
“Yeah, I tried it out. But I wanted to lie down and take a nap. That leather is good leather. They don’t make them like that anymore,” Pike said, taking a swig of his soft drink.
They’d stopped for the day and were relaxing, enjoying the quiet on the lake. Pike meant it about the couch being comfortable. It was buttery-soft and very inviting.
“I saw that you put my pink zebra blanket on the couch,” Margo said, breaking into his thoughts.
He grinned at her and winked. “Figured it would look good there and add some color to all the browns and wood tones.”
“It does.”
The four bedrooms of moderate size. The six-inch logs had a synthetic chinking that expanded and contracted with the log’s movement. It also kept the cabin weather-tight and didn’t need repairing any time soon. The cabin was well built and sturdy, and the kitchen was a good size with a large farmhouse table. In the basement was plenty of room for storage, as well as the cast iron pots they had coveted.
Beneath the leather couch was a woven rag rug, its bright colors faded with time. The trim around the doors was pine and faded too. There were a few squeaky boards, but that only added to the charm of the place. The cabin was redolent of wood, leather, and ageless beauty.
“I just love the floors, that wide oak planking, and the fact the cabin was a hunting lodge at the turn of the century. How cool is that? Lots of history,” Pike said.
“I know, and yet they have the solar panels to make it work just right. I mean, they’ve upgraded and improved, but it still looks like you’ve stepped back in history. I love that about it.”
Over the years it had clearly been modernized, but had remained off grid, thus retaining its timeless beauty. The improvements, like the gas stove and hot water heater, as well as the solar panels and small wind turbine, helped to bring the cabin into the twenty-first century.
“I still feel like crying, all because I love this place so much. Does that sound stupid?” Pike asked.
“No, because I’m about on the verge of crying now, and have been all day. I guess we’ve been stressing so much that, now that we’re here, it almost doesn’t seem real.”
“Yeah. Can you hear the loon?”
They both sat quietly for a few moments. In the distance, the lonesome call of the loon echoed off the water. It sent a shiver down Pike’s back. The warmth of the rays of the sun spread from his face through his body, relaxing him. The wind blew around them, and something caught his attention.
“I think we have jasmine around somewhere, I can smell it,” he said.
“I smell it too. I think it’s the bushes around the house, you know, the ones Binx has been peeing all over.” She laughed. Both he and Margo looked at Binx who was now lying on his back in the sun, his legs sticking up much like a dead cockroach’s would.
It had been a long struggle from the day Margo had sent the article to him. Now they were in their home, and though there was much to be done, they could now relax. They’d made it. They’d walked around the cabin, their hands touching everything, when they’d first arrived.
The windows were fairly recent and double-paned and the casements were pine as well.
“The double panes will really keep the warm in, and I’m glad they updated the chinking. With the flexibility of it, we won’t have to worry about re-chinking it for years,” Pike said, his hand caressing the log wall to his side.
“I almost want to hug the cabin,” Margo la
ughed, her eyes crinkling up prettily.
“Yeah, and I really like the rafters, they are nice and tall. What should we do with the open loft space? It isn’t very big… I think it was used as an office by the previous owners.”
“I don’t know? Maybe put our projects and books up there for now? Storage, so it isn’t laying all over the place. I really like the heavy railing along its edge. I think it was honed from large branches of oak,”
“Yeah, this house has a lot of history and is just plain neat.” The railings were satiny smooth from age. They also adorned the heavy stairs that came down into the living room.
“You want to go down and look around in the basement some more?”
“Heck yeah. I don’t think I will ever get tired of exploring this place,” Pike said.
They went down to the basement and looked around. There were plenty of heavy wooden shelves set into the walls on all sides. There was a pressure canner sitting on one of the shelves, along with empty canning jars.
“Yeah, I’m going to have to learn how to use this thing,” Margo said touching the pressure canner.
“I think if you watch some Youtube videos you can learn, Margo. And I’ll help.”
“Thanks. It will be nice to know how to can food. Our lives may well depend on it. I just don’t want to poison us.”
“I think that if we are careful, we should be fine. After all, it’s been done for over a hundred years. We’ll be careful.”
“Oh, hold on. I’ll be right back,” she said and ran upstairs. Her feet stomped loudly on the floorboards above Pike’s head. He grinned. He was so happy deep inside, and so thankful. The world hadn’t ended yet. They were here, and they had a lot of food stores. They would need to get mylar bags and maybe some kind of vacuum rig for food storage.
He heard her coming back and turned around. Her arms were laden down with a heavy box.