I decided to take a break in the story this week to broach two subjects.
First, in conversation with someone who read quite a bit of this story it was relayed to me that the situation I describe after the collapse would never occur. This person said that the way our society is today, we would simply kill each other for food. So my story should be about how people with food have to defend themselves from the heathen marauders. While I can't rule out this possibility, my heart says (as you probably sense in my writings) that we would overcome those attitudes. This person said there would be a group of people who had food who say, "it's ours and we're not sharing with anybody" and a group of people who have no food and say, "we need food , but no one will share it with us." Perhaps this is realism, but by now you know that I'm not a realist, but an idealist. I would like to see people change to the point where those without would say, "We need food, who will share some?" And those with would say, "We have food, who would like some?" Oversimplification, I guess. None-the-less, it's an attitude that needs to change for the sake of survival. My sincere hope is that my writing changes some hearts. Could I have feedback on this? (which brings me to #2)
Second, I receive little feedback. I do not know for sure if it's because no one is reading "Are You Ready" or if there is some glitch that does not allow readers' e-mails to come through. It is getting to the point that I feel I'm wasting my time, if no one is reading Alyssa's story. If you do read the story, please let my know. I need the encouragement. I do this for you.
By the way, I do have the end of chapter 15 written and a good portion of chapter 16.
To be continued................Mort
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - We Made Hay While The Sun Shone (cont)
Sunday morning was beautiful, sunny and breezy, still a tad muggy though, wind from the southeast. Dad and I met up with Harvey in the barn. “Rain’s over!” I announced. “Guess we’ll be mowing hay tomorrow.”
“We might be mowing hay tomorrow,” Harvey responded, “but the rain isn’t quite over. Wind’s still the wrong way. It will pump moist air in from the ocean. Besides, the old saying is, ‘When a rain stops during the night, it’s not finished raining’. It will rain today again.”
“You believe that, Dad?” I asked.
“Harvey’s dad believed it,” he answered.
“So did my Uncle Lester and your great-grandfather,” Harvey added. “It held out for them, many, many times.”
“All the times?” I quizzed.
“Well, probably not,” Dad replied, “but just like every other old saying, every time it did hold out, that built up the credibility of the saying. And when it didn’t hold out… well, that was kinda forgotten.”
Harvey chuckled, and then added, “I reckon your Dad’s right, but now mind you, the corollary isn’t true though.”
“Huh?” I went.
Dad explained, “what’s not true is the opposite: when a rain stops during the day, it is finished raining.”
“Right,” Harvey agreed, “then it can go either way.”
“I’m still confused,” I said.
“So, just watch and learn,” Dad exhorted. “Later today we’ll see who’s right.”
We had a little church service at Poppop’s house just before noon, and then, sure enough, a little thundershower came through about midway through the afternoon. Why are these old guys always right? The wind had shifted to a northeast one and by evening from the north.
“Now we’re cooking,” Harvey announced. “I’ll make the final call tomorrow morning, but every one get a good nights rest; I suspect we’ll go at the hay tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s Labor Day,” Amy lamented, “won’t we be having a picnic?”
“That’s right sweetie,” Uncle Jeremiah answered. “Tomorrow is Labor Day, and that’s what we’re going to do. And if you call the fine meal that Sandy and Jean will prepare and we’ll eat under the trees next to the hayfield a picnic, then, yep, we’re having one of those too.”
The wind blew all night. By morning it was from the northwest. “That’s the ticket,” Harvey gave the word. “Everyone eat a good breakfast, there’s a lot of work to do today.” Larry almost wanted to skip breakfast, so anxious he was to drive tractor again. “Let the air do its work a little, first,” Harvey told him. “It’s drying the grass and the ground. Everything will go better as the fields dry out.”
With all the cattle taken care of, Brutus was hitched to the wagon of tools and before we could all pile on, Larry started up his tractor and up the road with the mower he went. He was once more in his element. I believe everyone felt happy for him. Before we left, Mom brought out a dozen bonnets she and Jean had made from some old pillowcases that we had plenty of. When they found the time to sew them by hand, I had no idea.
“Everyone keep your head covered,” she ordered. “That’s still a summer sun out there.” Some of the men and boys had straw hats. Others had baseball caps like I wore. The women who weren’t raised working outside on a farm weren’t used to wearing hats, but no one needed sunburn either, so they dutifully followed Mom’s order. In spite of the hot temperature, several of our crew wore loose fitting long sleeved shirts, too, to keep our arms from burning.
When we got to Crystal View farm, we stopped at the water trough and filled up a few water jugs. Mom stayed at the house with Clare to watch the younger children as Donna Smith and Julie the teacher headed to the field with the rest of their families. Poppop drove Brutus about halfway down the edge of the field and unhooked the wagon, then tied him in the shade of the meadow near the creek. By then, Larry had mowed three times around the field and had parked the tractor. This gave us plenty of room to work. He also said the outside of a field is usually the hardest to dry, so it received a head start, plus the grass that had been mowed with the machine was conditioned or crimped by it. That would help it dry faster.
We split into four groups, headed by Harvey, Joe, Jeremiah, and Larry. Each group went to a different corner, so we wouldn’t get in each other’s way. Adding Butch’s tools to the stockpile provided one or two scythes and three or four sickles, for a total of five cutting implements per group. There were seven or eight workers in each group, so there were always two or three waiting in the wings to spell someone, or to run for water if we needed it. I was in Jeremiah’s group with Ben and his wife, Denise, one of their sons, Clark, Dad and Robbie. Everyone started with fervor with the men manning the scythes. It looked pretty awkward at first; only a few had ever used a scythe. It has a long handle with about a three foot blade. It works best with a long sweeping motion. Once they got the hang of it, they could really knock a lot of hay down, but we with the sickles learned to stay out of their way. You see a sickle only has a short handle and blade, so you have to bend over and get close to your work. We didn’t need our noses cut off by a scythe, so we kept our distance. In due time, as the mowers progressed down the edge of the mowed crop, the distance between us lengthened, decreasing the danger factor. As most of us were right handed and because scythes were built that way, the motion was always right to left. Because you wanted to pull the fresh cut hay away from the hay that was still standing, we kept migrating to our left or clockwise around the field. Even though we had started at the corners, we were soon strung out all around the outside of the unmown portion of the field.
While we were mowing it gave a lot of time for talking, even singing. In Larry’s group I heard Mel, Amy and Lynette singing some pop songs, but also a couple hymns. Uncle Bruce’s family was in that group and they were just singing right along. Soon it spread over the whole field for part of the morning.
It was Robbie who did the most talking. First, it was just chit-chat about the food or the cows. Did we still have cocoa puffs? But then his inquiries turned toward my cousin, Jennifer. Jenn and Vanetta both sort of stood out in the crowd. They weren’t dressed like farm girls, but then again, neither were half the other young women in the crew that day. Both had long well-kept hair and very light, smooth complexions. I wondered how long they stay that way after three or four days of hay making.
“Who is she?” Robbie asked.
“My Mom’s brother’s daughter,” I answered. “She’s my cousin, Jennifer.”
“Jennifer…..” he oozed, “a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
“What?” I responded.
“Just what I said,” Robbie countered, “she’s hot!”
“We’re all hot today,” I wisecracked back.
“I really must get to know her.”
“Yeah right, and there’s a lot of hot air around here, too,” I retorted. “Do you know how old she is?”
“Was just about to ask.”
“Thirteen. She’ll be fourteen next week.”
“Aaaah, just right,” Robbie spoke like he was in a dream world.
“Get real,” I countered, “she’d be going to ninth grade. We’re only going to seventh.”
“No matter, ain’t no school anyway,” he said. “Yeah, you really have to introduce us.” Now I didn’t think that Robbie was so dense that he couldn’t sense my tone, so evidently, he being enthralled with Jenn was affecting his judgment. He still had the capability of reading the scowl on my face, however, for then he added, “Not that she compares to you.”
“Not that she what?!” I blurted out.
“You know, stacks up to you.”
“What, are we horses on the auction block, now?” I jawed.
Maybe, just maybe, Robbie was coming to his senses. He kinda stuttered a little and even thought a little before he finally said, “What I mean is… you see…. you don’t know….I thought… Well I guess… what I’m trying to say is that I know you. And you’re special. I know what’s inside you, and I like what’s in there. You’re tough and smart. Usually pleasant and very trustworthy and loyal.” (I felt like a boy scout.) “I like that you love animals, how hard you work, respect others and that you’re easy to talk to. I only see the outside of your cousin. Don’t know what’s inside her. Don’t even know if she has a brain. So what if she is a fox? Except she has that stupid bonnet on. You know you do look really good in that baseball cap; always thought you did. I should at least get to know her, though. I should be fair about it. Oh, forget it….. I’m an idiot….. and I talk too much.”
“Now that’s the first smart thing you’ve said,” I answered. “Don’t worry; you’ll get to talk to her.” Time would tell.
Wielding that sickle was both tedious and tiring. I was always glad to hand it off to Robbie or Denise. Whenever we were at the end of the field nearest to Harvey’s water trough, we’d go for water and carry jugs back for the men, who just kept rotating the swinging of those scythes and knocking down hay. That was how the men were spelled – just hand off their hay machine whenever they needed to. It was a chance for a drink, a bathroom break in the cornfield that ran alongside the hayfield, or to just plop down on the fresh mown grass for a rest.
While we were mowing, Butch and Poppop took one of Butch’s team of horses down to Harvey’s to bring up another wagon. On the trip back, they brought Lois, Grandmom, and Jean with our picnic. Would it be hot dogs, potato chips and cold soda? No, but they really did pretty well. Of course, the cold drink was milk – couldn’t escape that. They did surprise us though by using some of our dry packaged and canned food to make a monster macaroni salad that had a few cans of spam cut into it. With our cream, some mustard and some of the sugar Uncle Bruce had bought they created a pretty decent salad dressing. It was garnished with bits of onion and several handfuls of broccoli scrounged from Poppop’s garden. The “picnic” was topped off by the last watermelon we had bartered from Titus.
The afternoon went pretty quickly. I think by 3:00 PM we had the whole field mowed. Harvey said the field was about eight acres and would probably have yielded five to six hundred bales if we would bale it with a mechanical baler. That didn’t sound like a lot until Butch pointed out that an amount like that would feed his six horses for four months. That meant we’d only have to harvest the same amount two more times to provide a year’s supply. Of course, that wasn’t enough to feed all the cattle, but it gave some perspective to our labor; made it all appear worthwhile.
Before we loaded up for home, Larry hopped on his tractor and mowed three times around the outside of another hayfield on the other side of the cornfield.
“More to mow tomorrow?” I asked.
“Maybe,” Harvey answered, “just getting a head start, in case the weather still looks promising. That field is even bigger, so I wouldn’t want to mow all of it. I need to get a feel on how much time it takes us to put away the hay we’ve already mown.”
To be continued……Is that all there is to haymaking? Mort
“We might be mowing hay tomorrow,” Harvey responded, “but the rain isn’t quite over. Wind’s still the wrong way. It will pump moist air in from the ocean. Besides, the old saying is, ‘When a rain stops during the night, it’s not finished raining’. It will rain today again.”
“You believe that, Dad?” I asked.
“Harvey’s dad believed it,” he answered.
“So did my Uncle Lester and your great-grandfather,” Harvey added. “It held out for them, many, many times.”
“All the times?” I quizzed.
“Well, probably not,” Dad replied, “but just like every other old saying, every time it did hold out, that built up the credibility of the saying. And when it didn’t hold out… well, that was kinda forgotten.”
Harvey chuckled, and then added, “I reckon your Dad’s right, but now mind you, the corollary isn’t true though.”
“Huh?” I went.
Dad explained, “what’s not true is the opposite: when a rain stops during the day, it is finished raining.”
“Right,” Harvey agreed, “then it can go either way.”
“I’m still confused,” I said.
“So, just watch and learn,” Dad exhorted. “Later today we’ll see who’s right.”
We had a little church service at Poppop’s house just before noon, and then, sure enough, a little thundershower came through about midway through the afternoon. Why are these old guys always right? The wind had shifted to a northeast one and by evening from the north.
“Now we’re cooking,” Harvey announced. “I’ll make the final call tomorrow morning, but every one get a good nights rest; I suspect we’ll go at the hay tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s Labor Day,” Amy lamented, “won’t we be having a picnic?”
“That’s right sweetie,” Uncle Jeremiah answered. “Tomorrow is Labor Day, and that’s what we’re going to do. And if you call the fine meal that Sandy and Jean will prepare and we’ll eat under the trees next to the hayfield a picnic, then, yep, we’re having one of those too.”
The wind blew all night. By morning it was from the northwest. “That’s the ticket,” Harvey gave the word. “Everyone eat a good breakfast, there’s a lot of work to do today.” Larry almost wanted to skip breakfast, so anxious he was to drive tractor again. “Let the air do its work a little, first,” Harvey told him. “It’s drying the grass and the ground. Everything will go better as the fields dry out.”
With all the cattle taken care of, Brutus was hitched to the wagon of tools and before we could all pile on, Larry started up his tractor and up the road with the mower he went. He was once more in his element. I believe everyone felt happy for him. Before we left, Mom brought out a dozen bonnets she and Jean had made from some old pillowcases that we had plenty of. When they found the time to sew them by hand, I had no idea.
“Everyone keep your head covered,” she ordered. “That’s still a summer sun out there.” Some of the men and boys had straw hats. Others had baseball caps like I wore. The women who weren’t raised working outside on a farm weren’t used to wearing hats, but no one needed sunburn either, so they dutifully followed Mom’s order. In spite of the hot temperature, several of our crew wore loose fitting long sleeved shirts, too, to keep our arms from burning.
When we got to Crystal View farm, we stopped at the water trough and filled up a few water jugs. Mom stayed at the house with Clare to watch the younger children as Donna Smith and Julie the teacher headed to the field with the rest of their families. Poppop drove Brutus about halfway down the edge of the field and unhooked the wagon, then tied him in the shade of the meadow near the creek. By then, Larry had mowed three times around the field and had parked the tractor. This gave us plenty of room to work. He also said the outside of a field is usually the hardest to dry, so it received a head start, plus the grass that had been mowed with the machine was conditioned or crimped by it. That would help it dry faster.
We split into four groups, headed by Harvey, Joe, Jeremiah, and Larry. Each group went to a different corner, so we wouldn’t get in each other’s way. Adding Butch’s tools to the stockpile provided one or two scythes and three or four sickles, for a total of five cutting implements per group. There were seven or eight workers in each group, so there were always two or three waiting in the wings to spell someone, or to run for water if we needed it. I was in Jeremiah’s group with Ben and his wife, Denise, one of their sons, Clark, Dad and Robbie. Everyone started with fervor with the men manning the scythes. It looked pretty awkward at first; only a few had ever used a scythe. It has a long handle with about a three foot blade. It works best with a long sweeping motion. Once they got the hang of it, they could really knock a lot of hay down, but we with the sickles learned to stay out of their way. You see a sickle only has a short handle and blade, so you have to bend over and get close to your work. We didn’t need our noses cut off by a scythe, so we kept our distance. In due time, as the mowers progressed down the edge of the mowed crop, the distance between us lengthened, decreasing the danger factor. As most of us were right handed and because scythes were built that way, the motion was always right to left. Because you wanted to pull the fresh cut hay away from the hay that was still standing, we kept migrating to our left or clockwise around the field. Even though we had started at the corners, we were soon strung out all around the outside of the unmown portion of the field.
While we were mowing it gave a lot of time for talking, even singing. In Larry’s group I heard Mel, Amy and Lynette singing some pop songs, but also a couple hymns. Uncle Bruce’s family was in that group and they were just singing right along. Soon it spread over the whole field for part of the morning.
It was Robbie who did the most talking. First, it was just chit-chat about the food or the cows. Did we still have cocoa puffs? But then his inquiries turned toward my cousin, Jennifer. Jenn and Vanetta both sort of stood out in the crowd. They weren’t dressed like farm girls, but then again, neither were half the other young women in the crew that day. Both had long well-kept hair and very light, smooth complexions. I wondered how long they stay that way after three or four days of hay making.
“Who is she?” Robbie asked.
“My Mom’s brother’s daughter,” I answered. “She’s my cousin, Jennifer.”
“Jennifer…..” he oozed, “a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
“What?” I responded.
“Just what I said,” Robbie countered, “she’s hot!”
“We’re all hot today,” I wisecracked back.
“I really must get to know her.”
“Yeah right, and there’s a lot of hot air around here, too,” I retorted. “Do you know how old she is?”
“Was just about to ask.”
“Thirteen. She’ll be fourteen next week.”
“Aaaah, just right,” Robbie spoke like he was in a dream world.
“Get real,” I countered, “she’d be going to ninth grade. We’re only going to seventh.”
“No matter, ain’t no school anyway,” he said. “Yeah, you really have to introduce us.” Now I didn’t think that Robbie was so dense that he couldn’t sense my tone, so evidently, he being enthralled with Jenn was affecting his judgment. He still had the capability of reading the scowl on my face, however, for then he added, “Not that she compares to you.”
“Not that she what?!” I blurted out.
“You know, stacks up to you.”
“What, are we horses on the auction block, now?” I jawed.
Maybe, just maybe, Robbie was coming to his senses. He kinda stuttered a little and even thought a little before he finally said, “What I mean is… you see…. you don’t know….I thought… Well I guess… what I’m trying to say is that I know you. And you’re special. I know what’s inside you, and I like what’s in there. You’re tough and smart. Usually pleasant and very trustworthy and loyal.” (I felt like a boy scout.) “I like that you love animals, how hard you work, respect others and that you’re easy to talk to. I only see the outside of your cousin. Don’t know what’s inside her. Don’t even know if she has a brain. So what if she is a fox? Except she has that stupid bonnet on. You know you do look really good in that baseball cap; always thought you did. I should at least get to know her, though. I should be fair about it. Oh, forget it….. I’m an idiot….. and I talk too much.”
“Now that’s the first smart thing you’ve said,” I answered. “Don’t worry; you’ll get to talk to her.” Time would tell.
Wielding that sickle was both tedious and tiring. I was always glad to hand it off to Robbie or Denise. Whenever we were at the end of the field nearest to Harvey’s water trough, we’d go for water and carry jugs back for the men, who just kept rotating the swinging of those scythes and knocking down hay. That was how the men were spelled – just hand off their hay machine whenever they needed to. It was a chance for a drink, a bathroom break in the cornfield that ran alongside the hayfield, or to just plop down on the fresh mown grass for a rest.
While we were mowing, Butch and Poppop took one of Butch’s team of horses down to Harvey’s to bring up another wagon. On the trip back, they brought Lois, Grandmom, and Jean with our picnic. Would it be hot dogs, potato chips and cold soda? No, but they really did pretty well. Of course, the cold drink was milk – couldn’t escape that. They did surprise us though by using some of our dry packaged and canned food to make a monster macaroni salad that had a few cans of spam cut into it. With our cream, some mustard and some of the sugar Uncle Bruce had bought they created a pretty decent salad dressing. It was garnished with bits of onion and several handfuls of broccoli scrounged from Poppop’s garden. The “picnic” was topped off by the last watermelon we had bartered from Titus.
The afternoon went pretty quickly. I think by 3:00 PM we had the whole field mowed. Harvey said the field was about eight acres and would probably have yielded five to six hundred bales if we would bale it with a mechanical baler. That didn’t sound like a lot until Butch pointed out that an amount like that would feed his six horses for four months. That meant we’d only have to harvest the same amount two more times to provide a year’s supply. Of course, that wasn’t enough to feed all the cattle, but it gave some perspective to our labor; made it all appear worthwhile.
Before we loaded up for home, Larry hopped on his tractor and mowed three times around the outside of another hayfield on the other side of the cornfield.
“More to mow tomorrow?” I asked.
“Maybe,” Harvey answered, “just getting a head start, in case the weather still looks promising. That field is even bigger, so I wouldn’t want to mow all of it. I need to get a feel on how much time it takes us to put away the hay we’ve already mown.”
To be continued……Is that all there is to haymaking? Mort
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Chapter Fifteen - We Made Hay While The Sun Shone
I had assumed the goods Uncle Bruce’s family brought were personal effects, mostly clothing, toiletries, maybe some food or tools. But as we started unloading and inventorying them to their proper location in the kitchen, we found it to be much more than that. We started yanking clothing that was stuffed into the car and uncovered two cartons of toilet paper, each with 72 rolls in. Okay, we had figured out how to do without it, but it would sure be nice to have some in the meantime. Some of the other items came in cartons also. They had cartons of toothpaste, shampoo, Clorox, laundry soap, matches, and duct tape. We found fishing tackle and line, 20 packs of sewing needles, and maybe 50 spools of thread. They had a couple wood saws and axes. It was great, for other than the soap, these were all things that we would have difficulty manufacturing.
In addition, there were a dozen new bicycle inner tubes, four new bicycle tires, and a box of tire repair kits, plus a 12-volt air compressor. We were not using much equipment with rubber tires like we would have with a steady supply of fuel, but we did use bicycles and wagons and boy, would those repair kits come in handy. There were no tire repair shops to take flats to. We even came across two of those flashlights/radio combos. They were the kind you wound up to charge the batteries, so you could keep them charged without electricity. They had some replacement batteries for them and a box of regular “D” cell flashlight batteries. Even if we couldn’t depend on them forever, it would still be nice to have them as the days got shorter.
Of course, they managed to bring us some food, too – canned fruit and canned beans. But not a few cans – a few boxes, maybe 70 to 80 cans. There were six cans of black pepper and even 50 pounds of flour. That would bring joy to the bakers in the bunch, for the boys still hadn’t perfected a working flour mill. And to go with the flour, they had brought twelve, ten pound bags of sugar. Sweet!
Everything had been jammed into the two cars with their clothing, shoes and boots filling in the crevices. I think we found about 30 dozen socks - men’s, women’s, kid’s, brand new, still in the plastic packages. They were used to top off boxes that weren’t quite full, inside of boots and shoes, and stuffed into what would have been any empty space in the load. Near the end, we found three boxes of additional treasures – medical supplies. They contained Epson salts, Kaopectate, Preparation H, Motrin, Midol, Maalox, Benadryl, calamine lotion, antibiotic cream, cotton swabs, band-aids, surgical tape, and gauze pads. Not just one or two bottles or packs of each, now mind you, but one or two boxes of each; six, ten, fifteen or more of some of the items. There was a carton of Vicks Vapor-rub, witch hazel, cold tablets, zinc lozenges, vitamin C, lycopene, and other assorted multi-vitamins. I think we tripled the amount of medicine in Lois’s dispensary.
Finally, under the seats, we uncovered about 75 boxes of shotgun shells and a small cache of silver coins, including a few gold coins and a stack of Euros. Questions abounded. Where did you get all this stuff? Why did you buy that? How did you get the gold? You don’t even own a shotgun; why the ammunition? After supper, we started getting answers.
“The cars full of stuff,” Bruce responded, “originally were accumulated because I heeded some warnings and advice before the collapse. After the collapse, doing some careful and calculated bartering produced the modified bounty that we unloaded this afternoon. If you want, I can relate what happen between then and now?”
“Please do,” said Grandpop.
“Being in the banking business, I could easily see things happening. We’d look at indexes and charts and then predict what was coming down the road. Usually the quirks in those charts or graphs were dismissed as anomalies and considered nothing to worry about. The experts in both the finance industry and the government said, ‘Everything will be fine’. But there were things occurring that charts, graphs, and indexes couldn’t show us. We had to read people – people whose wages didn’t even come close to meeting their financial needs – people who had trouble paying their rent or mortgages. Some were trying to refinance, some were going through the process of foreclosure, or had started to file for bankruptcy. As fuel and food prices soared, people needed to use credit just to pay for those basic needs. And we just kept providing it; it was our biggest mistake. Or perhaps listening to the Federal Reserve was our biggest. We just did what they wanted – ‘Provide more credit,’ they told us – ‘That will pull us through,’ they said – ‘It will stop inflation,’ were their lies. Hell, it made it worse.” Bruce concluded.
“So what really is inflation, anyway?” Jake asked.
“Depends who you listen to,” Bruce answered, “what do all of you think?”
“When prices go up,” Harvey replied.
“And the dollar can’t buy what it used to,” Sandy added.
“When the government puts more money into the system,” Joe said.
“But are the products worth more or the dollars worth less?” Dennis asked.
“Products have the same value, so the dollar must be worth less,” Aaron said.
“Well, I guess it’s all those things,” Bruce responded. “Maybe the best functional definition is when too much of a currency is infused into an economy compared to the value of the goods in that economy. And our government doesn’t even have to ‘print the money’, like some people would say. They just had to expand credit. Heck they had to, so there would be money there for them to loan, too, beings they were always spending money they didn’t have.”
“What actually happened, like I mentioned before, was that families needed more and more money to meet their obligations. At the bank’s end, this is what we saw: First saving’s accounts were closed, and then insurance policies and CD’s cashed in. Next stocks, bonds, and mutual fund shares were sold. U.S. saving’s bonds were redeemed, which by the way, really put extra pressure on the feds. As people’s assets were reduced, they started to use credit, which many had already been doing.”
“What did everyone need the money for?” Lynette wondered
“Why, what did all of you need money for the last six months?” Bruce countered.
“Seed and fertilizer,” Larry said.
“Food and fuel,” said Jean.
“Energy,” Dad answered, “our electric company received an 8% rate increase last January.”
“But none of us got an 8% wage increase!” interjected Jeremiah.
“Nor for the 50% that gasoline had gone up,” Barry added.
“Nor the extra for medical bills and health insurance,” Lois chimed in.
“Nor for the tax increases,” Poppop said.
“Right,” retorted Bruce, “but what really did us in, discounting the war in the Middle East and China’s play, was when the banks were forced to discontinue credit to everyone, including our own federal government. Then when the feds asked foreign banks to extend credit, they just told us to kiss off. Pow – no money supply – that’s when everything stopped and got us to this point. Now here’s the kicker – not everyone needed the money for the present – many were cashing in for the future.”
“The future that is now,” Dad caught on, “you were one of them.”
“Yep,” Bruce agreed, “and some of you did, too. But just the few of us are not responsible for this mess. Millions of others did the same thing. In my case, I cashed in my savings, secured some Euros, and bought food, ammunition, and most of those other goods you saw earlier. Some of the goods you saw I traded for. That’s were I got the gold and silver coins, the air compressor and some of the batteries. We had a lot more food that we traded to our neighbors and some that we left behind for them. I even had more ammunition; some of it I traded for goods. I also used food to barter for gasoline to make sure we had enough to make the trip to retrieve Leticia.”
“Yes, Leticia,” Mom quizzed, “you said you would tell us about her experience.”
Kristen started it. “Most of you probably don’t know, but my mother was city born and city raised. After my father died, we tried unsuccessfully to get her to move up closer to us. As you noticed earlier today, she has a mind of her own and would not leave. She was doing well now mind you – had a nice apartment and a very dependable roommate. The last time we visited her in the beginning of August we pleaded with her to come back with us; all to no avail. We called her every day, and even the last time the phones worked, she still said everything was fine and insisted she stay. When the electricity went out, things were chaotic at home: people coming and going; uncertainties; neighbors in need. Finally, Friday a week ago, we knew someone had to go for her.”
“Deciding who should go was the first issue,” Bruce continued. “I thought it was too dangerous for Kristen to go.”
“Yet we didn’t know if Leticia would listen to Bruce alone,” Kristen added.
“Also, I didn’t like the idea of leaving Kristen behind, unless Dean would also stay to watch out for her, Jenn, and Vanetta,” Bruce said.
“Plus, I’d have been worried sick if they would have left me behind,” Kristen said. “But in the end, we decided to let the men go. We had solid neighbors who would stay with us, support me, and keep the neighborhood safe. As they drove away, I cried, thinking I might never see them again. I’ll let Bruce tell you about the trip.”
“Well the best thing about it was the result. That you know – we rescued Leticia. Driving was terrible. We wanted to get an early start and couldn’t sleep anyway, so we left in the dark of the morning. The moon was waxing gibbous; gave us light almost till the time the sun started coming through the clouds. We needed it. There were no street lights, no billboards shining, no stores lit up, and no traffic signals. I mean our headlights worked; we could see. And we needed to. Every road we traveled had obstacles. There were abandoned cars and trucks, including police cars and ambulances. Run out of gas I guess - a lot were in the middle of the road. There were accidents that had never been cleared away, some with wires down, that we had to drive onto the medial strip or shoulder to get around. Least we didn’t have to be concerned about live wires. Traffic wasn’t a problem though. We might have driven half-way there, about 25 miles, before we saw another moving vehicle. By the time we got to the city limits, it was full light and we started seeing more people on the sidewalks. Some weren’t moving. That kept us sober. Part of me wanted to stop and check on them, but it was way too risky. From the living we sure got some strange looks; looks that made us not want to stop and fraternize with them either. But stop we had to when we reached Leticia’s apartment.”
Dean took over. “That created a dilemma,” he said. “Dad didn’t want to leave me alone with the car. I didn’t want him to go into the apartment alone. Didn’t know what each other might encounter. It was about nine o’clock; we just sat there and started praying, asking God what we should do?”
“And I was praying, too,” Kristen inserted. “Almost the whole time they were gone. But about nine, I got this feeling that they really needed something. I gathered Jenn, Vanetta and a few of the neighbors, held hands and prayed. After a few minutes, I had a peaceful feeling come over me, so we went back to our business.”
“Bout that time,” Bruce continued, “we looked up and saw a gang of youth approaching our van. Now what should we do? Drive away? Sit tight? As they neared, the apprehension increased. ‘Does that one have a gun?’ I asked Dean. He didn’t think so, but then he said, ‘I think one’s a priest.’ And sure enough, one was. Well, at least one was dressed like a priest. What if it was a ruse? One quick prayer later, I decided I’d have to trust Jesus with the situation. The leader positioned himself to the front of the group, came to the driver’s window, signaled for me to put down the window and asked if there was anyway they could help us.”
“I told them they could indeed, that my mother-in-law lived in this apartment building and would they give us a hand. Of course they would was the answer. ‘These are good boys,’ the priest answered. ‘Jose and Elmadeo will watch the car, while I and the others accompany you.’ As the elevator was useless, we took the three flights of stairs to Leticia’s apartment. The door was locked. Fortunately, Kristen had given me an extra key that her mother had given her. We arrived none too soon. Leticia sat in her chair, half asleep, half awake, with an empty water bottle in her lap. Her clothing was soaked with perspiration. We quickly gave her some water that Dean had carried in. And then we opened the windows and let some fresh air in. Her roommate was no where to be found.”
“There was an open pack of cookies on the kitchen counter. She was able to eat a couple and then shortly regained her strength. She was in no position to argue about whether to stay or not. After getting her into some dry clothing, the boys carried her and her walker down the steps to the van. We had two boxes of food inside the van that Dean offered to the youth for their assistance. We also had several empty boxes along that the boys brought back up the steps so I could pack some of Leticia’s things. I was most concerned about her medicines, so I cleaned everything out of the medicine cabinet and off her dresser top. Found some on the kitchen counter, too. Not knowing what clothing she might need the most, we just carried her dresser drawers out intact, piling clothing and shoes from the closet on top. The van was getting pretty full and there were still things in the apartment we could have used, but so could others. I gave the key to the priest and told him to use the contents for anyone that had the need, especially if the roommate returned.”
“We thanked them and wished them luck as we headed for home. The priest told us that we’ve done them a favor, too. He realized there might be other people in the same situation as Leticia was. Just in case there were, he and his boys would search the rest of the building and others in the neighborhood.”
“On the way back, Leticia told us her roommate had gone out Wednesday in search of water. She had never returned. I feel the worst may have happened. We got out of the city as quickly as we could and made it home by three in the afternoon with no problems - truly a blessing from God,” Bruce concluded.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the butcher house. Nor was it dry outside either. All through Bruce’s tale we heard rumbling and saw flashes of lightning outside. Just before Bruce finished, a heavy downpour had started. Grandpop said, “God certainly is wonderful. We’re blessed by Leticia’s rescue and your return to us. Your mother and I were worried about you. We’re blessed by having a place where we can feel safe, have water and food. We’ve Harvey as well as God to thank for that.”
“Thank God,” Harvey said.
Grandpop agreed, “Yes, thank God, and also for the rain and the crops; and that my son had the foresight to accumulate and bring us all these wonderful goods.”
“I just made hay while the sun shone,” Bruce replied.
“Yes,” replied Harvey, “I guess that’s what it was. And that’s also what we have to do … as soon as this rainy spell ends.”
That was our cue to get to bed. It only poured a few minutes and then slowed to a gentle rain; slow enough to head to the house without getting drenched. We were getting a houseful. Jenn and Vanetta had squeezed into my room. Leticia, Kristen and Bruce were set up in the living room. Dean stayed with my brothers somewhere in Harvey’s house. I didn’t sleep real well that night, thinking about the things that were said, wondering if something like that could happen here, and planning hay making in my mind. I’m sure Harvey was too. I should have been able to sleep, though. The rain had cooled things off quite a bit and the steady dripping and easy breeze sounded so peaceful. I just lay there and took it in. I guess around midnight it stopped raining altogether and I fell asleep.
To be continued…. Finally time for mowing? Mort
In addition, there were a dozen new bicycle inner tubes, four new bicycle tires, and a box of tire repair kits, plus a 12-volt air compressor. We were not using much equipment with rubber tires like we would have with a steady supply of fuel, but we did use bicycles and wagons and boy, would those repair kits come in handy. There were no tire repair shops to take flats to. We even came across two of those flashlights/radio combos. They were the kind you wound up to charge the batteries, so you could keep them charged without electricity. They had some replacement batteries for them and a box of regular “D” cell flashlight batteries. Even if we couldn’t depend on them forever, it would still be nice to have them as the days got shorter.
Of course, they managed to bring us some food, too – canned fruit and canned beans. But not a few cans – a few boxes, maybe 70 to 80 cans. There were six cans of black pepper and even 50 pounds of flour. That would bring joy to the bakers in the bunch, for the boys still hadn’t perfected a working flour mill. And to go with the flour, they had brought twelve, ten pound bags of sugar. Sweet!
Everything had been jammed into the two cars with their clothing, shoes and boots filling in the crevices. I think we found about 30 dozen socks - men’s, women’s, kid’s, brand new, still in the plastic packages. They were used to top off boxes that weren’t quite full, inside of boots and shoes, and stuffed into what would have been any empty space in the load. Near the end, we found three boxes of additional treasures – medical supplies. They contained Epson salts, Kaopectate, Preparation H, Motrin, Midol, Maalox, Benadryl, calamine lotion, antibiotic cream, cotton swabs, band-aids, surgical tape, and gauze pads. Not just one or two bottles or packs of each, now mind you, but one or two boxes of each; six, ten, fifteen or more of some of the items. There was a carton of Vicks Vapor-rub, witch hazel, cold tablets, zinc lozenges, vitamin C, lycopene, and other assorted multi-vitamins. I think we tripled the amount of medicine in Lois’s dispensary.
Finally, under the seats, we uncovered about 75 boxes of shotgun shells and a small cache of silver coins, including a few gold coins and a stack of Euros. Questions abounded. Where did you get all this stuff? Why did you buy that? How did you get the gold? You don’t even own a shotgun; why the ammunition? After supper, we started getting answers.
“The cars full of stuff,” Bruce responded, “originally were accumulated because I heeded some warnings and advice before the collapse. After the collapse, doing some careful and calculated bartering produced the modified bounty that we unloaded this afternoon. If you want, I can relate what happen between then and now?”
“Please do,” said Grandpop.
“Being in the banking business, I could easily see things happening. We’d look at indexes and charts and then predict what was coming down the road. Usually the quirks in those charts or graphs were dismissed as anomalies and considered nothing to worry about. The experts in both the finance industry and the government said, ‘Everything will be fine’. But there were things occurring that charts, graphs, and indexes couldn’t show us. We had to read people – people whose wages didn’t even come close to meeting their financial needs – people who had trouble paying their rent or mortgages. Some were trying to refinance, some were going through the process of foreclosure, or had started to file for bankruptcy. As fuel and food prices soared, people needed to use credit just to pay for those basic needs. And we just kept providing it; it was our biggest mistake. Or perhaps listening to the Federal Reserve was our biggest. We just did what they wanted – ‘Provide more credit,’ they told us – ‘That will pull us through,’ they said – ‘It will stop inflation,’ were their lies. Hell, it made it worse.” Bruce concluded.
“So what really is inflation, anyway?” Jake asked.
“Depends who you listen to,” Bruce answered, “what do all of you think?”
“When prices go up,” Harvey replied.
“And the dollar can’t buy what it used to,” Sandy added.
“When the government puts more money into the system,” Joe said.
“But are the products worth more or the dollars worth less?” Dennis asked.
“Products have the same value, so the dollar must be worth less,” Aaron said.
“Well, I guess it’s all those things,” Bruce responded. “Maybe the best functional definition is when too much of a currency is infused into an economy compared to the value of the goods in that economy. And our government doesn’t even have to ‘print the money’, like some people would say. They just had to expand credit. Heck they had to, so there would be money there for them to loan, too, beings they were always spending money they didn’t have.”
“What actually happened, like I mentioned before, was that families needed more and more money to meet their obligations. At the bank’s end, this is what we saw: First saving’s accounts were closed, and then insurance policies and CD’s cashed in. Next stocks, bonds, and mutual fund shares were sold. U.S. saving’s bonds were redeemed, which by the way, really put extra pressure on the feds. As people’s assets were reduced, they started to use credit, which many had already been doing.”
“What did everyone need the money for?” Lynette wondered
“Why, what did all of you need money for the last six months?” Bruce countered.
“Seed and fertilizer,” Larry said.
“Food and fuel,” said Jean.
“Energy,” Dad answered, “our electric company received an 8% rate increase last January.”
“But none of us got an 8% wage increase!” interjected Jeremiah.
“Nor for the 50% that gasoline had gone up,” Barry added.
“Nor the extra for medical bills and health insurance,” Lois chimed in.
“Nor for the tax increases,” Poppop said.
“Right,” retorted Bruce, “but what really did us in, discounting the war in the Middle East and China’s play, was when the banks were forced to discontinue credit to everyone, including our own federal government. Then when the feds asked foreign banks to extend credit, they just told us to kiss off. Pow – no money supply – that’s when everything stopped and got us to this point. Now here’s the kicker – not everyone needed the money for the present – many were cashing in for the future.”
“The future that is now,” Dad caught on, “you were one of them.”
“Yep,” Bruce agreed, “and some of you did, too. But just the few of us are not responsible for this mess. Millions of others did the same thing. In my case, I cashed in my savings, secured some Euros, and bought food, ammunition, and most of those other goods you saw earlier. Some of the goods you saw I traded for. That’s were I got the gold and silver coins, the air compressor and some of the batteries. We had a lot more food that we traded to our neighbors and some that we left behind for them. I even had more ammunition; some of it I traded for goods. I also used food to barter for gasoline to make sure we had enough to make the trip to retrieve Leticia.”
“Yes, Leticia,” Mom quizzed, “you said you would tell us about her experience.”
Kristen started it. “Most of you probably don’t know, but my mother was city born and city raised. After my father died, we tried unsuccessfully to get her to move up closer to us. As you noticed earlier today, she has a mind of her own and would not leave. She was doing well now mind you – had a nice apartment and a very dependable roommate. The last time we visited her in the beginning of August we pleaded with her to come back with us; all to no avail. We called her every day, and even the last time the phones worked, she still said everything was fine and insisted she stay. When the electricity went out, things were chaotic at home: people coming and going; uncertainties; neighbors in need. Finally, Friday a week ago, we knew someone had to go for her.”
“Deciding who should go was the first issue,” Bruce continued. “I thought it was too dangerous for Kristen to go.”
“Yet we didn’t know if Leticia would listen to Bruce alone,” Kristen added.
“Also, I didn’t like the idea of leaving Kristen behind, unless Dean would also stay to watch out for her, Jenn, and Vanetta,” Bruce said.
“Plus, I’d have been worried sick if they would have left me behind,” Kristen said. “But in the end, we decided to let the men go. We had solid neighbors who would stay with us, support me, and keep the neighborhood safe. As they drove away, I cried, thinking I might never see them again. I’ll let Bruce tell you about the trip.”
“Well the best thing about it was the result. That you know – we rescued Leticia. Driving was terrible. We wanted to get an early start and couldn’t sleep anyway, so we left in the dark of the morning. The moon was waxing gibbous; gave us light almost till the time the sun started coming through the clouds. We needed it. There were no street lights, no billboards shining, no stores lit up, and no traffic signals. I mean our headlights worked; we could see. And we needed to. Every road we traveled had obstacles. There were abandoned cars and trucks, including police cars and ambulances. Run out of gas I guess - a lot were in the middle of the road. There were accidents that had never been cleared away, some with wires down, that we had to drive onto the medial strip or shoulder to get around. Least we didn’t have to be concerned about live wires. Traffic wasn’t a problem though. We might have driven half-way there, about 25 miles, before we saw another moving vehicle. By the time we got to the city limits, it was full light and we started seeing more people on the sidewalks. Some weren’t moving. That kept us sober. Part of me wanted to stop and check on them, but it was way too risky. From the living we sure got some strange looks; looks that made us not want to stop and fraternize with them either. But stop we had to when we reached Leticia’s apartment.”
Dean took over. “That created a dilemma,” he said. “Dad didn’t want to leave me alone with the car. I didn’t want him to go into the apartment alone. Didn’t know what each other might encounter. It was about nine o’clock; we just sat there and started praying, asking God what we should do?”
“And I was praying, too,” Kristen inserted. “Almost the whole time they were gone. But about nine, I got this feeling that they really needed something. I gathered Jenn, Vanetta and a few of the neighbors, held hands and prayed. After a few minutes, I had a peaceful feeling come over me, so we went back to our business.”
“Bout that time,” Bruce continued, “we looked up and saw a gang of youth approaching our van. Now what should we do? Drive away? Sit tight? As they neared, the apprehension increased. ‘Does that one have a gun?’ I asked Dean. He didn’t think so, but then he said, ‘I think one’s a priest.’ And sure enough, one was. Well, at least one was dressed like a priest. What if it was a ruse? One quick prayer later, I decided I’d have to trust Jesus with the situation. The leader positioned himself to the front of the group, came to the driver’s window, signaled for me to put down the window and asked if there was anyway they could help us.”
“I told them they could indeed, that my mother-in-law lived in this apartment building and would they give us a hand. Of course they would was the answer. ‘These are good boys,’ the priest answered. ‘Jose and Elmadeo will watch the car, while I and the others accompany you.’ As the elevator was useless, we took the three flights of stairs to Leticia’s apartment. The door was locked. Fortunately, Kristen had given me an extra key that her mother had given her. We arrived none too soon. Leticia sat in her chair, half asleep, half awake, with an empty water bottle in her lap. Her clothing was soaked with perspiration. We quickly gave her some water that Dean had carried in. And then we opened the windows and let some fresh air in. Her roommate was no where to be found.”
“There was an open pack of cookies on the kitchen counter. She was able to eat a couple and then shortly regained her strength. She was in no position to argue about whether to stay or not. After getting her into some dry clothing, the boys carried her and her walker down the steps to the van. We had two boxes of food inside the van that Dean offered to the youth for their assistance. We also had several empty boxes along that the boys brought back up the steps so I could pack some of Leticia’s things. I was most concerned about her medicines, so I cleaned everything out of the medicine cabinet and off her dresser top. Found some on the kitchen counter, too. Not knowing what clothing she might need the most, we just carried her dresser drawers out intact, piling clothing and shoes from the closet on top. The van was getting pretty full and there were still things in the apartment we could have used, but so could others. I gave the key to the priest and told him to use the contents for anyone that had the need, especially if the roommate returned.”
“We thanked them and wished them luck as we headed for home. The priest told us that we’ve done them a favor, too. He realized there might be other people in the same situation as Leticia was. Just in case there were, he and his boys would search the rest of the building and others in the neighborhood.”
“On the way back, Leticia told us her roommate had gone out Wednesday in search of water. She had never returned. I feel the worst may have happened. We got out of the city as quickly as we could and made it home by three in the afternoon with no problems - truly a blessing from God,” Bruce concluded.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the butcher house. Nor was it dry outside either. All through Bruce’s tale we heard rumbling and saw flashes of lightning outside. Just before Bruce finished, a heavy downpour had started. Grandpop said, “God certainly is wonderful. We’re blessed by Leticia’s rescue and your return to us. Your mother and I were worried about you. We’re blessed by having a place where we can feel safe, have water and food. We’ve Harvey as well as God to thank for that.”
“Thank God,” Harvey said.
Grandpop agreed, “Yes, thank God, and also for the rain and the crops; and that my son had the foresight to accumulate and bring us all these wonderful goods.”
“I just made hay while the sun shone,” Bruce replied.
“Yes,” replied Harvey, “I guess that’s what it was. And that’s also what we have to do … as soon as this rainy spell ends.”
That was our cue to get to bed. It only poured a few minutes and then slowed to a gentle rain; slow enough to head to the house without getting drenched. We were getting a houseful. Jenn and Vanetta had squeezed into my room. Leticia, Kristen and Bruce were set up in the living room. Dean stayed with my brothers somewhere in Harvey’s house. I didn’t sleep real well that night, thinking about the things that were said, wondering if something like that could happen here, and planning hay making in my mind. I’m sure Harvey was too. I should have been able to sleep, though. The rain had cooled things off quite a bit and the steady dripping and easy breeze sounded so peaceful. I just lay there and took it in. I guess around midnight it stopped raining altogether and I fell asleep.
To be continued…. Finally time for mowing? Mort
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - REUNION (cont)
As things appeared ready as far as equipment was concerned, we headed back to the butcher house to see how the rest were doing finishing up that project. We looked down the road and noticed a mini-van approaching with its rear bumper darn near dragging on the road. It looked like the van my Mom’s brother, my Uncle Bruce had. Sure enough, as it pulled into the driveway we spotted Bruce as the driver, with Aunt Kristen by his side and my cousin Jennifer and an elderly lady in the back seat. There was barely any room for her. The van was packed solid with boxes and clothing and with mattresses and bicycles tied on the roof. “More things,” I muttered to myself.
“Quick Alyssa!” Dad exclaimed, “get your mother, Grandma and Grandpop. These arrivals are going to make them happy.” Mom came running out; my grandparents a bit more slowly, followed by most of the others. There was hugging and kissing and sobbing and crying and praising God. Then the questions started.
“Where’s Dean?” Mom asked.
“About two miles down the road,” Bruce answered. “He’s with his girlfriend, Vanetta. They ran out of gas. We toyed with siphoning some from our van, but we had very little also. Thought it was better to make sure that at least one of us would get here for help. Do you have a pickup with enough gas to go and retrieve them and everything we have loaded in his car? It’s also packed to the gills.”
“No need to use a truck,” Dad said. “Let’s bring the whole car back; we can use the car parts as well, so we’ll just take Brutus down with a few of the boys. He can pull the car here while the others can help push up some of the grades.”
“Could they go as soon as possible?” Bruce asked. “I hate leaving them there alone and Kristen’s surely worried about them.” That struck me as odd. My Aunt Kristen always impressed me as a strong, take charge, doesn’t let anything bother her individual. And my cousin Dean, why he was as strong as they come. He had just finished his senior year in high school where he had lettered in three sports. I couldn’t imagine him not being able to deal with any circumstances that might occur. On the other hand, Vanetta, who I had only met a few times, appeared quite timid. I could see her being a bit frightened stranded in an unfamiliar place and not knowing for how long. Grandpop read his son’s request differently though.
“Is trouble following you?” he asked.
“Not imminently,” Bruce replied, “and really none that we could see; just been hearing a lot of stories in our travels.” Bruce didn’t need to say more. Jake grabbed the nearest bicycle and headed down the road, followed by Dennis.
“Be careful!” Mom yelled after them, as Josh ran to the pasture to get Brutus. At the same time Dad headed to the equipment shed and brought back some of the rope we braided for a tow rope. Shortly thereafter, Larry came out of Poppop’s house with two shotguns that he handed to Dad. When he and Josh were astride Brutus, Dad gave them the weapons and bid them haste.
“You be careful, too,” Dad advised them, “and use your best judgment.” He turned to Bruce and Kristen and offered, “Don’t worry. Those boys can handle anything. They’ll all be fine and back in no time.”
Still sensing fear in Kristen’s and Jennifer’s eyes and uncertainty in Bruce’s he added, “If you really feel the need, you could take the moped and join them, but I advise you not to. You look tired and stressed out. Just take a breather and relax. Let’s sit in the shade. How about a cool drink?”
“Sure could use a cold beer,” Bruce answered.
“Sorry, none cold,” Dad replied. “And we’re really saving anything canned for future needs. We’ve fresh spring water.”
“Actually,” Mom interjected, “Jean made some mint tea this morning, if you need more than water.”
“Iced tea?” Aunt Kristen inquired.
“Course not, we’ve no ice,” Mom responded. “Spring temperature cool, though, and not too sweet. She made it with a mixture of that Blue Balsam tea that grows around the flower beds and some of the wild tea from the meadow. She only added a little sugar.”
“Still sounds like a good idea,” Kristen agreed. “First, let’s get mother out of the van. She’s been crammed in there for hours. I’m sure she’s hot and thirsty. Which house will she be in? We should drive closer to the door.”
“”Don’t know yet,” Grandma responded. “I’m sure she’ll want to be close to where you and Bruce bed down. We’re guests here; it’s really up to the Stumps. These are Harvey and Jean’s and Harold and Myra’s homes.”
“No hurry to decide,” Jean said. “For now just pull your van over to the back porch where we can unload the goods. She and the rest can sit on the porch until things get settled. Meanwhile, I’ll fetch the tea from the springhouse.”
“Thanks,” said Kristen. The van was driven to the door of Jean’s upstairs kitchen entrance. Then I first realized who the fourth person in the van was: Aunt Kristen’s mother, Leticia. Only my immediate family would know her. As my Uncle Bruce’s mother-in-law, I had often seen her at my cousins’ birthday parties and such. In fact, the last time would have been just a couple months ago at Dean’s graduation party. She was a frail woman, who needed a walker to get around. She was still, to her credit, pretty spry for her age. But today, as they helped her out of the van, she looked much different. She had a haggard look on her face, the lines on her face deep and more pronounced. Actually, she looked like she had been through a war. We found out, however, that she still had her spirit.
“Bout time you got me out of there,” she snapped. “After all I’ve been through – and I need to go to the bathroom!”
“Yes mother,” Aunt Kristen answered. I saw Harvey roll his eyes at Jean. She responded with that little quirky smile she had. Oh… this could be a good one brewing. They took Leticia into the house to use the bathroom, jabbering all the way. It had become quite muggy that afternoon and the inside of the house was very hot, so they brought out a chair for her to sit on the porch where a nice breeze was flowing through. She took some of the tea, and then started up.
“This tea sure isn’t very cold,” she complained, “and my, was that bathroom dirty.”
Harvey grabbed Jean by the wrist and I think some of the men wanted to run for cover. There was an instant determination made where Leticia was going to sleep. Obviously not in Jean’s house. Actually, I think at that moment, Jean would have made her sleep in the barn. No, in with my grandparents and me she would go. In retrospect it was a good decision for everything was on one floor in Poppop’s house. Also, as it was very difficult for Leticia to come to the butcher house for meals, Kristen would have to take her meals to her, enabling our meals to remain peaceful.
Humans react quite differently to stress. As Bruce relayed to us later that evening, Leticia had been through a lot the last few weeks. Her way of coping, providing a means of survival, was to bitterly lash out. It wasn’t her normal behavior, but now served as her crutch. It successfully got her to this point, and as she settled in she settled down. As some peace was injected into her life, the more peaceful she became – thank goodness. Her irritability that afternoon did serve a useful purpose, however. You see as Kristen, Mom, and Jean catered to and fretted and fumed over Leticia, their fears and concerns about their sons down the road were assuaged.
Uncle Bruce was a different matter. As we started unloading his van, he would pause at least twice a minute to look down the road, searching for signs of his son’s safe return. Within five minutes, which must have seemed like five hours to Bruce, he caught a glimpse of Brutus cresting one of the little knobs in the road about one half mile away. Relief – brought a suspension to the unloading, for Bruce sprinted down the road, followed a bit more slowly by Joe, Aaron, Jennifer, and me on my bike, each with our own concerns. There were two thinking about their sons, three for their brothers, plus me for Brutus, with Joe having enough foresight to carry a bucket of spring water and ladle. Long before we reached them, as they were in full view of the farm, they had shown good sense and pulled Brutus under a big hickory tree so everyone could rest in the shade. Josh was wiping down Brutus and scratching his neck.
“Is something wrong? Is Brutus OK?” I frantically asked when I reached the crew.
“He’s fine,” Josh replied, “and doing a fine job. It’s almost effortless with us pushing. I would say pulling a car on four rubber tires is easier than pulling a plow through hard soil. We’re probably working harder than he is. We needed the break more than he did.”
“Just the same,” Joe said to me, “beings it’s so darn hot, as soon as everyone’s had a drink, take the bucket over to the creek and get him a bucket of water, too.” While they were drinking, I greeted Dean and Vanetta who were riding Jake’s and Dennis’s bicycles.
“You don’t have to stay with us,” Bruce instructed them. “If you’re well rested, just pedal up to the house. The car’s not as important as you are. We’ll get it there. Besides, you mother’s sure anxious about you.”
“Yeah right, Uncle Bruce,” I chided. “You were more bent out of shape than she was.”
“Naw, it was no sweat,” he said. “I knew they’d be all right all along.”
I thought it was a good cover. Why men have to be so macho is beyond me.
“Jennifer,” I offered, “you may have my bike if you want. Ride home with your brother. I’d like to stay and lead Brutus up.”
“Why thank you,” she answered. “Is that OK, Dad?”
“Sure,” Bruce replied, “it’s safe now.”
“Safe?” I quizzed, “safe from what?”
“Oh nothing,” he said, “just an expression.” He couldn’t fool me. Something was amiss. I guess I’d find out in due time. After I’d brought Brutus his water, we finished the trip home. Dean and Vanetta had been warmly received by the clan. The afternoon was waning. So after a short refreshment break, the boys headed to the barn for the evening chores and the cooks to the butcher house to start supper. That still left us with a nice size crew to finish unloading the vehicles, so we continued pulling the stuff out of Bruce’s van and Dean’s car.
To be continued…… Mort
“Quick Alyssa!” Dad exclaimed, “get your mother, Grandma and Grandpop. These arrivals are going to make them happy.” Mom came running out; my grandparents a bit more slowly, followed by most of the others. There was hugging and kissing and sobbing and crying and praising God. Then the questions started.
“Where’s Dean?” Mom asked.
“About two miles down the road,” Bruce answered. “He’s with his girlfriend, Vanetta. They ran out of gas. We toyed with siphoning some from our van, but we had very little also. Thought it was better to make sure that at least one of us would get here for help. Do you have a pickup with enough gas to go and retrieve them and everything we have loaded in his car? It’s also packed to the gills.”
“No need to use a truck,” Dad said. “Let’s bring the whole car back; we can use the car parts as well, so we’ll just take Brutus down with a few of the boys. He can pull the car here while the others can help push up some of the grades.”
“Could they go as soon as possible?” Bruce asked. “I hate leaving them there alone and Kristen’s surely worried about them.” That struck me as odd. My Aunt Kristen always impressed me as a strong, take charge, doesn’t let anything bother her individual. And my cousin Dean, why he was as strong as they come. He had just finished his senior year in high school where he had lettered in three sports. I couldn’t imagine him not being able to deal with any circumstances that might occur. On the other hand, Vanetta, who I had only met a few times, appeared quite timid. I could see her being a bit frightened stranded in an unfamiliar place and not knowing for how long. Grandpop read his son’s request differently though.
“Is trouble following you?” he asked.
“Not imminently,” Bruce replied, “and really none that we could see; just been hearing a lot of stories in our travels.” Bruce didn’t need to say more. Jake grabbed the nearest bicycle and headed down the road, followed by Dennis.
“Be careful!” Mom yelled after them, as Josh ran to the pasture to get Brutus. At the same time Dad headed to the equipment shed and brought back some of the rope we braided for a tow rope. Shortly thereafter, Larry came out of Poppop’s house with two shotguns that he handed to Dad. When he and Josh were astride Brutus, Dad gave them the weapons and bid them haste.
“You be careful, too,” Dad advised them, “and use your best judgment.” He turned to Bruce and Kristen and offered, “Don’t worry. Those boys can handle anything. They’ll all be fine and back in no time.”
Still sensing fear in Kristen’s and Jennifer’s eyes and uncertainty in Bruce’s he added, “If you really feel the need, you could take the moped and join them, but I advise you not to. You look tired and stressed out. Just take a breather and relax. Let’s sit in the shade. How about a cool drink?”
“Sure could use a cold beer,” Bruce answered.
“Sorry, none cold,” Dad replied. “And we’re really saving anything canned for future needs. We’ve fresh spring water.”
“Actually,” Mom interjected, “Jean made some mint tea this morning, if you need more than water.”
“Iced tea?” Aunt Kristen inquired.
“Course not, we’ve no ice,” Mom responded. “Spring temperature cool, though, and not too sweet. She made it with a mixture of that Blue Balsam tea that grows around the flower beds and some of the wild tea from the meadow. She only added a little sugar.”
“Still sounds like a good idea,” Kristen agreed. “First, let’s get mother out of the van. She’s been crammed in there for hours. I’m sure she’s hot and thirsty. Which house will she be in? We should drive closer to the door.”
“”Don’t know yet,” Grandma responded. “I’m sure she’ll want to be close to where you and Bruce bed down. We’re guests here; it’s really up to the Stumps. These are Harvey and Jean’s and Harold and Myra’s homes.”
“No hurry to decide,” Jean said. “For now just pull your van over to the back porch where we can unload the goods. She and the rest can sit on the porch until things get settled. Meanwhile, I’ll fetch the tea from the springhouse.”
“Thanks,” said Kristen. The van was driven to the door of Jean’s upstairs kitchen entrance. Then I first realized who the fourth person in the van was: Aunt Kristen’s mother, Leticia. Only my immediate family would know her. As my Uncle Bruce’s mother-in-law, I had often seen her at my cousins’ birthday parties and such. In fact, the last time would have been just a couple months ago at Dean’s graduation party. She was a frail woman, who needed a walker to get around. She was still, to her credit, pretty spry for her age. But today, as they helped her out of the van, she looked much different. She had a haggard look on her face, the lines on her face deep and more pronounced. Actually, she looked like she had been through a war. We found out, however, that she still had her spirit.
“Bout time you got me out of there,” she snapped. “After all I’ve been through – and I need to go to the bathroom!”
“Yes mother,” Aunt Kristen answered. I saw Harvey roll his eyes at Jean. She responded with that little quirky smile she had. Oh… this could be a good one brewing. They took Leticia into the house to use the bathroom, jabbering all the way. It had become quite muggy that afternoon and the inside of the house was very hot, so they brought out a chair for her to sit on the porch where a nice breeze was flowing through. She took some of the tea, and then started up.
“This tea sure isn’t very cold,” she complained, “and my, was that bathroom dirty.”
Harvey grabbed Jean by the wrist and I think some of the men wanted to run for cover. There was an instant determination made where Leticia was going to sleep. Obviously not in Jean’s house. Actually, I think at that moment, Jean would have made her sleep in the barn. No, in with my grandparents and me she would go. In retrospect it was a good decision for everything was on one floor in Poppop’s house. Also, as it was very difficult for Leticia to come to the butcher house for meals, Kristen would have to take her meals to her, enabling our meals to remain peaceful.
Humans react quite differently to stress. As Bruce relayed to us later that evening, Leticia had been through a lot the last few weeks. Her way of coping, providing a means of survival, was to bitterly lash out. It wasn’t her normal behavior, but now served as her crutch. It successfully got her to this point, and as she settled in she settled down. As some peace was injected into her life, the more peaceful she became – thank goodness. Her irritability that afternoon did serve a useful purpose, however. You see as Kristen, Mom, and Jean catered to and fretted and fumed over Leticia, their fears and concerns about their sons down the road were assuaged.
Uncle Bruce was a different matter. As we started unloading his van, he would pause at least twice a minute to look down the road, searching for signs of his son’s safe return. Within five minutes, which must have seemed like five hours to Bruce, he caught a glimpse of Brutus cresting one of the little knobs in the road about one half mile away. Relief – brought a suspension to the unloading, for Bruce sprinted down the road, followed a bit more slowly by Joe, Aaron, Jennifer, and me on my bike, each with our own concerns. There were two thinking about their sons, three for their brothers, plus me for Brutus, with Joe having enough foresight to carry a bucket of spring water and ladle. Long before we reached them, as they were in full view of the farm, they had shown good sense and pulled Brutus under a big hickory tree so everyone could rest in the shade. Josh was wiping down Brutus and scratching his neck.
“Is something wrong? Is Brutus OK?” I frantically asked when I reached the crew.
“He’s fine,” Josh replied, “and doing a fine job. It’s almost effortless with us pushing. I would say pulling a car on four rubber tires is easier than pulling a plow through hard soil. We’re probably working harder than he is. We needed the break more than he did.”
“Just the same,” Joe said to me, “beings it’s so darn hot, as soon as everyone’s had a drink, take the bucket over to the creek and get him a bucket of water, too.” While they were drinking, I greeted Dean and Vanetta who were riding Jake’s and Dennis’s bicycles.
“You don’t have to stay with us,” Bruce instructed them. “If you’re well rested, just pedal up to the house. The car’s not as important as you are. We’ll get it there. Besides, you mother’s sure anxious about you.”
“Yeah right, Uncle Bruce,” I chided. “You were more bent out of shape than she was.”
“Naw, it was no sweat,” he said. “I knew they’d be all right all along.”
I thought it was a good cover. Why men have to be so macho is beyond me.
“Jennifer,” I offered, “you may have my bike if you want. Ride home with your brother. I’d like to stay and lead Brutus up.”
“Why thank you,” she answered. “Is that OK, Dad?”
“Sure,” Bruce replied, “it’s safe now.”
“Safe?” I quizzed, “safe from what?”
“Oh nothing,” he said, “just an expression.” He couldn’t fool me. Something was amiss. I guess I’d find out in due time. After I’d brought Brutus his water, we finished the trip home. Dean and Vanetta had been warmly received by the clan. The afternoon was waning. So after a short refreshment break, the boys headed to the barn for the evening chores and the cooks to the butcher house to start supper. That still left us with a nice size crew to finish unloading the vehicles, so we continued pulling the stuff out of Bruce’s van and Dean’s car.
To be continued…… Mort
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