Story This Is Me Surviving (Complete)

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 65A

December 7th – Well, the Major sure has a thing for Pearl Harbor Day. He made a big deal out of it and even drew some connections between the unprovoked attack at Pearl Harbor and what happened in our little town. I’m not sure I got all of it but the Major sure seemed to find his outrage as the day wore on and he stopped calling it an “incursion” and started calling it a “repelled invasion.” Strange, but I’m not so crazy that I’ll look a gift horse in the mouth these days.

Rand was as restless as I have ever seen him in his sleep. When he wasn’t tossing and turning he was draped over and around me so tightly there were times I could barely breathe. After one elbow too many I just got up and made my wat to the kitchen to start some tea; not the herbal stuff either, I wanted the strong black stuff that I stoked up some more by making it really sweet.

Not fifteen minutes later Rand came stumbling in all wild eyed, “Where did you go?!”

As gently as I could after being startled and like that I said, “I’m right here.” I picked up the quilt he was dragging and tried to get him to go back to bed. You can imagine how well that went over when I wouldn’t go with him.

Rand got this look on his face like he was about to make a major announcement. “I’m going with you today.”

“Rand … “

“Kiri … “

I just looked at him. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings but there was no way he was in any shape to do what he wanted to do. Then his shoulders slumped.

“My God … I’m useless.”

“No you’re not!”

“Kiri … “

“Rand, I won’t hear anyone talking you down, not even you. You’re injured. You’re hurt. But it won’t stay that way. You will get better. You just need to give yourself some time.”

“Don’t say it.”

I couldn’t help it. It’s like I was channeling my parents or something. Him asking me not to say it only made me need to say it even more. “And this too shall pass.”

“Babe, I asked you not to say it.”

“But you know it’s true. You know it is.”

“Not fast enough, you need me now.”

“I have you now. I have you whether you are standing in front of me or not. Even when you aren’t physically there I feel you caring for me, thinking of me, praying for me. I remember when that was missing in my life, now it’s not. You make my life different.”

“Babe, you just …“

“It’s all right Rand. I know I don’t say that kind of stuff much but I think it all the time.” I ran my fingers through his perpetually messy hair. “Whatever you do, you let me know I’m important to you, a priority, that I’m part of your present and your future.”

“Babe … how come … how … “ He shivered and shook his head. “Fine, I won’t make things harder on you than they already are but you are going armed to the teeth. And even then you aren’t going if Henderson doesn’t provide a guard that I’m comfortable with. And I want you to ride Lou.”

That was easy enough to say yes to. After I said, “Whatever you think best Rand.” He seemed to run out of energy and began to get gray faced. I helped him to push his chair closer to the stove and then cooked some cheesy grits and heated up some of the sausages that I had canned.

I was nearly worried enough about Rand that I was seriously thinking about not going. Rand was dozing in the rocker next to the stove when the sun came up and twenty minutes later Uncle George showed up with Mick and Tommy. The boys were riding two burros and then threw the reins over the rail that Rand had built and then ran around to the kitchen. I caught them while they were still outside and told them to wait for Uncle George.

“It’s all right Babe. I’m awake. Let those two monkeys come on in.”

And they were off again and then suddenly there was silence. Uncle George and I stepped inside to find the boys just standing there with wide eyes and pale faces. I looked at Uncle George and he said, “I tried to tell ‘em but … “ and he shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

“Come on boys. I don’t look that bad do I?”

Mick with the kind of honesty you usually only get with little kids, “You look awful!”

Tommy, the more sensitive of the two, wanted to know if he hurt. “Not as much as it did but enough that I’m gonna need your help today.”

Both boys were eager to do it and Uncle George told me behind his hand, “Now if I could only get them to be that eager about their chores at home.”

I left them to plan the day and I made some Sherpa Tea. I mixed two cups of powdered milk, one-third of a cup of sugar, and two tablespoons of instant tea with lemon in a small plastic container with a tight lid and then I shook it to mix everything up. Then I poured boiling water into my good thermos. When the time came I’d put a cup of hot water in the lid and mix in three heaping tablespoons of the powder and va-voom … good stuff; at least to me it is.

I was checking over my pack and watching Rand go over the guns he wanted me to carry … rifle, shotgun, 9mm, and the Mark III … when I heard the boys came running back into the house with the milk pail they had just left with saying that they heard horses coming towards the house. It was the three soldiers from yesterday along with Mitch, Bradley and Hoss.

“Kiri,” Mitch said tipping his hat. “Seems like you are to take these men on a trek around our area.”

“I suppose that’s what they are expecting.”

The one that was introduced to me as Lt. Dillingham said,“Ma’am, the Major is waiting up at the road with … a Mr. Henderson. He wants to try and get this taken care of as quickly as possible.”

“I wouldn’t mind that myself.” I turned around and went to Rand who’d limped outside in the moccasins we made him, the only thing he’s been able to tolerate for long on his feet. The men gave us a little privacy to say our good byes and I told him, “Please let the boys do the work today. I know you want to get back in gear but I’ll feel much better if you would take it easy for another couple of days.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t you go any further than Mr. Henderson until he is satisfied that you’ve got enough escort. I’m not comfortable with this. I hate it, but if you are going he’ll be the one who can tell if the Major is on the up and up. And stay … “

“ … out of trouble. I’ll try my best. You stay out of trouble too, and try not and let Uncle George drive you too nuts. I’ll be back as soon as I can. There is stew on the back of the stove when you all get hungry and bread in the pie keep.”

I mounted Lou – feeling a little bit ridiculous taking both the rifle and the shotgun – and rode with the six men to where Mr. Henderson waited with two more men that I’d never met dressed in cowboy gear plus Major Timble who sat with another young soldier that was trying his best not to look nervous.

I said hello to Mr. Henderson and asked him about his leg which he said was “tolerable.” He also said that Mitch, Hoss, and Bradley would be my escorts and that the two men who he called Junior and Gator would be with him while he visited with Uncle George and Rand for a while. I was a bit embarrassed by all the favoritism being shown to me but if it made Rand feel better then I decided to put up with it for a while.

The Major wasn’t real pleased to see that three obviously capable men were escorting me, carrying enough hardware to mount a more than adequate defense if need be, but he gave in with good grace … or maybe he just gave in knowing he didn’t have any choice. Even had I been inclined to just lead the Major around by myself no one seemed inclined to let me.

The Major asked some general questions as we headed out to US90 and then over to CR136. We followed CR136, taking the route I took through town. I showed them the house that I slept in and then was a little shocked to see that one side of the building had collapsed. I guess I was a lot luckier than I thought.

When I told them what I had done – taking the guy out and dumping him down the manhole and then taking out the radio operator – Major Timble expressed a lot of … I’ll be polite and call it skepticism. I could have cared less. I was telling him what happened and how it happened, he could believe it or not, it was no skin off my nose. But then my “escorts” had to get in on it and tell about all the other stuff I’d found myself in the middle of. That was totally embarrassing and I told them to knock it off. The Major gave me the squinty-eye and told me to show him the manhole.

The Major didn’t even believe I could have lifted the manhole but I’m a lot stronger than I look and the “manhole” wasn’t your typical cover but was one of those lighter types that you find when they aren’t located in the street. I just pulled out my big craftsman screwdriver … I don’t leave home without it … and pried the lid back quick without thinking.

I had to crawl away really quick to keep from throwing up; the smell hit me full in the face. By the time my stomach was under control one of the soldiers had gone down and confirmed that the body was wearing the same type camouflage type uniform the invaders had and also showed a head wound and did not have any guns. However, the man was gut shot and that was his cause of death. I told them I hadn’t shot the man, only hit him on the head and dumped him after taking his weapons. The Major made sure that the “discrepancy” got written in notebook one of his men were carrying.

I was upset, not so much that the Major called it a discrepancy but at the fact that someone had shot the guy … assuming it was the same guy which it most likely was. Why would someone have done that? What purpose did it serve? And who did it?

Next I had to prove I could make the shot I claimed I did when it came to taking out the radio. That was easy enough and the Major’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. Rand can shoot a lot better than me and I expect a lot of people around here can. I don’t know why he was so flaming surprised. Even boys like Mick and Tommy help protect the livestock and put meat on the table. I found out later the Major only had one child … a daughter … but she was pretty young when she died from the flu and from what I gather from what he said was spoiled and protected so maybe he just doesn’t get how things are these days.

From there it got more interesting. The people along River Road were suspicious of us. The only one that seemed to thaw at all was Ron Harbinger and Mr. Winston who were out front of the Harbinger place working on the fence. Not giving the Major any chance to object I stopped and enquired whether I could run up to the main house and stick my head in and say hello to Julia. Ron said sure but that everyone would probably run interference before I could get near the baby. I rode up to the house and Julia was sitting on the porch. She didn’t look so hot. There was a fading bruise on her cheek, but it was weird … she looked happier than I had ever seen her. She had the baby in her lap so I didn’t want to get too close.

“He won’t bite,” she laughed.

“Maybe not but I’m dirty and I don’t want to set him off. Babies make a crazy amount of noise when you set them off.”

“They make a lot of noise when anything sets them off, buy I’ve got a good baby. He’s just as sweet as he can be, oh yes he is.”

When she started with the weird talk I made my escape. I’m afraid if I started holding one I’d start wanting one and that isn’t something that Rand and I need right now, not with him being laid up and all the insanity on the airwaves of the radio. I’ll explain that later.

It wasn’t too far from there that I showed them where I cut behind the compound … now semi-occupied by the US Military … and we had to wait for the Major to send one of his men ahead so that we wouldn’t get shot at. When I was trying to explain to them how I had run in to the portable building I had to keep going over it. I expect that really didn’t believe me. I have a hard time believing I did that now that the rush is past. When I told them how I rigged the grenade all of them, even Mitch, just sort of sat there with their mouths hanging open.

“Young lady, would you please explain to me how you figured out how to do such a thing if you have never handled explosives before?”

“I never said I’d never handled explosives before. One of the foster boys I used to live with really had a thing for … ummm … pyrotechnics. I’d just never handled a real grenade before but they aren’t exactly what you would call a complicated piece of machinery. Besides, all the war movies I used to watch with my Daddy is what gave me the idea especially movies like The Dirty Dozen.”

I thought the Major’s eyes were going to bug out and the other men, including one of the soldiers, suddenly fell into a fit of coughing. I don’t mean to make people crazy, it just sort of happens.

From there I took them to the vantage point where I met Pepper Duncan. We were all real solemn and I had it confirmed, even though it hadn’t been said outright before then, that Pepper … he took his own life. The major was shaking mad. Last night the so-called psychologist admitted that he didn’t like military men but he also denied intentionally seeking to hurt them. He still believed that Lt. Duncan was suffering from denial of what he would be capable of and didn’t want to believe that the military would send him back to civilian life to make it however he could.

“We’ve been forced up to this point into using civilians for debriefing purposes. They were supposed to be the independent observers of what is occurring within the ranks. From here on out those special civilian observers will not be dealing with anything more important than paper clips and thumb tacks if the Colonel has his way.”

“The Colonel” is the same one whose staff that Ram has been assigned. I heard later that Mr. Henderson said that the Colonel was a “Constitutionalist” and had a particular way of looking at things. This won over a lot of people, but it has made him more than a few enemies as well.

While I was thinking about Pepper and what a waste his loss was I crawled through the culvert again and they got out their silly measuring tape and set up another target. It took me a couple of times to hit it.

Hoss said, “Kiri, that was a dat blamed lucky shot.”

“Luck didn’t have anything to do with it. I prayed for some help.”

That got me a look from a lot of the soldiers standing around but the Major didn’t give me any grief at all. He just said, “Hmmmm.”

I don’t know what it was but all of a sudden I started getting depressed and walked away. Mitch and his men knew to give me room. I guess my mood swings are pretty common knowledge. The Major though, I don’t guess he paid any attention to Mitch’s suggestion that we take a break since we’d been at this all morning. The Major came over to where I was standing and asked, “Why the sudden appearance of caution? Do you have anything you should be telling me?”

I didn’t even have the energy to get mad like I probably should have. “No. But would you get a kick out of all of this? I don’t like killing people sir. This isn’t anything like I thought my life was going to turn into or be about. I didn’t chose this, not to start with. But the people of this town … this is where I live. I know a lot of these people, well sort of, I’ve met them and most of them have been nice. They are survivors. I know what being a survivor feels like. I’ve been doing it to some degree since my family was killed. But even then, I didn’t do it for the towns people, I did it because I was looking for Rand and I thought he was in here somewhere. I did it because I know Rand would have done it for me. But saying it out loud like that, it doesn’t make me sound like a very good person and … and … I don’t like that too much.”

Then I got a surprise. “Young lady, soldiers don’t do their job because they like it. They do it because their honor demands it.”

I’m still not sure if he was calling me a soldier but I think he was trying to comfort me in some way. Either way he wasn’t cutting me any slack and I had me back to describing what happened. You only really catch things like that in snapshots, your part of it. The tower fell and the odds got moved in the townspeople’s favor just enough that perseverance the townspeople prevailed. Not everyone lived and a lot of the invaders probably wished they had died in the initial fighting. I didn’t know about how some of them had been dragged off into the woods and given some rough country justice. I’m not sure that I would have cared then, but I cared now and I didn’t want to think about it too hard.

I told them how frantic I had been that I couldn’t find Rand, how I had asked everyone and how no one had seen him. “And that is when you decided to check the processing plant?”

“No, I mean it was but it wasn’t my idea. You have to understand, a lot of the families are dependent on their livestock. They knew, from some of the people that had been captured in the second pass the invaders made in the community, that all of the farm animals were being gathered up and taken over to the processing plant to be slaughtered to feed the invaders and the larger number of invaders that would be coming in behind them. After all of the families were reunited they thought of the animals.”

“And you just went along for the ride?”

“No. Rand’s cousin … Brendon Crenshaw … had stayed behind after his father had taken the women and boys back with him to the farm. He and Clyde … that’s a neighbor that helps out … went to go gather up their animals, or at least to make certain that they were separated out. They have a large number of them as their business was a small beef and dairy farm before everything went bad. They also keep pigs and chickens.”

“Did they get all of their animals back?”

“What? Oh … yeah … except for a pig that they are pretty sure was killed and eaten by the invaders. They had to put down one of their dairy cows after they got her home, I’m not sure what was wrong with it.”

“Some people are claiming that they lost a great deal of livestock and they are applying for assistance.”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to take it up with them. Or ask Mr. Henderson, he might know.”

We had gotten back on our mounts and were riding over to the processing plant and I dreaded it. Mitch was there that day so I left it to him to explain how they were already prepared for us when we arrived, having heard the fighting at the compound. But the small number of men that had been left to manage the livestock weren’t a match for our numbers. Also, there were townspeople on the inside under guard that overpowered their captors so that the invaders wound up fighting a battle on two fronts. They lost, big time.

But still no Rand. I got off Lou and tied him to a post and walked inside. I don’t think I was paying too much attention to the Major or anyone else at that point. It’s like I was reliving it only in slow motion. I remember still hearing screams even after the fighting at stopped. I remember know that wasn’t right, that I needed to make it stop. I walked from the processing floor back into the administrative offices. It was as dark as it was that day until I got to the back of the building where the executive offices were located. The windows back there let in plenty of light, too much light; the UV film had bubbled off and peeled away in a lot of places.

Ram kept calling me to slow down but the screams had stopped. They had to break the chair that he had been cuffed to since they couldn’t find the keys on the dead man that had secured him there.

I couldn’t … I guess something in me knew but didn’t want to think admit it. I still don’t want to think about it. Rand’s restlessness isn’t the only thing keeping me up at night. There was this conference room, or at least that is what I think that spaced was used for. It was too big to big someone’s office and there were chairs piled up in the corner of the room. The carpeting on the floor was dusty and moldy. The whole room stank … but not just from the carpet and the mold on the walls.

Reality didn’t want to register. I won’t describe what met my eyes. That’s between Rand and I and it is going to stay like that. He was unconscious by the time I got there. There was this guy and he was using a flensing knife and was … forget it, not going there except in my nightmares. My inner monster took over. I guess we all have one but I don’t like to let mine out, it looks way too much like the person I see in the mirror every day.

Remembering, I slowly turned into the room. The walls were still splattered with things I would rather not think about. The metal frame that Rand had been tied to was still there but had fallen over. There were dark, sticky spots in the carpet that I avoided. And then a glitter caught my. It was that ring, that godforsaken ring. It was days before the last of the bruises caused by that ring came to the surface.

I picked the ring up and threw it as hard as I could … narrowly missing the Major who had been following me. He ducked thank goodness but it was a moment or two (or three) before I had myself under enough control to apologize. I’m not sure what he saw on my face but as he guided me out of the room I heard him tell some soldiers that had been standing around, “I want that room stripped. Then burn whatever you take out. Now.”

It didn’t take long to walk outback to the holding pens. “Rand came around and I guess we were all running on adrenaline. People were so happy to find their livestock and to find the few folks that had been unaccounted for that we weren’t paying as much attention as we should have been, at least I wasn’t. We were just pulling ourselves together to get home before it got any later. I just knew I needed to get Rand home and fast. This was before the cavalry showed up with their medical stuff.”

“So you found you found a conveyance?” the Major prompted.

“Yeah, our wagon was sitting right over there. Had a bunch of junk in it – empty green boxes and junk like that – and I wasn’t able to push it out. I moved things around just enough to give Rand a place to lay down and I threw a couple of canvas tarps in there to try and take away some of the sharp edges. Then I spotted the mules. Bud was no problem, he wanted to go home and let me hitch him. Lou … Lou is the one I’m riding today … was acting funny. I should have known to pay more attention, Lou always looks after me, but I just thought it was all the craziness and noise you know. Then he took me skiing for a few feet and I was afraid I couldn’t stay to my feet so I turned loose. I’ve still got the bruises from not paying attention like I should. I don’t know where Rand and Ram found the energy … especially Rand … but if it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t be here. The rest is probably in some report from the military guys that showed up after that.”

“Yes,” he said and then paused. “The Russian … he was a Lieutenant Colonel Dragovanovich and he had a very nasty reputation according to the little bit of intel we’ve been able to locate on him. The Venezuelans that we’ve been able to recover and interrogate both feared and hated him in equal degree. He showed no respect to the Venezuelans at all, none of the Russians elite did. Apparently after the action down in south Florida Dragovanovich thought they would have more success if he took some men into this area and softened the locals up first. Obviously he was wrong.” He patted me on the shoulder. I was still away in my head a bit and didn’t pay him too much attention.

A little while later Mitch startled me out of my daze when he came up and said, “The Major wants to know if we can wait a few more minutes while he makes sure everything is in order and to make sure nothing needs clarifying.”

I remember saying, “Fine, whatever” before going over to a stoop out of the human traffic and sitting down and pulling out my thermos. A soldier walked over with a chair and said, “With the Major’s compliments ma’am.” It beat sitting on cold concrete so I didn’t fuss and even said thank you.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 65B

Mitch, Hoss, and Bradley milled about a bit talking with some of the soldiers on breaks but they never let me out of their sight, not even when I found out where the latrines were from a passing female soldier. I was just getting the point of being anxious to get home to Rand when another soldier came up and asked if we’d come with him to the Major’s office. The “office” was a tent set up between the former compound and the processing plant.

“I appreciate your forbearance. It appears that everything is in order and I won’t keep you any longer. Mr. Peters, I was told that you would see Mrs. Joiner home safely.” At Mitch’s nod the Major continued, “I would ask that anything you might have seen or heard be carefully hoarded and not become common knowledge. We suspect that the invaders may have had look outs or contacts within the community before … “

Hoss exclaimed, “Now hold on a second there … “

“Easy Hoss,” I warned not wanting the hotheaded man to get into trouble when he didn’t need to just because the Major tiffed him off. “Don’t forget ‘members of the community’ include people like the ones we ran into at Itchetucknee and some of the refugees from the resettlement camp. When people get hungry and scared for their own they’ll do things that they might never have imagined themselves doing.”

The Major, maybe a better judge of character than I had given him credit for being at first said, “Perhaps I should rephrase my words. We believe that they had contacts living in this area, not necessarily long time members of the community. But we are ruling nothing out. Henderson appears to screen his men quite … thoroughly. He also keeps close tabs on the community and he too raised the issue that the invaders appeared to have quite a bit of inside information considering the language barrier. So, anything that you think you surmise … ignore it, don’t share it, forget it. But remain vigilant. While there would not appear to be a good reason for them to strike this area to begin with their reasons may lead them back again if they think the guard here has dropped.”

“Resources,” I blurted out before I thought hard enough. “Resources for their supply lines. They went after the animals nearly as soon as they did the people. Who isn’t hungry these days? And I imagine an army would be real worried about feeding its troops.”

I got a look from all the men in the room, especially the Major who gave me a considering look. “Perhaps. It would be to everyone’s benefit if any … unusual or sudden … wealth … was watched carefully. While it is perfectly reasonable to assume that there are people that prepared or are industrious, it would still be wise to be … cautious.”

In other words I figure he is asking us in a roundabout way to be snitches. Well, that isn’t going to happen. I already know for a fact that any shenanigans are likely to find the stupid on the wrong end of a gun. This isn’t the wild west, but it isn’t quite the 21st century any more either.

The day moved pretty quick after that. We were back on US90 and in no time I found myself on our road and then in front of our house. In no time after that Uncle George told the boys to load up they needed to get home. I got a quick, hard hug from him and the boys … really weird and all I could do was stand there as stiff as a statue because it was so unexpected … and then a wink from Mr. Henderson as he and Junior and Gator left.

I must have looked a little silly because I walked up to Rand – he was in an extraordinarily good mood which was again strange after the way he had been last night and this morning – and he looked at me and said, “Alone at last.”

I was so tired that all I was thinking about was that I hadn’t had lunch and that I still needed to cook dinner. I wasn’t paying too much attention to Rand grinning like a lunatic because I just thought that it was because he was glad to have me home in one piece. I walked through the kitchen and into the living room and smack into a crate.

“What the heck?!”

“Christmas came a little early.”

There were boxes everywhere. I have to say that just for a second all I could think about was the mess. It wasn’t that long ago that I stopped tripping over the stuff we had brought back from Itchetucknee. Thankfully I managed to keep my groans and moans to myself and just stand there thunderstruck.

“I know. Isn’t it great! Ram sent this by way of Mr. Henderson. Of course Henderson got a cut but he was more than happy to help out and I … I know I … look Ram sent some black powder and some other re-load stuff and Clyde … “

“Oh … um sure … whatever you think best. Please tell me all these boxes aren’t full of stuff that goes boom.”

“Oh Babe,” Rand laughed like I was being funny on purpose, ‘cause I wasn’t, I was serious. “I don’t know what is in half …. “

But I had stopped listening. There was a tree … a real honest to goodness Christmas tree … standing where the TV and stereo cabinet used to be.

“Oh Rand … where did it come from?”

“Where did what come from? Oh, uh that, well the boys helped me. The wagon was hitched to Bud because we needed more logs and I road to show them the tree I have been working on cutting into pieces. We drove passed this cedar and Tommy said it looked like a Christmas tree. I thought that you might … well anyway, don’t you want to know what is in the boxes that Ram sent?”

“Rand, it’s perfect. It’s just like the trees that Daddy used to cut for us.”

“It is? But … it’s not a real Christmas tree; it’s just an old cedar. Ram probably sent some good stuff and … “

“It is too a Christmas tree, a perfect Christmas tree. Let’s decorate it. Tonight. I’ll pop corn and …”

And then Rand was laughing. I mean really laughing and then he was … well, not laughing anymore and just holding on to me real tight.

“I keep forgetting. It’s never been about presents to you has it?”

Well that just confused me like it always does when he gets all philosophical but then I forgot about being confused because I was home and Rand was home and … we hadn’t cuddled in a while. He was still hurt and I was a lot more tired than I expected but that didn’t stop us … not much anyway.

Dinner was soup and popcorn and some eggless eggnog that I made with milk and vanilla pudding and nutmeg. You take a three ounce box of instant vanilla pudding and mix it with one cup of milk until the pudding forms, then you add milk until you get the thickness of nog that you like to drink and add one or two teaspoons of vanilla and about a quarter teaspoon of ground nutmeg. Not the most nutritious dinner in the world but it was fun.

Next I pulled my Mom’s and Rand’s mom’s decorations out of the storage tub I had put them in for safe keeping and we decorated the little tree with our favorite ornaments. The tree wouldn’t hold them all so in the next couple of days I’ll make a garland to hang and we’ll had the other ornaments on that. I would have started on it tonight since there were some branches on the porch that they had trimmed off the bottom of the tree but Rand was running out of steam by that point and I could tell he was having to work hard at looking like he was having fun.

I was all set for us to go to bed after taking care of the last few animal chores … the never ending animal chores … but Rand wanted me to read the letter that Ram had written.

“Just tell me what was in it.”

“I didn’t read it.”

“What not?”

“It was addressed to you. You wouldn’t have read anything that was addressed just to me.”

“That’s different.”

“Kiri … don’t be ornery, just read the letter.”

“Fine. Dear Kiri and Rand … see, it was addressed to both of us. Hey, no throwing pillows. You want me to read this or not?”

Dear Kiri and Rand,

I didn’t get to say much of a good bye. I supposed by now you’ve heard about Pepper, if not I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. I thought I was the weaker of the two of us but it looks like I was wrong. It’s hard to be happy about something that should never have happened and is a loss. But I promised from here on out that you don’t have to worry about me living in the past. Whatever happened between Sherri and I, it’s over and I can’t change it. I can only go forward from here. At least that is what I’m telling myself today, Shorty.

I had a bit of good luck. I ran across a reclamation operation that failed. We haven’t found it in the official roster so we don’t know if it was officially sanctioned or not. No locals were making a claim to anything … no locals around here anymore, the summer storms ran them off of the coast. We are prohibited from making a profit of any kind off the reclamation operations but the Colonel reads the regs that we have some leeway as to where we offload and distribute any reclaimed resources. No really, no “wink, wink, nudge, nudge.” The Colonel is a straight shooter. The man squeaks when he walks. It’s bizarre because he is actually getting things done without having to grease any palms if you know what I mean.

Since your little town got hit by the VRC (short for Venezuelan-Russian Coalition) the Colonel readily signed off on a good sized shipment coming your way. It was made doubly easy when he found out that Bill Sawyer is ex-military and runs the Trade Shack.

I hope I did OK. I sent most of the convenience foods, what there were, to the Shack for distribution in the community. Sent all the baby stuff that way too, not that there was much. I peeked and you and Rand seemed prepared for that but you also said you weren’t looking for that to happen any time soon. I ain’t saying anything else about that because the pictures that makes in my head turns my brain inside out.

Had to give Henderson a cut to take you the stuff I did manage to set aside. Not too happy about that but he’s not a bad guy, just wish I could have sent you more but I was limited to a poundage and that included whatever it cost to transport it to your place.

Hope you can use what I did manage to send. The big crate is full of fabric. The lieutenant I work with called them bolts of fabric. I don’t have any reason to think that she is wrong. The lieutenant also helped me to pick out some of the clothes and stuff that is in the other boxes. Man oh man, it’s the end of the world and women are still hard to shop for. Rand, there is a box you might want to have inside the crate that has some odds and end metal stuff… files, spikes and stuff like that. The medics around here pass them out like party favors.

Sorry Kiri, most of the paper goods were already gone by the time we rolled into the warehouse but I did manage to pull some more cleaning junk. I know you had mentioned bleach but that was all requisitioned by the mobile hospital, even that powdered chlorine stuff you use for pools. They are having to sterilize and reuse all of their instruments … and some of their bandages which is pretty much as gross as you can imagine even if they do boil them in cauldrons and then dry and press them in these special laundry units that have been set up. Most of the rags and towels were also requisitioned by the hospital but I’ll stay on the look out.

There is a footlocker buried in the second big crate. Rand, have fun. I’m not sure how this got overlooked but I slid it into the pile I was sending. I’m telling Henderson what is in it so he can protect it special. If you don’t get it then you know who to take it up with.

I’ll leave you to going through everything. And no, I don’t want anything in return except maybe a place to stay if I can ever get up that way again and a meal to fill my belly. I was in a lot worse shape than perhaps you knew but now I am not. You and Rand are buena gente.

Vaya con Dios hermanita. Look after my little sister Rand and keep her safe … especially from herself.


December 8th – Would pick baking day to warm back up. Rand tried to do too much yesterday and has a wet cough today. I dosed him with some store-bought decongestant that I had and he’s been coughing up nasty junk most of the day and sleeping the rest of it.

He did manage to help a little with unpacking the boxes that Ram had sent. I put the wooden crates out in the shed. Rand wants to take them apart and use them as building materials for the larger henhouse that he says we need.

I need some shelving up in the sewing room as well to store all the bolts of fabric that we have. What I don’t think I have enough of is thread. I guess that is something that guys just don’t think about. You can have lots of fabric, zippers, buttons, pins and what have you but if you don’t have sewing thread you are kind of stuck. I’ve written it down on my list to talk to Missy about.

The footlocker is what the black powder and stuff was in. I’ll leave that to Rand. I pushed it under the dining room table until he can deal with it. Everything else I just found a hole for except for the few things that I set in the kitchen. I feel like quarantining some of the food stuff that Ram sent. The flour was full of weevils. Not as bad as some I’ve seen but still, I spent over an hour sifting it and then putting it into jars.

I used some of the flour to finish the day’s baking. I had a jar of dill pickles that only had one pickle left so I used the juice and pickle to make Dill Pickle Bread. Then I made the big batch of salt rising bread too. While the big batch of bread of baking I made a batch of doughnuts using a cup of my sourdough starter. The first two batches of sourdough that I tried didn’t make for some reason but the third batch did and it has been going gangbusters ever since, I just have to keep it fed. The last thing I made was some trail bread.

First you add 2 cups of white flour, two cups of whole wheat flour, one-third cup of wheat germ, three tablespoons of powdered milk, three-quarter cup of packed brown sugar, one and a half teaspoon of baking powder, and one and a half teaspoon of salt together in a big bowl. Then in another bowl mix three-quarter cup of water, half cup of honey, one-third cup of molasses, and one-third cup of vegetable oil then add and blend the rest of the ingredients until the dough mix is moist. The pour the dough into a greased square baking pan and bake at 300 degrees for one hour. The bread should pull away from the side of the pan when ready. The weird thing about this bread is that you cut it into squares while warm and then leave it in the pan to dry, uncovered, for eight to ten hours. After that you wrap each piece individually in plastic wrap and store them in ziploc bags. This bread keeps and travels really well withing getting all smushed or crumbling all to pieces.

I think the tea I drank too late has finally worn off. Teach me to use black tea instead of herbal when I just want to wet my whistle. And there goes Rand moaning in his sleep. I’m worried that he is having nightmares. I don’t know whether to ask him or not. It scares me how long Rand is taking to come back from this. I’ve never known him to do anything but bounce back like a rubber ball, this is totally different. I don’t know how to help him.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 66A

December 11th – I really wish this weather would make up its mind. After being all cold and rainy it’s popping up into the 80s – OK low 80s but still – in the middle of the day. The mosquitoes may be doing the happy dance but I’m certainly not. I don’t mind it being warm at all; I just would like to have a better idea of what the weather was going to be from one day to the next. It gets frustrating trying to plan chores.

The weather, aside from the exploding bug population, has actually been good for Rand. He’s been able to sit out in the porch or lanai and soak up some sun. He’s nowhere near as pale looking as he was and his bruises have stopped spreading though there are still quite a few that look nasty. I think his lungs are finally clear too. Pastor Ken, looking rode hard and hung up wet, agrees but asked Rand to continue taking it easy for another week before even thinking about doing any heavy labor; not what Rand wanted to hear but he’ll mind or I’ll tie him to the bed posts for the duration. I still worry there is a relapse in there somewhere waiting to happen. This whole thing has scared me to death. I know in my head that Rand and I haven’t been together even a year but I don’t know how I would live without him and I can’t even bring myself to think like that because all I see is this huge black nothingness.

I know how real that real life can be. And I lived … sort of … after losing Daddy and Momma and brother but, I don’t want to go through that again. And it is different too. Rand feels like he is part of me, the good part. Losing him would be like having my heart cut out and amputating both arms and a leg. I might still be me, but a lot of important parts would be gone and not growing back.

Pastor Ken came just in time for lunch today. I made bean bread with some fried squirrel. I shot the squirrel out in the orchard chewing around at the base of one of my peach trees. Thankfully Rand felt well enough to skin it. I don’t mind cutting our table meat up for cooking but I prefer not having to skin the furry ones, plucking that turkey was hard enough. Rand has all of the furry stuff from our hunting successes strung on what he calls stretchers. Some he is going to make into leather … gloves, gaskets, etc. … and some he is going to leave furry. I have come around to the idea of having a fur bead spread, we just may not get it this year; I hate trying to sleep in the cold. Rand says it will keep the amount of wood we go through at night way down too. Eventually the geese may give off enough feathers for a comforter but by then we might need to think about some type of mattress topper as the mattresses start wearing out. It seems we have to think more about what we’ll need in the future than what we can actually use today.

Bean bread is easy. It actually isn’t bread per se but more like a dumping or maybe in a tamale type thing. I took four cups of freshly ground cornmeal (wow is that stuff good) and mixed it with two cups of mashed, cooked pinto beans. Then to that mess I added two cups of boiling water that had one half teaspoon of baking soda in it. This makes a dough stiff enough to roll into balls. I dropped the balls in a pot of boiling broth left over from yesterday’s pot of green beans with some water added to stretch it out. It takes about forty-five minutes for the balls to cook through but they sure are good. Even better is that it doesn’t matter what kind of broth you cook them in, you can even use just plain boiling water though that makes them a little bland.

I split the fried squirrel between Rand and Ken despite their protests; I just wasn’t all that hungry, my stomach has been acting up again. I think it’s just stress; reminds me of finals week and all the pressure of trying to meet the expectations of people I’d never met.

Speaking of expectations I sure got a shock when we went to church services yesterday. I was willing to stay home but Rand insisted we go and it was turned out a good way to get information on people. Momma O was there, not near as sassy as she normally is but better than I expected her to be. Except for the crying part. She cried all over me and gave me pats and hugs for “saving” Sadie. She wasn’t the only one; I could have dug a hole, crawled in, and pulled it closed after me. If some of those folks had had a microscope they couldn’t have stared at me any closer. A good thing Pastor Ken was preaching on grace and forgiveness and how it is a thing we are called to give even when the recipient doesn’t “deserve” it. I was trying to hang onto his words and not blow my stack at all the people who kept getting in my personal space and touching me. I didn’t feel right again until I had a chance to get home and wash up some. I know most of them didn’t mean any harm but there were a few I wanted to flatten with a hymnal. It was like being in a dog pack or being back in school; some people want to push you forward and some people want to push you down. I’m not crazy about having either done to me.

I did what I did out of personal necessity, not to be some kind of leader or hero. I don’t want people to see something in me that doesn’t exist. I’m just me. There’s no reason why any grown person couldn’t have done the same thing I did. I think the heroes, if there are any in this situation, were the men that took advantage of the fallen tower to grab the weapons and fight back against huge odds. Another example is the women that fought to keep the VRC from taking the young women and girls to that trailer despite knowing … knowing for sure … they would be hit and beaten for it. What I helped do may have been big and flashy, and it may have started the ball rolling, but it could just as easily have had a different result. What I did took the brake off of the windlass, but it was the machinery … the townspeople themselves … that actually got the job done.

I tried to tell folks that but too many of them didn’t seem to want to listen. The ones who wanted to make a big deal out of what I did were confused or hurt that I didn’t want their attention. The ones who weren’t impressed called what I said false modesty to draw even more attention to myself. Attention?! Yuck … attention of that sort I can do without. Me and pedestals … I’d rather jump down and land on my feet than fall off and land on my face.


December 12th – Ran out of ink last night and it was too late to make more. I guess it was a good thing because I needed a good night’s sleep. Rand and I even skipped listening to the radio for once. Saved us from going to bed worried or depressed. I was well rested when I got up this morning and I’m happy that I was able to get my work done without feeling like I’d wrestled a giant in my sleep. Most days lately I’ve been too tired to even hear Rand’s snoring.

Brendon and Clyde showed up unannounced this morning and helped do some of the fieldwork that has had to be pushed off because of circumstances. Rand refused to be left out of it. When I would have said something Brendon jogged my elbow and said, “Well if you feel up to it Cuz I’m glad. You ride the cultivator; the mules never listen to me when I try to drive them.”

I wanted to stomp Brendon until Clyde found me in the kitchen on the excuse of wanting something to drink and explained that it was one of those guy things again. They’d make sure riding the cultivator was the only thing Rand did by walking ahead of the mules to check on laid over grain heads. He’d be riding but the mules wouldn’t be pulling at his arms any. I suppose what they did worked but Rand was still exhausted by the end of the day. He was so tired he let me help him in the shower and then didn’t really fuss when I suggested he just relax in bed instead of the recliner for a while. This way I don’t have to wake him up to get him to come to bed and we only run the woodstove in the bedroom rather than both the woodstove and the fireplace. It may be getting up there during the day but at night it is still dropping into the upper 40s and it is damp. I can’t stand sleeping on damp sheets as it makes my legs ache like crazy. I swear, guys and their pride are going to give me an ulcer yet.

It is still early even though it is dark. Rand managed to finish his dinner but not much else and is asleep behind me in the bed. I’ve closed the bed curtains I managed to rig up to hold in the heat at night and the quiet is giving me time to go back over what has been happening. A few more bodies have been found, mostly families that lived way out that have been attacked by the few VRC stragglers that the military hasn’t been able to round up. Major Timble was able to track down a few more VRC and after interrogation I heard they were summarily executed. I’m not sure how I feel about that so I’ll turn it over to God. It disturbs me but at the same time there is a sense of Old Testament justice to it. I don’t know; it gives me a headache and upset stomach if I worry at it too much.

Sadie’s little sister is eating and sleeping normally again though she has a hard time sleeping by herself. She’s on a trundle bed in Momma O’s room for now. I think Hannah needing her is actually what has helped Momma O hang on and get better when no one expected her to. One day the Lord will call Momma O home but it looks like it is going to be a while longer than what people were thinking it would be. Hannah wasn’t … well, she wasn’t molested exactly but she witnessed some things that no little kid should.

I took her to the side and asked her flat out what had happened. Everyone was afraid to ask her I guess or was tippy toeing around it too much. I’ve learned from bitter experience that sometimes you just have to get it out no matter how nasty things are or it sits and festers and … well, things don’t go too well.

What she told me wasn’t nice but I saw worse go on in the warehouse; course I was older too. Since no other of the adults seemed to know what to tell her I asked her if she, you know, understood what she had seen. Boy did she have things messed up and turned inside out. Part of the problem of course was that her dad was a real creep from what little bit I’ve heard. No wonder she had started acting like she didn’t like Paul and his father and absolutely wouldn’t let Pastor Ken examine her at all. Once she had things explained to her and she could ask some questions she didn’t seem so afraid any more. I’m not saying she is cured of what ails her, and it’s a shame that she had to learn about that stuff in that way, but she seemed a bit more … stable I guess you would call it … by the time the dinner-on-the-grounds was over than when she had arrived that morning.

Paul came by today while the guys were out in the field and asked me what I had done. I thought I was in hot water at first because he looked so serious but he explained what he meant after he got over his own embarrassment. Seems that Hannah had given a rather graphic explanation of events to Sadie and then explained how she now understood what she had seen and was sorry that she had been so mean to Paul and then insisted on making sure that Sadie actually liked … well, what Paul and she did. Apparently the walls aren’t quite as thick as Paul and Sadie thought they were. Makes me understand why they started making houses with split plan bedrooms. And why my parents built our house with the block walls on the inside as well as the outside.

Boy did Paul take the long way around in explaining things. After I finally figured out what he was trying to get around to asking I cut him a break and just explained. I don’t know if it is a guy thing or if Paul really is that easily embarrassed. By the time I finished explaining he was the same color as the beets that I took out of the jar for lunch. But at least it is all cleared up. I’m glad I was able to help Hannah; life is hard enough without going around with misunderstandings being taken for truth. I’ve had to iron out a few of my own this past year.

Wish I could say I was misunderstanding what we’ve been hearing on the radio. The whole world seems to be going insane or a reasonable facsimile thereof. The US, if I understand it right, is in a period of extreme isolationism right now. We aren’t trading with foreign countries, import or exports. All available food is being kept in-country which is hacking the heck out of places that used to depend on our exports of wheat, rice, and sugar. We aren’t importing stuff which is hacking the heck out of places that reached the developing-nation level because of all their junk we used to buy or all the people that our companies used to employ. We aren’t even importing oil because between what is in Alaska and in the Gulf states (Gulf of Mexico that is) we’ve got enough for the little bit of refining that is going on and it all being reserved for the US military and government agencies; or for keeping the big agricultural companies running so that the government has food to distribute, of course those places have been taken over by the government anyway so it is all the same thing.

Most of our troops have been pulled in from foreign countries with only token presences in countries that have been our allies for decades or in our protectorates like Guam and Puerto Rico. Just like people used to criticize the US for sticking our nose into everybody else’s business now people are claiming we aren’t doing enough to end the chaos that the world has descended into. According to some of the (few) American radio operators, they are just hacked off that our government no longer supports theirs and that America stopped pumping big bucks into their economies. Me? I think they all give me a headache. When I say that Rand gets grumpy and tells me, “You need to plug into what is going on out in the world more. It’s important.”

I told him I will, just as soon as I can get what I need to do now taken care of. The garden needs turning and prepping for the January planting. The seat of the pants of two pairs of his blue jeans are wearing through. The barn has a leak in the roof, thankfully it is small and not over where the grain is stored. The wood pile is a lot lower than I’m comfortable with. I could have kept going but I was making him feel bad. He knows that we are behind but I need to make sure he understands that I don’t blame him for it.

Frankly the whole country has enough problems to keep us all busy for a long, long time. Groups of people are trying to set up their own ethnic or religious states within the borders of the Continental US and it is a full time job just trying to keep from having things like the Islamic State of Massachusetts become a reality or the Congolese of the Mississippi Delta. Instead of dispersing, groups have been going to population centers and forming their own “governments”; more like warlord leaders is what it sounds like. The problem is that you would think people going to their so-called own kind and isolating themselves would cut down on the violence but it has done the exact opposite.

The government is doing what it can to prevent these states-within-states from getting a foothold but that’s like trying to put perfume back in the bottle once it has been sprayed. And this perfume stinks.

And those state-within-states stink too … literally. It seems like every time you hear about people congregating in large groups trying to recreate whatever type of lifestyle they had in their “homeland” you also begin to hear of things like cholera, malaria, dysentery, and other illnesses that really weren’t a problem in the US since the early 20th century. Starvation is also a problem because large numbers of people congregated into one area just adds more pressure on the already limited resources.

So far we don’t have any problems from bleed over from locations like that. Atlanta is too big a mess for anyone to want to take over although folks claiming to be an offshoot of the Nation of Islam appear to be trying to organize some of the gangs in and around Fulton County. Good luck with that.

We haven’t said anything to anybody about what we are hearing which can be stressful in and of itself when you don’t have anyone to discuss stuff with. News is leaking out into the community but not from us. No one knows we have the radio. I’m pretty sure that not even Mr. Henderson knows and it may be the one advantage we still hold that he doesn’t know about. We’re pretty sure he suspects we have hidden resources but we are also pretty sure that he does too. At the moment he hasn’t made an issue of anything but Rand and I feel we are entitled to some privacy and don’t need to run to him for every little thing. We could probably make a killing peddling the information in exchange for stuff; I think that Rand is waiting to talk to Bill about what we’ve been hearing on the radio before trying to decide what, if anything, to do with it.

Speaking of Bill and Missy, Bill is on the mend but Brendon says his age is starting to catch up with him with all the injuries he has suffered over the few months. I know he is several years older than Missy but I never really asked. I guess to Brendon anyone older than their twenties is “older.” I hope I have more sense than that. I like Bill and Missy well enough but I’m just as fine keeping them at arms length. I mean … well, I’m not sure what I mean exactly. I guess I’m still holding a little bit of a grudge over them not standing up for Rand more. Rand thinks I’m overreacting. I’m trying not to hold onto stuff so much but I’ve learned to watch my back family or not; not because they out and out intend to be hurtful but because more often than not people just don’t think through the consequences of their actions. I might look impulsive but not as much as some people think. There is usually a reason behind my weirdness.

And I guess I’m thinking of other people because something has started up that is driving me up a wall. It’s called “visiting.” I guess they used to do it in the olden days. The ladies would go “visiting” on certain days of the week to each other’s houses. OK, first I’m not a real people person and the idea of sitting with a bunch of other females sipping tea and gossiping makes me cross eyed. Secondly, when you visit you are expected to return the hospitality. Oh my gosh, I just can’t handle the idea of having a bunch of people coming to the house. I know that’s kind of stupid but people – or so say some of them at the church services – are starting to remark on the fact that I never go “visiting.” I suppose I should make more of an effort to at least get over and see Momma O more but I just can’t imagine handling a bunch of people in our house.

What worries me even more is that maybe Rand has been holding back his own preferences to make me comfortable. I’d ask him but I’m not sure what I’ll do if he says that yeah, he’d like people to come visiting. I suppose I could give it a try but I hate the idea of doing it just to be polite.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 66B

December 13th – Managed to get most of the mending finished today, even the socks which seems to be a never ending task. I told Rand he needs to start trimming his toenails more if for no other reason than I’m going to run out of darning thread if he doesn’t.

Rand felt well enough that he wanted to try milking this morning. He gave me a scare when he rang the bell on the inside of the barn door; it’s usually reserved for emergencies. I go running out there with the rifle and he said, “Won’t need that just wanted you to see this.”

The boar was eating a rat … or what was left of a rat. I didn’t know they did that and Rand said, “Babe pigs, especially half wild boars, are omnivores. They’ll eat just about anything that doesn’t move out of their way fast enough. They eat fruit, roots, fungi, grasses, earthworms, snakes, and rodents. Don’t get between a pig and its dinner, they can get nasty. From now on, before you unhitch that gate I want you to look inside to make sure Taz isn’t munching on a snack. I know we’ve had some mice moving in, I didn’t know about the rats though.”

Rats! Oh yuck. I asked him if we could set traps and he said he had seen some live traps in Daddy’s stuff so he would try. “We’ll have to be careful though or we’ll catch one of your stupid hens in there instead.”

Rand wasn’t being mean; those hens really do act stupid sometimes. Frankly I’ll be glad when spring gets here and we finish building them a real hen house and secure chicken yard, I’m tired of hunting for their eggs all over creation. The few chicks we’ve gotten really aren’t chicks any more … the one little rooster we had didn’t survive long enough to get all his feathers in, we’re not sure what happened … and the whole lot of them make an awful mess all over the barn. Not to mention Pretty Boy is kind of territorial and being cooped up (no pun intended) in the barn with all the other animals just makes him cranky. He’ll still let me pet him but he’s taken to flying at everyone else. Even Rand had to bat him down once but Pretty Boy hasn’t tried to take on Rand since. Fraidy and Woofer aren’t bothered by Pretty Boy either but they seem to sense he needs lots of personal space and leave him strictly alone.

Rand also said he worried about trapping too many of the rats and mice because that is what Fraidy eats. If we take all of her prey she might start looking at the chickens as more than feathered neighbors. Woofer too for that matter; so far I’ve never had any problems with him getting into the nests or chasing the birds but there was a few times he sure looked tempted. If the weather holds, tomorrow I’m going to give Woofer and Fraidy baths and let them stay in the house at night; but not until they’ve got some of the barnyard stink off of them.


December 14th – Thank goodness it was my left hand or I would be in trouble. Thank goodness I was wearing heavy leather gloves or something most likely would have been broken. Rand is really upset. I guess I’m better off explaining than just sputtering around about it.

Rand has finally decided that right now he doesn’t want the extra work of breeding and raising horses. The extra feed we would need is a problem. Frankly the grain crops don’t look so good right now. He says that later on in the year he’ll take our burros … the ones that came in carrying the stuff that Ram sent and that we apparently get to keep … and breed them for mules. The mules won’t be as big as Bud and Lou but they’ll still be mules with all those benefits. So anyway, a man that Ron Harbinger knows was looking for a mare for breeding stock. Rand took the mare out of the corral and had her walking in the yard and I was brushing out Lou. Then Rand asked me to put some oats in Hatchet’s nose bag.

I’ve done it I don’t know how many times without problems. Feeding time is about the only time Hatchet doesn’t give me some type of grief. Well, this time something really set him off and I’m still not sure what. I put the oats in the bag, put it where he can get at it, turn to go … I’m not even really near him at this point. He comes zinging over to the fence, leans his head out and snap! He has me on the outside of my left hand. It was the shock that caused me to scream and then the pain set in.

I didn’t know what I was doing but instinctively I wanted Hatchet to let go so I popped him on his muzzle and yelled, “Stop!” Amazingly he did. In fact he acted like I had hurt his feelings. Rand isn’t sure if he was playing or if he was frustrated or just what. Horses play rough with one another and Hatchet may not see me as a dominate mare. I’m not partial to the idea of being thought of as a mare one way or the other but I guess it might make a difference if you are a horse.

All I do know is that I was down on the ground and cradling my hand by the time Rand got there and Hatchet was on the other side of the corral nursing a stinging nose. I didn’t box him but I wasn’t exactly as gentle as I could have been. I’ll admit it. It hurt and I was leaking tears. The man, Mr. Houchens, said to bring me up to the porch and let him take a look since he was unfortunately familiar with horse bites having been a breeder for many years.

They took the glove off and my hand was already turning a nasty shade of red and purple, but thankfully no broken skin.

“No broken skin which is a good thing. Don’t think the horse really meant to do much more than nip you. If he’d meant to really bite you he would have and you could have lost a finger gloves or no gloves. Knew of a man who lost his nose to a horse. I don’t think you’ve got anything broken but it is hard to tell with them little bones like that. Hard for me to check, your hands are a bit on the small side and is already swelling so we need to take care of that. Looks like you might have a blood blister forming too. That’s going to be some kind of uncomfortable for a while and is gonna get real ugly before it starts healing. If you can, have Ken take a look at it but I doubt you need a splint but what do I know?”

Basically the treatment has been to keep my hand elevated and to put a cold compress on it for twenty minutes and then let the skin rest for twenty and then put a new cold compress for another twenty minutes. I’ve had to keep doing that for a while to see if I could keep the swelling to a minimum. I’ve also been eating Tylenol but it hasn’t been helping much. Between the fevers and everything else we’ve gone through one of the really big bottles of acetaminophen and there isn’t any more where that’s coming from as far as I know so tomorrow I’m going to dig out Momma’s book to see if I can find a herbal pain killer that I can throw together to save for sickness and fevers.

Mr. Houchens and Rand came to an agreement and he left and came back with his payment (a couple of chickens, some garden seeds, and an old hay baler that was in pieces) and then took the mare away leaving us with things we needed only I was having a hard time not letting Rand see how bad I was hurting. He was really mad at Hatchet but I swear, even though the beast bit me I didn’t want to get him in trouble. Rand spent the rest of the afternoon putting Hatchet through his paces. I don’t know who was more tired, my husband or the horse. The raw place on Rand’s back that we still have to keep dressed was irritated from all the sweating that was done.

Mr. Houchens saw Pastor Ken out on his rounds and let him know about my hand. He stopped by our place before heading home for the night and said it was far from the worst horse bite he had seen and the location is what made it so painful. Nothing was grinding when he messed with my hand but I got nauseous and the shakes just from delayed reaction. Pastor Ken was a little surprised by this which made me irritable. I asked him, “Who do I look like Wonder Woman?”

His answer wasn’t exactly comforting. “Well, you do tend to give that impression on occasion.” Great, just another continuation of what I went through on Sunday. One of these days that whole impression thing is going to get me into some serious trouble I’ve no doubt.

After Ken left I thought about what had happened. I wasn’t really angry at Hatchet, he’s just an animal though if he tries something like that again I might change my mind, but by the end of the day I was irritable that I couldn’t get all my to do list finished. Today was supposed to be cleaning day. It’s not like the house is really messy or anything. Rand isn’t your typical guy, thank goodness, having learned to pick up after himself after getting a dose of a couple of pigpen roommates at college. But, there are all those things that make a house feel really clean that didn’t get done … taking the rugs outside and beating the dirt out of them, dusting, freshening and plumping chairs and sofas, scrubbing the one bathroom we use, deep cleaning the kitchen, etc. I know I was being anal about it but it is stuck in my head that I didn’t get to clean the way I normally do and it is making me itch. Maybe I do have a bit of OCD in me on top of all my other anti-social issues.

OK, not going there. Don’t know why I am so down in the dumps. Maybe I’m having a hormonal moment or maybe I’m just stressed. On top of everything else Rand just mentioned that Brendon and Clyde told him that we were expected for Christmas Day. They are doing Christmas by couples this year and only the little kids are getting individual gifts.

Gifts. I hadn’t even thought about it at all. To be honest I hadn’t even thought about it for Rand for about a month but things have been so intense lately and my brain has been otherwise occupied. Time is slipping away from me and now I’m going to have to hurry up and finish the leather chaps that I measured out from a pair of Daddy’s chainsaw chaps. I made them longer in the leg of course and I’ve been using Momma’s leather stamps to add a few designs on them. I want them to be practical but I want them to look like I put some work into them too. Rand deserves something nice, he’s had it rough the last few weeks.

I’m going nuts trying to figure out what I can do for Christmas gifts. Gifts will be in the morning after chores and then around lunch time there is going to be a pig roast. They caught a wild boar over the weekend and have been fattening him up to save the domestic stock for slaughter.

And, if it is cold enough they may even start slaughtering later that day. Can things possibly get any more hectic? Rand started telling me about what we would likely need to do this year since there wouldn’t be any refrigeration and I nearly had a panic attack. It’s … it’s … I don’t know what it is since I’ve already used the adjectives crazy and insane. I’ve pulled out all of our unused jars and I’m getting them cleaned up and making sure they all have rings and seals. Makes me wish that Ram could pull some of that stuff out of his magic hat; I’ve still got a couple of cases of seals – Thank You Momma – but not even that is going to last forever the way we use them. We’ll be OK for the coming year but I’ve already told Rand that we are going to have to start drying a lot more of the produce.

Rand asked me to start thinking really hard about what I would need to keep food on the table … from the ground onward. He’s going to do the same thing for all of the other tasks around our place. I think the grain underperforming has got him worried. I’m worried to. What will we do for bread flour after what we have in the #10 cans and the barrels is gone? And what will the animals eat if we can get enough even for their feed?


December 15th – Change in plans. Brendon came by and said that all the females in the area are going as crazy about things as I am. Some of the older folks got together and came up with a different idea. Instead of adults getting gifts there is going to be a church service, but you have to sign up ahead of time. There will be a big dinner and the Christmas tree from City Hall is going to be set up and gifts for all the kids that have been signed up will be hung on the tree like ornaments. Most of the gifts will likely be practical … socks, scarves, gloves, hats, suspenders … but there will be some non-practical things as well like rag dolls, wooden toys, and the like.

When I heard what was up I asked if Rand minded if I went to see Momma O. He was strangely happy for me to go … I guess he worries that I don’t get out more … and told me to take all the time I wanted. He knew I’d be back well before dinner time and it wasn’t like I was getting much baking done with my hand the way it was; I couldn’t kneed the bread. The swelling has gone down – I followed Momma’s instructions for making arnica oil and used it as a topical treatment – but I still have to be careful not to hit my hand or it makes me want to do the two-step and say a few words I shouldn’t.

I used a stump to climb on Lou and when I got to “visit” Momma O. Sure enough she was sitting in the parlor and she had other visitors. She looked like she was holding court. I tried to turn tell, claiming I was too dirty to make a mess of Momma O’s nice, clean parlor but Hannah – that little stinker – put an old sheet over a chair so that I could sit down.

After hemming and hawing a bit I got down to why I came by. First I wanted to know if Brendon had gotten it right. He had. Then I wanted to know how Rand and I could help.

“Well, if that isn’t just like you,” Momma O exclaimed. “I knew we wouldn’t have to hunt you up to help. What do you think Willa? Food or gift?”

Willa was a middle aged woman growing old nearly before my eyes. “Hmmmm, we need both. We’ve only had the list out for a day and a half and we already have forty children signed up. We’ll like have closer to seventy once word gets out, maybe more. We really need some ideas for quick gifts for the little ones.”

I volunteered (yeah, I know, I know) that I have a treadle sewing machine and could make some aprons about of scrap material if someone else could dress them up since my hand wasn’t exactly in shape for fine sewing. I also asked them about making suspenders for boys or maybe belts. Or I could hook up Momma’s knitting machine to make quick scarves, knit caps, or baby blankets. All we needed was material and yarns.

“Don’t you worry about materials. The Ladies’ Auxiliary and the Quilting Guild had a bunch of stuff just boxed up that we’ve kept back. It is more a matter of willing hands. Pastor told us what happened to your hand child. Are you sure you are going to be able to do any work?”

I told her that the knitting machine was really basic and didn’t require much dexterity. It had been my grandmothers and I had both the “flat” and the “round” kinds. The flat one was long enough that I could crank out of a baby blanket a day if I put my mind to it. I had two round ones, the bigger of the two could make knit caps for children and the smaller one could make knit caps for babies or make scarves … I could crank out a couple an hour with that one. When they asked me how I was so sure I told them that Momma used to make stuff for the women’s shelter every Christmas when I was little.

I went home with a couple of bags of yarn tied over Lou’s saddle. I’ve already made a dozen baby knit caps and three scarves for small kids that are four feet long. Tomorrow I want to get baby blanket made and try to get a couple of bigger kid knit caps made.

While I worked at the knitting Rand and I talked some stuff over. We are going to donate some sorghum molasses so that the kids – both younger and older – can have a taffy pull. And we are going to make some popcorn balls too. We’ll add something to the main dish as well. According to the ladies at Momma O’s it is a cross between a burgoo and a mulligan stew and is usually a favorite at the big church picnics that were held when they were girls. Sounds good … and sensible; the meat is whatever the hunters bring in including venison, quail, squirrel, etc. and whatever veggies are the most abundant in the winter larder that people can spare. It gets cooked for a whole day in huge barrel sized tubs and you generally eat it with cornbread. Sure made me hungry just hearing about it.

I’ve got to do some laundry tomorrow but come heck or high water but I need to work on Rand’s gift too. After that I’ll get going on the other stuff. On Sunday I’m going to turn whatever I have come up with to Momma O and see what she has to say. For now I’m going to down a couple of more Tylenol then I’m going to bed. Rand has got the bed warmed up so the covers shouldn’t make my legs ache quite as bad as they have been.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 67

December 17th – My hand hurt too much to write yesterday but it isn’t quite as bad today. Yesterday was laundry and sewing and making a couple of loaves of Pineapple Loaf so that I wouldn’t have to cook breakfast this morning. I like to have breakfast baked ahead on church mornings; it saves me time and I’m not as rushed. And if I’m not as rushed then I’m not as grumpy. And if I’m not as grumpy … well, it’s all good and everyone is happy.

The sewing was just basically finishing up the knitting projects that Momma O and the other ladies had assigned to me. I’m right handed so running the knitting machines really didn’t hurt but making those stupid pompoms for the tops of the knit caps sure did; so did the tassels on the ends of the baby blankets. Let me tell you, there sure are a lot of babies. I guess like my Memaw always said, “You play you pay.” It just seems like people would use a little more caution … or maybe they’ve forgotten how if they ever knew. Accidents are gonna happen, but not all of the folks were married when the babies got made from what I understand. Those aren’t accidents, that is just out and out getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

Yesterday’s breakfast was biscuits with busted down gravy. Gosh I hadn’t thought of calling it that for a long time. It was funny, well funny to me anyway. For some reason it just came out of my mouth when I was putting it on the table. Rand gave me the strangest look and then for absolutely no reason I got the giggles. Rand started laughing because I was laughing. I finally stopped and told him it had been one of my grandfather’s favorite breakfast foods. Fried eggs, biscuits, and busted down gravy. The gravy is basically white gravy with ground and browned sausage mixed in. If you like it hot you can use hot sausage and add ground pepper but spicy doesn’t do me a bit of good lately so I fixed my plate and then let Rand have the pepper mill so he could add as much as he wanted.

After breakfast I did the dishes up quick while Rand took care of the cows and letting the animals out to their pens or pastures. I got the first load of clothes soaking while I finished up another baby blanket. Wound up having to take about six inches undone when I noticed a dropped stitch. Man was that aggravating. I had just gotten back to where I had started when I had to put the blanket aside and stomp and rinse the load of underthings. The load was bigger than normal because of the long johns that were mixed in.

I loaded the basket and stepped outside to find Rand laid flat out on the front porch doubled up. I just about dumped the basket of clean clothes to rush over but he stopped me first and told me he was OK but pointed off towards the barn and started laughing again. I looked but I couldn’t see what was so funny. Eventually he caught his breath and said, “You know that rooster of yours is something else.”

“Why? What has he done this time? Tried to take on the cow?” I asked, remembering that Pretty Boy sometimes didn’t seem to understand his size could be a hindrance to his ego.

“No. Better. You know them hens we got in the trade?”

“Yeah, the ones you called Jersey Giants ‘cause they’re so lar … oh. Oh no, he did not. That’s not … I mean … I know he courts the Rhode Island Reds we have but surely … Rand! He’s too little. He didn’t really try to … ?”

“Try?! That’s some rooster you’ve got there!!” and he fell over laughing again.

About that time one of the grey Jersey Giants came out of the barn … with Pretty Boy on her … I swear, who would have thought that a midget poultry could be embarrassing. The Jersey Giant just completely ignored him while he tried to … well, you can imagine what he was trying to do. This has to go down as yet another example of God’s sense of humor.

The day just went on and on from there; putting laundry to soak and picking up a knitting project, then setting whatever project I was working on aside so I could rinse and hang that load out. Eventually the laundry was finished and I was sick of looking at the needles on the knitting machine going round and round and up and down.

It is never a good idea to go passed your tolerance level when sewing or you are going to start making stupid mistakes so I decided it was time to work on the Pineapple Loaf. I started by stirring one-half teaspoon vinegar into one-half cup of milk and letting it stand for a few minutes while I combined the dry ingredients. You take two cups of sifted flour, two cups of yellow cornmeal, one teaspoon of baking powder, one teaspoon of baking soda, and one teaspoon of salt and mix them together into a big bowl. By that time the vinegar milk is ready and you add two tablespoons of melted butter and then mix the liquids into the dry ingredients; do it gradually or you wind up with too many lumps. Next take one and a half cups of undrained crushed pineapple and add one half cup of molasses and then stir that really gross looking mess into the batter. Pour the batter into a greased loaf pan and bake in a 350 degree F oven for 35 to 40 minutes.

Rand went hunting for a little while but he came back empty handed and discouraged. “Good thing we are growing our meat because I think people are overhunting the area, trying to keep food on the table. I haven’t even seen too many squirrels, have you?”

I told him did the ones out in the garden patch count? “I keep chasing them out because I don’t want them burying their stupid acorns out in the rows for me to have to fight as sprouts in the next garden.”

“Instead of chasing them I’m going to try setting up some of those traps we used in the barn. I’ll see if Mr. Coffey has any good ideas for snares.”

Guess it is a good thing that we both like our veggies. Dinner was thick homemade vegetable soup and homemade cornbread. Rand said he had some work to do and it gave me a chance to escape to the sewing room to try and get the last bit of sewing done on his chaps. I had already punched all of the holes using a hammer and awl so all I was doing was threading things together.

We both went to bed tired and sore … my hand and Rand where he was finally returning to all of his labors … but woke up in a pretty good mood. Since I didn’t have to cook breakfast I could help with before-Church chores and we were able to load the wagon and be on our way quickly this morning.

Pastor Ken preached a good sermon. I could tell because whatever he was saying people were nodding and smiling and the Amen pews were really going; but, my mind just couldn’t settle enough to concentrate. All the things that I need to do kept running through my head and making sure that I had all the knitting projects and supplies to give back to Momma O.

We stood to sing the Doxology and Invitation before I even realized it and then there was a bunch of handshaking and greeting which gave me as good an excuse as any to escape over to Momma O and tell her what I had brought.

“My lands girl! You telling me you really did finish all of that?! Well bless us all, maybe we will be able to get everything finished in time. Mary Lou, woohoo, Mary Lou! You’ll never believe it … “

Mary Lou is Mrs. Withrow to everyone but her husband and her “bosom bows.” She looks like a good puff of wind would blow her frail body down the street but she’s even more tenacious than Momma O … and she has at least a decade of years on her as well. If it is possible to be scared of a little old lady that’s exactly what she does to me. Her robin’s egg blue eyes can look a hole right through you and that is exactly what she did as soon as Momma O showed her what I’d brought.

“Well dear, we may just need to induct you into the Ladies’ Auxiliary though you are a might young for it. We always need willing hands and a nimble mind. That suggestion for suspenders has been a big hit with the other ladies who have all grown more than tired of watching their children and men flashing their undies and hitching up their pants where everyone has lost so much weight or haven’t been able to replace their worn clothes with the right sizes.”

I beat feet out of there as quick as I could and still be polite. That’s all I need is some of those ladies starting to have expectations of me or starting to organize my life and my time. I know they are trying to be nice but I have enough on my plate as it is and the idea of suddenly becoming parts of some ladies’ society puts a chill in my blood. What do I know about that sort of stuff?!

I managed to put the finishing touches on Rand’s chaps today. I’ve been lucky he’s been working and organizing out in the barn so much. I was so happy about getting that finished that I made a sorghum pie for dessert.

You make yourself a pie crust and lay it in a nine-inch pie pan. Then in a mixing bowl you take five eggs, one-third cup of white sugar, and one and one-quarter cups of sorghum molasses and mix it all together. Pour the resulting slurry into the pie crust and bake it in a preheated oven at 350 degrees F for 35 to 40 minutes. The pie will set a bit as it cools and then you can whip up some sweetened heavy cream to top each slice with if you have a mind to … and I did since I had enough butter for quite some time.

After dinner and the nightly kitchen clean up Rand and I sat down and did some talking as we listened to the occasional broadcast from the radio in the background. We have a lot to do right after Christmas; no holiday break for us. We need to be ready to start butchering as soon as we get a cold snap and hope it lasts long enough to get it done all in one shot. This means that we need to have everything prepped and ready to go at the first sign of a frost or freeze. Tomorrow Brendon is coming over and they guys are going to take down a tree for us to replace the hardwood that is coming out of our seasoned pile.

I’ve been pulling and prepping all of my jars but Rand suggested … more like warned me politely … not to show my full hand as far as the jar situation because he thinks there will be non-family at the butchering.

“Don’t get me wrong Babe, they are nice people but these days it just makes more sense to hold a little back so that no one can take everything you have. On the other hand you’re probably the last person I need to tell this to.”

“Rand, don’t you worry that it looks like we don’t trust your family?”

He got a studied look on his face and then said, “Let’s just say that I trust them but I also know them well enough that I don’t want to have to worry about someone forgetting and accidentally taking advantage of us in all the hullabaloo that goes on during butchering time.”


December 18th – All outdoor work was rained out today. Rand was worse that a cat on a hot tin roof until I suggested he help me to do some reorganizing and cleaning. Guy like he suddenly realized he needed to clean all the guns and organize and inventory the remaining ammo and all sorts of other things that didn’t involve mops, brooms, and buckets. That’s fine, it kept him out from underfoot and I didn’t have to create make-work for him.

I knew I had been missing something but I hadn’t realized what it was until after Rand figured out a way to charge his old iPod. Music. I’ll hum and sing when no one is around but that’s about it. I’ve caught Rand whistling out in the barn. We sing hymns at the church services but it is without an instrument after the piano lost some wires.

“Oh Rand … it’s … it’s been so long.”

“Yeah. I was looking for an old t-shirt to use as an oil cloth. And there it was. I’d even forgotten about throwing it in that box. I’ve got a little set of speakers for it around here somewhere. If I can figure out how to charge that … well, if you want, we can listen to it sometimes.”

We both sat and listened to it for about fifteen minutes and then for some stupid reason I haven’t figured out I just started crying. Rand didn’t laugh or think I was crazy or anything like that. He held me until I was over it. And then we both just got up and got back to work.

There’s always work. When Rand was sick we managed to stick to two meals a day which made things easier … hearty breakfast and then we would have what Momma used to call “lupper” … lunch/supper … with a smaller snack or warm milk at night before I turned down the stove for the night. Now that Rand is back working and trying to get up to full steam he is hungry all the time although he hasn’t complained. I can see it in his eyes. My Memaw would have said Rand was born with a hollow leg … personally I think it is two hollow legs.

For breakfast this morning I started using up that cream of wheat that Rand and I found in the bed hide-a-way space. But I just can’t choke that stuff down plain so I used it to replace cornmeal and flour in some recipes. For instance this morning I made a ham and cheese frittata that used cream of wheat as the “crust.”

Stir together one-half cup cream of wheat, one and one-half cups boiling water and let it stand five minutes. Then add six beaten eggs to the cream of wheat mixture. Next melt a tablespoon of butter and add one diced onion, one diced green pepper and one diced red bell pepper and sauté about five minutes. Then to the sauté pan add one cup diced ham and mix everything up gently. Once you have that done, gently pour the cream of wheat mixture over the veggie stuff in the pan so that it covers everything. Sprinkle some cheese over that … I used some queso blanco I had made this morning … and cook over medium heat for five minutes until the edges begin to firm up. Then you put the skillet in the oven for ten minutes at 450 degrees F.

When your frittata is finished, take it out of the oven and carefully turn it over onto a serving platter so that the cream of wheat “crust” is now on the bottom. Rand really liked his. Probably would have gone better with some sour cream as a garnish but hey, you go with what you have and I hadn’t opened the new can of powdered sour cream yet.

Lunch was venison chili straight out of the jar that I had canned it in. Dinner was the leftovers from breakfast and lunch plus I made a cinnamon rice pudding. I felt full to bursting but I think Rand could have eaten more. I swear I don’t know where he puts it sometimes.

We’ll be heading off to bed pretty soon. I’m glad. Despite being cooped up inside all day I still worked my tail feathers off. Rand did his thing as I said. I spot checked my inventory and added a few things to the list of “wants” and “needs” that we have started. Among the items on that list is white sugar, wheat or wheat flour, and potatoes.

The potatoes might be a pipe dream. Anyone in the area that has them are saving them for their spring gardens and who knows how we are going to get more seed potatoes until those people are willing to part with a few. It might be a very long time before I see a fresh potato.


December 20th – Rand got another deer today. And Hoss and Bradley brought by some alligator tail by and looked like they wanted to stay a while and talk. I grinned behind their backs at the look on Rand’s face and asked everyone how Gator and Ham Soup sounded for lunch.

“Now see there? I tol’ you Kiri’d know what to do wid it. What does Marsha’s ol’ man know about it anyway?” Hoss said brightly.

Uh oh. Marsha was the widow that Hoss had been courting. Apparently Marsha’s father wasn’t fond of the match and may have finally managed to run Hoss off for good. It had to be something along those lines. No one with any common sense turns down food these days.

And it wasn’t like I was unfamiliar with cooking gator. We’d get it in the diner every so often and it was a big hit. You do need to know what you are doing so that it doesn’t taste too fishy or gamey but even with that it is easier than cooking some wild stuff like raccoon and opossum where you have to be wary of cutting the glands out correctly or you’ll ruin all of the meat. And alligator tail is actually just about the only meat on the gator worth messing with anyway. You just chop it up and cook it and then add it to your other soup ingredients and cook everything even further until your beans are tender. Wasn’t half bad if I do say so myself even if I did get a major case of heartburn afterwards.


December 21st – Oooooo I could just spit. I was in the middle of journaling last night when someone started banging on the front door. Rand grabbed his gun and then Brendon calls out.

“Yo! Rand … dad says that it is time and that you need to come on over if you are coming!! Y’all still awake in there?!”

Crud. Double crud. Triple, quadruple crud. The temperature had been dropping since yesterday morning but I didn’t really think that it was cold enough that we’d have to start butchering. What a time to start this stuff. The Christmas celebration just a couple of days away and I still have baking and other stuff to do. Uncle George’s timing couldn’t have been worse but frankly I’m too tired to do much more than make a token complaint here in my journal.

It’s even worse for Rand. He left last night and told me not to come until after chores this morning. I so did not sleep very well. He didn’t get to sleep at all.

But we are home now and he is already asleep, only taking the time to feed the animals before crawling into bed with a mumbled apology. I’m still up baking and trying to heat some of the damp out of the house while I put away the jars of stuff that has already been canned.

Four hogs and two cows were butchered over the last twenty-four hours. That’s a lot of meat, but by the time it was divided up between all of the participating families and cooked down for canning and what have you we didn’t bring home nearly as much as I thought we were going to. But there is tomorrow and we’ve got another six hogs and three cows to butcher and we might also try and do some goats if we can hurry things up. Uncle George and some of the other older folks said butchering isn’t just about how many animals you’ve got to do but how long the weather holds cold to let you do it.

Since I’m still waiting on my bread to do its second rising before I put it to bake I’ll describe how each hog is butchered. First, you are merciful and kill the hog as quickly as possible. The preferred method around here is a .22 straight to the front of brain. While the hog is still kicking … it’s already dead, it just doesn’t realize it yet … it is strung up by its hind legs and a big butcher knife is used to slit the throat. You have to do this part quick to bleed the animal out. If the blood coagulates in the meat you’ve ruined everything.

While the hog is bleeding out, or even before, you are preparing a huge tub like thing by filling it with very hot water. Uncle George’s set up had the tub raised above a bed of hot coals. You want the water scalding hot but you don’t really want to boil the pig as in cooking it. What you are doing is scalding the pig so that it can be loosen the hair on the hog.

When the hog is bled out, Uncle George ran a wire through the hogs head to form a large ring. Not through the meat but through the bone and gristle. This is then attached to a hook that is on a pulley system that allows the hog to be dipped into the scalding water.

Next comes the scraping part. Scraping a hog is not hard; it’s just weird if you’ve never done it before. After lifting the hog from the water you start pulling the hair out with your hands and scraping with a broad-bladed knife. Since you do not skin a hog you must be sure to get all the hair off. Hold your knife in both hands so that the blade is against the skin and scrape. It’s a little like shaving with a dull razor. If the hair is stubborn about coming off, dip the hog in the water or pour hot water over especially bad places.

Next comes the gross and messy part. You cut on the hog’s head. You begin by cutting through the flesh on the neck all the way around the bone and then twisting the neck until the bone breaks. Put the head in a kettle with a little water in it. The head can be used to make many things such as mincemeat, headcheese, pickled ears, and the jowls can be cured. Even the brains and tongue can be used for food. Nothing will be wasted although I’m not too sure about eating pickled ears or pig’s feet. Daddy did, and really liked pig’s feet, but from what I remember they look too much like what they used to be. I’d have to be pretty doggone hungry before I could nibble on something like that.

The next step is to clean the hog insides. The carcass needs to be opened up all the way down. With the hog hanging by the hind legs start at the top at the back center and cut all the way through the skin down to the hind bone. Then make a shallow cut the rest of the way down the hog so not to cut into the intestines. Be sure to cut around the end of the intestines.

With an ax cut the hind bone in half. This has to be done in order to split the hog in half for cutting up. Tie off the end of the intestines with a piece of string. Now cut the breastbone. This is the hardest part because you must be careful not to cut the intestines when cutting the breastbone with a knife. Cut all the way through the skin and find the breastbone and cut it. Uncle George was the only one to do that part because it took a practiced hand.

Next the intestines come out. Open the stomach entirely and put the intestines into a large wash tub. The intestines are saved because of the fat on them and to make sausage casings with. They don’t smell like I thought they would but one of the ladies there said it was because they were tied off at both ends so nothing of the … err, smelly stuff … leaked out to be smelled.

The cutting of the meat is next. The carcass was swung to the big butcher table and laid it on its back with the skin against the table so that it splits open. It looked like a giant dissection experiment for biology class.

First to be cut is the backbone which has to be cut apart from the rest of the meat. You do this by chopping with an ax down the length of the backbone on both sides where the ribs join it. The backbone and the tenderloin together make would pork chops, but Uncle George didn’t cut it that way. He likes to keep them separate. The backbone has meat on it as good as the tenderloin, so he cuts it up and boils it like stew meat, but with the bone still with it. We did that and canned a bunch of quarts or pork stew.

The way to make pork chops is to saw down the center of the backbone and cut off the extra rib ends about five inches from the backbone. Sawing the backbone is done while the hog is still hanging from the pulley. If there were freezers still available Uncle George said he’d have done it but he considered it a waste of meat right now since we’d have to can or cure to preserve everything.

The leaf lard came next. It is a thin layer of pure fat that is right against the ribs. This lard can be pulled out easily by hand. This lard was put in a pan along with the other fat that was cut off.

Ribs aren't too hard to cut out. They are a large slab on both sides of the backbone. To cut them out you start from the backbone and cut to the outside. Put your knife just under the ribs and cut all the way under them; continue this until you have cut them out completely. Fresh pork ribs is what we ate for dinner although some of them were deboned and canned for later use.

The tenderloin, like the leaf lard, can be pulled out of the hog. In comparison to the other cuts of meat it is a small portion of the hog, stretching along the sides of the backbone. It is also the best portion of a hog. It is only about five inches thick and is what people used to pay an arm and a leg for at the grocery store.

What remains to cut now are the hams, sides and shoulders. Cut straight across to cut out the sides or bacon. Trim the bacon to get off the excess fat. The hams and shoulders are the last pieces of meat to be cut. Just cut at the knee joint to cut off the feet and you're done cutting up the meat. Ham and shoulders are cut and cured alike
After the shoulders, ribs, hams, jowls and sides have been trimmed, the fat is used for lard, and meat which is not used for anything else is used for sausage. Many people put the heart, tongue and spleen in the sausage. You can cut the tenderloin and shoulder for sausage as well but Rand and I wanted all of our hams and shoulders whole and I wanted the tenderloin for canning.

To prepare the meat for the sausage mill, it must be cut into pieces small enough to fit into the mill easily. Mostly lean meat is used for sausage, but on a hog many of the scraps are partly lean and partly fat, like bacon. This is all put into the sausage. Too much fat will make cooked sausage shrink up and leave mostly grease in the pan. According to Uncle George, who as teaching as well as doing the butchering, good sausage has just enough fat to make it juicy. I already knew that from being on the farm when I was little and because we made our own sausage at the diner.

A sausage mill grinds the meat into sausage. It looks like hamburger does when it comes out. The mill is a small hand operated machine with a small hopper at the top into which the pieces of meat and fat are pushed a few at a time. There is a crank located on the side of the mill which when turned by hand, turns an auger inside of the mill, forcing the meat through knives and out through a chute located on the front of the mill. When grinding sausage, alternating putting in lean and fatty meat will help in mixing the sausage to more uniform consistency. The ground up meat drops into a pan under the mill.

While some folks handled milling the pork into sausage, others started making the lard. Lard is made from intestinal fat, leaf fat, and scraps of fat from the butchered hog that are trimmed off from different cuts of meat as it is butchered. The intestines are covered with a layer of fat stretching the entire length of them. After removing the intestines from the carcass, strip them of all their fat with knives, being careful not to pierce them. The best fat for lard is the leaf lard that comes from the inside of the ribs but it isn’t enough so you add the less desirable pieces as well.

After enough fat was gathered from the cutting table, it was taken to a little lean to for cooking. The fat was first cut it into small cubes with sharp knives. While that was happening the lard kettle was readied. The kettle has to be about 4 inches off of the ground to allow room for the fire wood. Put a small amount of water in the kettle to keep fat from sticking when you first put it in before any grease has cooked out. Build a fire under the kettle to get the kettle hot before fat is put into it. As the fat is diced, it is dumped it into the kettle. What little water is left will boil out. Stir constantly with a stick or a paddle. As the fat gets hot, it melts down into liquid grease. Stir it constantly to keep the fat from burning. Keep the fire low while in this process because the lard, if a flame is touched to it, it will catch fire and too hot a fire will cause the lard to be brown when it hardens.

Brown lard will get rancid more quickly. You keep dumping more fat in the kettle and dipping out grease as it cooks out of the fat until you have put in all the fat that you have. You keep cooking the lard until all the fat is extracted.
Low heat directed to the fatty tissues will melt the fat, leaving the cell structure and the rind. This residue will cook in the hot fat and float on the top of the grease. These are called cracklings.

You can tell when the lard is done by the cracklings floating at the top. The fat that you pour into the kettle floats also but the fat is white until it is melted down to just the cracklings. So you can tell when you're done when everything floating at the top is brown.

Dip the lard out of the kettle with a large dipper or sauce pan and pour through a straining pan and a cloth into a lard stand or container that can hold very hot liquids. Cover the lard can and let it cool and harden. The lard is stored in lard cans and I’m told will keep all year. I’ll take their word for it but I’ll also keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn’t go rancid. Rand said he’ll try and turn an area of the lower cabinets into a lard cooler somehow.

The cracklings get caught in the straining pan and when they cook down they make good munching, like potato chips or corn chips. They have a nutty, crisp brown taste. I remember my grandmother putting them into cornbread and then my uncle – Momma’s brother – would crumble a slice of crackling cornbread into a glass of buttermilk and eat the whole mess with a spoon. Each to his own. I prefer to keep my food and drink separate thank you very much.

Now the butchering is all well and good but we can’t keep everything fresh and it isn’t practical to try and can everything either so the next step was to start the curing process. Curing meat starts by putting the meat on a table in the smoke-house. You must wait until the body heat of the hog has left the meat before you apply the salt. It only takes a few hours for the heat to leave in cold weather which is why it is so important to take advantage of the really cold snaps here in the south.

In the afternoon after butchering when the heat has left the meat, use two parts sugar cure to one part table salt and rub the mixture into the skin side of the meat. Then turn it over and rub the other side. The salt mixture should cover the meat entirely, and should be a thin layer about 1/8 inch thick. It usually takes about a pound to a pound and a half of salt to ten pounds of meat. Uncle George has a lot of this type of thing on hand because he had a food license for preserving meat for resale to the public. The meat has to sit then for about two or three weeks in cold weather to take the salt. When cured, wash the excess salt off of the meat and hang or store. It should then be properly cured.

According to one of the other men there, before sugar cure was available on the market, the old-timers used just plain table salt to cure the meat and then smoked it. Many times the meat wound up tasting very salty because of curing too long and had to be soaked to get out some of the salt. The sugar cure gives a simulated smoke taste. When it came on the market, most people stopped smoking their meat.

After the salt cure the meat will get hung by wire to the joists in the smoke-house. Meat is hung the same way it is on the animal, sides hung with the thickest part up and joints, such as hams and shoulders, also hung with the thick side up. The part the hog stood on is still down. That natural position keeps the grease from dripping out when it gets warm. If you hang it upside down it will lose all the grease. The wires are put in by cutting a small slip in the hide and slipping the wires through the slit. The shoulders and hams only need one wire at the top of the joint, but the sides need two, one at each end of the thick side.

After the wires get inserted and the meat gets hung in the smoke-house, it will be time to build the fire. The fire is built in an iron kettle. The kettle will be put in the smokehouse directly under the meat being smoked. The best type of wood, and almost the only kind used, is hickory. According to the ladies I was helping, hickory smoke has a very pleasant smell and adds a desirable flavor to the meat. Most people use wood chips. If hickory isn’t available, sassafras can be used to give a different flavor.

The way this lady explained how it was done when she was little is they would put the chips in a kettle on a bed of ashes and set the wood on fire. When the fire was burning well, they took ashes and smothered the fire so that only smoke came out of the kettle, because the flavor was not in the fire itself, but in the smoke. Since many smokehouses were not tight, walls were sometimes papered temporarily to hold in the smoke as much as possible to reduce the smoking time. The kettle was placed directly under the meat that was being smoked. For instance, the kettle would be placed under the hams. The fire would be tended until the hams would be brown. It usually took two or three days for the meat to turn brown. When the hams turned brown, the kettle would be moved under the sides. In the Winter, the farmer might have three or four hogs in the smokehouse at the same time, depending on the size of his family.

When all the meat was smoked some people just let it hang in the smoke-house, while others took it down, wrapped it carefully and packed it in boxes. Whatever the farmer did with the meat, he had enough to last through the summer and into the next winter when it would be cold enough to butcher again.

I’m not sure what Rand and I are going to do. We haven’t gotten that far yet. I do know that Rand intends on curing the meats at Uncle George’s place and then bringing it back to ours to hang in our own smoke houses.

The beef was butchered the same way but different and frankly I’m just too tired to write it down. Not to mention that my bread is ready to bake and I need to get to it. Who knows what kind of stuff I’m going to be getting up to tomorrow.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 68

December 23rd – Spent the last two days at the Crenshaws’ place. I’m so tired, but it is a … good kind of tired? Is there really such a thing as a good kind of tired? Well if there is a “good” tired that is what I am, at least now after the ruckus of yesterday came to an end. Today was much better. And no butchering tomorrow or the next day to give what we’ve already done time to cure so that it can be hung in the smokehouse and cured. After that, well if the cold holds we’ll be back at it because … well, better to start at the beginning.

Yesterday morning we were up before the chickens … before anything really should be up and moving if you want my opinion. We had to use the olive oil lanterns that I made out of some old, cracked mason jars to see to take care of the animals who weren’t exactly thrilled to be woken up, especially the cows who complained the entire time we were milking them. Putting our backs and minds into it we finished up as quickly as we could and then headed out. It wasn’t even five o’clock yet and I fed Rand his breakfast on the wagon seat while he drove.

It was pitch dark except for the two wagon lanterns that shed light just far enough down the road so that the mules could see where they were putting their hooves and so Rand wouldn’t drive us off the road. And quiet; the only sound came from the creaking of the wagon, the harnesses, and Hatchet’s occasional complaints about being tied to the tailgate by his lead string.

“Shut up horse. You are still on my list,” Rand muttered after a particularly caustic whinny. To me he said, “If there is time I’m going to have the boys ride him in the corral. Mick helped me train Hatchet and he knows all of his tricks. He’ll watch Tommy. I don’t know if there’ll be any other boys about or not but Mick and Tommy would be the only two that Hatchet would know enough to let them ride him. Uncle George can use it as a bribe to the boys to hurry up and finish their chores properly and it will give Hatchet the exercise he needs and the attention he is apparently looking for. Got any crumbs left in that napkin? Those were some good sausage biscuits.”

I’m glad I know how to make biscuits that make Rand happy, that’s something I can say I do well. I fed him mine because my stomach was starting to turn just thinking about what I was going to be doing. I’m not normally squeamish but I tell you, helping to clean the intestines to use for sausage casings just about did me in. I didn’t embarrass myself but it was close a time or two. Mrs. Withrow was there and she kept giving me the eye. She’s cool though. I think I might want to be something like her when I grow up. You might say she looks frail, but few are brave enough to say it to her face. She might be elderly … she’s got to be in her eighties easily … but she sure has a lot of hurry up and go left in her. She ran circles around some of us.

One of the things that I forgot to mention, and which I was kindly reminded of … much to my stomach’s tossing and turning … was the blood sausage Mrs. Withrow made to go with our late afternoon meal one of the days we were butchering. Trust me, I know that with the way things are we need to use everything we can all up, but it’s going to be a while until I can get my head around blood sausage. Maybe if I hadn’t been watching her make it I wouldn’t be having problems, but golly gee … snouts and tongues?!

First I had to help make up this stuff called Prague Powder #1. Basically this is a curing salt and it is a ration of 15 to 1 of table salt to sodium nitrate. That gives you a pound of the stuff to work with. Next you put four pounds of pig snouts and four pounds of pig tongues in a kettle and cook them for two hours. They didn’t smell half bad either … so long as you didn’t look IN the kettle. After they cooked for two hours you let them cool and then ground them up through a one-inch grinding plate; I pretended to be working on something else so I wouldn’t have to watch that part.

Once you have the snouts and tongues ground up you grind up a pound of pork skin through a one-eighth inch plate. Then when the meat was finally blessedly unrecognizable it was put into a mixer and mixed well with all the seasonings including one pint of blood, one medium onion that’s been diced up, two tablespoons ground black pepper, one teaspoon of thyme, one teaspoon of ground cloves, two level teaspoons of Prague Powder, one teaspoon of ground marjoram, one tablespoon of mace, and six tablespoons of regular salt. Once you have it all mixed evenly you stuff the mixture by hand into beef bungs (large diameter casings).

But wait, you aren’t finished. Next you have to cook the stuffed casings for approximately three and a half hours in 200 degree F water (hot, but not boiling). Mrs. Withrow used a skewer to see if the sausage were cooked sufficiently; by that she meant that they weren’t dripping blood. Gag! When they were finished they were removed to a container holding ice-cold water, cooling enough that sausage can be handled, and then the sausages were put into a cooler … a homemade one since the temperatures got down into the 20s that night … and they were served up the next day.

That wasn’t the only sausage we made … thank goodness … or I would have been going nuts. But Rand actually likes the blood sausage so I’m going to have to learn to fix it, but it won’t be this butchering season. I’ll do it next butchering season. Really. I will. I just need to convince myself to take one for “the Cause.” Rand being just about the only “cause” that I would actually learn to make blood sausage for.

The other sausages that we made were kind of like Slim Jims but not the really hot ones, although I guess we could have if we seasoned them different. The “Slim Jims” were made with beef rather than pork. The thing I learned about some of the smoked sausages is that you have to start with really cold pieces of meat which is another reason why you have to catch the cold weather when you can. You start with ten pounds of beef that is so cold it is partially frozen and then you grind it through a really fine plate. Then you add two level teaspoons of Prague Powder, four tablespoons of paprika, six tablespoons of ground mustard, one and one-half teaspoons of cayenne pepper, one teaspoon of black pepper, one teaspoon of white pepper, one teaspoon of ground celery seed, one tablespoon of mace, one teaspoon of granulated garlic, one tablespoon of granulated onion, two and half have ounces of regular salt, one-half teaspoon of marjoram, one quarter cup of molasses, and six ounces of powdered buttermilk. You mix the heck out of this because the seasonings must be completely even throughout the ground meat.

You stuff the “Slim Jim” blend into small diameter casings; Uncle George used commercial casings for this. Put the casings in a smoker preheated to 100 degrees F and let them smoke for eight hours. Then you have to increase the temperature to 165 degrees F until the internal temperature of the sausages reached 145 degrees F. Then you quickly remove from the smoker, give the sausages cold showers until they are room temperature and then leave them to dry. Once they were dry they could be cut into six to eight inch lengths or left whole until you were ready for them. Rand brought ours home in a loop and then had me cut them in five inch lengths and seal them up in airtight jars.

We made other types like summer sausage, salami, pepperoni, honey-cured bacon (that is still curing), something called Lonzino which is a dry cured pork loin (would have been expensive in the before time), bresola which is an Italian beef sausage, and a German sausage called bauerwurst.

We also brined some meat – mostly beef – for things like corned beef, pastrami, and tasso; but we also made bacon that way. Mrs. Withrow didn’t get onto me about wasting time writing all the recipes and directions down. In fact she asked me a couple of times if she was talking too fast. I told her, “No, ma’am. The lady that I used to work for was half Puerto Rican. You talk at a snail’s pace compared to Miss Belle and she expected you to get it the first time around or she would give you what for real quick.”

That surprised a laugh out of her and she told me, “Well child, I was raised by my German grandmother and having been on the end of that stick myself, I’d rather you get it right than worry about being fast until you do.” Maybe Mrs. Withrow isn’t quite so scary as I thought at first.

As busy as we were everything went pretty good day before yesterday. We accomplished a lot, at least I think we did. It helped to have so many hands helping out. But then again, that was a lot of animals being butchered; pigs, cows, goats, ducks, geese, chickens. We even had several deer, a couple of pheasants, four wild turkeys, three sheep, and another family brought strings of fish to trade for pork and beef. By the end of the day my brain felt like it had slipped into a Salvador Dali painting where nothing was as it seemed. Too much slaughter, too much blood, too much noise, too many people. By the time we left in our wagon the sun was going down and I was so tense that you could have bounced a penny off of me and made change.

“What’s wrong Babe? Someone upset you?”

“Sorry. Didn’t realize it showed. No, no one said anything. It was just … a bit much. Too noisy. Too many folks pressing up against me everywhere I turned.”

“If it bothers you that much, why don’t you stay ho … “

“No! I … I mean no. Sorry. Didn’t mean to yell. I’ve got issues Rand. You know I’ve got issues. But I don’t want them to hold us back. I dealt with it when I was in school. I’ll deal with it now. I’m just a little rusty. I won’t embarrass you.”

“Did I say anything about you embarrassing me?!” Rand asked a little peeved. “Trust me. I understand. I had to bite my tongue a few times with the family. I expect to be ordered around like a field hand by Uncle George but I don’t like it. I didn’t have to expect to put up with it from some of the others. Just because I haven’t been living at the farm for a while doesn’t mean I’ve completely forgotten what needs to be done.”

“That bad?”

“Like I said, I expected it from Uncle George. Par for the course. But when Jonathon and Clyde started in on me … I just don’t have the patience for it. I’m my own man with my own la … we have our own land and … Well, it just didn’t sit well with me.”

“Rand, you won’t hurt my feelings if you call it yours. I know what you mean and I don’t think you mean to cut me out or take advantage … OK, ‘nuff said. Next year maybe we can do all of this ourselves since we won’t be doing so much of it.”

“Maybe. Sure would be nice to be a little more self-sufficient but Babe … regardless of what some people might think, unless you want to go back to living in the Stone Age there is no way to be totally self-sufficient and even Stone Age people traded between tribes or groups or whatever they called each other.”

“Oh I know that it’s just … “

“Just?”

“Rand? Does it, you know, ever kinda bother you that we have so much … not that everyone knows … and people still treat us like the poor, half-baked cousins they are doing a favor for? We’re good for manual labor but we don’t quite seem to measure up in the social department?”

Rand laughed and said, “It’s not quite that bad. OK, maybe a little. Does it bother me? On days like today a little I suppose. But pride goeth before a fall and we both agreed to keep most of what we have to ourselves. There’s a certain cost to that I think and this might be one of them. If people don’t think you have stuff they are going to guard their stuff like you are the neighbor that is constantly going to come borrowing something and giving it back broken.”

“I guess so. It just seems that we’ve proven ourselves enough. Do we have to start over every stinking time? And your family ought to know that you … “

“Babe, you forget, you’ve only known me since I grew out of being the jerk I used to be. My family remembers it all. Sure, I’d like to say that it should be buried in the past where it belongs but I keep trying to tell you but you just don’t want to believe me. I was rotten. The only thing different from me and Chase Peters at one point was that I never got into the drugs and I was hung up on just one girl, not that I didn’t experiment a time or two or flirt. Our whole crowd was into that, even Julia though she hid it lots better than the rest of us.”

“Your Uncle George says you weren’t really as bad as you think you were.”

“Yeah, well Uncle George doesn’t know everything and I ain’t going to tell him more. I’ve got enough problems in that direction. Not that I’m proud of it. It’s one of the reasons I needed to leave home to go to school. I needed to get away from the old reputation and prove to myself that … well … I needed to get away from my old friends and habits and make some new ones and prove to myself that I really was a different person. I acted different, but I still had a lot of changing to do on the inside. And now sometimes the old hurts and other baggage still want to get in my head. Like today with the way I felt I was being treated.”

“I can totally understand that. I’ve got bad habits that I’m trying to break too. It’s just hard to separate the truly ‘bad’ from the instincts that have helped me stay alive this long and survive. Sometimes they aren’t too different, at least for me.”

Rand nodded his agreement and understanding and we kept up our conversation until Rand needed his full concentration to drive the wagon in the dark. I’m glad I know the Rand of today because I don’t know that I would have liked the younger Rand too much. On the other hand, it’s good to know that he hasn’t always been this close to perfect. I think being married to a saint would be miserable; I’d be afraid of never being able to measure up or keep up.

Sleep was actually easy to find that night. Wonder why? (yes, that is sarcasm) I’m glad we got the sleep that we did because the next morning was pretty awful. It wasn’t exactly colder but it was damp which had me aching from my lower back all the way down to my feet, even after Rand had me put a lap blanket over me. I don’t usually like to do that because the mules sometimes get balky over it for some reason.

The air was cold and calm, at least until we got within hearing distance of the Crenshaw place. Rand and I weren’t talking much but then I started hearing a kind of buzzing sound … or that’s the way my brain thought of it. I taped Rand and asked him what the noise was since it was too early for the big bugs to be out and he stopped the wagon for a second.

“Uh oh. Get in the back and stay down. Hand my shotgun up here and you take the rifle. We stopped in the tree line right before you get to the farm and the “buzzing” turned out to be some angry people bickering in the firelight of a bonfire that had been lit to light the yard and generate some warmth. A man and woman looked like they were acting as the spokespeople for the angry group. We heard the man speak first.

“Listen Crenshaw, we ain’t got nothing to eat at my house. It ain’t fair that y’all have all this here and you ain’t willing to share it.”

“Don’t tell me what’s fair Lem. You see all these people here behind me? They’ve been working for their share. Some of these animals are theirs. We’re just sharing the load to save some time and effort, but no one around here is getting a free ride. You get out what you put in. Nothing is free in life.”

Then the woman’s voice rang out as we snuck around back of the malcontents, “That’s so easy for you to say George. You don’t have babies at home to take care of and you have plenty of help.”

“What’s wrong with your eyes woman?! I got three grandbabies on the way! And you do got help Lucretia. Or you would if you could keep your man’s head out of the jug for more than a few hours at a time. You let him get away with acting like he does. He’s drank up all of your money and traded just about everything else you had that was worth anything. Now he spends time on that datburn still … and stealing people’s crops to fill it with … when he should be doing better for your family like setting traps or trading work for food. Anything would be better than what he does right now. As for the way things are, we’ve all helped you as much as we can but our temporary help is all give out. We have our own families to feed too. Your own Daddy promised to take care of you and the kids if you’d just leave Hiram until he sobered up but you turned him down time and again … and now it’s too late. Your Daddy is dead and your Momma not too far from it and your brother is done with you and refuses to pour good resources down the same old drain.”

“Oh you think you have all the answers don’t you George. You’re just like my brother … always preaching like you know what’s best. Well I’m done listening to folks like you and him. Lemuel is right, it’s time we took what we need since no one seems to want to help us out in our hard times.”

She was pulling a gun, with her kids standing right there with eyes as big and round as silver dollars, and it happened again. I acted without thinking, but Rand was right behind me so at least I wasn’t acting alone. I stepped out of the bushes while some people screamed and ran and did that old trick where you push the back of someone’s knee so that it gives out and they lose their balance. I didn’t stop there though; I pushed so that she went down face first in the wet clay puddle she had been standing in front of.

Rand had the man called Lem down with a knee in his back to keep him there with the guy squalling and complaining about his bad leg and being on disability and I don’t know what all as I tuned him out after the first few whines. Clyde ran up and got their guns while some of the other men took out after the angry crowd that had suddenly turned yellow and tried to run. It was a regular brawl for a little while and feisty Lucretia bucked me off and then we were scrabbling around in the muck and mess. An elbow to my temple dropped me long enough for her to twist loose and make a run for it but she left her kids behind.

“Girl, get up here and let me take a look at that cut. Sit here while I see if it needs sewing.” Mrs. Withrow wasn’t the kind of woman you lightly disobeyed. She looked around at the mess the yard was in and said, “My word. What are decent folks going to have to put up with next. George! George Crenshaw, them girls of yours need to sit down and catch their nerves. Rand … you find one of these young bucks and you go fetch Lucretia’s brother to come pick up these three chillrun and tell him to bring blankets, they barely have underclothes stitched on. Roberta, Clarice … stir my pot so the stew don’t stick. Anyone else with bumps and bruises make a line so I kin look you over.”

With Mrs. Withrow’s … umm, encouragement … ringing in everybody’s ears the yard was quickly set to right and work resumed. The children’s uncle came and collected the children and Uncle George sent a box of food home with them so long as the man promised not to return the children to their parents until they straightened up. “I been trying to get my hands on the kids since before Dad died. This might just give Momma a reason to keep on living. The kids are too young to be completely ruint yet so hopefully we can do for them a sight better than what they were getting.”

Mrs. Withrow whispered to me, “You think you have time yet to run that treadle of yours? I’ve got some old blankets cut down for coats for those children but there is no way I’m going to get all three finished in time for the tree.” So guess what I’m doing tomorrow on Christmas Eve?

My back is killing me. Lifting, hauling, and brawling … what a day. The only thing that has helped is that the weather has warmed up on us by about ten degrees during the day and between fifteen and twenty at night. Uncle George was grinding his teeth a bit but he is hoping that the weather cools back off soon so that we can finish the butchering after Christmas.

As for me, now that the horse liniment that Rand rubbed into my back has started to work, I’m finally off to bed. Rand has promised a good back rub. I don’t know what is going on except that it must be the cold weather. I’ve worked lots harder and longer than this without feeling so wiped out and sore.


December 24th – Why do I have to get sick now?! I feel awful. I’ve got to get over this.

All day I’ve felt icky. Luckily the only real work I’ve done is basting those three little coats together and the finished them up for Paul to pick them up when he came by before dinner time. Well, I made popcorn balls but that wasn’t that hard except for trying hard not to smell the one batch of candy that I burnt. Rather than waste the mess, Rand put it in hot water and melted it and then mixed it in with Taz and his harem’s slop bucket.

I can’t be sick tomorrow. I just can’t.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 69

December 25th – MERRY CHRISTMAS!! The is the first truly Merry Christmas for me since my family died. Part of it is Rand. Part of it is finally coming to terms with myself although that is a work in progress and probably always will be. I think the biggest thing that made this holiday different is that I’m remembering the lessons I learned when I was little, the real reason for the season. I’m seeing things I wasn’t and capable of seeing before. My confidence in the future is returning whether the future gets there in the form I expect it to or not.

I’m remembering that people matter to God. We matter so much that He gave up Heaven to dwell here on Earth with us and then He died for us even when we didn’t deserve it. What a huge deal that is and even though I know that we should think about that every day but I’m glad that there is special day set aside where we share honoring that love with people that might not know about it yet.

I should go to bed but I’m still too excited and too wound up.

Yesterday, by late afternoon, I finally started feeling better and after Paul came to pick up the three little coats that I finished for Mrs. Withrow Rand surprised me with a dinner of beans and sausage and cornbread. If I hadn’t been feeling any better that would have done it; it was just so sweet I could hardly stand it. Things just got better from that point.

We got a little silly singing Christmas carols, eating the leftover popcorn from where I made the popcorn balls, we drank hot butterscotch milk. We even hung up our socks on the fireplace mantel just because it made us laugh. Then right before bed we stepped outside and looked at the stars thought about who hung them there.

Last night was wonderful. But today has been even better. For about fifteen minutes after I first got up I wasn’t feeling too hot but after a slice of Rand’s leftover cornbread I felt better. I was over excited and it went straight to my stomach just like always. Rand had me stay inside while he took care of the animals which gave me time to load the popcorn balls into the back of the wagon he had driven to the front for me. Rand had already put a five gallon bucket of molasses in the bed of the little wagon and I made sure everything else was ready.

It wasn’t quite as cold as it had been the last couple of days but I was real happy to see that the deacons had finally convinced the majority of folks to accept that a building didn’t need a steeple to suffice as a house of worship. The sermon took place in a group of old store fronts across from the park where the light could spill through windows taped up or covered with opaque plastic sheeting to keep the cold at bay. Wood stoves made from metal barrels put off just enough heat in the cavernous old commercial space to get rid of the damp and were vented through former furnace flues.

There were more people that chairs so children sat on laps or on the floor. Even some men wound up there; Rand gave up his seat and sat in the aisle b me so that the rest of the family could sit together in the same row. Mick and Tommy sat on either side of Rand and he only poked them once when their attention began to wander enough that Uncle George noticed.

Several of the younger children were enlisted to act out the Christmas story as Pastor Ken read passages from Matthew and Luke aloud. I have to admit it was hard not to laugh when little “Mary” hit “Joseph” with a pillow decorated like a sheep after he knocked over the straw-filled manger that held a baby doll wrapped in an old dish towel. “There, there baby Jesus. Don’t cry. Momma’s got you. Stinky ol’ Joseph didn’t mean to dump ya on yo head. Boys are just like that.” It was even funnier to see Pastor Ken trying not to laugh. When the shepherds started using their crooks to sword fight he finally sat down in the middle of the children and just pulled them around him and finished the story as best he could. By the time he was finished, one of the young wise men had fallen asleep with his “crown” on upside down and half over his eyes.

Then we sang Christmas carols and some old hymns. Aside from Good Christian Men Rejoice and What Child Is This the two others that tugged at my memories the most were I Love To Tell the Story and He Leadeth Me. There were plenty of people wiping their eyes after that one.

And then with a tap on my shoulder a young girl whispered that Mrs. Withrow and Momma O wanted to know if I would come help across the street at the civic center. Before I could leave Rand whispered in my ear, “Keep your pistol handy. If they get to be too much just leave. I’ll be over to help as soon as I can.”

That could have been taken a lot of different ways but I knew it was just Rand’s short hand way of saying to be safe in case of dangers and strangers, to not let our friends drive me crazy, and that he’d be over to help with either situation if need be as soon as he made sure the boys couldn’t get up to mischief that would get them on Uncle George’s naughty list.

I followed my nose through the park and just as soon as I got to the civic center someone threw an apron over my head that had Ladies’ Auxiliary embroidered on the bib. I noticed that a couple of women were bickering about what should go where on the tables. I thought it was a little late in the game for that to be happening and looked around for Momma O. She was sitting in a rocker in the corner just shaking her head.

The bickering was fast getting on my nerves but no one seemed to know what to do about it so I used my fingers to blow a time out whistle and said, “Momma O? Mrs. Withrow? With your permission I suggest we leave the main dish where it is at and have some of the ladies serve it so it gets pieced out with the rice in equal portions … one size ladle for the adults and another size for the children. We can then slide these three tables down and put the salads on one end and the sides down at the other. The beverages can stay over by the wood stove so that the coffee, tea, and cider stay warm. The table that has been set up for the cobblers can stay covered until everyone has gotten their first servings. Have some ladies guard that too or it’ll be gone before you know it. This way it doesn’t take forever and a day for the line to go through and get everybody served. And everyone gets the one plate they brought to use so that the people at the end of the line get a chance at having their share, same as the front of the line.”

And so it was and a good thing too because people were starting to file in with plates in hand just as soon as the last dish was uncovered. I don’t remember who managed the rice and burgoo but I stuck to the sides and salads table. Reminded me a whole lot of the diner and just like at the diner I came home with a bunch of recipes written down. The one that got the most attention was the fifty gallons of burgoo.

The meat for the burgoo included forty pounds of beef, between twenty-five and thirty pounds of venison, ten squirrels, five good sized rabbits, eight chickens, the pork from two hogs, and five pounds of beef suet. The meat was cooked with water to cover for four hours so that the meat fell from the bones. The bones were taken out and were either feed to the dogs or used to make soup from, I’m not sure. The meat was return to the liquid and then twenty-five pounds of potatoes, twenty pounds of onions, ten pounds of carrots, and the kernels from 100 ears of corn were added and boiled together for another two hours. Then the fire was allowed to burn low and one bushel of tomatoes are added along with four heads of cabbage, then pounds of green beans, and 20 quarts of tomato juice. Next comes the rest of the seasonings; six ounces of black pepper, one and a half ounces of red pepper, six chopped jalapeno peppers, six chopped cayenne peppers, and one pound of salt. Everything is stirred up good and the simmered for another hour.

You would have thought that fifty gallons of something that rich and thick would have gone a long way but it was a good thing that we pieced it out with rice because there wasn’t a dropped left to be scrapped out of any of the big kettles by the time seconds were had by everyone who wanted them. Gracious! And no one had to worry about taking home leftovers.

The kids had hysterics over the popcorn balls and we had brought enough molasses that even the adults got in on pulling taffy. A lot of the old folks laughed and carried on like they were kids themselves, reminiscing and saying how this was so like the Christmases they remembered from their childhood. Some who were raised during or in the aftermath of the Great Depression said there was actually more to eat than what they’d had back then. I know there wasn’t a family there who hadn’t donated something to the pot so that there would be enough for everyone. Rand had taken a deer over, Mr. Coffey donated a hog, Uncle George the beef, and I guess the Harbingers donated the other hog. Everyone else gave what they could.

I was trying to unstuck some taffy from my teeth when Rand started laughing. Before I could take my finger out of my mouth and ask what was so funny I heard, “Well Rand, looks like you finally found a way to keep Shorty from opening her mouth.”

I jerked around and there was Ram, grinning like a fool. What brought me up short was there was a small Hispanic woman with him. I was grinding my teeth trying to loosen the taffy and give Ram what for when the woman poked her elbow none too gently into his ribs. “Ramiro Diaz, usted se comporta!”

My immediate laugh at the expression on his face finally broken the taffy loose and I gave my crazy foster brother a hug and was introduced to Concepcion Herrera.

“Oh it is so nice to finally meet you. And please, call me Concha.”

I liked her right away but I wasn’t sure what to make of Ram so quickly taking up with someone else. Especially after I found out she had a little two year old boy named Amando. They couldn’t stay, they were both couriers carrying documents to other stations. Ram pulled Rand aside and was talking to him quietly which left me alone with Concha.

“I know what you must think of me. Taking advantage of Ram in his grief.”

“If you want to know the truth, I was thinking it might be the other way around.”

She laughed quietly and said, “Maybe … maybe we both needed to go through sorrows to find each other. My mother is watching my little Mando while Ramiro and I finish this courier job. For me it is my last. There have been one too many scares and I have a little boy to think of. Mando’s father died of the flu and my mother … well, I was the only one able to bring in money for a while. We have a small storefront now and Ramiro … I … we … we met at the cantina. I was … lonely and just wanted to dance, just one more time. Ramiro got me out of a bad situation and then made sure I got home safely. When he came by the next day to make sure that I was OK we started talking and … well … “

By then she was blushing. I told her, “You know that I’m Ram’s foster sister right? Not biological? I really have no say about … “

“He calls you his hermanita and you call him hermano, these days that is good enough. So … you do not … object?”

I just shook my head, “Ram is a grown man. I’m not saying I’m not surprised but I’m not his momma either. If the two of you work together and it’s healthy … well, I wouldn’t say that my marriage started out the traditional way either.”

Before I could put my foot in my mouth Ram and Rand came up. Rand and I walked them out to a converted flatbed pulled by four mules. “Shorty, I wish we could stay longer but we’ve got to get to our rendezvous point for the next leg of our run. You two take care of each other.”

He helped Concha up onto the wagon seat and she got settled with her shotgun. I followed him around to his side of the wagon but he stopped at the back end. “What do you think of Concha?”

“I don’t think it matters what I think of Concha.”

“OK, then are you upset about Concha?”

“Ram, there isn’t time to cover all the details. She told me how you two met. I’m a little … surprised … given what happened with Sherri but … I don’t have a whole lot of room, or right, to talk. She seems nice on short acquaintance. But she sounds like she has had it as bad as you. And there is a little boy. Just be careful. Neither one of you needs to get hurt and the little boy … you saw what kids went through in foster care. What if the kid starts to care for you and then you and Concha don’t make it?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ve thought. But this time … You know, I did go find Sherri. She didn’t want to talk to me. Her family would barely let me talk to her but I got the local base chaplain as a mediator and made it that we needed to end the marriage legally so there wouldn’t be problems down the road. She got really upset over that. She’d been using her military ID to get benefits for her and her family. She was shocked when I cut her off. Said some things that were … well, they hurt. She’s even more unstable than she used to be. Now I wonder how we ever got together, why we ever got together. It’s different with Concha. She is … she’s strong. She’s spunky. But she can be gentle too. She reminds me a little bit of my grandmother … spicy but sweet. You should see her with Mando. And that kid. I wouldn’t have any trouble raising him like he really was mine. She loved her husband and I won’t ask her to forget about him. She knows I loved Sherri but she isn’t jealous of that; she is the one that encouraged me to find some closure and find out if it was fixable or not and that was after we’d already started having feelings for one another. Just … just give it a chance. Keep an open mind.”

“Ram … you don’t need my blessing. But if you want it, all I can say is I want to see you happy. If Concha is the one that helps you find that then so be it. Just be careful. I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

Then he flipped me in the head with his hat and grinned. “I’m not looking for any more pain either Shorty.”

It wasn’t moments before he was in the wagon seat and they were driving away. I leaned against Rand and had a case of the shivers. It wasn’t from cold but from too much emotion and trying to stay in control. Rand whispered, “You OK?”

“I guess. He just comes and goes like the wind and there is always some type of drama. He’s the closest thing I have to a brother and I wouldn’t give that up but sometimes the worrying and stuff feels like it is going to overwhelm me. Is it that way with you and Brendon?”

“Um, not exactly but I do know what you mean. I was pretty shook up when we found out about Alicia and then to find out she was pregnant … Still is hard to get my head around but I have my own life to deal with. Now let’s go in before you get a real chill. You’re looking pale. You sure you aren’t too tired?”

I was a little tired but I didn’t think it showed enough that Rand would see it. I didn’t know whether to be insulted that he was commenting on my looks or flattered that he noticed. We walked inside and Rand got pulled away by Mitch Peters and some other men and I went to see how Momma O was doing.

When I got over there she was already surrounded and obviously doing fine so I decided to take the time to get our boxes and stuff together before they disappeared. As I was looking for them Mrs. Withrow called me over.

“You looking for your things girl?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I set ‘em back in the kitchen area over by the broom closet. Come on and we’ll go fetch ‘em.”

We walked into the kitchen and found that most of the clean up has already been finished. As we did the last few things Mrs. Withrow asked, “How you feeling child?”

“Fine,” I answered not quite sure why she was asking.

“Hmmm. I was worried. You shouldn’t be wrestling like you did with Lucretia. It’s not good for you.”

I laughed and told her honestly that that wasn’t the worst brawl I’d been in over the last couple of months.

“Surely but things are different now. Kiri? Child, look at me.”

I looked at her but never did hear about whatever she was looking for because Rand came into the kitchen looking for me.

“Babe, it looks like it wants to rain and … Um, oh, how do you do Mrs. Withrow?”

“Rand Joiner, you are as noisy a cub as you ever were.” But she took the sting out of her words with a smile. “You get Kiri home. Your uncle is giving me a ride home in his covered buggy and I expect everyone will be heading for home soon to take care of chores. If this is rain heading our way I expect we’ll be able to finish up the butchering in a day or two.” Then she turned to me and said, “When we do I want you and me to sit down and talk a spell child. You hear?”

I said, “Yes ma’am and then left as Sadie and Hannah and a couple of other women and girls were coming in to take care of the very last of the clean up and to gather their own dishes.”

I have a feeling she is going to invite me to be a member of the Ladies’ Auxiliary. I guess I ought to be flattered and I kind of am now that I’ve had time to think about it. Rand said the Ladies’ Auxiliary was one of the big social groups from before but not just anyone could join, you had to be invited and approved by a clear majority of existing members.

If the day had ended there I would have been content but the closer we got to home the bigger Rand’s silly grin would get. We pulled in and then once we were on the main forty we pulled down one of the little wagon trails that Rand had made to get to a fallen tree he had been cutting for wood a bit at a time.

“Ram brought you something Babe,” Rand said as he started moving some branches that had been piled against the large main trunk of the downed tree.

“Brought me something” was an understatement. Rand kept pulling out boxes and a couple of burlap type bags until the back of our little wagon was full. He then covered the top of that with some branches to take back and use as fat wood in the stove. There were some odds and ends … well, mostly odds and ends like bottles and corks, the odd kitchen knife, a good sharpening stone, some bags and decorative type colored bottles, some jars of specialty food brands like Alessi and Vigo. Then there were some weird stuff like canned conch, Jamaican spice blends, kippers, smoke oysters, canned clams, canned crabmeat, canned shrimp, small tins of octopus and squid too. There were some semi-normal stuff like canned mangoes and boxes of dates. There was some Latin American specialty foods that were a little worse for wear like they came out of a seconds or “dent” store, or maybe from a flea market grocery stand. There is nearly a dozen tins of guava paste and several bags and small boxes of Cuban, Mexican, and Latin American type candies and cookies, again looking like they had come from a second hand store or flea market stand.

The best of the best though were two items. The first was sugar cones called piloncilla. Each cone was about six ounces worth and there was three dozen of the small cones packed in a case. The second was practically beyond belief. It was a fifty pound bag of potatoes. Ram probably meant for us to eat them or me can them but a lot of the tubers already had sprouts trying to grow from their eyes. I will keep a couple to bake and eat but come the first of the year Rand and I are going to plant them and pray that we get a crop that could be worth its weight in gold.

There was also a letter … well, little more than a card really … wishing Rand and I a Merry Christmas signed by both Ram and Concha. By the time Rand and I were finished unloading and finding places to put things the rain was here in earnest and the temperature did feel like it was dropping. We lit the fireplace to chase away the chill and popped some popcorn since neither one of us was hungry enough to bother cooking a full meal.

I hadn’t figured out how to give Rand his present yet so when he went outside to check on the animals one last time before locking the barn down I got the chaps out and wrapped them quickly in the shirt I had been working on but hadn’t had time to finish and put it on the coffee table with a bow stuck on it and then ran to the bedroom because I was suddenly too embarrassed to watch him open it.

He walked into the bedroom carrying his unopened package and the sock I had hung up last night. “You beat me to it. I know it isn’t much. I had meant to get more of them done but I’ll add to it and next Christmas you’ll have a whole set. Let’s open them at the same time.”

He kissed my cheek and put the misshapen sock in my hand. I reached into my sock and pulled out three packages. Each one held a wooden figure. I couldn’t help but smile. Rand had carved the first three pieces in our own manger scene. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph out of oak, cedar, and pecan wood. I ran my fingers over the smooth surfaces.

I looked up as Rand exclaimed, “Hey! Just what I needed! Did you make these?”

“Um hmm. They should fit, I took the pattern from a pair of Daddy’s old chainsaw chaps but made them longer on the in seam. I’m sorry I didn’t finish the shirt.”

“Even half finished it is wonderful. Um, do you like what I made?”

“Oh Rand, they’re beautiful. I hope you don’t mind but I’d like to put them on my dresser rather than just having them as Christmas decorations.”

He smiled and reached over and kissed me pretty good so I guess he doesn’t mind.

We’ve been relaxing ever sense but I think it is time we both headed off to bed. The wind has picked up, I can hear it even with the shutters closed. Rand said it will likely be at least another twenty-four hours until it is cold enough to butcher again so hopefully we’ll have at least one day to get organized before we have to get back at things.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 70

December 26th – To wet and windy to butcher. Part of me is glad. It took me a long time to get going this morning. As much as I liked the burgoo yesterday I think it was too rich for me or I should have eaten last night or something. I woke up fine but right in the middle of cooking breakfast the smell was just too much for me. I had to keep swallowing and I was a whole cup of tea before my stomach settled down.

That wasn’t the worst of it though. I was fine and dandy again and Rand and I had just finished eating breakfast. I picked up the plates to take them to the dish pan in the sink and when I turned … it had been a long time since I’d had something like that happen. It felt like someone stuck a hot poker in one of the deep scars that is down low on my stomach, the one that aches sometimes during my monthlies.

If the plates had been anything other than speckleware they would have shattered when they hit the floor. As it is my favorite tea cup is history. I went from standing up and joking with Rand to on the floor on my knees, forehead on the floor trying to catch my breath without moving any more than necessary.

Rand knocked his chair over backwards rushing to my side. His face was white as a sheet when I was finally able to turn my head and look at him square.

“I’m all right. Just help me to stand up please. I could … oh geez, that stings.”

“Just hang on Babe. I’ll run to get Ken and … “

“No! No. I know what it is, it has just been forever since it happened. Just help me up.”

He wouldn’t hear of me sitting in the chair and picked me up and carried me to our bed. “Rand, you don’t need to … oh … oh … yeah, that feels lot’s better. Just help me … yeah … like that.”

“What the Sam Hill happened?! Are you sure you’re OK?”

“Yeah. I have a deep scar on the left side and I guess I turned the wrong way and … the scar gets kind of hard or set I guess you want to call it. When I turned I guess I stretched it and it caught me off guard.”

“Which one?”

“Hey. Hey!! Your hands are cold! The one on my left. No, not that one. It’s further down. Uh … yeah … um … that one. Rand! “

“Stop blushing Babe, you make me feel like a dirty old man and I’m your husband. Does it still hurt?”

“I can’t stop myself from blushing, that’s just me. And yes it is still sore so stop poking. No! You are not going to go get Ken. Having you look at these nasty scars is as much as I can take. I refuse to try and explain … “

He got down in my face and said, “Every … single … scar … every one of them … is beautiful to me because they mean you survived. That’s all I care about Kiri. If you think I like the idea of some other man seeing you I can promise you I’m not but Ken is a doctor … or as close to one as we’ve got around here. And I am going to go get him, this could be your appendix, you haven’t been feeling too hot.”

“The appendix is on the right side. And I don’t have one. I don’t have a spleen either. I’m also missing about a yard or so of my intestines and a few other bits and pieces on my inside. I’m telling you Rand, I’d know if I was really sick. I’ve just been wound up and it settled in my stomach. I might need to lay off drinking so much tea or something. And we haven’t had as many fresh veggies the last few weeks as I got used to eating. I might need to add some fiber or something to my diet if I can figure out how. Really. Please Rand. I … I … I really don’t want to have Ken … you know … see or … touch … me. I … please Rand. Please don’t. I promise that I’ll be fine.”

We went back and forth for a few more minutes which gave the rain time to come back and really start coming down. “All right but if it happens again Kiri, I swear I don’t care if it is the middle of the night and I have to ride all the way to Blitchton to get him. You scared me to death. AND you aren’t doing anything else but staying in this bed.”

“What?! That’s … that’s … “

“That’s the way it is going to be. As a matter of fact,” he said taking off his boots. “I’ll stay here to make sure you don’t sneak off and find something to get into. Getting you to sit still is worse than trying to harness a bumble bee.”

So guess what? I’ve been stuck in this bed listening to Rand’s snores most of the day. The first time he fell asleep I got up to go get my crochet bag and turned around to find him standing there with his hands on his hips. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack on purpose?”

He marched me straight back to bed. I eventually fell asleep myself but woke up when my scar started twinging again but it was nowhere near as bad as it was this morning. Rand had gotten up and taken care of the animals and heated up a jar of chicken broth and made a pan of cornbread. He did let me get up and eat because neither one of us can stand crumbs in the bed but after lunch we went straight back to bed. Wasn’t anything we could have done outside anyway with the way it was raining. And it was a cold rain too which just made it nicer to stay inside.

It felt like I was starving to death by dinner time. Rand was so excited by that that he let me help him fix venison stroganoff using some of the powdered sour cream and mushroom soup base out of our long term storage with some canned venison and we served it over some of the LTS egg noodles. I don’t know why I was so hungry all of a sudden, it’s not like I’d done any work today.

Rand checked on the animals, none had really wanted to go out into the rain and I couldn’t blame them. Even Woofer and Fraidy decided to stay in the barn where it was warm and Rand had given Woofer a bone he’d snuck off from the pile left over from butchering the cows. Rand told me it was no time before Woofer had it cracked open and getting to the marrow inside. Makes me realize that I never want a dog to really bite into me.

Rand is in long johns and I’m in an old flannel gown that used to be Momma’s. It’s weird looking in the mirror, I can almost see her in my own reflection. Rand is banking the fire in the woodstove so I guess he wants to turn the lamp off and get some sleep. Now that it has stopped raining the cold is really setting in again and Rand says that he’s going to go to Uncle George’s tomorrow.

Hmmmm. He said that “he” was going to Uncle George’s. I have a feeling it is going to take some convincing to get him to not pitch a fit when I decide I’m going too.


December 27th – Today would have been Daddy’s birthday. I don’t know how I could have let it slip up on me like this. I cried a little but not where Rand saw although I wound up having to explain anyway when he noticed my red nose. I could have told him it was the cold but that would have been lying.

And it was cold; glory was it cold, down in the twenties easy. It got a little better once the sun came out but it never did get much above forty degrees. Uncle George said cold snaps as mean as this one were rare; it was every bit of twenty-five or thirty years since we’d had like this in December. Usually the worst weather is in January. The burn barrels set around the yard helped but the heat didn’t radiate far. And the men scrubbing the hogs roasted on one side and froze on the other.

I looked around for Mrs. Withrow but didn’t see her. Mick caught me looking and said, “Missus W is sitting with some lady that just lost her husband over in Poucher’s Corner. Some kind of kin to her husband is what Dad said. Kiri, Rand said you were the one that knitted the scarf. I … I know I’m thirteen and was too old for the Christmas tree but … anyway I wanted to say thank you. Tommy likes his too and because they are different colors we won’t get them mixed up. Tommy and I … we meant to make you something for Christmas but … um … “

“Thank you and it’s OK. You were some of my first friends, that was like an early Christmas present.”

I don’t know who was more embarrassed him or me, but he was being sweet … for a thirteen year old boy. I kept forgetting how old he was because he was small for his age. Rand told me that Mick was a preemie and has always run small for his age. Tommy was two years younger than him and slight for his age too. They may have been small for their age but they sure did their share of the work. They lifted toted and still managed to find some time to walk Hatchet around. Rand didn’t want them riding him because of the cold weather but did lead him around the corral more than a few times and then rubbed him down and brushed him out before putting a blanket back over him.

We all worked hard today. It took me forever to get Rand to stop checking up on me. Alicia finally asked what was wrong and I had to tell her.

“Ouch! Are you sure that’s all it was?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t even sick this morning, not really, and I’m hardly sore. I swear you would think that my head had fallen off the way he is carrying on.”

Alicia got a laugh out of that and next time Rand came to check on me she busted down in giggles which left Rand looking at her like she’d lost a few IQ points which only made her giggle harder.

It wasn’t all fun and giggles. The work was hard, harder than it was before because we were all bundled up. And on top of that that strange man named Lemuel came back claiming Rand owed him “compensation” for hurting him because now he wasn’t able to work.

Rand, not much in the mood for it asked, “Not able to work huh? So what was your excuse before? You said you weren’t able to work then either. And you seem to be walking pretty good ‘cause I know for a fact that you live a good three miles from here even cutting across fields.”

Lemuel got all puffed up and squeaked and squawked but in the end he went away empty handed and acting pathetic. Bill came over as I was taking some fat to the lard kettle and told me, “You make sure Rand watches his back. That old boy has been trying to pull something over on anyone that he can. We want let him trade at The Shack anymore until he pays the tab he ran up. He’s conniving and has probably made his way in life like this up ‘til now and still can’t figure out why it isn’t working any more.” Great, like I need something else to worry about.

We brought home all of our jars today. Uncle George was worried about them freezing out in the barn. Honestly I’m glad I didn’t have to ask him for them because I wanted to bring them home anyway. It was getting so cold it was hard to work so we left the meat to hang in the near freezing butcher shed, packed up our stuff and came home a couple of hours earlier than we had expected to. We also brought home the cured hams and shoulders and they are hung in the smokehouse … with the thick doors padlocked shut.


December 28th – Busy, busy, busy. Mrs. Withrow kept saying we needed to sit and talk but there wasn’t any time and when one of the kids – and boy named Robert - got a bad splatter with hot lard, she was busy tending to him up until it was time for us to leave. Too tired to write more. Gosh this butchering work is hard.


December 29th – Was able to avoid Mrs. Withrow again. I’m rethinking whether I want to be in that Ladies’ Auxiliary. I’ve been working on my list of things that I need to do as soon as the butchering is over with. No way am I going to have time to be involved in some social club.


December 30th – Ahhhhh. We made it. Today was the last butchering day. Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve and Rand and I plan on staying at home and working the kinks out of our joints. Besides it is warming up a little bit and I’m sure the animals need to be outside for a few hours of daylight beyond what comes in from the loft windows. And you don’t want to know how bad the barn needs to be raked out and fresh hay and bedding put down. Ugh.


December 31st – They’re crazy. Every one of them is flat out crazy. No way. Absolutely, positively no way it can be true.


January 1st – I think … it can’t be true but even Pastor Ken … what a way to start the new year. How could this have possibly happened?!


January 2nd – Rand is upset. He thinks that I don’t want to be. It isn’t that. It isn’t that at all. I mean, I’m not sure how I feel about it but it’s not because I don’t want to be. Now his feelings are hurt and I’m upset that he thinks that I don’t want his … I still can’t say it. I just …


January 3rd – OK, this is ridiculous. Well, not ridiculous exactly but … pretty unbelievable. OK, maybe not unbelievable but it sure as heck is shocking. I’m too young. Aren’t I? What if I’m not good at it? I could totally mess of some little innocent …

I guess I better start at the beginning before I get so wound up I don’t make any sense at all. I’m pretty close to that as it is.

On New Year’s Eve Rand and I mapped out some work that needed doing. We put some compost on the garden and plowed it one more time. We marked all the rows and put mulch between them. I had plans to put the first seeds in the ground on the first, kind of like a good luck but I’ve been so turned around I would have planted the hoe and put the seeds in the shed.

I was feeling really good and then Mrs. Withrow, Momma O, Mrs. DeLois, and Pastor Ken all show up a little after lunch. I knew right away that something was up but I couldn’t begin to imagine what would bring out the big guns like that. Pastor Ken said he was going to go say howdy to Rand who was checking the fence around the cow pasture where a limb had come down on it. That left me alone with the ladies.

None of them had ever been back to our house much less inside and I was nervous about it but it didn’t seem to be the house they were interested in though they were polite and nodded about how nice and neat everything was.

Momma O started by saying, “I’ve heard you’ve been missing a certain talk and on purpose too if I don’t miss my guess.”

Mrs. DeLois tried to come to my aid by saying, “Now Momma … “

“Don’t Momma me DeLois, this can’t continue.”

All I could do was sit there with my mouth hanging open. I couldn’t imagine what I had done to get into trouble this time and I was racking my brains trying to think of something to say.

“Don’t bother denying it child. And no, you aren’t in trouble, at least not the kind you seem to be thinking of,” Mrs. Withrow chided.

“Well, I’ll admit I don’t have a clue what is going on. This can’t be over the Ladies’ Auxiliary surely,” I stammered. “I don’t want to be rude but, if it isn’t that what am I in trouble for?”

“Child, didn’t I already say you aren’t in trouble? But … my lands. Kiri Joiner, I’m gonna ask you something and I don’t want you getting all pruned faced at me for prying. Not a one of us mean any harm. But it seems to me … well … you’ve had a rather … unconventional upbringing the last few years and you might not … Oh for Heaven’s sake, I’m gonna feel plum foolish if I’m wrong. Kiri you … well, have you been feeling … unwell lately?”

I sure didn’t know what business it was of theirs but I could think of a good enough reason not to tell them. “I’ve been a little … busy … and when I get stressed out it … settles in my stomach. I still don’t see … “

“Girl, don’t get so defensive,” Momma O said with a snort. “I could hardly believe it myself until I took a good look at you and realized … Girl, have you had your monthly lately?”

“What?! Now, you’re getting a little personal. What has that got … to … … do … Oh,” I finally laughed. “I’m sorry Momma O but you are off base there. I’m not exactly … well … regular as a clock … but I’d know if my calendar was off.”

“DeLois, you tell her.”

“Momma! Honestly!!”

“Yeah, I am your momma and I’m telling you to tell her.”

“Oh for goodness sake. Kiri, every once in a while … “ Mrs. DeLois smiled and then said, “Kiri, every once in a while God likes to show his sense of humor and surprise us. I was five months along with Paul … regular as clock work too until that point … and no one was more surprised than me. He was an answer to prayers after … well, we hadn’t thought we’d be able to have any more and then suddenly I had four month to enjoy being pregnant and get ready for a new baby.”

I didn’t want to hear it. None of it. They kept trying to get me to think about it and to my absolute horror they’d even carried their suspicions to Pastor Ken. Everyone, Rand included, wanted Ken to examine me. Well I refused and there was a bit of a row over it. By the time they left I was furious; so angry I busted out crying and was pretty zoned out for the rest of the day. Rand didn’t know what to do. He looked like he’d walked into a wall and the wall had won. We didn’t even get to enjoy the New Year’s Even plans we had made.

Next morning I did nothing but puke I was so upset. Or at least that is what I kept telling myself. And then Rand started in on me. It can’t hurt to let Ken examine me. It would set our minds to rest. Don’t I want to know for sure. On and on and on. By lunch time we were barely talking.

Ken showed up as I was doing the lunch dishes and I saw him and Rand talking out in front yard. Rand was mad at first but as Ken talked to him he settled down and then got that worried look he gets. I knew it was because he was worried about me and I felt bad enough about some of the things that we’d said to one another that I stepped out onto the porch and just said one word before walking back in. “Fine.”

All I wanted to do was cry and I guess Ken figured out fast that I wasn’t going to be an easy patient.

“Kiri, I understand … “

“You don’t understand anything. Look, just get whatever you need to do over with.”

“Kiri, it doesn’t work like that I need to ask you some questions. If you’d be more comfortable with Rand here or with another woman … “

“Isn’t this bad enough?! Just ask your questions.”

“OK. When was the last day of your … “

“Well, that’s a pretty useless question. Like I tried to tell everyone yesterday my calendar is just fine. I feel fine. There is nothing wrong with me.”

Ken finally sat back and crossed his arms. “Being pregnant is not the same thing as having something wrong with you. And while it isn’t normal to have a pseudo-cycle after you’ve gotten pregnant, it isn’t abnormal either. One or two months of break through spotting is actually what is normal for some women.”

“I told you … “

“Yes. I heard what you said. Kiri, for a person your age your body has taken a lot of abuse. Rand told me that sometimes your scars even still hurt. In particular you had a recent episode that dropped you to your knees.”

“Well gee whiz, I told him not to say anything.”

“He’s worried about you.”

“Look. It hasn’t happened in a while but it has happened before. I stretched the scar the wrong way or something. No biggie.”

“Kiri. Just let me do an external exam. If I don’t find anything then we’ll just keep a watch on things and see how they go. I’d give you a pregnancy test but there aren’t any left in town. But since there aren’t we’re back to the old fashioned way of doing things.”

So I figured I might has well give in and just get it over with but I refused to do it gracefully. It was pushing on areas a little lower than I was at all comfortable with and taking his time about it. When he pulled out that little tape measure thing I was starting to get really bothered. He wrote a few things down on his note pad and then had me sit up.

“Kiri. Are you absolutely positive that your cycles have been normal?”

“I told you they were. Well, one was a little late a couple of months ago but everything has been normal since then. It was just nerves because of the bandits and some other stuff that was going on.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t change the fact that … Kiri you better sit down.”

“I don’t want to sit down. This is getting to be ridiculous. Come on. Surely I’d know?”

“Kiri, I measured you three times and each time it is saying that you are fourteen weeks along.”

That’s the last thing I remember until I came around to hear Rand hollering at Ken and then calling my name while he sat in the floor holding me. All I kept thinking was that he better stop it because my pants weren’t zipped and they were sliding down.

I finally was able to get his attention and all three of us sat in the floor, me in Rand’s lap, while Ken explained that when I thought I had stretched my scar by turning wrong it was likely my insides putting pressure on the scar. This was his big concern, that without a sonogram or whatever you call ‘ems that my messed up insides might start giving me problems and he wanted me to stop lifting and tugging and pulling stuff. I nearly hit the roof again but instead started crying because I had a whole garden to get planted and there were so many other things we needed to do.

I don’t even remember Ken leaving I was in such a daze. I barely remember going to be to be honest.

Next day wasn’t any easier. I made it worse by sliding back into denial. Rand wanted to go tell his Uncle George and I just came all unglued on him. How could he and it’s no one’s business and I don’t like to remember what all I said. I was pretty awful and I’ve spent most of today apologizing and then crying about it. I’m lucky that Rand has decided to put it all down to unexplainable female hormones and is giving me a complete pass on being such a donkey’s south end.

Truthfully it was really bad yesterday. Rand even slept on the sofa because we’d had another bitter argument when he wouldn’t let me go out and help in the garden. He got pretty nasty that time asking me if I was trying to do something to lose the baby on purpose or something. I wasn’t but what hurt was that he could think I would. He said he really didn’t but was just so scared the worst thing he could think of came out of his mouth before he really thought it through. I guess we are both pretty shook up over it.

I had a bad dream in the middle of the night and woke myself up but when I rolled over and remembered that Rand wasn’t there I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I got up and fumbled my way into the living room and then started sniveling and crying and woke Rand up. He said he wasn’t asleep but he was snoring loud enough that I didn’t need a lamp to find him in the dark.

Rand carried me back to bed and we talked the rest of the night and ironed some things out. I fell asleep after he got up to take care of the animals and let them in their pens. I woke up nauseous and it took me a while to get started. By the time I was dressed Ken had come by again and he and Rand were on the porch talking. I felt really bad and apologized for the way I had been acting.

“Don’t even worry about it. It was a shock and everybody has to come to terms with shocks in their own way and in their own time. But now that you’ve really accepted things Kiri I want to sit down and talk about a few things.”

So we did. “If this was before I’d be able to give you lots of attention and prenatal vitamins too. But its not and I don’t have a thing I can give you. Pregnancy isn’t a sickness but you still need to be sure and treat yourself right because treating yourself right means you’re treating your baby right. I want you to drink at least an full glass of milk a day. And eat some of that cheese you make as well. You need to make sure and keep your calcium up. If you get a chance to eat liver, do it. That will be your iron and your folic acid. Speaking of folic acid, here’s a list of foods to eat if you can get them. Folic acid is very important with fetal development. Rand, here is a list for you. She experiences any of these symptoms come and get me lickety split. But for those last ones on the list don’t leave her alone. You’ll have to work out how you are going to pull that off. I’ll add you all onto my regular rounds but you’ve got a long way to go before this baby is going to be ready to be born.”

“I still don’t understand how I can really be three months along without … I mean … “ I stumbled to a stop.

Rand asked, “Yeah. She’s as small as she ever was. Missy, Laurabeth, and Alicia were all looking pregnant by this point.”

“Well, Kiri works hard and some of that is going to have to stop, or at least slow down some. Nature will take care of that shortly but you need to start doing it now. And some of it may be that scarring.” He looked at me and said, “If feel any more of that stretching I want you to stop what you are doing and sit down for a bit. We don’t know how your previous injuries are going to impact this pregnancy. You’re young and healthy and you have a good head on your shoulders. Use some commonsense and says your prayers. Faith will get you through no matter what happens. And no, get that look off your face. I didn’t mean I expect anything bad, just that we don’t know and because we don’t know we can’t assume anything. We are just going to have to have patience. The fact that you haven’t had any problems up to this point is a good thing.”

After the pastor left Rand asked, “It’s a pretty fine day, you want to clear the cobwebs away and go for a buggy ride?”

We hitched Bud to a little two-seater surrey similar to Pastor Ken’s that Rand had managed to refurbish. The buggy top was still in bad shape but the rest of it had been fixed. It looked repaired, but repaired by someone who cared about how it looks if you know what I mean. The seat was a lot better than the wagon seat that is for sure.

We drove by Momma O’s and I asked Rand if he’d turn around and let me stop for a minute. Turns out that Mrs. Withrow was visiting with some of the other Auxiliary ladies; they were trading seeds. I stuck my head in the parlor and nearly pulled it back out again but I’d been seen. I didn’t need to say a word. Mrs. Withrow and Momma O both came over and wrapped me in hugs and wouldn’t let me even get my apology out.

“Don’t you worry about it child. We understand, maybe better than you think. Are you out buggy riding?”

“Yes ma’am. I don’t want to leave Rand standing too long. I just wanted to say … “

“I told you not to worry about it. My lands you’re a hard headed girl. I’m not so old that I don’t remember what it was like. Now go on and get. He’s looking like he’s needing his feathers smoothed down.”

I got off lighter than I should and that’s a fact. I would never been forgiven like this before. Aunt Wilma either ignored me or froze me out until she decided I’d had enough and that she was still giving me more leniency than I deserved. I was rotten to her sometimes but maybe I would have been able to conquer some of what was wrong with me if she would have been a bit different in the way she handled me. Who knows?

Rand and I knew it would be all over in no time now so we took off for the Crenshaw place to try and beat the gossips. Uncle George sat down on a hay bale and just said, “Well, I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later.” And then he shook Rand’s hand all manly and stuff. Guys. I guess it means something but don’t ask me what. Missy of course had something to say and I don’t know who was blushing more, Rand or me. Bill chucked her under the chin and then whispered something in her ear and then it was Missy’s turn to blush and she left us alone after that. Alicia couldn’t have been more pleased and Laurabeth was nice about it too. Mick and Johnny looked like their eyes were about to fall out of their heads.

It’s a good thing that we came when we did because sure enough before we left someone had said something to someone and we were getting congratulations from folks arriving to go into the trade shack. I don’t guess I’ll ever understand how gossip travels as fast as it does. Don’t bother with a telegraph, just tell a busybody.

And now we’re home and snugged up. Rand says we’ll put seeds in the ground tomorrow but from the look on his face there are going to be a few new rules that I’m not sure but that I have any choice but to live with at this point. Rand’s being so careful of me and that’s just about to drive me up a wall. We’re going to have to do something about that. I may be pregnant but I’m still me. I don’t think anything is ever going to change that.
 

 

[Dosadi]

Well guess I need to go look at supper since I hit the end. Or maybe if I hit refresh I'll find some more?

Crosses fingers.

 

[Laurane]

What with "Sandy" and all I can see how you might be distracted by other crises......but you know you have an audience anticipating much MOAR!!......gibsmedat!!!....please.

 

[Sully]

I hate to catch up with a story. I think I'll start waiting for one to be finished before I start reading it. I'm too impatient but I know the writers also have real lives too.
Kathy, I really enjoy this story! Would it be selfish of me to ask for more, more, more? Pleeeze!

Sully

 

[Kathy in FL]

I've had quite a bit going on for the last couple of weeks and with the holidays coming ... and to be honest we are doing some serious "galt" kind of stuff to address the mess that is coming in 2013 ... so I've beeen crazy busy. I want to thank those that have PM'd me and emailed me wondering if I was ok. To be honest I am having a hard time coming back from the virus I had. I see the light but I feel so behind where I need to be in preps and holiday planning. I will finish the stories as soon as I can. Life is just what it is. I will finish posting this one since it is complete and has already been published before and will get back to the others as soon as I can deal with some real life stuff. Thanks for understanding.

-----------------------------

Chapter 71

January 4th – The thoughts in my head are too big. And Rand is driving me up a wall. He acts like I’m going to break or something. He tried to set me a bedtime. He freaked out because the smell of his coffee had me running out the door and gagging. I was petting Fraidy and he started pointing at that list Ken gave him, twitching and saying something about taxoplassomethingorother. I’d finally had enough when I took the dustpan outside to empty it and then bent over to pick out one of my bobbie pins that I had accidentally swept up. Talking about swept up … he ran over, picked me up and took me into the house asking if I was all right so fast over and over that I couldn’t get a word in edgewise to answer him. When he finally put me down on the bed I grabbed a pillow and smashed it on his head. That got him to stop talking long enough for me to ask him what his damage was all of a sudden.

As much as this whole having a baby thing has my nerves in a knot I’m beginning to think that Rand is taking it harder than I am. I’d laugh if I wasn’t afraid that he was going to give himself a stroke or something. I mean, all of this happened and it wasn’t even lunch time yet.

Rand knew it was bad when I was the one pushing for us to talk it out. I hate confrontations. I’m always afraid he is going to misunderstand me and I’m going to say the wrong thing and make whatever the problem is worse. But this time I really was at the end of my rope. He was making me so nervous I itched all over like I was about to pop out in hives.

I asked him how I was suddenly a different person from the one I was a couple of days before. It was hardly a week since I’d been in a tussle with that Lucretia woman.

“God Kiri, don’t remind me. What if you’d been hurt?!”

“I did get banged up. It wasn’t the freaking end of the world Rand. I’ll be more careful from here on out. I know I need to and I will be to the best of my ability. But … you can’t lock me up and keep me from living. They tried to do that to me after the accident. It didn’t help me, it only hurt.. I mean, I know I don’t have all the answers and haven’t got all this being pregnant stuff figured out, but I know if … if I can’t still be me … Rand, don’t you understand? I am still me. You’re asking me to be someone else and … and I don’t think I can be. I don’t know if I want to be.”

Rand was running his fingers through his hair and grabbing it and making it all stand on end worse than it usually does. “Kiri, I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. I put up with a lot of stuff up to now, but you can’t ask me to not worry and want to do the best I can for you and the … the baby. You … you heard those stories of those two women who died. You saw Alicia at Christmas. She’s still recovering and the baby is, I don’t know, weeks old at least.”

“I know Rand. It’s there in the back of my head.”

“Well it’s in the front of mine and I can’t think of anything else! My God! There aren’t even any hospitals or anything. What if something goes wrong?”

“You don’t need a hospital to have a baby. My own mother was born at home Rand and she weighed ten pounds and my grandmother was way smaller a woman than I am even. Both my grandmothers were thirteen when they got married. Momma was sixteen. Every one of them were just teenagers when they had their first babies. I’m from that kind of stock … like those cows out there … a hardy, country breed.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You are not comparing yourself to a dang old cow?!”

“Oh stop Rand. I was trying to make you laugh.”

“Well, it’s not funny. None of this is.”

“So. You were mad at me because you thought I didn’t want a baby with you. Now you’re acting like it is you who doesn’t want the baby.”

“I … I mean … It’s not that I don’t want the baby. I’ve been thinking about us having kids. It just happened so quick. It’s a lot to take in. We were being careful.”

“I thought so too. I guess God decided he didn’t care if we thought we were being careful or not,” I told him. “Rand, it is what it is. And I am who I am. Don’t ask me to just roll over and suddenly be somebody else – some wimpy, helpless thing – just because I’ve got a baby in my belly.”

“Argh!”

“Rand?!”

“Kiri, maybe I can … I don’t know … calm down about it some but you have got to help by not … not … “

“By not getting into so many scrapes?”

“God yes! I can’t stand to think of some of the things that you’ve been up to over the last three months and then realize you were pregnant while it was going on. If something had happened … I know it’s selfish Babe but … I just wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself, go on living. I can barely breathe thinking about when the VRC …” When he started moaning and groaning I snuggled up close to him.

“Rand. I wish I could tell you I would have done something different but I don’t know that I would have. You are just as important to me as you are saying that I am to you. But … if it is me that is so important to you then you are going to have to let me go on being me.”

“I don’t want you to change, I just want to keep you safe, you and the baby!”

“I know that. But … the way you are doing it … We’ve only known for a couple of days and I already fell … “

“Feel what? That you don’t want me around?”

“Of course not. I’m just feeling … claustrophobic.”

“You mean trapped and tied down.”

“Did I say trapped or tied down?! I said claustrophobic and that’s what I mean. Why? Are you feeling trapped and tied down?”

“No! Of course not!”

“Then why do you think I would feel that way?!”

“I don’t know! Missy said … “

“Oh, here we go. Stop listening to Missy … and Laurabetth and Alicia and all those other females. I’m not them. I’ll never be them. I’m me! And since I don’t plan on letting you escape you are just going to have to learn to put up with it!!!” I ended up yelling even though I hadn’t meant to even start.

I thought I’d gone too far. Rand kept inhaling like he was going to say something only nothing was coming out. His mouth was moving but no sound. I had visions of a major explosion and was getting ready to cry when all of a sudden he started laughing. And then he scooped me up and sat down with me in his lap and just never mind the rest. We made up real nice.

I think we are still on a learning curve as some of my teachers would have said. Rand is still watching me like a hawk but it feels different when he does it. I don’t feel like I have to be so on guard. His looks feel like a … a … a caress and not so much like a poke at my commonsense. I don’t feel like I have to constantly defend myself from his caring. I’m not sure that makes sense but that is how I feel.

I know Rand and I need to sit down and talk about more stuff but I didn’t feel like another fight right after we had made up from this one. We never fought so much as we have the last couple of days. I hope it isn’t like this the whole time, I really will turn into a puking machine.


January 5th – It’s bizarre. I’m able to forget that we’re having a baby for a little while and then I’ll do something and think something like, “In a couple of months I won’t even be able to get close enough to the counter to make biscuits ‘cause I’m pregnant.” Or, “It won’t be long before I won’t be able to see to tie my boots because I’m pregnant.” The hardest was realizing that I’m going to start busting out of my clothes and I don’t have anything to wear. I wonder if Momma has any patterns for maternity clothes. It is so weird to think about.

But at least I don’t have to think about it all the time. It’s just there when I am ready to think about it. That’s not so bad. Besides there are a ton of other things we need to think about … and do.

Today we got the garden planted. Rand hovered a little bit but it wasn’t too awful. It works a lot better when we prep the garden the day or two before we plant. This means that we can plant more seeds on planting day. We planted celery, cauliflower, mustard greens, onions, English peas, white potatoes, spinach, turnips, beets, broccoli, cabbage, carrots, Chinese cabbage, collard greens, kale, kohlrabi, lettuce, romaine, mustard greens, green onions, English peas, potatoes, radish, and turnips. We put some opaque row covers on some of the stuff. On others we put two-liter soda bottles that have had the bottom cut out of them. It looks a little dorky but the bottles should act like mini-greenhouses. In another area we put this frame that Rand built on skids. The wood frame is covered with heavy duty plastic. It looks like a green house on sled rails and we can move it up and down rows as we need it or we can push it out of the way.

I can’t wait until some of this stuff comes up, I’m dying for fresh stuff especially greens. We are growing some of the some of the greens in cold frames made from old window frames. I’m so desperate for something fresh that I’d eat the flowers out of my garden if they were ready. Marigolds, nasturtiums, chive blossoms, violas, pansies, and even rose petals are all edible. Once I started thinking about a fresh salad it was terribly hard to stop; I guess this is what you call a craving. I’d heard that the Crenshaw girls had had a few cravings, some of them strange. Personally I don’t think eating flowers is strange but I’m sure I would get a few looks if I mentioned it to the wrong folks.

Since we didn’t have anything fresh I opened a jar of the canned slaw I had done last year. It wasn’t quite as good if it had been fresh but I sure wasn’t going to complain about it. Rand seemed to enjoy it too and I didn’t feel like I was being strange when he said that he was eager for the fresh veggies to start coming in too. It gets old eating dried, canned, smoked, or salted stuff all the time.

The hardest thing about today? Planting those potatoes. I wanted a baked potato so bad but they weren’t the kind that was good for baking though I could have. And they were smallish, not the big Idaho potatoes you used to get in the restaurants. These were “junk” potatoes, or seconds, I would guess. I haven’t a clue where Ram even got them. I hope he didn’t swipe them off of a supply truck. Ram means well but he can be when he is determined he can … well, never mind. I suppose I should ask him next time I see him.


January 6th – Rained a little today but that was good for the plants. Cows aren’t giving as much milk. Rand said it is because the calves aren’t drinking as much so we’ll need to go back to two milkings to keep their supply up. Add that to the chore list. Rand and I made a compromise; he would do the morning milking to give my stomach time to settle and I could do the evening milking. At least he didn’t try and stop me all together; he just wants me to be careful if the cows decide to do some kicking.

I was working on laundry when I heard the clatter of a buggy. I went to the window and saw Brendon helping Mrs. Withrow down. I was expecting company but when I went to the door the first thing out of Mrs. Withrow’s mouth was, “I don’t want a fuss, I just wanted to come by and see how you were and since Brendon was coming over to see Rand anyway I begged a ride.”

I had her come inside and asked if she minded sitting in the kitchen since a fire was already going in the stove in there. “Lands no child. You don’t need to stand on formality with me.”

Formal or not I was a little embarrassed that there were a couple of dishes in the dishpan and no tablecloth on the table. The table cloth was in the load that was soaking and the dishes were from my later than normal breakfast. I threw a dishtowel over the dishes real quick and then put the kettle on the stove top to heat. I didn’t have anything but cornbread to go with it but I sliced a little and put fresh butter and honey on the table to drizzle over it.

“Well, this is nice. You have a neat and tidy place here. I vaguely remember your mother you know. She came to one of the Quilt Guild shows after they first built this place.”

“I didn’t know. Momma liked to go to the Quilt Shoppe over in Trenton every time we came up here. She’d go in the shop and Daddy would take brother and I walking on the bike trail that was by the old train depot.”

“I’m sorry to say I don’t think I ever met your father. He sounds like he was a good man,” she said and then stopped only to start back up again. “Child … well, I’m not quite sure how to start without it sounding pathetic. You know I’m a widow. I was Mr. Withrow’s second wife, he’s first left him when he got religion and changed all his ways. He had two boys from his first marriage and we had three boys together. I’d always wanted a girl and finally decided I’d have to wait for the boys to marry. But only two of the five married and of those two only one stuck and they never lived close. The two grandchildren we were blessed with were both boys as well. One turned out to have lots of problems and I haven’t heard from him in over ten years. My other grandson is a good boy but he lives out west someplace. The girl he married couldn’t have children but they adopted a couple of boys that belonged to her sister that died in a car wreck. We exchanged Christmas and birthday cards, and I’d get the occasional school picture, but I haven’t heard from them since the flu got real bad. Stevie had some land out there and was into all that survivalism stuff that was on the television the last couple of years. I expect they are doing well enough eating all of that rice and those beans he was forever buying.”

I didn’t have a clue where this was heading so I just let her talk.

“Well a day, makes me sound like a lonesome old woman but I haven’t been. I’ve lived a good life and then some. Had a few adventures and more than my share of blessings along the road including a good man that I was married to for over forty years and whom I am sure I will see again in Heaven. But I’m still here and I am now a woman on my own and as such I need to deal with my own business. And part of that business is that I don’t have anyone to pass my things along to when the time comes. I had thought to leave them to DeLois and that young daughter in law she now has, even started to make our a will to that effect but I’ve changed my mind. I thought about leaving it to George’s girls but that Missy would only put it in the trading post and Laurabeth already has her hands full with what is in her father’s house not to mention what came from Jonathon’s parents’ home before it was burned down. I gave serious consideration to Alicia, she is a sweet girl, but it is some time off before she and Brendon have a house of their own and when they do they’ll fill it with things that Alicia has from her family. I didn’t know what I was going to do until recently. Nothing I thought of gave me any peace. Then you come along and I know exactly what I want to do if you’ll help me.”

“I’ll do what I can ma’am but I’m not sure how I can help.”

“Well, for starters, I’m getting too old to take care of the house. There’s a young couple one farm over living with his folks and all his siblings in crowded conditions. The boy was a favorite of m’ husband when he was still teaching up at the highschool. I know they’d appreciate the house and take care of it. I’ve been renting the land to his Daddy for a number of years anyway so it’s not like things would really change all that much. But that brings me to a problem. I’ve lived in that house for over fifty years and my husband lived there his whole life as it was his parents’ home. There is over a hundred years of accumulations in that house.”

“If you need some help cleaning things up I’m sure Rand won’t pitch a fit over that. Anything we need to move we could get Mick and Tommy to help with or Rand when he came to pick me up.”

“Child, I don’t just want some help cleaning the old place up, I want someone I can give stuff to.” At the look on my face she laughed, “Lands girl, I don’t mean to dump all of it on you but my quilts and such and some other things, well, when it’s my time I want to know that the person they go to will appreciate them for what they are.”

Rand had come in at that point and I’m glad. I’m not sure I would have ever come up with something to say.

“Mrs. Withrow, are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

“Son, I’m sure you remember how sick I was three years ago. I’ve never gotten my full strength back. I’m not getting any younger either. I don’t have any plans on dying tomorrow but I’m not privy to God’s plans on the subject. I just want to find some peace on a subject that has been worrying at me for some time. I prayed that the Lord would present me a solution and I believe He has, but I won’t force it on you.”

Next Tuesday, if the weather is appropriate, I’ll go “visiting” at Mrs. Withrow’s and I’ll help her to start downsizing. As soon as the house is squared away, she plans on moving into a smaller building her husband used to use as his office space that is a converted detached garage about a quarter mile down the road from the main house. Rand will time my visits to Mrs. Withrow to coincide when he is working at Uncle George’s over over in the area cutting hay, plowing, or whatever. Several people have asked him what he would trade for an hour or a day worth of work with the mules. If Rand was looking for work he wouldn’t have to look far and now it looks like I’ve found a bit of work for myself.

After she and Brendon left I finished the laundry that could be dried before the sun went down and fixed Seafood Delight using some of the cans of stuff that Ram left us and some tea-sized cornmeal biscuits for our supper. I made a little potato chowder from my LTS dried soup mixes but if I’d had it canned, or maybe some corn chowder, I could have used that instead. To the potato chowder I added a six ounce can of crabmeat and a six ounce can of shrimp both of which were drained and a third of a cup of dry bread crumbs from the toast I couldn’t finish at breakfast. I dumped that into a baking dish and sprinkled it with about another cup of dry bread crumbs from a loaf of bread that didn’t rise when I was baking it. I sliced the bread thin and then dried it like melba toast and then when it was cool I ran the toast over a grater.

The Seafood Delight baked in a 350 degree F oven for thirty minutes and came out all nice and bubbly. The biscuits went really well with the super rich seafood dish. Rand really like it so I gave him the rest of mine. It tasted good but I’m not sure that maybe it was a little too rich for my taste.

During supper Rand said, “Brendon brought some harsh news. Hiram Gilkins is dead.”

“Who?”

“The father of those three little kids that you made the coats for.”

“That woman … Lucretia … her huband? The one that drinks?”

“Yeah, that’s him … or was. The way Brendon tells it she sent one of the kids over to the still to tell their daddy to get up off his lazy backside and cut some wood for the fireplace. The kid comes back and says that Hiram is asleep. She says fine, let him sleep. He was higher than a kite and too drunk to wake himself up. In the morning, one of her husband’s drinking buddies shows up and finds that he has died in the night … of hypothermia. She left him there to freeze to death.”

“Oh no! How on earth is she going to get her children back now?”

“I don’t think she’s too worried about that. From what has been said she hasn’t asked after the children even once; sure hasn’t been by to see them or do a thing for them.”

“That’s a lot of ‘they say.’ I can’t imagine anyone would … I take that back. I can. I saw too much of it in foster care. Is it for sure that the brother is going to keep the children?”

“Oh yeah. He and his wife wanted to adopt them before now. I remember he tried to get the law on it but that was back when things were really falling to pieces. He and his wife decided not to have children of their own because she has something genetic in her family, I think it is that stuff they used to have the big telethon for around Memorial Day. Brendon said that the only problem now is the that the kids are scared their mother is going to come steal them away and they’ll have to go live with her again.”

“Could she?”

“I doubt she would. She already has the Lemuel … Lemuel … I can’t think of his last name right now. Anyway, he ain’t living with her just as a friend if you know what I mean. I know we moved kind of fast but that beats all I’ve ever seen. The dirt hadn’t even settled on her husband’s grave.”

I suppose it takes all types but that is a type I’d rather not have to deal with if I don’t have to. After dinner Rand and I went out to the barn together; he took care of putting the animals to bed and I milked the cows. Rand was right, the cows weren’t giving near as much milk as they had been but it is still much more than we need.

We came back in and while Rand cleaned up from working outside I finished the dishes and set them in the drainer to dry, banked the fire in the stove and refilled the water reservoir and by that time I was just flat tired. Rand came out of the shower, saw how I felt and offered to scrub my back. Who can turn an offer like that down. I caught him looking and all he said was, “I don’t see any difference. It’s hard to imagine there is a baby growing right there.”

I really don’t feel different. Mentally yes but aside from being sick and a little more tired than normal I’m having a hard really believing that I’m as pregnant as Ken says I am. Oh, I believe him but maybe I’m not as far along as he thinks I am. If I am we’ll have a baby to take care of come July. That sounds like a long time from now but I have a feeling it is going to sneak up on us a lot quicker than we’re ready for.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 72

January 9th – Nothing much happened Sunday or Monday. Rand and I talked so much at night that I didn’t have any time (or inclination) left to journal; but the time was well spent, we are not quite so much like a pair of Betta fish willing to fight over everything including our own reflection.

About the only things I guess I should note is that we wrote down on our calendar that I’m now officially fourteen weeks pregnant (yikes!) and that we harvested some parsnips that we’d let stay in the ground until after the first frost. The parsnips were good and I even managed to can some of them though I put the canner on the stove before filling it with water and jars. I felt some of that stretching again on my inside but not as bad. I suppose I should say something to Ken next time he gives me a check up. I’m not going to say anything to Rand unless it gets bad again; there is no sense in worrying him for no reason.

It was nice to have a couple of semi-boring days. I like boring. Boring is good after all the excitement of the last few weeks. We didn’t even have a church service since it was an off week. Rand and I have decided that on the Sundays we don’t have a church service, or can’t go to one that is scheduled, we will study on our own. We made a commitment to it; we are trying to be more mature about things like that now that we are going to be parents and have to train up a kid of our own.

I hadn’t planned on today being very exciting since I was just going to go help Mrs. Withrow clean her house and help fetch and carry what she wants to take to her new little house but I suppose it was exciting enough. A little bit like Christmas in a way and a little bit weird and spooky at the same time. It reminded me too much of when my grandparents died and the kids were deciding who got what … all I cared about was that my grandparents were dead, deciding what to do with the stuff they left behind just made it hurt more.

It was about nine o’clock when Rand dropped me off at the Withrow place. “Don’t you two ladies do any moving of anything heavy. I’ll be back around tea time and I’ll do what I can and I’ll talk Uncle George around to letting Mick and Tommy come by and do what I can’t finish.”

Mrs. Withrow arched her eyebrow and asked, “Rand Joiner, are you really telling me what to do in my own house?”

Rand got red in the face but answered, “Not for a bad reason Mrs. Withrow. I just don’t want y’all to get hurt or anything.”

“Humph. Well, since your reasons are pure I’ll let you slide this time,” and she smiled to let Rand know she had got him a good one.

After Rand left, shaking his head, Mrs. Withrow turned to me and said, “I have a plan for how I want this done in my head but if you’ve got any suggestions along the way you sing out child. I want to decide what to take to the little house first and that should make us some room to work with. From there I’ll decide what has to go and where.”

“Sounds like a plan to me. Where do you want to start?”

“Hmm. Let’s go down to the little house and I’ll show you how it is set up and we’ll take some measurements. I meant to do it yesterday but the Rearson baby climbed out of its crib and got into the fireplace ashes. The daddy came got me to sit with his wife while he ran for the Pastor.”

As we walked the few feet to the little house I asked, “Is the baby all right?”

“Will be, praise God, though his hands don’t look too pretty right now. The ashes weren’t red hot but they were still more than warm; it gave everyone a good scare. Mind you I still don’t understand why they would have left the crib unattended like that where there was a fireplace with no screen. Which reminds me, I saw you had a nice set of glass doors on your fireplace but I don’t know if you have any screens for your stove. There are a couple of good strong ones in the upstairs bedrooms if you don’t. You need something once a baby starts crawling. My boys would get into everything. We had to put Ernst – he was our youngest – in a harness and tie it to a door knob or post to keep him from pulling things down on himself. His brothers used to be awful and walk him like a dog but we didn’t know what else to do, the baby gates they had back then were just something for him to knock down or climb over. We tried every high chair we could afford and that little Houdini still managed to escape. The harness was the only thing he couldn’t get out of. Of course I had my mother’s revenge when Stevie turned out to be just like his daddy if not worse. There was one time we came home to find that Rupert – our oldest – had gotten so frustrated babysitting that he had put Ernst in a dog crate and locked it shut.”

Mrs. Withrow told stories on her family all day. It sounds like it was a zoo raising five boys. Hope my baby isn’t like that although with my luck it will be and then some. It didn’t take long for us take the measurements that she wanted. If Mrs. Withrow is a slower version of what she used to be I can’t imagine how she must have bustled before she got sick a couple of years back. I’m not ashamed to say it took everything I had to keep up with her.

The little house needs it all, from curtains to bedding to kitchen ware to just everything. Well, everything except furniture that is, there is already some in the front room and in the back room that is set up like a bedroom. The one thing the little place doesn’t have is indoor plumbing but Mrs. Withrow told me, “Oh I have plans to take care of that too. Dixon Ayers and his son are coming by during the week and they are going to close in that little niche over there that is formed by the closet my husband added when our sons would come visit more often. We never got around to adding a bathroom because of the expense but the plumbing was actually dug and laid to an old dry barrel, we just never hooked it up. Dixon checked and it looks like it is still there, all I need is to find a toilet and he’ll hook everything up. And under that little counter in the front room in the kitchen space, there is the pipe for the pump handle. That’s another one of Mr. Withrow’s projects that never got finished.”

We left and she locked the place up. “I’ll get Rand to trade the mattress on the bedframe for mine. I’ll want my treadle and a couple of my chests and cabinets to hold my patterns and material in. And I want my chair and my rocker brought down and maybe a couple of foot stools. I’ll use that side table by the window to eat at, the one sitting by the pot belly stove … thank goodness Mr. Withrow never went through with his plans to take it out … I’ll have to see how much room I have after that.”

Once we got back to the house we started going through her linen cabinets. She took sets of everything … bed linens, tablecloths, two sets of curtains and sheers for each room, a week’s worth of bath linens, same for kitchen linens, pillows and some other odds and ends. “We’ll take this down – we’ll use the hand cart there by the porch if you’ll fetch it around here – hopefully we can get it in one load. I’m going to give myself a week to get the little house situated before I move in. That’ll give me time to think and be sure of what I want to do.”

The linens took two loads and then came her clothes. My goodness, I never knew anyone but movie stars could have so many. It was mostly because she made her own clothes and they were of such good quality and taken care of that they didn’t really wear out. “Lands child, I’m sure you must think I’m the vainest woman alive. Used to be close to it. Look at this dress, at least thirty years out of date and doesn’t fit any more either. Don’t know why I’ve kept it except it took me forever to hand sew all of those little pleats. Let’s clean this closet out and set all these clothes in the front room. We’ll clean out the other closets as we get to those rooms. There are people in our community … some going to our church … that don’t have much more than the clothes on their backs and here I am with all of this just sitting here dry rotting. Lord forgive me.”

Once she had all the linens and clothes down at the house she wanted she turned to me. “Now, when Rand comes back I’m going to have him pull around back through the carriage drive. We’ll put these old shower curtains in the bottom of the wagon and lay things on top of them. I’ve got some old tarps out in the shed and we’ll tie that over the top of everything and it will keep the road dust … and prying eyes … out as you go home.

“Mrs. Withrow you don’t have to give me this stuff to help you.”

“I know that child. I told you, making sure some of my things get good homes is a load off my mind. I’m not just saying that either. I’ve gotten attached to some of this old stuff and it will be a kindness to know someone else will take care of it when I’m gone. If the Lord doesn’t come first and you are blessed to reach my age you’ll understand but until you do trust me on this. While we old folks know that we can’t take it with us when we go, it doesn’t mean we want to leave it behind to just anybody. We may not be blood related but I have a feeling we understand each other. Now … this here closet,” she said opening a pair of double doors in what she called the laundry room, “was put in by my husband’s grandfather after the house was built. It’s a real cedar closet and it is where all the household linens not in immediate use were kept. My mother in law started using it for her fine linens, table cloths and quilts and I continued the practice. I’m going to take a few of these quilts with me and I want to gift a couple to other people but the majority of them I want you to take home with you.”

“Mrs. Withrow! There … there are … “

“I know child. I’ve been doing this my whole life and my grandmother and mother in law before me. If I’d had any sense I would have put some of these old quilts in the raffle back before, but I didn’t so here they are.”

We made piles … more stuff for the little house, stuff she was setting aside, and stuff she meant for me to take home. Next we moved into the bathrooms. “I’ve got all the bath towels and such that I need.”

“So do we.”

“So you think. What do you plan on using for diapers.”

I opened my mouth but it just sort of hung there swinging in the breeze.

“Uh huh, that’s what I thought. Now towels won’t be as good as real cloth diapers but beggars can’t be choosers. You take all of these and you can cut them down to the size you need. They’ll also be good for making baby clothes with. And slippers until they are big enough for whatever you wind up using for shoes.”

It was like that everywhere we turned. I’d think of a reason why we had enough and Mrs. Withrow would show me a reason we probably didn’t. The morning was gone and we’d only covered the linens, including most of her quilting supplies.

“I’m going to set some of this aside to put with the Ladies’ Auxiliary’s supplies. Christmas may only come once a year but charity should last all year long. You know what fat quarters are child?” At my affirmative nod she continued, “I expected you did. I’ve got boxes of these things tucked all over the house. Can’t even remember what I’ve got any more. After the boys grew up and moved away I had too much time on my hands and I got a little silly with my allowance. If a piece of material was on sale I had to have it. Lord a mercy, what I could have done with all that money if I had it back to spend when groceries started going up so fierce. Anytime you find a box of materialjust put it in the parlor and I’ll go through the pieces later. Any sewing notions you find put them by my sewing box in the same room. I’ll go through them later as well.”

We had a nice lunch of these little pie thingies … like a meat pie but all filled with vegetables. After eating and cleaning up we went to work in the kitchen.

“I already know what dishes I want to take and have moved them into that cabinet over there so don’t bother with tanking anything out of that one. I also want my every day tea service and my small cast iron pieces, but I want you to take the company tea service and the bigger cast iron pieces home. I can’t lift ‘em anymore anyway. Even if I could I have no reason to use anything that big anymore. As I recall Rand is hollow from the feet up and you could likely use some bigger cookware.”

I couldn’t deny Rand’s appetite, it’s pretty legendary. How he can eat like he does and stay so thin I’ll never know. If there was food for it he’d probably graze all day long. I started having to piece out the baking or it seemed to just disappear before it was time to get another baking done.

The pile for us to take home kept growing as we went over the house in a first pass … sad irons; hot irons used to warm your sheets before you climb in bed; cast iron trivets; all sorts of glassware, pewter, speckleware, something called Depression Glass and Carnival glass, fancy dishes, and silverware; canning jars, crocks, and stoneware; bottles and jars; trays and platters; just about anything that you can imagine as far as houseware and kitchenware. To be honest there was plenty of junk there too. Old melamine dishes, electric clocks of all shapes and sizes, Avon perfume bottles in more shapes than I thought possible, gifts and awards she and her husband had received over their many years of community service and teaching … just stuff upon stuff upon stuff. A lot of it was interesting but I had to keep myself from cringing in fear when she’d run across something that seemed to me to be completely useless even if it was kind of cute. But Mrs. Withrow is smart, she kept her sentimental stuff, set some of the silly stuff aside to think about, and then the useless stuff went into another room all together.

Eventually we made our way through the house. “You likely have quite a few pattern books from your Momma so I’m going to donate these … and my husband’s library … to the Ladies Auxiliary. One of those storefronts next to where we will be having church services from now on is going to be turned into a lending library. Ada Chilton and her two sons are going to move into the living space above the shop – it used to be a dry goods store back when I was a girl – to keep an eye on things. Now, I know you are gonna think I’ve lost my mind but I want you and Rand to take that old wind up record player over there. My father in law had a huge collection of those old 78’s and 33’s and … you … you do know what a record is don’t you child?”

“It’s a big black disk they used to record music on.” My parents had had a load of them but the few I found up in the bonus rooms when I was cleaning up there were warped from the heat since they hadn’t been stored flat for several years.

“Well, thank goodness. Do you know some of my Sunday School students had no idea what those were last time I had a party out here. They wanted to know how to play CDs on it. Anyway, there’s a box of vinyls … the old name for records … in the cabinet that it is sitting on. And someplace around here I have my son’s battery operated record player that they used to take down to the springs when they’d have their parties; it might still work.”

It was getting towards time when Rand was supposed to pick me up so she said we’d just take a quick peak up in the attic before I left.

Momma had a cousin that used to exclaim “Oh my stars and garters!” when she saw a mess or something outrageous. I always thought she was being silly on purpose to break the tension, but I have to say that when we got to the top of the attic stairs and I looked around at the mess up there I nearly said it out loud myself. Right around the stairs it wasn’t too bad. There were boxes labeled for holiday decorations mostly, but the further away from the stairs you got the deeper the dust got until by the time I was looking as far back as the light would carry shapes were only vaguely recognizable under who knows how many generations of dust bunnies.

In a pretty big understatement Mrs. Withrow said, “Well … I do believe I had forgotten just how big a mess it is up here. We certainly have our work cut out for us.”

Mrs. Withrow is lucky I didn’t turn tail and run after I’d taken my first look. She’s even luckier that I didn’t turn tail and run after my second and third looks.

Rand arrived then and was drug upstairs to help bring some of the boxes of decorations down so that Mrs. Withrow could go through them. Then she had Rand bring down a few more things to give her room to look around a bit up there. There was a wash stand with a porcelain bowl and pitcher that she said would fit into an empty corner in her new bedroom, a full length mirror that was missing most of its silvering, a couple of old steamer trunks, and an old wooden card table whose top was warped and rotted and the chairs to match it that were missing their woven bottoms.

“Good Heavens. Looks like I’ll need to have a bonfire in the not too distant future.”

Rand looked thoughtful and then said, “Actually, I might have a better plan. From what I understand there is going to be a meet-and-swap not this Saturday but next. You can either use the stuff you don’t want to trade for stuff you do or you can put it in a pile someplace and hang a sign on it that says ‘free.’”

“Hmm. Won’t do a bit of good unless I can get some help hauling these things. Where is it going to be held?”

“In the park. I think Pastor Ken is hoping to have some kind of mission table or something like that to see who the families are in greatest need.”

“That means the Auxiliary will probably need to set up a table as well to help out. Let me think on it and see if it is even worth the bother. Now boy, you take Kiri on home and help her put this stuff away where she tells you to.” She gave me a hug that caught me off guard and said, “We’ll see each other again soon. Maybe next Tuesday if nothing comes up. That’ll give me time to think and do some planning. Now let’s get your wagon loaded, I hadn’t realized how late it was getting. And Rand, before you go can you light the kitchen stove up for me and bring in some wood from the wood pile?”

We waited until we were half way home before we started laughing. “Lord Kiri, what all is in those boxes and bags?”

“You really don’t want to know. I’m embarrassed by her generosity but I didn’t know how to stop her. She’s something else.”

“You can say that again. When she and Momma O get going at the same time it is a sight to see … or used to be. She’s aged a lot this last year. I think half the reason why I came around and gave up the worst of the stuff that I was getting into is because of those two old couples. If they weren’t meddling in my business they were praying for me. As bad as I was they never gave up on me. I’ll never forget that.”

“I wish … “

“Wish what Babe?”

“Oh … just … I missed that.”

“Missed what?”

“After the accident … I missed … missed … having someone care that way. Mr. Barnes did I guess but not in that everyday kind of way. It makes me think about stuff I’d rather not.”

“Like what? You know if it is bothering you this much you need to talk it out. I … Kiri? Babe? Are you crying?!”

I wiped my eyes, “I don’t know what my problem is lately. Every time I turn around I’m turning into a dang old watering pot!”

“Babe … what is it?”

“Just, it makes me wonder if … you know … something happens to me … to us … who will be there for our baby.”

I pretty much gobsmaked Rand with that idea. Now I wish I hadn’t mentioned it because I can tell he was thinking about it most of the evening when he was supposed to be working on his project plans.

When we got home I was tired and having a hard time shaking off the depression that had hit me out of the blue. I guess Rand had picked up on my mood because he was being sweet and said he’d make dinner. As sweet as the offer was it didn’t make good sense. He had the animals to take care of and we needed the wood boxes refilled before dark set in. I gave him a kiss and said I’d take him up on it another time and then made a pan of cornbread and opened a quart jar of venison vegetable soup for dinner. It was warm and filling, quick to fix and quick to clean up; a winning combination after the day I had had.

After dinner Rand disappeared for a bit and I eventually found him in the room that we’d put all the baby stuff in.

“I’m sorry I brought up bad memories Rand. Sometimes I just … “

“Don’t apologize. I guess it is something we need to think about. We both know what can happen. Bad things happen. But, if you don’t mind Babe I … I just don’t want to think about it right now.”

“Sure. I don’t really want to think about it right now either. Besides, we have your family.”

“That’s the thing, we do but … I never wanted my kid to feel like I did, like … “

He had trailed off so I guessed based on what we’d talked about before and said, “Like you were never quite as good as if you’d been picked on purpose.”

“Yeah … yeah, exactly that. I know Uncle George loves me but I always felt like I was never quite good enough. It wasn’t all the family’s fault but some stuff … I just don’t want that for our baby. I don’t want anything to happen to us at all.”

We gave up doing anything constructive after a while and came in here to our bedroom rather than waste any heat in the rest of the house. Rand fell asleep and I’m finally winding down. I wonder how other couples are handling this. I hadn’t been paying that close attention like I should have thinking it wasn’t going to happen to me for a while.

I just had a thought. What is Ram going to say when he comes by this way again? I don’t know when we’ll see him but the look on his face ought to be hysterical.


January 13th – Haven’t felt much like writing, I’ve been tired. I don’t know if it is a real tired or something I’ve talked myself into now that I now I’m pregnant and that is what pregnant women are supposed to be … tired … tired and emotional. Ick. I don’t like this one bit. I mean, OK, maybe I like the warm fuzzies that I’ve started to get when I think about the baby but the tired and weepy part I can totally do without. I feel like some alien has taken over my body. What gives with that?!

I said as much to Ken when he came by today and did his measuring thing. He said it was normal. The last thing I feel right now is normal. And worst of all? I can’t get my jeans buttoned. It happened yesterday when I was getting dressed in the morning. I just started crying … stupid, stupid. Rand heard me and ran in and then just didn’t get it at all. He laughed. That only made me get mad and cry harder because he didn’t understand. I tried to explain it but I still don’t think he gets it. It’s not like there are any stores I can go to for clothes that are going to fit and I can’t imagine wearing a dress all the time though it may come to that at some point. How I’ll hide my legs if that is all I’m left with I don’t know. Maybe Rand will make me some knee length moccasins.

For now I’m leaving my pants unsnapped and I’m using some cord to hold my pants up. My t-shirt covers everything up and then I have a couple of flannel shirts that I can wear like a jacket over that, at least for a while. Rand was going to sit in on this exam but Mr. Henderson showed up wanting to know if Rand would do some mowing for him so that he could open up another field. So Rand stayed outside talking to Mr. Henderson while Ken and I talked inside.

Ken gave me this booklet that showed all the symptoms and junk that I’m likely feeling depending on how far along I am. It has pictures and everything and Rand has been all over it tonight. He’s looked at it more than I have and I swear he was making notes and using a highlighter like he was studying for a test. Ken says everything looks normal and that now I’m probably going to start showing real fast since I finally started. Lovely. When he went to leave he asked me if there was anything else. I almost didn’t say but figured just in case I had better. So I told him about the stretching feeling. He asked if it was the same kind of feeling that I’ve had in the past and blah, blah, blah.

“I take it this isn’t something that you’ve mentioned to Rand.”

“No. ‘Cause if you want to know the truth I think he’d use just about any excuse to freak out again.”

Pastor Ken laughed, “Well, he’s going to be a father, that’s something worth getting a little wound up about.”

“Humph. A little wound up I could handle. No, I guess you’re right and he is better than he was at first, it’s just that he is worried enough as it is and I’m worried about him thinking he has to do it all and then something going wrong because of that.”

“Well, worrying isn’t going to do either one of you any good.” That’s when he gave me the booklet and told me to just monitor the feelings I’m having and that if they get worse to let him know.

I suppose the booklet did help Rand. He keeps asking me if I know this or that and I keep telling him no. What?! Are girls supposed to just suddenly know this stuff just by osmosis or something? Sure, I guess I feel some instinctual stuff but how the heck would I know that our baby is about four inches long and weighs in at about two ounces. And I don’t know about everyone else but talking about heartburn, indigestion, and constipation hasn’t beem exactly normal after dinner conversation for us and I’d rather it not become the main thing we communicate about.

When he wanted to compare how I looked to the woman in the picture in the booklet I told him I’d had enough questions for the night and unless he wanted me to develop a headache of ginormous proportions he’d find something else to talk about real quick.

He came over and snuggled up and said, “You know I’m only wondering. I thought girls would like it that the guy was involved.”

“There you go again, thinking I’m just like these generic girls you keep mentioning. I’m me … remember?”

“So you don’t want me to be interested?”

“Of course I want you to be interested. I just don’t want you to be interested to the exclusion over everything else. We used to talk about other stuff, listen to the radio, play a game of chess or cards. We haven’t done any of that in a while. I feel like a brood mare. Suddenly being pregnant is all I’m good for.”

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey! That’s not true. Come on Babe, don’t be this way.”

“Look, I know I’m acting like a spoiled brat and I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. Come here, the book says that back rubs make you feel more relaxed.”

You know, on the one hand I’m beginning to hate that booklet … but on occasion it might actually be worth something after all.


January 14th – I swear I never realized how nosey some people can be. Church today was just completely awful. I couldn’t even concentrate on the sermon for all the stares and pointing that was going on. I mean some people just came right out and asked when I had gotten pregnant … like I was going to describe the evening to them in detail.

It’s not like I wasn’t due to have my nose rubbed in it a bit. I guess I’d been a little prideful comparing myself to the women who had got caught pregnant before me, thinking I knew more than I did. So in that sense I understand some of it was just plain consequences. But some of it … sakes alive! If one more person rubs my belly like I’m some good luck charm I’m not going to be responsible for my actions.


January 15th – Rand got a turkey right from the wagon seat as we were coming home from church yesterday; it weighed every bit of sixteen pounds. Yesterday we had roasted turkey breast for dinner and today we are having turkey sandwiches of what is left of. The dark meat I canned some of but I saved most of the carcass for make soup today.

Turkey Soup with Slickers is something Momma used to make after Thanksgiving or when Daddy would bring home a turkey he got on sale at the Commissary. You start with a turkey carcass from at least a fourteen pound turkey and you put that in a big stock pot with five quarts of water, a half cup of chopped onion, a half cup of chopped carrots, a half cup of chopped celery, three tablespoons of dried parsley flakes, two teaspoons of salt, one-half teaspoon of pepper, and two bay leaves. Bring it to a boil, skim the fat off, and then reduce it to simmer for two hours. After that you take the bay leaves out and then the carcass and let it cool. Whatever meat hasn’t fallen off the bones already, you remove and put back in the broth.

Next you take one cup of the broth only (no chunks of anything) and mix that with one egg and enough flour to make a stiff dough, somewhere between two and a half and three cups of flour. Turn your dough out onto a floured surface and knead it eight to ten times to get it smooth. Then divide the dough in half. Roll a half until it is one-eighth of an inch thick and then cut it into two-inch by quarter-inch strips. Repeat with the other half of the dough.

To the broth left in the pot add one-half teaspoon of dill, one-half teaspoon of poultry seasoning, and one cup of dried peas if you have them. Bring it all to a gentle boil and then add in the dough strips (the “slickers”). But a lid on your pot and let it cook for about thirty minutes or until the slickers are cooked and the peas are tender. Yum yum!

The other thing I managed to do today was to put away the last of the stuff that came to us from Mrs. Withrow and a good thing too because I’m supposed to go over there again tomorrow. I’m going prepared this time though with bandanas for my hair and face and a pair of goggles to keep the dust bunnies out of my eyes too. I have a feeling I’m going to get absolutely filthy up in that attic and goodness only knows what is hiding up there waiting to be found … or wanting to not be found. Ew.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 73A

January 18th – I’m still cleaning the dust bunnies out of my ears. What I wouldn’t give for some decent q-tips right now. I’ve flushed my ears the best I can but it still feels like there is something in there. Yesterday I just couldn’t go any more and accidentally fell asleep drooling on the open page I had meant to start writing on; unfortunately Rand came in and caught me snoozing and hustled me out of the kitchen and into bed last night. Finally today I can catch up with what has been rattling around in my head, besides the dust bunnies.

Two days ago I went to Mrs. Withrow’s again. She’d had Mick and Tommy over a couple of afternoons. They are good boys and really helped her. The young couple she planned on gifting the house to – surname was Halverston but I can’t place them in my head so don’t know if we’ve been introduced – came over a couple of afternoons as well and moved some of the heavier stuff. Lucky for me she saved the attic for us. And yes, I’m practicing my skill at sarcasm with that one.

Mrs. Withrow is an interesting old woman but she is bossy as all get out. I like her anyway and I’m thankful; I’m just not quite sure what to make of her sudden generosity. It makes me uncomfortable. Rand doesn’t seem to have a problem with it. I guess he has known her since he was a young boy and she is practically family to him in some ways. Still … I’m not sure how to respond sometimes and I wonder if I’m being grateful enough or not. I don’t want her to think I’m not appreciative. I’ve never had to deal with a situation like this. I knew there were people like her out there, I just never expected to meet one much less have to deal with their munificence (had to look that one up in the dictionary when Rand used it to describe Mrs. Withrow).

There was no fooling around once I arrived on her doorstep. Rand helped me down and handed me the basket I had brought; he had to get going as he had a full day of plowing ahead of him and he didn’t want to overwork the mules but he still took the time to remind me no heavy lifting, that he would get it when he came to pick me up. He turned the mules and was off down the road heading to the Reardon’s back forty.

I must have looked pretty unusual because Mrs. Withrow started laughing when she’d gotten her first good look at me. Instead of my jeans I had decided to wear a pair of the overalls that I had salvaged all those months ago. They were husky-size boys overalls; bigger in the waist than I needed yet but short in the leg. The warm socks I had knitted for myself from scraps of yarn showed above the tops of my work boots. Under the overalls I had a long john shirt with a t-shirt over that and I topped off my ensemble with an old, faded flannel shirt. My accessories included a couple of bandanas, a pair of goggles, and a pair of gloves that hung out of my back pocket.

So … I wouldn’t exactly have won a beauty contest with the outfit but I was warm and comfortable and that was about all I cared about at that point. I struck a pose and she just laughed harder then shook her head and said, “My lands child you couldn’t have caught me more off guard with that get up had you tried.”

As we climbed the stairs she told me what she had been doing. She seemed to be rejuvenated, as if the decluttering and moving to the little house had somehow given her years back that the burden of taking care of the big house had stolen from her. “I was a little sore yesterday but I’m in fine fiddle today. If we only get half the attic done I’ll be more than satisfied. I was going to work on the attic myself but I was afraid of getting up there and something happening and no one being around to know it. I may be a bit paranoid but I had Josiah … that’s the Halverston boy I was telling you about … take the door knob off the door and just to be double sure it doesn’t close and stick on us I’ve got a wedge to put under the door as well.”

The attic didn’t look much better than I’d seen it except that Josiah had also managed to get the nails out of the nearest window so that it could be raised and lowered. It wouldn’t stay up, I guess the sash was broken, so I put a couple of bug chewed books to prop it open about six inches. It was more than a little cool outside but there was just enough wind to draw the worst of the dust out.

The first thing I did was sweep and dust so we could see what we were getting into. I had Mrs. Withrow go back down the stairs a bit while I put on my goggles and pulled the bandana up over my nose and mouth. When I was finished with a five by ten area I called her back up. “Gracious! You look like you’ve been in a dust storm child. Here, drink this cup of tea to clear your throat.” I took it gratefully while we both looked around.

A lot of what was up in the attic had deteriorated over the years. Anything of fabric that hadn’t been protected by moth balls or cedar chests was moth eaten or dry rotted. There wasn’t any saving it. I learned what “shattered silk” was and learned that once that starts happening there is no way to repair it; pieces like that went right into the burn barrel in the back yard. I also found out that “book worms” are real and the bane of many book collectors; they burrow through pages of old books, magazines and catalogs at an alarming rate. More than a few old paperbacks and farming catalogs went into the barrel.

Actually bookworms are insects like book lice and silverfish. Mrs. Withrow said she used to keep mugwort, wormwood and a solution of borax on the library shelves to keep those bugs away. The idea of all of my cookbooks and our library getting eaten up by insect type critters gives me the heebie jeebies. I’ve still got two five gallon buckets of borax so I guess I better get to putting that stuff where it will do some good.

Also into the burn barrel went nearly a hundred years of business papers and ledgers. “The important ones are tucked into my cedar chest in the little house. Mr. Withrow made sure of that as soon as he found out his cancer was terminal. The rest of this might be a curiosity to a family historian but since there aren’t any around I’m declaring it flotsam and jettisoning it.”

I’d sweep an area clear and we’d go through it with Mrs. Withrow deciding what she wanted to do with various things or writing on cards and tying them to various items that were too heavy for us to move far … or move at all in some cases. Every once in a while she would start looking through a piece of furniture, trunk, or chest and get this far away look on her face; but then she would shake her head and get this ruthless look on her face and start pitching things. “I do believe Rand had a good idea about taking this stuff to the swap meet - George has agreed to loan me Brendon and one of his large wagons - but I’m of a mind to let others handle the disposal. I’m not saying I couldn’t do it but I don’t want to be tempted to keep things back just out of sentiment or because I might not be partial to the person looking to haul something off.”

Lots of commonsense in that in my opinion. That’s why a lot of people used to prefer to have an objective third party handle estate sales according to Aunt Wilma. She loved estate sales and when I was in my wheelchair I was her captive and was forced to travel to many of them all over the Tampa Bay area sitting there people watching. It wasn’t always pretty. The family, especially if they were sentimental, generally thought things were worth more than they actually were. Sometimes whoever was handling the sell actually requested that the family not attend so that sales could be made more quickly. It was awful to watch people cry as other people bought their relative’s things or watched them being auctioned off for pennies on the dollar.

I was thinking on this, trying to figure out where to put a dress form with an impossibly small waist, when Mrs. Withrow exclaimed, “Well, will you look at this.”

I turned around to find her unwinding an old blanket from what looked like a large pile of rust. Turns out it was a cast iron stove and a bunch more cast iron cook ware. “Do you think Rand could move this?” she asked pointing at the stove.

“Not without some help. That thing must weigh a ton. Will it even fit through the door?”

“If it is dismantled it should. If we can, I believe I’ll have Josiah move the pot belly stove into my bedroom and set this one up … it needs cleaning and blackening badly … into the front room in its place. I believe it should fit although I may need to protect the walls somehow. I’ve got some extra stove board out in the barn that should work.”

Whoever gets Mrs. Withrow’s honey-do list is in for a pretty big surprise. I had a few surprises of my own coming. “Child, when Rand gets here remind me to have him carry these cast iron pieces down to put in your wagon. You are going to need to clean them and reseason them but they should still have years of life left in them.”

“But … but … you’ve already given us several pieces. Don’t you think … “

“No I don’t so stop fussing. I said I want you to have these pieces and I don’t want to hear another thing about it. Look at this. I haven’t seen a Dutch oven this big since I was a girl. And here is a spider that will let you cook bread in a fireplace with no problem at all. And look at this reflector oven. I can just remember my great grandmother using one of those when my mother was still alive. And a rotisserie. Each tool has its own use. You may not need them all the time, but when you need them you’ll be glad you have them.”

Some other “must haves” she gifted us with included some old milk cans, several wooden benches, and a portable secretary that she said belonged to some relative that had been an officer in the War Between the States. “I’ve wondered for years what happened to this. Mr. Withrow’s two sisters used to fight over it like a couple of dogs over a soup bone. My father in law must have grown tired of the bickering and hidden it up here.”

When she would tell stores like that it made me feel lost. She has all these stores of generations worth of people in her family. I feel like I was cut off and denied my family history. And it makes me wonder what has happened to them, if I will ever find out.

Up in the attic there were also tons of old children’s toys and games. “What on earth am I going to do with all of this?!” Mrs. Withrow asked temporarily overwhelmed at one point.

“If y’all are starting up a lending library, why don’t y’all start a game room or game closet or something for the children? Or you could scrap the game boxes and boards – some of these don’t look worth saving anyway – and keep the tokens and make up new games to use them with.”

“Hmmmm,” was all she replied but she did write something down in her notepad and have me set the games in a different pile downstairs.

If I haven’t mentioned it before Mrs. Withrow’s house is incredibly free of things that can make you scream and squeal. I asked her about it and she told me her husband’s grandmother had some kind of phobia about bugs and critters that didn’t belong in the house. When her husband built the house he had to keep this in mind and it is a very tightly built house. Trees and vines were also not allowed to grow too close to the house because it gave pests a bridge to get in.

“Oh the stories I used to hear my mother in law tell; I never met the old woman but everyone said she was a horrible tyrant. One day a week everyone on the farm had to stop and clean everything top to bottom. Her father had been a physician during the War Between the States and her mother had worked in one of the military hospitals of the day. They say she picked up the phobia from listening to her parents tell stories of infections and the dirt and filth that was taken for granted by then but which would kill someone faster than a wound alone would. The little house was actually built as a sick room. Anyone that was sick, even a simple summer cold, was banished from the house until she declared them fit enough to return. My husband was the only baby actually born in the big house and that was because his grandmother was away taking some cure or other down in Sulfur Springs. You know what she wound up dying from child? From arsenic poisoning from handling all the poisons and such that she used to kill and keep pests out of the house. My father in law would always say there was a lesson in the story for a thinking person.”

Um, yeah. Pretty gruesome but I guess those things happened a lot back then. I guess the only thing I had to worry about was being crushed by all the junk up in that attic as I tried to make room to move. Looking in the mirror last night I could see my hips and thighs are still bruised. I would shift what I could using my legs as we moved deeper into the gloom at the other end of the attic. There was simply wall-to-wall stuff. There were only a few items we were able to dig out and move ourselves; large embroidery hoops on stands, quilting frames of various sizes, a loom, a canvas bag full of wooden spindles that I think were for spinning, a hat rack and umbrella stand. We drug old rugs wrapped in heavy paper down the stairs and out to the yard to be unwrapped and evaluated. Only one in three were salvageable and most were damaged in some way before they were put in storage.

“Mrs. Withrow, don’t take this the wrong way, but why would your family save a rug with a big burn spot in the middle like that? Especially if your husband’s grandmother was that crazy about bugs and stuff getting in the house?”

“Child, the mindset of the old folks was different from what we think of these day. There weren’t stores like there used to be. For example, look at this one here. Likely this was a mail order item and quite expensive when new. They probably thought it could be repaired at some point or used for something else. You simply didn’t throw things away when I was a girl, you would have been considered a scandalous wastrel.”

Well there were no scandalous wastrels in the Withrow family, that’s for darn sure. We both needed a break and decided to stop for lunch even though it was still shy of when I would normally have served it. As a surprise I had brought shredded pork sandwiches and a wedge of homemade cheese for us to share.

“Honey, you didn’t have to do this.”

“No ma’am, but I made a basket up for Rand just in case and decided to go ahead and use the leftovers for us. By the way, Rand was wondering … “

“Well tell the boy to stop his wondering, I’m well taken care of in that department. Josiah’s father always makes sure I get a share of what he plants on the rented land and my own little garden did well enough for my needs. I do enjoy that applesauce you made and wouldn’t say no to a jar if you have one to spare. I like to use it in my baking when I don’t have oil.” Rand took a couple of jars over to her the next day and I was glad to find something that she needed. I like Mrs. Withrow but feeling this indebted gives me hives.

After lunch we managed to empty the old chiffarobes and armoires. Several trunks still needed investigating but Mrs. Withrow decided to do those on her own during the week. The wind suddenly turned damp and chilly and drove us out of the attic. I shut the window and we went back downstairs and since the sky looked threatening I drug the rugs out of the yard. The worst ones were left on the porch and the better ones I pulled into the house even though they still needed to be beaten out. As we headed to the kitchen to warm up Mrs. Withrow said, “My guess is Rand will be here shortly. If feels like rain on the wind. Did you put a tarp in the wagon?”

“Yes ma’am; ropes and bungee cords too.”

“Good, good. I had Josiah put these planks here so Rand could use them to load the wagon.”

What she planned on Rand loading into the wagon included several trunks, a wooden filing cabinet, a large butcher block, and a bunch of boxes and bags. Every time I started to look in them to see what they held she’d have me doing something else. It was frustrating and what made it worse was that I realized she was doing it on purpose.

Mrs. Withrow was right as usual. Rand arrived forty-five minutes later just ahead of a rain that was so light it was barely a mist, but the clouds promised it wasn’t going to stay that way. Rand’s race was as forbidding as the clouds so we loaded as quickly as we could and headed home.

I gave Rand some space and he finally sighed and asked, “You know what I spent half the day doing?”

Well obviously I didn’t so I let him keep going without interruption. “I moved the plow over to Uncle George’s thinking I would save some time and that it would be safe. I show up this morning and it wasn’t where I left it. It wasn’t in the shape I left it either when I eventually found it in the field where it had been left. Brendon and Jonathon used it but swear they didn’t do the damage. There were two broken pins and the blow looks like it has been drug through gravel.”

“What?! Surely they wouldn’t lie about something like that?” I exclaimed.

“They admit borrowing it without permission and admit they got so busy they forgot to bring it back to the barn where I had put it. They didn’t think it was in any danger because they pushed it back in some trees and tied it to a tree. You can see where someone else took it and pulled it across the road. I followed the path and it led to a field behind the Gilkins place. I confronted Lucretia but she claimed not to know anything about it. Then I caught Lemuel – his surname is Potters by the way – trying to take off unseen and when I questioned him I caught him in a lie. Then he tried to pass it off by claiming that Brendon had given him permission to use it but that he hadn’t been the one to break it, that it had been broken when he tried to use it which was why he returned it and had lied about it because he didn’t want any more trouble with any of us.”

I listened to the rest of the details getting angry myself.

“I got it fixed Babe but I’ve locked the equipment so that it can’t be moved out of Reardon’s barn. I’ve got to go back tomorrow to finish which means I’ve got to put off Mr. Coffey and Mr. Henderson which means you’re gonna have to wait for me to open up that new garden. I’m sorry, I just don’t see any way around it.”

“Oh Rand, that’s all right, we’ll make do until you can. It’s more important you get your other stuff done in time to meet your commitments.”

“I should have done our field first, I just didn’t think … and I’m mad as … well, I’m mad. That was irresponsible of Brendon and Jonathon. Brendon I might have expected it from but not Jonathon … and Jonathon acted all holier than thou. I’m hacked. Brendon came over later and apologized again and asked if there was anything he could do. I figured it was mostly my fault for letting it happen by not saying anything in the first place.”

“What did Uncle George have to say?”

“He tore Brendon and Jonathon both a new one and he helped me to manufacture some new pins using some spares he had for the big tractors. They work for which I’m grateful. I don’t know what we would have done otherwise.”

We were both quiet for a while and then Rand went, “Um, there’s another thing.”

Something on his face told me he hated to tell me this even more than about the plow. “What?”

“Well, when I was angry and working on the plow Missy came over and brought me something to drink. I wasn’t really paying any attention to what she was saying. Being caught up between trying to fix the plow and trying not to look at how big she has gotten I just let her talk and would occasionally nod and shake my head when it seemed like she expected it. Then she gives me a hug and walks away like I’d done her a big favor. Brendon must have come around then … that’s when he apologized the second time … and he asked, ‘You don’t know what you just said yes to do you?’ Well, for a fact I didn’t. When he told me … please don’t cry Kiri, I didn’t mean to.”

“Mean to what?” I asked started to get worried.

“She’s going to be over in the morning and I agreed that you’d help her repair a bunch of the clothing that has come into the Shack so that it can go back out.”

I got hung up between being mad that he’d agreed to something like that without even asking me and laughing at the way he was squinting like he expected me to hit him or explode. Lucky for him he looked pretty funny. I figured there wasn’t much choice at this point so I gave in more gracefully than I would have even a few months ago but I asked him to please not make a habit of it. The look he gave me after that said he didn’t know whether it was a good thing or not that I was letting him off the hook. I left him wondering; no sense in giving all my girl secrets away.

The sky picked that moment to open up and really dump on us. Rand only had a brimmed hat and coat to cover up with. He made me put the wagon blanket over myself but all it did was slow the rain down some, I was still as soaked as he was by the time we got home; soaked and freezing.

Rand pulled the wagon up to the porch and then helped me down before unhitching the mules and taking them to the barn to take care of them after their hard day at work and subsequent bath in the cold rain. I got the front door opened up and prayed that the tarp didn’t have any pinholes in it to let in the rain that kept coming down by the bucket full. As soon as I was in the house I headed to the kitchen to put a kettle on and then started a fire in the wood stove in our room. I stripped, dried off and got some dry things on but I didn’t bother cleaning up the mess that had been tracked in the house until Rand came in and did the same.

Dinner was Spanish style stew; basically a beef stew with raisins and capers cooked in it. Rand like the raisins, the capers not so much. I guess that it s a good thing since I’m on my last little jar of capers. I know you can make “poor man’s capers” using nasturtium buds but I’m still looking for the recipe after I misfiled it.

The rain finally quit midway through dinner and the sky lightened just enough that we got most of the stuff off the wagon without having to light a lamp. Nothing got wet thank goodness, but it did have to sit there since I was too tired to do anything with it. Whether I had company coming or not I was all done in and cold from the soaking we’d both gotten.

Yesterday morning came too soon. I really had the pukes and couldn’t even face the kitchen. Rand scrambled himself an egg and ate some toast from a loaf of bread I had made a few days earlier. I kept telling him I was sorry and he kept telling me not to worry about it. I swear I will never laugh at even the idea of morning sickness ever, ever again. Every time I think I’ve got this stuff licked it turns around and comes back even worse than before. Rand thinks it only hits me bad when I’m over tired. Six of one, half a dozen of another; does it really matter? It still bites really bad.

Rand and Missy … who brought Alicia with her … passed each other at the front gate, or so they told me. They had brought bags and bags of stuff with them and I knew right off there was no way we were going to get it all finished and I told them as much.

Missy just breezed out with, “Oh I know that, I just wanted to make sure we didn’t run out of things to do.”

I looked at Alicia as if to ask her if Missy had lost her mind sometime recently. She turned a laugh into a cough to keep from setting Missy off and we pulled clothing and linens out of the first bag and got started.

What a mess. I must be some kind of vain because I was complaining about not having the right clothes and here there are clothes that barely qualify for the title and people were wearing them and gladly. Alicia’s hands were swollen so she wanted to know if I minded if she worked the treadle. After I saw her hands I said she’d better and she better stop eating so much salt or she was going to blow up like a balloon or worse. “Oh poo on you. That’s what Pastor Ken said. Stuff just doesn’t taste right if there isn’t salt in it.”

“Well, I always knew the Pastor had good sense,” I fired right back at her. “Remind me to give you a bottle of sea salt I have. I’m not sure if you can use it to preserve stuff but it is supposed to be better for you because it is more balanced than table salt which has been stripped of all other minerals. I don’t think it takes as much sea salt to make things taste ‘salty’ either which means you would be eating less and getting the same flavor. If Pastor says that it is out with the salt all together you better listen to him. I have a couple of salt-substitute recipes that we can make up and use to flavor stuff with if it comes to that.”

Alicia gave a fake dramatic sigh, laughed, and then we all got down to business. Missy’s job was to go through each bag, put matching items together, and then iron them or whatever else needed doing so that we could start the repairs. My job was to do the hand work.

One of the things that I did was instead of trying to sew torn collars back onto t-shirts I would take the collar off and then put a blanket stitch around the edge to keep it from unraveling. Same thing on some of the sleeve ends. Alicia couldn’t believe how fast I could do a blanket stitch and a button hole by hand. I explained I’d learned in self defense when Momma would make things for the children’s home at Christmas time when I was growing up. “I had to complete so many before I could go play or do whatever and they had to be done right or Momma would make me take them out and do them over. It didn’t matter how long it took I still had to do the number that she set. The faster I could get them correctly finished the quicker I could go do something else.”

When a shirt or dress had a hole in it too big to sew shut we used fusable interfacing to put appliqués on to hide the hole or Alicia would just sew the appliqué in place if it was a big enough hole. We saved all the scraps of material we cut as you never knew when they’d come in handy for another garment’s repair. Some of the pieces were just to ruined to fix and we would take everything off of it, especially buttons, that was still useable.

Some of the items were in good condition; they just had a stain … usually sweat stains. I made up a big tub out on the porch using vinegar and water. More often than not that took care of most of the stains, especially on colored clothes. On something white we made up a solution of half water and half hydrogen peroxide and left it to soak for thirty minutes and then laundered normally.

Out of the blue Missy asks me, “What are you and Rand doing for underwear? That is what we get asked for the most.”

After I was able to breathe again after get caught off guard I said, “I take care of … um … repairs and stuff as soon as they need it. Sometimes I have to let things soak … you know cause they get dirty or whatever. We’re down a few pairs but so far so good.” Missy always hits you out of left field with the most personal questions.

“Well I can tell you there are more than a few people around here going commando. If I could figure out a way to get more bras and panties we’d make a killing.”

I gave that one some thought … and tried to stay away from wondering exactly who was going commando these days. “In the old days they used to make bloomers or tap pants with draw strings, and brassieres you could make pretty easy if you used a bathing suit top pattern and just do ties instead of hooks.”

Missy and Alicia looked at each other and then looked at me. “Oh no. No, no, no. I’ve got enough to do without designing women’s lingerie.”

Alicia laughed but Missy said, “You really should think about it Kiri. You could really have something to trade at the swap meets.” Yeah, I need more work like I need a hole in the head. I need to think about clothes for me before I start thinking about other people’s underwear. These overalls will do for now but as fast as my gut is expanding they won’t last more than a month or two at most. And I’m starting to expand in other areas too. Rand might be fascinated with what is happening but I assure you I am not. I already have enough trouble finding shirts that fit I don’t need any other problems like that.

I knew Rand was going to be away for lunch; I packed the leftover stew from the previous night into a thermos for his lunch. It took me a long time to decide what I was going to do for lunch since I was going to have guests. I asked Rand if he minded if I started using up the last of the Ramen noodles and he looked at me like I was crazy for asking. “Babe, you are queen of the kitchen. You do what you think best.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 73B

Once upon a time we had literally piles of those cellophane wrapped packages. Now we are down to a few cases but that might be too many unless we start eating them pretty quickly. I found out the hard way when I was still living with Aunt Wilma that Ramen noodles can go rancid and the packages we have are getting pretty far outside their “best used by” date.

For lunch I fixed “Stir Fry Noodles and Rice” and had already assembled all of the ingredients before I started so that no one would see what was in our pantry. I know that sounds paranoid especially considering that Missy and Alicia are supposed to be family but I’ve found a little paranoia can keep you healthy and out of trouble. The servings I made weren’t huge but I had a loaf of banana bread that I made using some of our banana chips that had gotten a little too limp and sticky to eat out of hand. The dessert rounded out the meal and I just told the girls that I had used banana flavoring and a regular quick bread recipe and they bought it.

For the stir fry you need the following: 1 package Ramen noodles (chicken) , 1 cup plain white rice , 1 can tomatoes (any kind) , 1 can veggie of choice, 1 can chicken soup, 1 can chicken, 1/2 tsp. garlic pepper, 1/2 tsp. chili pepper, 1/2 tsp. Creole pepper (if you want some heat), 1 bay leaf (optional), and 1 or 2 tablespoons of oil.

First you start by draining the water from the tomatoes, chicken and your veggie of choice. Use the liquid from the cans or jars to cook the rice and noodles in a fairly good sized sauce pot with the tomatoes and spices. Make sure you have enough liquid for the rice and noodles. While the rice and noodles are cooking, brown the chicken a little bit on a skillet. So far, this should take no more than 10 minutes, however check the noodle and rice packaging for appropriate cooking times, and go with the longer time of the two. Remove the bay leaf when the water is pretty well absorbed. Put the rice/noodle/tomato mix on the chicken, and pour the veggies in. Heat everything up well and then plate it up using tongs or a spaghetti scoop to keep from stringing the noodles all over the place, they can be a mess.

In the middle of the meal Missy asked if I had more pasta as it is always in short supply. All I said was, “I’m using the last to avoid it going rancid. Want my recipe for egg noodles?”

That distracted her enough to get her away from what I considered a dangerous subject and Alicia gave me a half wink over her head. I really like Alicia. We may be the opposite of each other in many ways but we have a lot in common too; we are both inside outsiders to the family.

When Missy stepped outside to go through a couple more bags and to check on the whites that were soaking Alicia said, “Brendon feels really bad about what happened with the plow Kiri. Is … is Rand still furious?”

I thought about it a second and then told her, “Well, he isn’t happy but if it doesn’t happen again he’ll get over it. Rand doesn’t carry grudges from what I’ve seen, especially not with family.”

“That’s a relief. Father is still very upset and keeps checking up on Brendon and Jonathon to make sure they’ve put everything away just right. Brendon is a nervous wreck and could barely sleep last night.”

“I don’t mean to rub it in but the plow thing was pretty bad Alicia. And Uncle George doesn’t seem like the easiest man to get along with at the best of times.”

“Oh, he’s not that bad but he can wear on your nerves if you are over sensitive; he’s certainly nowhere near as bad as my dad was. I keep reminding Brendon of that any time he starts complaining about how Father can be so critical.”

“Critical; that’s a good word for it. The way he used to be with Rand, the way he can still be, nearly had me exploding a few times.”

“Of Rand? You’re kidding. All he ever does is sing Rand’s praises. Rand straightened up his act. Rand went to college. Rand didn’t have to get married. Rand has his own land.”

“No … way. To be honest I’m surprised that he said anything at all to Jonathon. All I’ve ever heard is that Jonathon walks on water. And Brendon is THE son and seems to have gotten away with everything.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. I’m not joking. You remember that tiff that Uncle George and I had. I didn’t say it because the way he was treating Rand was nice. It was really tearing Rand up inside when he let himself think about it. I think half Rand’s problems growing up was because of all the criticism and thinking that he couldn’t do any better because that’s all he ever heard … from Uncle George, from Mr. Winston, from a lot of people. If it hadn’t been for Momma O and her husband and Mr. and Mrs. Withrow who knows what path Rand would have eventually chosen.”

“I had no idea. That’s not the way Brendon remembers it. Oh sure, he said Rand used to get into a lot of trouble but he always stood up and paid for the situations without asking anyone for anything. He worked for his own money and threw the allowance Uncle George tried to give him back in his face. He worked hard and played hard, was popular, had the prettiest girlfriend in schoo … uh … “

“Don’t sweat it Alicia, I know what you mean. Julia is pretty.”

“Julia was pretty. Have you seen her lately? She doesn’t look anything like when we were in school. All her highlights have grown out. She doesn’t wear make up any more. She always looks tired and …”

“Pretty is different now. I saw her last Church service. She’s got nice bones and as soon as the baby is sleeping through the night she probably won’t look so tired.”

“You’re right and I’m being an awful jealous cat. I just envied her and those girls she hung out with, like Cassie. Some of the things my Dad used to make me wear to school … I don’t even want to think about it. I’m married with a baby on the way and I work from sun up til the sun goes down and I still have more freedom than what I had living in Dad’s house. I shouldn’t be so catty anymore.”

“I guess all our lives are different.”

“For a fact. Look, just do me a favor please. Tell Rand that Brendon is really sorry about what happened. Rand is kind of a hero to him and he hates it when they are on the outs. He couldn’t even eat breakfast this morning worrying how Rand was going to feel about him coming over to Mr. Reardon’s and talking to him.”

“I’ll tell him but I think Brendon is … I don’t know … over reacting or something.”

“I don’t think so. I know that Father loves Brendon and so does Brendon but it was always Rand that was there for him when things got rough with Mrs. Crenshaw. If you think Father is something else you would have thought he was a saint compared to Brendon’s mom. I remember her and she was nice … but cold too. She could be real cutting. I think that is why she and Mrs. Winston got along so well, they were two of a kind.”

“That I didn’t know. Rand has said some things that made me wonder but he never had anything bad to say about her. In fact he said that Uncle George doted on her and that is why when she died that Uncle George changed.”

“Yeah, that’s some of it. And I’m not saying Father isn’t a good man, just … I guess we can criticize anybody if we look at things close enough and I’m guessing Father only thinks he is trying to help and doesn’t see how his criticism hurts as bad as it does.”

“Yeah. I think I … um … kinda set him off when I brought it to his attention a couple of times.”

Alicia laughed and said, “Oh you could say that, I’m sure.”

We didn’t have any more time to talk because Missy was calling us to help her bring in the next batch of things to repair but she had given me stuff to think about … and maybe point out to Rand when he gets in a listening mood. The rest of the afternoon passed quickly and then it was time for them to pack up and head home.

“I’ll see you soon I hope. I need to get home so that Laurabeth doesn’t have to get dinner by herself.”

Missy grumbled, “No, we wouldn’t want the princess to have to do anything by herself now would we.”

“Missy, don’t be that way. You know that Laurabeth’s back is really hurting.”

“Yeah and I told her if she and Jonathon would just try a different posi … “

Alicia and I both shouted, “Missy!” at the same time.

“Lord, what a couple of prudes,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “Come on Alicia, let’s go before Daddy sends someone out to look for us.”

No wonder she and Bill needed their own house. If they hadn’t someone would likely have killed Missy by now. I’m honestly surprised Bill hasn’t but he seems to get a kick out of the ruckus she creates. Each to his own I suppose.

I cleaned and swept all the bits and pieces that had been left on the floor, started dinner, and was just on the point of getting worried when Rand drove up with the team and wagon. Over dinner Rand told me about his day. “Reardon’s field is done and I’ve moved the plow to Mr. Coffey’s. I would have been back sooner but you know how it is once he starts talking. Reardon paid me in sausage – I hung them in the smokehouse – and with five gallons of honey he got from his hives over the summer. Mr. Coffey offered me some tobacco he’d grown but it didn’t thrill me any so his son said he’d help enlarge the cooler and we’ll get a little feed for the animals as well. They plan on marketing some of their tobacco at the swap meet to see if it is worth the hassle of growing it next season. I know we could take the tobacco in payment and then trade it to someone else but right now I’d rather not trade for something I can’t or don’t use myself in case we get stuck with it.”

“Sounds good as long as you and the team aren’t working too hard to get it.”

“No, Bud and Lou can pull forever on a fallow field so long as the tree sprouts aren’t too bad and Reardon’s was only a season or two off cycle. Mr. Coffey could do his own fields but he doesn’t want to over work his team since they are older. Henderson on the other hand, that’s going to be a job. His men have had to cut down trees and take out stumps by hand and they’ve had to lever out some good sized pieces of limestone too. I’m going to have to go slow in case there are any big stones still hidden.”

“Why doesn’t he spend some of that diesel he is supposed to have stockpiled and run a tractor through there?”

“Cost versus benefit. Listening to Mitch it sounds like it has taken a lot more fuel to keep their generators going than expected. Plus I think they’ve been trading some fuel with someone … and no, I don’t know who … to keep their supply of ammunition up. You know that Bill and Clyde have done the same thing to get reloading supplies in.”

“Let me guess, Ram has something to do with it.”

“Well, no one has said but he seems pretty well known by certain people if you catch my meaning.”

“Oh I catch it all right. And he’s going to catch it next time I see him. He better not be a black marketer. If he is doing it with his commander’s blessings that is one thing but the last thing that hombre loco needs is to get into something that is just as likely to get him killed as it is to make him rich. But it sounds just like him.”

“Don’t forget, I get front row seats when you do. Should make for some pretty spectacular fireworks.”

I was going to sit down for a minute and write in my journal before starting on the stuff that I still hadn’t looked at from Mrs. Withrown but I wound up falling asleep instead. All I remember is being cold until Rand came to bed and after that I was so tired I didn’t even hear whether Rand snored or not.

This morning I spent an hour trying and failing not to puke again. Rand told me that I’m in the minority; most women get over their morning sickness once their first trimester is over with. That just makes me feel all kinds of special … not.

After Rand left the crisp morning air helped clear my head. The garden is looking good. I pulled the few weeds that are popping up and put a couple of wheelbarrows full of mulch in the places it was showing thin. I paid some much delayed attention to Woofer and Fraidy’s fur coats and then I came in and started on the stuff from Mrs. Withrow.

It was like Christmas all over again. One of the trunks held nothing but enamelware and not just the traditional blue speckleware either though that was most of it. There were serving pieces, a colander, another big cowboy coffee pot, mugs, tumblers, bowls, you name it; there were even some spoons and ladles. In the bottom of the trunk was a box and Mrs. Withrow had put a note in there and said that the box held several children’s dish sets and when I opened the box I saw that it was an eight place setting and the designs were all children’s fairytales.

Another trunk held large baking and serving pieces made of ceramic, glass, porcelain, or clay. There were a lot of Pyrex baking pieces but there were also some huge platters and bowls too. There was also a couple of different size clay baking dishes by Romertopf; Aunt Wilma had a couple of these too.

In and around all of the dishes she had crammed all kinds of linens including a bunch of pot holders to keep things from clinking together. One of the large pitchers was full of old lace collars and frilly handkerchiefs, so pretty I could hardly imagine using them.

Likewise all of the pieces like the chiffarobe was crammed full of stuff. The chest o’ drawers was full of sewing notions, thread, elastic, trimmings, hemming tape and I still don’t know what all as I dumped it all in a basket and set it upstairs in the craft room to be divided up into the right drawer and container on a rainy day. It was the last and biggest trunk that choked me up the most. Inside, was her big company tea set, the storage box with her good silver, some pretty filigree picture frames, and some old baby toys like a real stainless steel rattle and a crib mobile that she said had been her oldest son’s. In one of the picture frames was a photo of Mrs. Withrow standing beside a man that had to have been her husband. Between the two stood Rand, he couldn’t have been much more than twelve or thirteen. He was holding a trophy and it was plain obvious he’d been in some kind of pie eating contest as his face was still covered with it though it was his huge grin that you noticed more than anything else.

I put the picture on the mantel beside the picture of my parents and when Rand saw it he laughed so hard and long his sides hurt. He remembers that day in great detail. He also mentioned that it was right before Mr. Withrow’s cancer went terminal. I’ll treasure that picture forever.


January 19th – Rand was able to get most of the plowing done for Mr. Coffey. He’ll have to go back on Monday. He would have finished it up tomorrow but tomorrow is the Swap Meet and I guess we are both excited to go. Mr. Coffey said himself that he was going and that there was no sense in Rand trying to finish it up before next week. Mr. Coffey won’t work on the Sabbath, just plain won’t so there isn’t any need to worry about that. If the weather holds then he’ll finish Mr. Coffey’s fields on Monday morning and then head straight to the field that Mr. Henderson’s men are working on and likely he’ll be at that most of next week.

Speaking of, I had another visitor today; two really. Cassie Henderson came by with an escort in tow. “Um, hi Kiri, I heard … oh my goodness, you really are aren’t you?”

Assuming she meant that I was pregnant I said, “Nope, I swallowed one too many watermelon seeds and someone started a rumor. Isn’t if awful?”

It took her a second to uncross her eyes where I had caught her. I don’t think she thought I had a sense of humor. I’ll admit it doesn’t come out often and when it does it is squeaky and rusty but it does peek out on occasion.

“Well, yeah. Ok. I guess … um … You know, people also think you’re a little crazy and that comment would have only egged them on,” she smiled.

“Did you need anything specific?”

“Actually Poppy wanted me to come by since Rand wasn’t around and he might not appreciate some man dropping by unannounced.”

I just raised my eyebrows and waited until she eventually got around to a point.

“Yeah, anyway … Poppy said to tell you to be careful. There’s been a few beggars around. They aren’t locals even though they claim to be. No one that has seen them knows them and those that they’ve run into claim they are pretty aggressive. Poppy said you shouldn’t be outside unless you’re armed.”

“Tell your grandfather that I never go anywhere unarmed anymore,” showing her the pistol I carried in the holster under my jacket. “But also tell him I appreciate sending you to tell me. All we need around here is more trouble. You’d figure people would be too worried about surviving to waste their time fighting over other people’s belongings.”

“Tell me about it, we get a lot of them down at the ranch. Most of them are locals and it is pretty sad. One of the reasons that Poppy is opening up that new field is to give some of those men a chance to bring in some food for their families. There’s been a few grumbles about him bringing in Rand to do the plowing. They think it is taking work away from them and these days work means food.”

“Well, would they rather use picks and shovels to turn that sand and clay? If they let Rand in to do his job they can go about getting their job done better.”

“Desperate folks aren’t always that logical Kiri,” she told me suddenly sounding a whole lot older than she had been before. “Poppy isn’t being totally altruistic though. If his men don’t have to do the grunt work they can spend more time patrolling and salvaging.”

“Salvaging?”

“Um … yeah … about that … “

“Don’t sweat it. I’ll just ask Rand. I’m sure that Mitch has said something to him,” I said trying to edge a little more information out of her just in case Mitch hadn’t said anything.

“Maybe. I don’t suppose it is a state secret or anything. Poppy has been sending teams out to do some salvaging and to make contact with some … traders. Yeah, that’s what he called them, traders.”

“Ram Diaz wouldn’t just happen to be one of these traders would he?”

“Well, sure. Ram put Poppy in contact with some people all over the state.” But she was done “sharing” and decided she needed to be on her way leaving me to get back to deciding what, if anything, I was going to take to the swap meet.

When Rand came home and after he had time to wash up and relax a bit after dinner I told him what Cassie had said. “Cassie has a big mouth. Mitch hasn’t said anything to me but I’ve heard enough that I’d surmised that is what he’s been doing. Do you know how many people live on the ranch? It wouldn’t surprise me if you included the kids that the number would be over a hundred. That’s a lot of people to feed and clothe and supply with guns and ammo the way he does. Don’t say anything to anyone else and I’ll see what I can find out next week. I’d like to know where Ram fits into this. I know he’s your ‘brother’ and appreciate the stuff he has just given to us but I don’t want it if he’s got blood on his hands.”

Ram’s a survivor. He’s probably done some pretty … well … bad stuff. I have too if you want to look at it like that. I don’t think … no, I don’t want to believe that he would be trading in blood like a common pirate but Rand’s right, we need to know for sure. The trick is going to be asking him without hurting his feelings. He has been awful good to us.

I’m heading to bed early and for once the sheets won’t be cold and clammy; I used that hot iron and yowzer … hot, hot, hot. Rand will be here shortly too so I’m signing off here. We need to be up early if we want to make the swap meet before lunch time.
 

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 74A

January 21st – Being pregnant means I’m going to have to change a lot more than I bargained for. I mean I kind of knew it in an academic way but the reality is a lot harder for me to swallow than I ever thought it would be, what little I had thought about it up to this point. And it’s not just that. I guess nothing stays the same. It just seems that things are getting to a point that the … the … I guess you would call it the dynamics of the little community of people is changing. Some people are better than they were, some people worse. The people that had it going on before still have it going on but seem to be expanding and even taking advantage of the way things are now. The people that were barely holding on before for whatever reason seem to have lost their grip and are sliding further down. The straight up people are even straighter and the crazy people are even crazier. Things are getting even more exaggerated than they were before and I’m not exactly sure why. Either way, nothing is standing still; you either move or you get run over.

After the hospital and the wheelchair I became a lot more attached to my personal space and I didn’t like people touching me without my permission … and I rarely gave my permission that’s for sure. For a while, once I got here I was even worse. All I wanted was to be left alone. But living on Sparkleberry Ranch and having more room and lots less people to interact with I’d gotten used to, with only a few exceptions, having as much space from people as I wanted or needed. I haven’t had to really fight for my space the way I had before. I can voluntarily limit the amount of time that I have to be around other people. Even with as much time as Rand and I spend together I still have plenty of space, enough that when we are together I more than welcome the attention he gives me, even crave it sometimes. In fact, Rand has become my one real point of human contact. He’s the only person that I trust without reserve, without question. The Swap Meet reminded me all over again why I’m not a people person. It made me remember and realize a lot of things.

I won’t even get into the belly rubbing or patting thing that people have a fetish for. I was at least a little prepared, or at least not as surprised, after what I had to put up with at the last church service. What I hadn’t counted on was having to leash my own temper and way of doing things, not that I did much of that. Thinking about it makes me wonder if I’ve changed as much as I thought I had … and if I’m even capable of changing. Or maybe I’m even worse than I used to be. It makes me really wonder what kind of Mom I’m going to be.

Yesterday morning was good. I was only nauseous, not outright sick, and it didn’t last long. I could help with morning chores and that made me feel even better, like I was pulling my load and not being such a burden to Rand. He never complains but I can tell a difference in how tired he is at the end of the day when he has to do his work and mine too, even if it is only part of my chores. Since we weren’t sure how long we would stay at the swap meet, while breakfast was cooking I also fried up some fruit pies and put some bread, pickles, butter, and jam in a picnic basket for us to snack on in case we beyond lunch. Rand threw some hay into the back of the wagon and I hid the basket and a couple of jugs of water under it to keep from having to carry it around with me.

We would have taken the surrey but Rand wanted the wagon just in case. I would have preferred the sprung seat of the surrey but you can’t have everything. Besides, we took Woofer with us. Poor thing was confused when we put a rope on him and acted like he was in trouble for some reason but when he realized he was going to get to ride in the wagon with us he perked right up and got doggy happy all over again. It wasn’t quite like riding down the road in a car with the window open but he seemed to enjoy it just the same.

We weren’t the first ones to arrive but we weren’t the last either. The difference lay mostly in the fact that we weren’t setting up a table or blanket, we were just there to look and get a feel for what was going on with everyone else and according to the way Rand phrased it “get a peek at the future,” though I’m not quite sure what he means by that. I can guess but I don’t think it bothers me as much as it seems to bother him, or at least not the same way. The only thing that really bothers me is in how the way things are – and my part in them – bother Rand. I hadn’t had as much time to invest in any particular future as he had. I was also more used to my future plans being sent on a roller coaster ride that was out of my control. I think it makes a difference in how we think about things. But we have enough in common that at times when we come at things from different points of view but still wind up in nearly the same place.

A good example is Woofer. We both thought it was a good idea to bring Woofer along and let him get used to people being again. When other people beside Rand and I are at Sparkleberry Ranch he gets a bit wild … and not in a good or playful way. He’s fine if we keep him by our side the whole time but we can’t let him away from us because if someone makes the wrong move he goes all wooly wolf and lunges at them. People only though, he’s fine with animals which is the only reason Rand thinks that he is reconditionable or retrainable or whatever you call it.

We were both thinking protection, just not in the same way. I was thinking that Woofer could be tied to the wagon and be a guard dog and protect things. Woofer is no longer the scrawny half puppy he used to be; he’s bigger and all muscle though he is still a bit scruffy looking. His fur doesn’t behave any better than Rand’s hair does.

“Rand, this rope … is it long enough for Woofer? I don’t want him to get hung up on it.”

“The rope is plenty long.”

Thinking a bit I asked, “Are you going to tie him to the wagon wheel? That still won’t give him much room to move.”

“Nope.”

Getting confused I asked, “Well then where are you going to tie him?”

“Not going to.”

“You’re not? But Rand, the wagon and mules are … humph … you said Woofer was coming along to protect our most valuable asset. How’s he going to do that running around? What if he gets distracted?”

“He’s not going to be running around and, he sure isn’t going to get distracted. I said Woofer was going to be protecting my most valuable asset.”

OK, at that point I could have let my feelings get hurt but knew Rand couldn’t possibly mean what it sounded like he was saying. Rand isn’t selfish about the wagon and mules and he is about the only one that it doesn’t take work to keep my mouth closed around so I can keep my foot out of it. Instead I just looked at him waiting for him to clarify what he meant. About boy howdy … that was some clarification when it came.

He looked at me, picked up the rope that was tied around Woofer’s collar and then wrapped the free end around my hand. “Woofer … guard!” Then he tilted my chin back and kissed me square on the lips for everyone and God to see. I was so stunned that not even the whistles and cheers coming from Hoss and Bradley who had arrived with several of Mr. Henderson’s other men broke off what I was concentrating on.

“Kiri, the world could burn down around me for all I care. You … you and the baby … you are the most valuable thing on Earth to me. So I’m asking you … nicely as I can … if you find yourself in a scrape of some kind to let Woofer do his job. OK?”

I was still uncrossing my eyes from that kiss so all that I could squeak out was, “OK.”

Suddenly a voice from behind me says, “Jeezly crow Joiner, you brought that dang crazy dog with you.”

“Yup.”

“All you have to say is ‘yup’?” Hoss asked incredulously.

“Yup.”

“Well I’ll be son … let’s hope people got smarts enough to give Kiri a wide berth. Blasted animal could take down a Brahma bull by itself, or give it a good shot anyway.”

Hoss did a double step backwards when Woofer turned to look at him and give him a doggy grin. Rand said I grinned too which is why Hoss took two steps and not just one. “Woofer, behave. Hoss is a friend. Friend, you hear? We don’t eat our friends. Well, not often. Hoss, let him smell your hand.”

“Kiri, I know I ain’t the sharpest crayon in the box but ain’t no way I’m gonna stick my hand down at that dog’s mouth. I saw what he did to Bradley’s pant leg when he jump off that fence and accidentally knocked into Rand.”

I said, “Aw, don’t hold that against him Hoss. He hadn’t been with us long and he didn’t really mean it.”

Bradley came up at that point and said, “Hang fire if he didn’t. But I don’t hold it against him none. Good guard dogs are worth their weight in gold and then some. Ain’t that right pooch. You’re a good dog you are. You get a little older I know a pretty little hound that I want to introduce you to. Her looks and your disposition should make one heck of a litter.”

OK, that was enough for me. It’s like birth and rebirth and the stuff that gets you there is about all that is on people’s minds these days, I couldn’t escape it.

I can’t tell the number of times that I nearly tripped over Woofer while we were at the swap meet. He didn’t twine between my legs as bad as Fraidy but my goodness, sometimes he could just sit right on my feet so that I couldn’t go anywhere. Mostly that would happen if there was a clump of people in front of us. A few times he drug me in a direction I hadn’t intended on going but for the most part I guess we made out OK. I was glad to have him a few times when strange men got a little closer than strictly necessary.

I saw Mrs. Withrow sitting at a table under a tree with some other ladies that looked familiar. I told Rand where I was going and then headed across the still fairly empty field to say hello. She pointed to where Brendon and Jonathon and the boys were unloading two wagons.

“Good suggestion child. People have been taking things off so fast that the boys just about haven’t had to do anything but stand back. That’s a load off my mind and Josiah and his wife now have room to bring in the things they had stored out in his daddy’s barn and make the house their own. I do have some more things that I want Rand to come pick up but I do believe after today everything else should be settled.”

I told her that I would let Rand know but Woofer was getting a little restless so we moved on. I heard someone call my name and turn to keep Woofer close when I saw Pastor Ken walking towards me. “Oh … hello Woofer. Do you mind if I have a word with your mistress?”

Woofer has finally come to terms with Ken coming over to the house. I wouldn’t call him friendly to Ken but he doesn’t get near as bent out of shape with him as he does with everyone else. Basically all Ken wanted to know was how I was feeling and if I’d had anymore pains. I had, but not bad ones.

“Still mild?”

“Pretty much. You said to keep an eye on them and I am. Mostly it just happens when I turn to the right too fast. If I watch what I’m doing then it isn’t really noticeable much.”

“Hmmm. That’s a lot of qualifiers in there. If it gets worse, even if it is just a little, I want to know about it.” Then he went on to visit with a few men I recognized from the Amen pew.

“What did Ken want?” Rand asked making me jump since I hadn’t heard him come up behind me.

“Huh? Oh, he was just asking how I was feeling,” I answered wondering how much Rand had heard.

“Why? Haven’t you been feeling all right?”

“Geez Louise, Rand. I’m fine. I’m really, really, really fine. Ken was just doing his job. I made it to the short list of people that he plans on checking on regularly. I wish you wouldn’t act like I’m going to break at any second. It makes me feel bad, like I’m a burden or something.”

“Sorry Babe. I’m trying. But … you would tell me if there was a problem, right?”

“Rand, there is no problem. I’m not made of spun sugar, I won’t dissolve with no warning. I promise I feel fine.”

“That’s not exactly what I asked but I guess it’ll have to do. Have you been to any of the booths yet?”

We hadn’t been there long and there was already more than twice as many people and booths as when we had arrived; I hadn’t noticed until then since I was standing in the middle. I realized I needed to start paying better attention to what was going on around me, like I used to. I was getting out of habits that I needed and getting into habits that I could do without. What happened later only reinforced that realization.

Right as we were about to start walking around Rand got called over by a group of men. I saw he was eager to go and told him I didn’t need a babysitter and to go be with his friends. Took me a few tries but I finally convinced him.

It was still brisk and I was glad of the coat I was wearing and Woofer who was leaning against my legs. “Ok, since you won’t let me go that way dog, which way will you let me walk your majesty?”

Woofer started taking me for a walk towards the less busy booths. The crazy dog wouldn’t let me get too close but I at least got a look at what was at the different tables. I saw knitted items; braided rugs; sandal-like shoes made from tires; shredded plastic bags that had been woven or crocheted into other items; plastic or aluminum squares that had been crocheted together to make carriers, hats and lots of other things; empty cans that had been snipped and bent into useful objects like lanterns and storage containers; empty juice envelopes that had been sewn together to make useful items. There were lots of items that people obviously brought from their own homes like clothes, small furniture items, hangers, wire, nails, tools, etc. Someone had even made a bunch of toys from wood.

There were also tables with food items like dried corn – both kernel and whole cob, jerky that was mostly venison, dried beans – mostly soy and black eyed, some dried pears and blackberries, and a cooler with fresh fish swimming just enough to stay alive a while longer. There were several tables set up that were selling seedlings, of both vegetable and tree varieties.

There were also what I have started calling the “craftsmen” types. I’m sure it isn’t what some learned academic type would call the folks like that but I don’t know what else to call them; skilled laborers maybe, though most of them were way more than that. They were advertising specific skills they had and not just stuff to sell. There were metalsmiths, blacksmiths, and blacksmiths; planters and harvesters; breeders of all types of farm animals and if they weren’t breeders they were trainers; weavers, seamstresses, and special types of needlework. There were carpenters, roofers, and furniture makers. There were tables with leather and animal hides next to people who were cobblers and who made harness and tack for animals. There were people who could take old truck bodies and turn them into wagons. There was a man there who said he knew how to clean and repair chimneys, and if you didn’t have a fireplace his brother knew how to build one for you.

I saw Uncle George talking to several people and when I walked by I heard them bargaining for the next litter of piglets or asking him about calves or studding services. I wasn’t wading into that many men just to say hello so I kept going; didn’t really have a choice as Woofer kept pulling me along.

By the time I’d gone around twice, I wasn’t bored exactly but I’d seen everything that interested me and was looking around to see what Rand was up to. That was when I saw a knot of men over to the side well away from the booths and there was obviously a brawl going on. That’s when I heard, “A pint on Joiner.” And then, “Two on Gilkins and his brothers.”

I know I promised. I know I did. Well, sorta. I said I would try. Try being the operative word. But I dare any wife or girlfriend, mother or even sister not to develop a sudden suspicion in their head and a zing in their step when they hear words similar to that.

As I walked by Uncle George I called, “Brendon! Jonathon! Clyde!”

Uncle George said, “Boys, better run and catch her. She’s on fire about something.”

“So long as it ain’t at me,” Brendon muttered grimly.

Woofer didn’t know whether to pull me faster or prevent me from going faster. I wound up grabbing him by his collar and dragging him along. He’s a dog. He’s not going to disobey a direct order from his owner even if it is the direct opposite of a previous order. Dogs are smart but few of them can really do more than give the appearance of human level reasoning. I got up to the wall of male backs and they weren’t moving.

I shouted, “Move!” and no one paid me any attention. The guys ran up at that point and pushed their way through. The noise on the other side only got worse and more of it. I’d finally had enough. I took the rope off Woofer’s collar and said, “Get Rand boy. Go get Rand!”

Woofer was through the legs in front of him like greased lightning and it was only seconds before I heard snapping and snarling and screams of pain. “Who’s dog is this?! Call ‘em off!!!” Other things were said as well but they aren’t worth printing for posterity.

I wasn’t satisfied until I heard Jonathon shout, “Call your dog Rand, he’s gonna tear out someone’s throat in about two seconds!!”

“Woofer! Woofer!! Heel doggone it. You’re supposed to be guarding Kiri you mangy mutt!!”

Then a guttural voice said, “I’m gonna kill me a dog and a man, two fer one.”

Of course that’s when I pointed the pistol I had already pulled out as soon as Woofer took off, aimed it at the trunk of the nearest tree and pulled the trigger. The 9 mm was awful loud but it was followed by an even louder silence in the whole swap meet.

Very carefully I spoke into the silence and said, “My Daddy always said to never pull a gun out if you weren’t absolutely prepared to use it. Would anyone like to ask me just how prepared I am right now? I’d be really happy to enlighten you. Any takers? Come on boys, I’m in the mood to demonstrate and show just out good a teacher I’ve had.”

Uncle George limped up then and said, “What in the Sam Hill is going on here?!”

Mr. Henderson in a very forbidding voice said, “I’d be interested in finding that out myself.”

The men finally parted and gave me a view of Rand still struggling up from the ground helped by Brendon and Jonathon. Blood ran from several cuts on his face, his shirt was torn, and he looked hotter than a road flare. Clyde was still going at it with some guy and there were three others that had obviously been in the brawl standing defiantly a little off to the side.

Something in my snapped, or maybe broke is a better word for it. Four. There had been four against one. There was a ringing in my ears and I could feel that numb feeling creeping over me only this time it wasn’t cold … it was hot, boiling, steaming, like I was broiling in the desert. The look on my face must have alerted Rand because he started towards me. I didn’t hear him call my name.

Everything stood out like a picture on one of those real expensive HD televisions used to. I remember thinking, “I won’t lose him too. I won’t. I won’t lose him too. I won’t …. “ over and over. I think that is why when one of the guys pulled a bowie knife I was prepared.

He lunged. Right at Rand. But before he’d taken more than a half-step the 9mm that I hadn’t holstered yet was up. I gave no warning this time. There was no mercy. I wasn’t going to be left alone, not again. One target, one bullet. I didn’t even have to think about plinking cans.

My gun followed the man’s body down to the ground and I was completely ready to put another bullet in him if he moved, but there was no need. The bullet, as close I had been, did so much damage to his chest that the only skills Pastor Ken needed was figuring out what he was going to say at the graveside service.

As soon as I was sure that the guy on the ground wasn’t moving then or in the future my gun came up and covered the other two guys that I considered the most immediate threat as they too had been going for weapons and heading in Rand’s directions, the other guy had just been quicker.

It felt like I was moving in slow motion but at some point I heard Jonathon asking Clyde if he had seen how fast I moved. Right then I still wasn’t hearing anything. That happens when I’m hyper focused. All I saw were the threats in front of me. I didn’t even notice that one of them had wet his drawers. They say that people had been trying to calm me down but I don’t recall. They say that my face was a death mask. I’ll take that with a grain of salt since it sounds like too much of an exaggeration. They also say that it was obvious that something was wrong, that I can believe because I wasn’t really there, not mentally.

I don’t know how long I would have stood like that but I felt Rand as he came around behind me. “Kiri. Babe. Uncle George and Mr. Henderson and some of the other men have things in hand. Come on. I’m right here. Everything’s OK.”

His hands slid down my arms and then over my hands that had a death grip on the pistol. “I’m right here Babe. Right here.”

It took everything I had to willingly soften my grip and let him take the gun. But then my heart just about burst when I realized he wasn’t putting it in his holster but tucking it back into mine. I thought, “I might be crazy, but not so crazy that he doesn’t trust me with the gun. He took the gun, but he didn’t take the gun away.”

As bad off as I was I still understood that. He gently turned me around and put his arms around me and whispered again in my ear, “I’m right here. I’m not going nowhere.”

That’s when the heat turned to ice and I started to shake, not so other people would notice but Rand, holding me against him, felt it. He started leading me away from the knot of men that still weren’t really moving from the spot they’d gotten glued to.

For a while I was pretty foggy. They told me later the only coherent thing that came out of my mouth for about twenty minutes was, “Four. It was four against one. No. No, no, no. Not again.”

Mrs. Withrow was there when I started coming back to myself. “It’s OK honey child. Everything’s OK now.”

I was rocking back and forth. To my shame there were tears on my face. I never cried in public. Never. But here I was with tears on my face for everyone to see. I wiped my face and looked at my hand, trying to comprehend the fact that my face was wet.

“Rand. Rand?! Where’s Rand?!”

“Easy child. He’ll be right back. He’s talking to some of the elders, explaining what happened from his side of things.”

I wanted to get up and go look for him. I realized I was still a little off though because when I went to stand up things tilted and it was either sit down or fall down.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 74B

Mrs. Withrow must have signaled someone because suddenly Pastor Ken was there. “I don’t think so Kiri. Come on now. Let’s get those feet back up and I want you to stay sat. Come on now, you can humor me for a few minutes can’t you?”

I focused on him and asked, “Where’s Rand? Is he OK? Did the guy with the knife … “

“Rand is fine, or will be now that you aren’t so shocky. You scared … “

“There were four of them! Four! Four against one! How could he be OK?!” I could hear panic in my voice but I couldn’t seem to control it. Didn’t really feel like controlling it if I’m completely honest.

“Rand is tough as old shoe leather. He’s a little banged up, gonna be sore for a day or two, but he’s OK. Now hold still and be good and let me take your blood pressure again.”

Old habits die hard and Ken was my doctor as well as my Pastor. I tried to stay as calm as possible. I at least registered that if I didn’t stay calm the blood pressure reading was going to cause me trouble. I learned that in the hospital. I learned that when they came to take my blood pressure I could focus and moderate my breathing and that helped to moderate my heart beats.

“Hmmmm,” Ken said suspiciously. “Your pressure is much better but you still aren’t off the hook. I want you to lean back here and keep your feet up.”

Mrs. Withrow said, “I’ll stay with her but you better get that boy over here quick. Tell those old fools that he’s talking to that whatever they want can wait. She needs to see Rand and I mean right now.” Several other ladies that were sitting around near me nodded their heads and said, “Uh huh, Pastor … you can tell my husband for one.” “Mine too, you tell him to let that boy come over here right now.”

Thank God for Mrs. Withrow. I don’t know how she understood but she did. And the other ladies. I didn’t know how to tell them how glad I was that someone understood. I felt cold, like I would never warm up again. And part of it was that I wasn’t sorry that I had killed that man. Now, with just a little distance from what happened I’m remorseful that it came to that but I can’t even pretend that I wouldn’t do the same thing all over again if presented with the same situation. I don’t know if there is something wrong with my conscience or if it goes deeper than that. What kind of mother am I going to be?

Rand was there before I had time to worry at it any more. He gathered me up in a hug and I whispered into his chest, “I want to go home. Let’s go home Rand. Now. I just want us to go, to go home where we are safe.”

His hug tightened for a minute and then he whispered back, “We need to stay for a while longer.”

“Why? Am I in trouble? Am I … “

“Shhhhh … no … no, not that. Enough people saw what Harris was aiming to do. It’s not that. And no, I’m not in any trouble either so don’t look like that. We just need to stay for a while longer.”

“Why? Rand … “

“Babe, we’ll talk about it in a little while. OK? After things have calmed down. When we get home. Right now just … just trust me Kiri. People need to see how you feel and … Babe, just trust me. We’ll go home soon. OK?”

I did trust him and I knew that something else was going on but it was beyond me to be able to figure it out right then. So I stayed with Mrs. Withrow and the other ladies while he went away to do other things. I was upset that he would leave, go where I couldn’t see him. I knew as soon as I thought it that I was being irrational but that is the way I felt at that moment.

But it got worse, I wanted to dig a hole and crawl in. People kept coming by. I could feel them staring. Some insisted on coming around and patting me or giving me a hug. They didn’t understand that what they were doing only made me want to pull inside myself more. I had just enough sense left to know that most of them only wanted to be nice, like most of the hospital staff. They didn’t mean to rub against my psyche like coarse sandpaper. I kept hearing, “It’s going to be all right now.”

Now? It was all right before … before that Harris tried to destroy my world, to make me alone again. Now didn’t feel like it would ever be all right again. It was the VRC all over again. I wanted to leave. I was desperate to leave but Rand said we needed to stay and even in as bad a shape as I was in I knew that Rand wouldn’t make me stay for no good reason.

I was just beginning to get control of myself when things got bad again. I saw the older ladies had started to fluff up like mother hens and I heard some protesting then she was there, in my face.

“You’re nothing but a murderer. Look at you, sitting there, acting like you’re crazy. But you aren’t are you? You’re crafty. You don’t belong around here, you never have. You think just because you’re parents built that place that … “

Mrs. Withrow said, “Lucretia Gilkins, that’s quite enough.”

“Enough? I haven’t even started. My poor brother in law was left lying in the dirt. What am I supposed to tell my children about their uncle?”

I couldn’t let these frail old ladies defend me. I turned my head and looked her in the eye and said, “You won’t be telling your children anything. You lost them because you were more interested in feeling sorry for yourself than you were in taking care of them. As for that poor excuse of an uncle they had, he pulled a knife and would have killed my husband. We won’t talk about your husband and what a poor excuse of a provider he was, what a drunk; everyone already knows that sad story. Having any better luck with the man that you moved into your bed before your husband’s corpse was even in the ground a day?”

She was nearly choking on her venom, “You worthless piece of …. How dare you talk to me like that? Is that kid even Rand’s? I put all the stories I used to hear about you down to people trying to create a new boogie man to scare their kids with. I thought Rand had better sense … and better taste. But you’re even worse that what people said. You’re a sociopath. You have no remorse for any of the people you’ve murdered do you? When that kid’s born they better take it away or you’ll kill it too.”

I heard the other women gasp. I never got the chance to answer back, though I’m not sure what I would have sad. Tia Cia had showed up and she had blood in her eye.

“Get … a … way … now. Do not ever think you can come begging for help at the Ranch again. You are now nada y nadie to me. And you can tell that to your husband’s kinsmen as well. They proved they are traidor … treacherous.”

“I guess Henderson has more to say about that than you do housekeeper.”

Mr. Henderson stepped up and said, “That’s Mrs. Henderson to you. And everyone else too. Cia and I were married last night.”

For the first time Lucretia looked scared. “No. No you … you can’t do that. We buy corn and feed from you. We have a contract.”

“I had a contract with your husband. He’s dead and I haven’t received payment for the shipment he received. I call the contract null and void. End of discussion. Besides, you aren’t going to need anything like that in the near term, your other brother in laws are going to be busy working off what they owe me. And other people are coming to take payment on what you owe, one way or the other. I doubt if you’ll be doing much more than barely getting by any time soon. You’ve burnt too many of your bridges Lucretia.”

Then he turned to me, “Kiri, girl, you don’t listen to a single, poisonous word that woman says. She let her husband’s drunkenness eat her all up. She’s been like that for a while. Hard times is only making her worse. Did you hear what I said?”

I wanted to tell him it was OK, that I was OK, but all that came out was, “Where’s Rand?”

Mr. Henderson sighed then looked at Uncle George who had walked over, “He’s taking care of a few other things. And he’s helping to bury the body.”

“Wha … what?! Why?! I should be with him, helping him.”

“Talk sense girl. You’re in no condition to be up to something like that. Now you stay here.” He tipped his hat to the ladies and he walked over to Uncle George and they started talking but with all the other low conversation going on I couldn’t understand anything that was being said. Tia Cia was talking quietly to the ladies, Cassie was with her but when she saw me looking around she came over and sat beside me.

“It really will be OK Kiri. Really. But you need to try and … not be upset. Think about the baby.”

“Huh?”

“The baby … think about the baby. You know you can’t … can’t … the shock isn’t good for you or the baby. Pastor Ken …”

“What did he say?” I asked, started to get worried.

“Um … “ she said starting to look around a little desperately.

“Cassie … p p p please.” I was ready to beg at that point. I hadn’t been thinking about the baby, not in those terms.

She sighed and then leaned forward, “Shock for someone who is pregnant is life threatening. He’s saying one of the reasons you were so out of it is because your blood pressure and other metabolic stuff was affected. He didn’t want you moved for a while just in case …”

“Just in case what?”

“Just in case Kiri. You know what I mean. The other part … the other part I think I get better than the men do. I might not have before but now I think I do. And listen to me Kiri … Rand isn’t going any place. He’s fine. As for the fighting, it used to drive us girls crazy growing up. The boys were always fighting and Rand was one of the worst, always having to prove himself. He grew out of it but not out of the … toughness I guess you want to call it because it is part of who he is. It’s not just … um … how can I say this? Look when the boys brawled with each other it wasn’t always the biggest guy that won. Or the craftiest fighter. Usually it was the one that could outlast the others. It’s not that Rand never lost a fight, it’s just that except for a few occasions when he lost it’s just because he got bored or tired of it and went down on his own. A lot depended on who he was fighting and Harris isn’t one he would have just laid down and surrendered to. Especially … “

“Especially?”

She wouldn’t look me in the eye but did answer, “They were name calling and making threats … against y’alls place, the animals …” and after a deep sigh, “against you. Asking if the baby was really Rand’s and saying some other nasty stuff about you. From what I heard listening to Mitch they weren’t the kinds of threats that Rand could or would allow himself to ignore. And the Gilkins brothers have gotten a reputation the last few months if you know what I mean … of fulfilling their threats. They’re bullies, but they’re dangerous bullies and this isn’t the school playground.”

I was confused. “Wait, people said this guy’s name was Harris.”

“Yeah, Harris Gilkins. He’s the … was the youngest brother of about 8 boys. They were almost like stair step kids. Lucretia’s husband was one of them. Mark and Steve died of the flu. Harris … well, you kinda met Harris. Marshall, Davis, and Johnson were the other three in the fight. Levi … Levi was disowned by the family about five years ago when he turned Steve into the cops for a bad beating he gave some girl he was dating at the time. He’s a minister over in Lake City and Pastor Ken talks to him every week or so to find out how things are going over there.”

“Has this … what I did … started a feud?”

“Poppy is handling it Kiri. So is Rand. It’ll only be a real feud if other people take sides. That’s probably why Rand doesn’t want to leave yet. He needs people to see he isn’t afraid and he needs people to see how upset you are … that you aren’t just running away like cowards. Those guys really do owe Poppy and … he’s um … sending them someplace to work it off. That really only leaves Lucretia and Lemuel. Lemuel won’t get involved. Mitch said he is a coward and hated the Gilkins brothers because they treated him so bad. Lucretia will run her mouth but with the brothers not here to back her up I doubt she’ll do anything but run her mouth. I wouldn’t turn my back on her though.”

Cassie looked over at Tia Cia and then back at me and after hesitating asked, “Kiri, what’s the word for grandmother? In Spanish I mean.”

“Abuela or some people say Abuelita.”

“Abuel –ee-ta? Is that how you pronounce it?”

“Yeah … why?”

“I don’t know what to call her. She’s not … I mean she’s not just an auntie to me now. She’s Poppy’s wife. What do I call her? No way do I feel comfortable calling her Cia or Hortencia.”

“So why don’t you ask her?”

“Because I … because I want to do this right. I’ve made a mess of things Kiri. This thing with Poppy … I want him to be happy, it’s just so weird.”

My head was spinning and I had just killed a man, and she thought I had answers for her? I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Talk to her Cassie, you might be surprised what she says. She’s seems like a cool lady.”

“Talk about what to whome?” Tia Cia asked catching us both unprepared.

“She wanted to know what the word for grandmother was in Spanish,” I answered for both of us.

I thought Cassie was going to have a coronary but the look on Tia Cia’s face was priceless. “Oh, me chiquita,” and she wrapped strong arms around Cassie in a big hug. It only took a second for Cassie to shyly hug her back. Whatever happens from here on out, at least they seem to be on a better path.

I wish I felt as confident for myself. I didn’t know what to do with myself until someone handed me a cup of tea. It was sweet, someone had over done the honey … or so I thought at the time.

Rand came back a few minutes later with Woofer in tow. Rand’s face was … I don’t know how to put into words what his expression was, all I know is that there was a lot going on under the surface but I don’t think too many people recognized that. I did.

I didn’t have much choice at that point. I had wanted to go home but now I didn’t know if I did. Going home meant dealing with what was under the surface.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 75A

I was going to walk but Rand wouldn’t hear of it. “No. End of discussion. Ken says you are to stay off your feet for a while. Don’t wriggle or I’ll find a wheelbarrow and dump you in it.”

I suppose I would normally have gotten hacked off at that kind of bossiness but I was beginning to feel even more detached from reality than I already was. And I was confused about whether he was trying to tease me about the time I’d put him in a wheelbarrow or if he was finally all out of patience with me and a wheelbarrow would just have been convenient. He wouldn’t let anyone else touch me which I suppose should have told me something since I know it must have hurt him after the fight. He did let Brendon help him to put me in the back of the wagon but nothing beyond that.

“I want you to lay here. Don’t … just don’t Kiri.”

“Don’t what?” I wondered in my head as he covered me with a blanket that someone passed up to him. I heard him talking to Ken, something about him following us back to the house. It was at that point that things got fuzzy around the edges.

Next time I can recall opening my eyes I was tucked up in our bed. The stove was lit and it had been lit at least long enough to chase all the damp from the room. I lifted my head and then nearly jumped out of my skin when Rand leaned forward from the chair he’d been sitting in.

“Hi, you awake now?”

“Yeah, I guess. What … that drink. Rand, I think somebody doped my drink!”

“Easy. It was a mild sedative, that’s all. It actually wasn’t supposed to make you fall asleep, just keep you quiet and comfortable until we could get you home.”

“What?! You told them they could … And I suppose I’m not supposed to be upset about that, right?” But then I just ran out of energy to fight and decided it just wasn’t worth it. “Yeah. Ok. So I guess I was a mess. But what’s going on? Why … ? I don’t … something’s not … still not right.”

I was so disoriented. I’m still a little confused, just for real now and not from a drug. It’s helped to try and make sense of things by writing them out. I sort of understand why they did it but couldn’t they have just explained it to me first? Surely I wasn’t that far gone that I wouldn’t have understood.

“Rand? Something’s wrong. I know you said no but, I’m in a lot of trouble aren’t I?”

“No. No, it wasn’t near as bad as … well as I was worried it was going to be. The Gilkins brothers have lost a lot of friends and made at least as twice that many enemies the last couple of months. And a lot of people saw what happened. But Babe … I … “

Tired of being confused and on the edge of getting angry I said, “Rand, I’d rather you just say it instead of leaving me to guess it.”

“Why? Why did you come over and get involved? How could you not think … “

“Think? About what?”

“About what?! You’re carrying my baby! I …” He shook his head and then said, “No. Ken said you need to have calm for a while. That … that this is all … it’s like a sum total of … all the stuff you’ve been through and … “

Still feeling snarky I said, “You mean he thinks I’m three-quarters crazy and that’s what he’s telling other people. And that’s what is keeping me out of trouble, not because anyone really believes that what I did was self defense.”

“Babe … it’s not like that … it’s … “

“Rand, I don’t need to be pacified! I … I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted. Look, I admit it’s been a long time since I have felt that angry. I … I don’t have an excuse and I’m not going to try and make one up. When I saw … what I saw … there were four of them Rand … four against one. I could have lost … alone … all alone Rand. I couldn’t stand it. I just couldn’t ….”

And I broke down all over again. I was shaking and it took what little bit I had left not to wail and rock back and forth like I really was crazy. “Kiri I don’t understand what you mean … Wait. Alone? Were you … you thought … That’s why … ? Mrs. Withrow was trying to tell me something but … that was what this was all about? It wasn’t about you thinking I couldn’t take care of myself, that you needed to help me? You thought that … Kiri, Babe, look at me.”

But I was close to losing it again. I still don’t know what was wrong with me; if it was left over shock or hormones or left over sedative, or if I really was having a case of the crazies. All I could do was scramble to the bathroom and puke; only there wasn’t anything to puke up so I just heaved and gagged, barely able to breathe and causing little red dots to break out all over my face that are just now disappearing. I hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast and I had no idea what time it was because Rand had left the shutters closed. It was later, that’s all I know.

It took a while but I finally calmed down enough that Rand could take me back to the bed. I felt cold again. Some of it was being on the tile of the bathroom floor but some of it was cold on the inside, the kind that nothing can warm up. I felt so ashamed of how weak I was. Me. The girl who doesn’t need anyone. The girl who survived the wreck, crawled out of the wheelchair when everyone said I never would, made it through foster care, lived through the worst highschool could throw at me, survived the flu and the warehouse, travelled by myself all the way from Tampa. And here I was crying like a baby, scared of being alone. In the end all of it was too much; I think I shut down again.

The next thing I remember is Rand’s voice and Uncle George’s sitting in chairs over by the stove. “Son, fear is like a wild beast. You used to scare me to death with some of the things you would get up to but it never seemed to phase you at all. I wondered if there was anything you were afraid of. Hanging tobacco for old man Upton in those old barn rafters like you was a monkey, racing cars and playing chicken out on River Road like you wasn’t afraid of dying, all those fights, some with grown men twice your size. It would eat at me sometimes and I know I didn’t always handle you well. After your aunt died I didn’t have anyone to share the burden of those fears with, fears for you or fears for the other children. I was on my own with you children to raise. It was so bad some nights that between the fear and the loneliness I could barely breathe much less sleep. All I could do was read the Bible and pray the sun would rise.”

“I … I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want you, any of you, to know so I kept it inside. But you are about to be a father and you need to learn how to be the right kind of strong when that is the last thing you think you can be; I wasn’t always the right kind of strong. I didn’t always go about it right and part of that is I couldn’t admit to anyone I was weak, especially not you kids. There were things that needed doing. The farm, paying the bills, keeping you kids fed and clothed … bailing you and Brendon out of trouble but at the same time figuring out when not to bail you out so you’d learn a lesson and not make the same mistakes again. Looking back I don’t know how I did it. People kept telling me to get remarried so I’d have a helpmate, I just couldn’t stomach the idea. You learn to live with things day in and day out you never could have imagined you’d have to face even once. But then, out of the blue suddenly holding all of that in will turn around in slap you in the face so hard you see stars.”

“But I still don’t understand. Kiri … she … “

“Boy, none of us knows exactly how bad her life was. You’ve told me some things tonight, makes me understand her better, but even you don’t know how bad she was hurt. You’ve seen the scars she has on the outside, but do you know all the scars she has on the inside? If I had to guess, I’d say probably not. She was strong on her own for as long as she needed to be or maybe just as long as she had to be. Then you come along and she starts getting comfortable with the idea that she ain’t got to fight by herself no more. She ain’t got to be on her guard quite so much cause someone’s got her back. She probably hadn’t had that since her family died from the sound of it. You found the one chink in her armor. She was lonesome for friendship, real friendship.”

“I didn’t take advantage of her!”

“Good Lord, I didn’t say you did Son. She’s been good for you too. I wasn’t the only one what noticed you two got on from the get go and how you seemed to be different when she was around. Not by a long shot. And you’ve turned into a fine husband if I’m allowed to say so.”

“She’s always been different from the other girls.”

“She is that Son. She is that. And she’s strong, stronger than maybe even you understand. But Boy I’ll tell you for a fact she was shook up after the VRC, and it wasn’t from that big Russian choking her. We was all tore up but Kiri … Boy, I don’t think you realize just how shook she was. Henderson let slip some of the things his men saw. He said the men gave her some space cause it look like she could have dug that Rooskie up and done worse to him than what was already done. She’s hid it well but I don’t think she got over it quite as well as maybe she let on.”

“She came back from that, she’ll come back from this. She has to. I just don’t understand why … why she’s sleeping like this. And after it happened, it’s like she ... she … Uncle George I’ve never seen her like this. We’ve had a couple of rough spells but nothing like this.”

“Boy, ain’t you listening to me?” He paused like he was at a loss for words then continued. “Son, you want to know why I decided to take myself off the Deacon’s list? It was having to sit with women as their husband’s were dying. Or help them when they were widows, trying not to hear them tell stories about their man and how he used to do this, that, or the other; trying not to hear the loneliness. It called to my own too much. It’s not that the work they asked of me was too hard. The work I could do. It was being around … around … They had holes in ‘em Son, holes so full of sorrow you could just about see it with your regular eyes; deep wells of it. It was seeing them know that their protector and lover was gone and wasn’t coming back. You remember how Mrs. Withrow was and how she was almost content to give up when she got sick not long after her Mister died. I still don’t know what kept her hanging on for as long as she did. And Kiri’s already got sorrow holes in her. I recon she feels like losing you would just be too much and she’d be nothing but sorrow at that point.”

“Kiri isn’t like that. And she’s young. We haven’t even known each other a year. If something did happen to me she could get over it.”

“You think so Boy? For her to be so young she’s already suffered more than most have at twice her age. And what about you? How easy would it be for you to get on if this baby takes Kiri away? You got a potential wife picked out in case she dies in childbirth and you need some help raising the baby? Hmmm?”

“Don’t say that!” I heard Rand snarl in a tone I’ve never heard him use with his uncle.

“Not so easy when the shoe is on the other foot is it Boy? And she does have this baby to think of now. She’s probably scared to death and not even realizing it yet. Probably what happened was everything just hit her. You already told me she had problems dealing with the feelings when she had to kill those other men. Kiri is something else, and I’m not sure what, but a natural born killer ain’t it. She does what she feels necessary but it don’t ride easy on her. All her talk says she doesn’t care about other people and what they thing but her actions say the exact opposite. Look how she is with Momma O and Mrs. Withrow, You see how she is with the boys. Even you, in the beginning; she didn’t have to bring you in and take care of you. The way you looked some would have just run away and let the vultures have you. She’s even made nice with Ron and Julia though she’s got reason enough to stay away from them. But she’s just let it go and I guess that is more for your sake than for theirs. Even if its true and she doesn’t care much about other people for their sake or her own, she’ll care about them for your sake. She can accept the caring if she thinks she is doing it for your sake. That’s how she justifies letting people get closer when she wouldn’t normally allow it for all the tea in China.”

I floated in and out for another hour I guess, long enough to hear Uncle George leave with Brendon. I didn’t really wake up until I felt something cold on my back. “I need to make you a sock for that stethoscope,” I gasped. “You’re going to freeze someone to death with it one of these days if I don’t.”

Pastor Ken gave a surprised chuckle and said, “Well, hello there bright eyes. I know someone that is going to be happy to see you’re awake.”

But first he asked me all sorts of typical questions like how many fingers was he holding up and how did I feel and did I hurt anywhere. He stuck his head out the door and said something I didn’t catch and then Rand rushed into the room and over to the bed.

I was sitting up, leaning against the pillows trying to get a half formed apology passed my lips.

“No more Kiri, all I care about is that you’re OK.”

“I’ve made a mess of things haven’t I?”

Pastor Ken stepped back into the room and said, “Kiri, I’d rather you not get upset, especially by worrying this to death. What happened was unfortunate, but God forgive me, it would have been more unfortunate had it been Rand on that ground instead of Harris. And as many folks as I have talked to today, that is the general consensus of everyone.”

“How? How can they just say it’s OK? It’s … I … “

“Kiri! That’s better, focus on my voice young lady. No one is saying that what happened is OK. But of all the scenarios that were most likely to play out, this was the least destructive for all concerned. Now I really don’t want to give you another sedative seeing how you reacted to the first one, but you need to stay calm. Rand, give me a moment more to talk to Kiri.”

“Well at least now I know who to thank for that blasted trip into the Twilight Zone,” I sniped at Ken at the same time Rand asked, “Why? Is there something I should know?” He can be belligerent when he gets protective.

“Rand, I’ll talk to you in a moment, just let me talk to Kiri first.” Rand left the room but he wasn’t very happy about it.

Getting worried I asked, “Is there something wrong? Did I do something to the baby?”

“I don’t believe so, not this time, but we need to be realistic and I’ve got some orders that I doubt you’ll be pleased with. You are on bed rest for another twenty-four hours until I make sure that your blood pressure is back under control. I didn’t like your readings at all this morning and they’ve been fluctuating all afternoon. After that, you are on modified rest for a week.”

“A week?! I can’t … “

“Kiri you can and you will. Rand will explain it to you and I want you to listen with your brain and not just with your pig headedness. We’ll see how it goes after that.”

“Why? Is it the baby? But you said everything was OK.”

“I said I think everything is OK but I’m going to be frank since you seem to prefer that. You’ve had a series of severe shocks culminating in what I believe is an exaggerated delayed reaction this morning. In each instance you faced you did what you had to do but it still left an imprint on you. In other circumstances there would be no question but that you would be fine physically, but you are pregnant and you are going to have to start taking that into account in all you do. If you had a baby in your arms you would not have done some of the things you have done. From here on out I want you to start thinking like you do have a baby in your arms at all times, which physiologically is very close to your reality. Which brings me to my next point. Rand says that you target practice nearly every day. Is that true?”

“Yes. I used to be pretty bad now … now … I’m … I’m sorry. I … I wasn’t bragging. Honest.“

“I didn’t think you were. There is nothing wrong with increasing your skills at something, especially something useful. And if you hadn’t increased your skill level along the way there are several people that would no longer be walking this earth and I have a suspicion I might be one of them. But as to that I don’t want you to be upset but I’m asking you to put your practicing on hold until after the baby is born.”

“Why?!”

“Well, while there is some debate, it is generally considered good practice if women who are pregnant avoid firing weapons. There are auditory issues for both the mother and the fetus and there is some thought that breathing in the polluted air surrounding active weapons firing … the chemicals in the air like gun powder … is an unnecessary risk due to a pregnant woman’s already burdened lung capacity and that some of the chemicals could cross the placental barrier.”

“What about women in the military? Women who were police officers?”

“That’s part of the debate. So are women who skeet shoot as a hobby on a regular basis or who like to hunt. From my standpoint, given that it isn’t something that you absolutely have to do every day, I would like you to voluntarily refrain from the activity.”

“What does Rand have to say?”

He snorted and asked, “What do you think he has to say? I could say you need to visit a Miami health resort and he’d already have started shutting down the house and piling the wagon to get you there.”

Put in my place a bit I said, “Ok, so bed rest, then modified rest for a week, and no shooting.”

“And … “

“There’s more?! Isn’t all that enough? I can guarantee you that I’m not going to start taking any pills so you can forget that no matter what Rand says.”

“No, no pills, in fact the exact opposite. There are some things I want you to be watchful of and for.” Then he went on to give me a list of signs or symptoms that could indicate something was wrong with the baby or with me. I have to say it all shook me up. It didn’t even phase me when he said he didn’t want me to take anything … not even a Tylenol … without asking him first. And he was consulting with Tia Cia about what types of herbal teas I would be allowed to drink; until he came up with a “safe” list I wasn’t to have any at all. He’d spooked me, making me realize I wasn’t me anymore. I mean I was me, it’s that I wasn’t only me anymore.

When he left the room I heard him tell Rand to sit down and they talked for a few minutes and then Rand walked him out to the porch. When Rand came back in I heard the squeak, squeak, squeak as he rolled down the front door shutter so I knew that it was late enough and that there wouldn’t be any more visitors for the night.

I was thirsty and I was sitting up trying to pour water out of the pitcher on the nightstand when Rand walked in our room. “Here, let me get that.”

“Rand … “


“Babe, just let me help. You are shaking and you’re going to dump this all over yourself if you aren’t careful.”

He poured the water and gave me time to take a few sips to make sure it would stay down. “Kiri, we need to talk.”

“I know. Ken’s already laid down the law. I’m so sorry Rand. You’ve got all of your work and now mine too. I’m so …”

“Look at me. Let’s get one thing clear and then have done with it. I’m … not … sorry. Harris meant to kill me. At the very least I would have been knifed in the back and hurt bad putting me down for who knows how long. I don’t know what his damage was, and I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from … from any of it. But no matter what Kiri, I’m glad I’m still here to talk to you, to hold your hand, to just be with you. God has our last breath figured out for each of us, but when ever that time is for me … if you still need me, I’ll fight to stay with you.”

“Oh Rand. I don’t mean to be so needy. I never was before. I don’t know what is wrong with me!”

“Whoa now, Ken is going to scalp me if you get upset again. Look at me Babe. I don’t think you’re needy … or if you are it’s because I need you to need me. And there isn’t anything wrong with you. You’re you, and that’s what I want … and need … in my life. The rest of it we’ll figure out together.”

“Have I caused you problems? Cassie said … “

“You aren’t causing me problems and what has that dang motor mouth said now?”

“Wait Rand! It wasn’t like that at all. She was being nice. She explained things. About the Gilkins brothers and how what they were saying weren’t the kind of things that could just be let to pass. And … “

“She had no business telling you … “

“She told me because I asked Rand. I can’t process information if I don’t have it in the first place.”

“Still … “

“Still nothing, I’m never going to be the kind of girl that would rather not know things … at least I don’t think I’m that type of girl. Maybe I’d be better off … “

“We aren’t going there Kiri. I’m done with that subject. I like you … no, I love you … just the way you are. But … we are going to have to change the way we do a few things. We both are. You’re right, I can’t keep doing it all myself. I saw Uncle George try that and I’m not going there. Ken had an idea … look Kiri, I don’t know how you’re going to feel about this but it’s the best solution we were able to come up with. There’s a boy, he’s ten years old or says he is. Pastor Ken found him wandering down a lane picking up acorns and eating them right after that first cold snap. He’d been living by himself in an abandoned hay barn behind Hookerman’s creek. He doesn’t talk much but he’s an all right kid; I met him today at the swap meet. He’s been staying with Momma O’s family but they really don’t have the room or the food for an extra mouth, not with Sadie pregnant now too. Maybe after spring harvest things will be better but the boy needs to go to a family that has the extra food right now. And I need the help.”

“You mean Ken wants … you want … us to bring this boy here? To help with chores or … or to be part of the family? Which one?”

“I don’t know Kiri, at least until after the baby is born for sure. I know I need the help. No one knows much about where he came from, he won’t talk about it, but there haven’t been any chores that he’s been set that he hasn’t been able to do. He knows his way around animals and Momma O said he helped set rows out in their garden and knew the difference between a weed and a seedling when he helped Paul hoe some of the rows. He’s not a local but if I had to guess he’s lived on a farm before.”

“I’m not saying no Rand but why us, why not Mr. Henderson or one of the families that work for him? I know there are people that are better off than folks know we are.”

“They have taken in kids at the ranch. In fact they’ve got so many they almost don’t have the adults to give them the attention they need. Other people already have kids and bringing in another one … not everyone is cut out to look after other people’s kids. Uncle George kept thinking about taking in the boy because they already have Mick and Tommy but there’s space problems at their place already and soon there will be two babies under the one roof and another one under the other. Mrs. Withrow mentioned that you were already used to a house full of boys of all ages and Momma O pointed out how well you handled Mick, Tommy, and some of the other boys during church; they never seem to irritate you or make you lose your cool they way they get to some folks.”

“All right. Fine. But Rand, what does the boy want?”

“Huh?”

“Has anyone bothered to ask the boy what he wanted?”

“Uh, I … I don’t know.”

“Someone better ask him. I saw what happened to boys that were pulled from pillar to post in foster care. If they didn’t feel like they had any control in their life they’d find something else to try and control.”

I gave it some thought but it just felt right for some reason. “I guess if the boy isn’t going to feel like he’s being kidnapped for slave labor … I guess OK. But we don’t make any promises to him we can’t keep. It’s not fair for anyone involved. Him holding us to promises we’ll never be able to fulfill and us expecting him to wait around forever for us to fulfill promises we’re not even sure we should have made in the first place.”

“I can live with that. Ken said he would talk to him tomorrow and if everything works out they’ll bring him by on Monday.”

After a minute Rand asked, “You weren’t just talking about the boy were you. Did anyone ever ask what you wanted? Growing up I mean. Did they ever ask you?”

“No. It’s no big deal now. Then yeah … yeah then it was a huge deal and I resented it like crazy. There’s nothing worse than having absolutely no say over your life when you don’t know whether you can trust the people that are telling you what your life is going to be day in and day out. It’s about like I imagine being in prison would be like. It might have been a gilded cage but it was still a locked cage.”

“I’m sorry Babe.”

“Don’t be, it wasn’t your doing. I’d go through it all again if I could be sure … absolutely positively sure … that I’d still wind up here, with you.”

“Aw Babe.”

“That’s what’s so hard. Having made it through all of that … that mess my life used to be … to get here … and then the idea of losing it. And the worst thing? The worst thing is knowing that no matter what I do … it could happen in a blink of an eye. Because there are no promises in this life made by man that can’t be broken. None. In the end it’s all between us and God and even when we don’t understand it we just have to take it. No matter how bad it is. Because in the end, we aren’t the ones in control.”

“We have choices. God created us with free will.”

“Yeah, all of us. So even if I chose to do all the right things, some goofy kid could decide to have a drink, just a small one but big enough to make him act just a little stupid. And his little stupid leaks over on top of my doing everything right … and soon enough you’re riding along in a car and because of his little bit of stupid your whole life changes and you lose everyone you love, that loves you.“

“Kiri, Babe … “

“I’m all right Rand, I just … sometimes it all seems like too much. I have to be responsible for myself and at the same time I have to accept when other people’s choices impact my life. Sometimes I’d really rather not have anything to do with other human beings.”

“You think I was being irresponsible, getting in a fight with … “

“No! No, that’s not what I meant. I know guys have these ultimate taboo things. Just … just forget it Rand, I’m in a funky mood. You know me … weird, moody, and … “

“Kiri, no more. Look at me. Whatever is going on, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

“Forever right?”

“As forever as I have a choice about.”

I sighed, finally willing to let go of whatever awful mood had swallowed me up. “Then I guess … I guess that will have to be enough.”

It was really late by then and even though I hadn’t eaten since breakfast I couldn’t drink the broth Rand wanted me to; eventually it was just easier for both of us if I went back to sleep. He wasn’t far behind me because I felt him slide between the sheets and eventually we wound up tangled together like we usually do except without the other stuff because Ken had said none of that for a while either.

This morning I felt sluggish, like I was walking through molasses when I got up from the bed to go to the bathroom and clean myself up. I heaved a bit but Rand had toast ready for me when I walked out of the bathroom. It was on a TV tray and there was even a fake flower in a bottle on it. “Sorry, no real flowers. The camellias are blooming but I didn’t notice until I was already bringing the tray.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 75B

I smiled but it was only skin deep. He kept trying to tease me saying things like if I get crumbs in the bed he’s sleeping on the sofa and that sort of thing. I tried, I really tried but I just couldn’t shake my mood. Too many things were crowding my ears wanting to be heard and I didn’t want to listen to any of it.

I know there was a church service today. I know it sounded like some people came by and stopped out in the yard but Rand didn’t bring any of them inside. He’d come inside to check on me and I’d be dreading him saying someone wanted to see me but then he’d just say so-and-so came by asking how I was. I know it’s perverse but I’d then feel bad because they’d come by just to ask and not to see for themselves.

I was slowly sliding into a vegetative state, trying not to complain about being bored when Rand himself was so busy, when the next time he came in he brought the little portable desk that had come from Mrs. Withrow and my journal and pen set. “Sorry I didn’t think of this sooner. You should have asked. You’re probably going nuts being forced to stay in here all by yourself. I hope the people coming by haven’t bothered you. Some wanted to step in and say hello but you’re still in your nightclothes and I know how you are about that.”

Gosh, I nearly kicked myself for being so stupid. Of course Rand was just trying to protect me and give me the space I normally crave. It got worse when he said, “Just about everyone who has stopped by has brought something. There’s several pans of cornbread and pots of beans and some stews in there when you get hungry. Momma O and Mrs. Withrow organized it. I wished you’d let me go ahead and fix you a plate to eat now, you haven’t really had a full meal since breakfast yesterday.”

People are funny. Here I was scared to death that I had managed to totally wreck all we’ve worked so hard to build, wrecked the future that I had started putting some confidence into again, and it seems like it is the exact opposite. People are still willing to give what little they have to show they care. It gave me something to chew on besides self pity until Pastor Ken arrived.

“Feeling better?”

I nodded. “Getting there. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“None of these people … I mean the people that dropped the food off … none of them … they’re not hurting because they sent some food here are they?”

He smiled. “I don’t think so. The ladies of the church are very careful not to ask any more from families than what they can give. And as far as I know those that did bring something did so voluntarily and not just because they were asked. There were so many that wanted to come by that Mrs. Withrow had to remind them you’d had a bad shock and were on best rest.”

“You’re not just saying that so I won’t have a melt down or anything are you?”

“No. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Well, I didn’t mean lie, just kind of soft coat it.”

He chuckled and said, “No. Not even that. Kiri I’m telling you that people aren’t holding what happened against you. There are a few that don’t know what to make of it being a female who did it but usually when they open their mouths about that there is some woman nearby that is more than willing to enlighten them.” He changed the subject but I let him when he said, “Your blood pressure is much better today. If it is this good when I come by this evening then I’ll say you can get up in the morning but no lifting, no climbing the stairs, no milking or any other chore like that for a few days yet. I want you to sit, keep your feet up and continue to drink plenty of water. Maybe sewing or even folding laundry would be OK, but no washing. No standing at the sink. Nothing that keeps you standing at all or lugging anything heavier that a stack of shirts or towels. We don’t want to undo all the good that has come from your day of rest.”

It was after Ken left that I decided to get my thoughts in order and do more than doodle in my journal. I need a plan or I’m gonna go nuts and get cranky even if I know I’m doing the whole invalid thing for the baby’s sake. And not just plan for that either. Tomorrow Rand and I are going to be foster parents which is a totally weird idea for me and I’m not sure how I feel about that. It can’t be any worse than what I lived with at Aunt Wilma’s but if we are going to do this I want to do it right. The boy is going to need stuff I’m sure and he is going to need a space to call his own which means getting the house rearranged. I’m not having him sleep on the sofa when there are perfectly acceptable beds under all those boxes and bags we have stored on them. And an education. Don’t we owe him some type of education?

Pastor Ken came back by late in the afternoon and my blood pressure is still good so I’m outta bed tomorrow. And the boy will be here starting tomorrow. Rand moved some stuff out of the dormer room and into our closet so we wouldn’t have to go up there for a few days, at least until we decide whether the boy is staying permanently or not.

After a dinner of cornbread and pinto beans I finally got around to asking Rand about a few things that I’d heard.

“Rand?”

“Mmm?”

“What did Cassie mean when she said that Mr. Henderson was sending the rest of the Gilkins brothers to work off what they owe him?”

“She said that huh? Mitch better talk to that girl.” Then he looked at me like he was measuring what kind of mood I was in. “There’s no law enforcement any more Kiri. There’s really no law period. When people become nuisances in the community they get … talked to. Usually things get worked out or they get … shut out. Shut out of business deals, shut out of social events, that sort of thing. The word goes out on what they did and most people use what amounts to peer pressure on them. If they straighten up and stop causing problems then everything goes back to normal and no one holds it against them. Whatever happened is done and over with, no harm no foul. But it doesn’t always work out that way. A lot of people that get shut out and who don’t want to … “conform to community standards” as Mr. Henderson calls it usually wind up moving, maybe closer to Lake City or even further out in the country where how they want to live their lives doesn’t affect anybody.”

“But that isn’t what Cassie said. She said he was sending those men some place.”

“That’s only happened a couple of times. Henderson had a couple of families that started wanting to change how things were run on the ranch. They wanted a democracy or at least a say in how things were run. Mr. Henderson brought everyone into the ranch letting them know up front it was his way or the highway. They kept at it and it was causing no small amount of problems. One night Henderson and some of his top men went in and moved the families lock stock and barrel to a relocation facility down in Alachua; just dropped ‘em off and left ‘em there. They kept what was theirs to keep and then were given the freedom to make their own way from that point forward.”

“How come I never heard of this?”

“It happened right after that trouble at Itchetucknee. I didn’t hear about it until a couple of weeks later myself.”

“So is that where he’s sending the Gilkins?”

“No. There’s a … a sorta work camp in Steinhatchee, along the river. The military is providing security but the locals run it. Henderson has some connections down there. Supplies are brought up the river and then off loaded on 51 right there at Mayo and can either be brought overland via 51 into Live Oak or can be transported on the Suwannee picking up and trading out supplies the long way around, through all the small communities, and still wind up in Live Oak. Right now the biggest problem is pirates. The Navy covers the Gulf and the Coast Guard has the shoreline but they can’t be everywhere, especially up and down every river, creek, and tributary. That’s being left to local management. There’s are groups of families operating docks along the rivers and they use as much or as little force as they feel necessary … and they make a decent living keeping the inland river ways clear.”

“And Ram is involved in this how?”

“No clue Babe. I get to watch when you ask him though. He makes some pretty funny noises when you get him backed into a corner. Reminds me of a chicken I once had. And he dances around an answer really pretty too.”

“Oh you. It’s not funny.”

“Wellll, it may not have been funny, but at least I got you to give me a real smile.”

I had started to feel more myself by then, or at least I was in more control of what other people were seeing. I still don’t understand why things have to happen the way they do. Life is so confusing. Why am I only seventeen yet I have more in common with old widow ladies than I do with girls my own age? How do I teach my baby how to protect themselves from the world but not teach them to protect themselves so well that they miss out on the good things that do occasionally come along?

All I do know for is that I’m grateful and blessed that Rand wasn’t killed. I’m not grateful and sure as heck don’t feel blessed though that I had to do the killing. I don’t know how to reconcile it all. How do I stand before God and say I killed a man because I didn’t want him to kill a man. One of these days I’m going to have to get my head around it all but for now I think I’m ready to just … what was it the Mrs. Withrow said the other day … something about sometimes the only thing we can do is leave it at the foot of the Cross and walk away. Yeah, that sounds like exactly what I need, someone to take it off my shoulders, at least for a while. I’m tired of carrying all of these feelings and hurt around. They are getting too heavy and too complicated.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 76A

January 22nd – It was barely daylight but Rand and I had already eaten breakfast, using up some of the food that had been brought yesterday. These were meat pie kind of things and they weren’t bad. I’m going to try and make some when I’m allowed up and around for more than two seconds at a time. For the moment I find myself parked on the sofa in the big room more than anything else.

Rand would have lit the fireplace but I told him not to bother. It was getting warmer during the day and if I got cold I could throw a quilt or blanket over my lap. A fire would have been nice but the truth was that the firewood level was getting low last week and though Rand cut some yesterday he hadn’t had time to cut much and he was suppose to work the whole week for Mr. Henderson. Rand had just come in with a small pail of milk to put in the water cooler pan when Pastor Ken drove up with the boy.

Rand stepped outside and it wasn’t a minute before I heard Ken driving away. Rand walked in with a boy – our boy – and with a very serious look on his face said, “Ken will be by later. One of Henderson’s men came by to get tell him that a man out at the Harbinger’s was gored by a bull.”

“Did he say who it was?”

“I didn’t have time to ask. Which room did you want to use?” Rand asked pointing to a paper sack the boy had a death grip on.

The boy’s name is Austin and he stands out from us like the fabled red headed step child … literally. Austin is tall for a ten year old, about the same size as Mick who has finally started to put on a few inches of height. He’s built lean and lanky and I can’t imagine what he is going to be when he really does get to that stage of lean and lanky that boys go through before they start filling out; he’s likely going to look like a stork poor thing. And when I say red headed I mean it; he’s got wild strawberry blonde hair that wouldn’t behave with a whole tube of gel worked into it. He’s eyes are soft brown and have the same look as a pup that’s been kicked around too much. He’s not been ruined but I didn’t know quite how to take it when Rand said he’s nearly as cautious as I am.

Rather than answer Rand directly I asked Austin if he minded picking one out and letting me know. I told him he had a choice of three rooms but they were all messy right now but that we would get things straightened up better as soon as I was allowed to be on my feet.

I got a squinty-eyed look like he was trying to measure if this was a trick or not. Rand showed him the three rooms and then he came back over to where I was sitting. “The one looks like it has a bunch of baby stuff in it already so it’d be kinda stupid for me to go in there. The one next to it is OK.”

“OK, that’s fine. Rand has to go to work for Mr. Henderson, have you met him?”

“Yes ‘um”

“Um … could we like not do the yes ma’am, no ma’am thing for a little bit? I’m not used to it.”

“Yes ‘um … I mean OK.”

“Cool deal. Rand do you have anything for Austin to do?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to put him to work so fast, he hasn’t even had time to unpack. But, I’d appreciate some help getting the animals taken care of so I can go.”

When they were done Rand came back in and said, “Austin knows what to do with the animals as well as Mick does. Hatchet even behaved for him which is a relief. Babe, I have got to get out of here if I want to get that front part finished and be home in time for a daylight supper. Are you sure you’re OK?”

I knew Rand was asking me not only was I OK physically but if I was OK with being left with the boy. I was and told him so. Rand left and that left Austin and I basically just looking at each other.

“Let me guess, he asked you to babysit me.” I said in my most matter of fact voice.

Austin eyed me suspicious and said, “Kinda I guess.”

“Well I don’t need babysitting.”

“He said you’d say that.”

“Figures. Look, I expect this is as weird for you as it is for us. Rand and I … well, the whole baby thing is pretty new to us and now there’s you. I’m not used to sitting around doing nothing and it is already driving me crazy. I can be moody and weird at the best of times …”

“He said you’d say that too, but when you said it I was to tell you he’d already warned me and not to say it again.

“Well of all the … “ I said acting pretty affronted.

That got a very small, second-long smile out of Austin. “Look. Rand and I just have things that we’ve agreed to disagree about but, we both agreed that if you wanted to come live with us and help out that we’d like that.”

“You can’t like having me here.”

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t like having me here. I’m another mouth to feed and you’re gonna have a baby.”

“So?”

“I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t say you were. As a matter of fact I hope you’re not.”

“Well I’m not. I hear what people say. You only need help for a little while.”

“Well see, that’s the thing. If you stay I might get used to you staying as long as we don’t brangle like cats and dogs. Even then it might be OK. I’ve got a foster brother that I used to brangle with pretty regular but now that we are older it’s not as bad as it used to be. He grew out of being a brat.”

I could see him mashing his lips together trying real hard not to say something sassy. I knew right then that the kid could be OK if we could figure out some way to get through the initial awkwardness, same way I always seemed to know which of the foster boys were going to be good ‘uns or which were likely to be bad ‘uns. Well, not always I suppose; I did make a couple of mistakes I lived to regret.

“Look, like I said, this is weird for all of us but Rand is a really good guy and he puts up with a lot of stuff that made other people I know go running for the hills rather than deal with me. I’m better than I used to be and we get along really good … well, except maybe when either one of us wants our own way too much but mostly we compromise fine and you won’t have to listen to a lot of fussing and fighting from us.’ The conversation pretty much died after that. If I had been up and busy it might have been easier but I was as stuck as he was.

It didn’t take Austin long to get the fidgets. It’s only natural, I’ve yet to meet a boy that didn’t and it made it worse that we were both nervous and growing bored. I decided a change of scenery might help so I told him if he would carry the foot stool onto the front porch I’d introduce him to Woofer and Fraidy. The foot stool was to keep me out of hot water with Rand and Ken for being someplace besides the sofa. That little dickens grabbed the foot stool and the rifle off the rack we have by the door. I suspect that Rand or someone had already schooled him or given him directions of what to do.

“Austin can you shoot?” I didn’t know if Rand had already asked him or not but it at least gave me something to talk about.

It took him a while to answer, “My Peepaw taught me but I don’t shoot as good as you. I had my own rifle only … “

“Only?” When he didn’t answer and still had that far away look in his eyes I said, “If you want, I’ll talk to Rand and maybe you can take my place during our practice time.”

He gave me a suspicious look, “Why would he do that?”

“Who do you think taught me? Besides if you’re gonna live here and work with Rand you’re probably going to need to know. So do you want me to or not?” He shrugged like he didn’t care one way or the other but I could see him watching out of the corner of his eye. Hook number one.

I whistled for hook number two and it sounded like a small horse as it came barreling out of the woods on the other side of the garden heading straight for us. I don’t know which of them was funnier, Woofer who caught sight of the boy and tried to quick stop only to hit a pile of damp leaves, or Austin who watched this oversized dog barrel rolling into him with eyes so wide they were nearly falling out of his head. They both went “Oof!” when Austin had his feet knocked out from under him.

Woofer got to his feet quicker than Austin and ran up onto the porch and behind the rocker with his tail tucked like he knew he was in trouble for knocking a small person down.

“That’s the dog … the one from the swap meet. He tore a hole in the seat of Mr. Belcher’s pants.”

“Then Mr. Belcher must have been threatening Rand in some way.”

“Will he bite me?”

“Mr. Belcher or Woofer?”

He gave me the same look I would have given someone if they had tried to make that joke. “Yeah, pretty lame. Look, Woofer is cool, just protective. If he considers you his you’re pretty much stuck with him for life. Come over here and stand there. Now let him decide you’re no threat. Give me your hand …. “

In no time at all Woofer figured out that Austin was going to be the next best thing to having another dog for a playmate, especially when he discovered that Austin was as tireless as he was when it came to fetch.

They both took a break to get something to drink and Austin asks, “It’s really all right if I play with him? I’m not going to get in trouble for not doing chores or something?”

“You’ll have chores but Rand figured to give you a day or two to see if you want to stay and then … “

I didn’t even get a chance to finish, “I want to!”

“Huh?”

“I … I want to stay.”

“It won’t all be playing with Woofer you know. Work can get pretty thick around here.”

“That’s OK. Peepaw always said I was good worker.” Then Austin looked at me. “I don’t have no place else. Charlie didn’t want me. He gave me to them people that were collecting orphans and kids nobody wanted.”

“What people?” I asked.

“I ain’t seen none around here. They wore blue helmets and they used to get in fights with the guys in green helmets. They used to fight real bad and then some old guy in a green helmet and a bunch of other guys in green helmets came and made the guys in the blue helmets lay down all of their guns and get in this big boat.”

“What happened to them?”

“I don’t know. The guys in the green helmets put us kids on a train.”

“A train? How did you get off the train?” I asked trying to get the story out of him without trying to force so much out at one time he would lock up on me.

“After we’d ridden on the train for a little while they took us off and then we walked to this big school. The big kids called it the tri-county highschool. I didn’t like it there. The big kids beat up on the younger kids and we had to do what they said, even if it was bad stuff.”

“Where were the adults?”

“Taking care of the babies and real little kids and working in the hospital tents.”

I haven’t got his entire story yet. For instance he won’t talk much about “Charlie” or “Peepaw” but when Ken came around at lunch time to check on me and saw Austin and Woofer off in the woods playing tag he said, “That’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen that boy. Momma O was right, you’ve got the touch.”

“Yeah right. I’ve just been around enough boys to know that expecting them to act like girls is stupid. I never did mind the little guys, it’s when they got older that some of them turned into jerks.”

“Hmmmm,” Ken answered by way of agreement I think. My blood pressure is still good and Ken said if it stays that way through this coming Sunday what happened at the swap meet could have been a one off and if I use common sense from here on out he won’t restrict my activities beyond what being pregnant will anyway.

I asked him if it had been Ron Harbinger gored this morning. “No. A stranger, no one recognizes him. He could have been passing through. He obviously doesn’t know much about farm animals. No one with any would have gone inside a fenced off bull like that just to cross a field when you can go around and avoid trouble. He didn’t have any ID on him. Did what I could to get a good description of him, cut a lock of hair and a piece of his shirt and I’ll keep it on file.”

“You mean?”

“The man was dead before I could get there. The horn punctured a lung. Brutal way to go and the guy already looked like he’d had a rough row to hoe. He was malnourished and had a bad color to him. I’ve already been to the compound and left a note for the Major’s staff in case someone heads there looking for him.”

“You … um … report to the military?”

“No, not in the way you mean. There is a courtesy exchange of information but otherwise we are left to operate independently. We don’t get interference but that also means that we don’t get help, at least not for the local stuff. If it was road pirates or something like the VRC … whoa, you got a little pale there.”

“Is the VRC still around?”

“Not in large numbers but I have a report that says they are intermittently working with the pirates along the coast and along some rivers. Well, I’ve got to go. Kiri, I know this isn’t easy for you but thank you for trying to listen to me without getting all bent out of shape.”

“Pastor, I’m trying … just one thing please.”

“What?”

“Don’t ever drug me without asking me first again. I’ve got … a grudge against that sort of thing. Once upon a time I wasn’t given a choice about anything like that. All those things I told you about. I know you were only doing what you thought was good doctoring but it wasn’t good for my head. If there is a next time, at least make the effort to talk to me first.”

I’m not sure how Ken took having a young chick talk to him like that but I was trying to be polite about it. He gave me a look but nodded and I guess I’ll just have to hold him to his word. It wasn’t long after that that Austin and Woofer both came looking for scraps to eat. I got up and went to the kitchen to fix something and both of them followed me in. “The Pastor says you ain’t supposed to be up and around. Rand said so too.”

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“Yes ‘um but …”

“Oh fine. At least we’ll be able to tell Rand that you are a good babysitter.”

He looked at me a moment until he figured out I was joking. “I know how to heat stuff up. Peepaw taught me before … “

I was losing him again so I said, “Well that’s fair enough. What do you want? Beans, or there’s beans, or we could have a little beans. Then there’s a choice or cornbread or cornbread. What’ll it be?”

It took him a second but he gave me a small smile. “I think I’ll have beans and cornbread please. What can Woofer have?”

I looked out the window to see Fraidy stalking a couple of squirrels. “Look boy. Go help Fraidy get the squirrels. Go on, go help Fraidy.”

If you’ve never watched a dog and cat hunt together like a pack you’ve really missed something. When Fraidy saw Woofer come out into the yard and plop down, she skirted the squirrels and then climbed the other side of the tree and get up in a limb and wait like a panther. Once she’s up there it only takes a minute before Woofer does the chase-but-not-catch thing they’ve worked out. He runs the squirrels up the tree where Fraidy lies in wait. She’ll either catch one or stun it and knock it out of the tree where Woofer is waiting to pick it up and shack it to its demise. I’ve seen them do the same thing to rabbits and I suspect they’ve done it to field mice and moles. Watching wasn’t doing much good for my digestion though it was fascinating Austin. That’s when I boo-booed.

I made a sharp turn to the right and had to grab ahold of the counter to keep from going down. I scared poor Austin to death and he was halfway out the door before I could draw breath enough to call him back in and tell him it was all right.

“Really, I’m all right. If I turn too fast I pull something out of whack.”

“Is it the rhumatiz? Peepaw had the rhumatiz and some days his back was awful bad.”

“No. I hope you weren’t telling stories about being able to heat stuff up. I think I better sit back down for a while.” As soon as I got comfortable I told him, “I was in a really bad car accident. A … a drunk driver … killed my family. Nearly killed me too and … well, I’ve got scars on the outside and on the inside. Sometimes the ones on the inside want to give me trouble.”

“Oh.”

“I hope that doesn’t freak you out too much.”

He looked at me like he was weighing me or something. “No. I … I had to go live with my … my dad … my mom wasn’t so good at taking care of me. After … um … some stuff happened … my mom and dad didn’t live together and mom had boyfriends. One of them … he hurt me and that’s when I went to go live with my dad.”

I wasn’t sure what that had to do with things until he sat down, looked at me again and then sat down on a chair and pulled up a pant leg and pulled down a sock. “The guy was supposed to be giving me a bath cause the social worker was coming. Dad said the guy was messed up and was one of mom’s weird echo-terrorist people she hung out with. I still don’t know what an echo-terrorist is.”

“Echo-terrorists … oh, wait, I think you mean eco-terrorists. It’s somebody that is more fond of plants and animals than they are of humans and they want to make a bunch of rules that humans have to live by so they won’t hurt the earth and stuff like that. Only, instead of letting cops and stuff give people tickets and take them to court if they break the rules, they did things like bomb buildings, break into computers, steal animals, run into other boats and sabotage things … totally radical and mean stuff like that.”

“Yeah, that sounds like some of mom’s friends. I don’t even know where she is any more. When the flu came she told my dad it was like Gaia’s revenge and wanted to take me and go live on some tropical island. Dad said no, mom said it was his loss and left and we didn’t hear from her ever again.” He sighed and put some beans in a small pot and put them on the stove and sure enough he knew how to heat them up without any instructions at all. Call me impressed.

“I guess I better do this now since pretty soon I doubt I’ll even be able to see my shoes much less reach them.” He turned around and looked at me. I can’t believe I did it. Rand is the only other person I sorta willingly have shown my scars to. I reached down and pulled up my own pant leg and pulled down my psychedelic sock and showed him my scars.”

“You really do have scars. You weren’t just saying it.”

“Nope.”

“The car wreck did all that?”

“The car wreck and then the doctors trying to fix what the car wreck broke.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 76B

There is nothing quite like a good sized scar to impress a boy. After that is when I think he really started to relax. During lunch I finally heard his story from the beginning.

There’s Peepaw who was Charles Barker. There is Austin’s father who was called C.J. Barker which was short for Charles Jr. and then Charlie Barker is Austin’s oldest half-brother. There were three other brothers but they don’t have much to do with the overall story because they died during the flu. From what I gathered Austin’s father married young and well and they lived a happily ever after life until the day that his first wife never woke up from a nap she took to get rid of her headache. The headache was actually an aneurism. C.J. Barker was a man possessed after that and was just about a 180 degree different person to what he had been before. He started running around the bars where he met a pretty young thing and they were married two weeks later.

Same old soap opera. They both regretted it almost immediately but she caught pregnant and they tried to work it out anyway. She left before Austin was even born and it would have all been swept under the rug except CJ had come to himself and wanted to help raise Austin … which didn’t go over well at all considering the difference in what they wanted to teach the boy. One of the things that Paris … that was Austin’s mother’s name … put on the divorce papers was “cruelty to animals.”

“Let me guess. Your Peepaw’s farm was a working farm. You slaughtered animals as well as vegetables.”

“Yeah. Eventually the judge told mom that if she didn’t want to lose custody of me she had to knock it off and put a reign on her friends who had caused some fires on the farm. But I was too little then and I don’t remember it. After I got burned I went to go live with Peepaw and only saw mom every other weekend and a couple of weeks during the summer if she remembered. She was away a lot with her friends protesting and stuff like that.”

Man, I thought I had a messed up life after my family was killed. As messed up as Aunt Wilma could be at least she was still a sane kind of messed up. Maybe I haven’t given her enough credit.

Then the flu came along. Austin’s three brothers went real quick during the third wave leaving Austin’s dad really messed up again. His grandfather, always the most stable influence in his life, completely took over raising him … and protecting him. Seems Austin was a poor little Cinderfella only in reverse. He was considered the interloper and was frozen out by his four much older brothers who took a lot of delight in making his life as miserable as they could without getting into trouble themselves. Then the tragic fourth wave of the pandemic hit and Austin’s father died and while it didn’t kill his grandfather it left him disabled.

Charlie became the head of the house by default and when Charles Barker finally died of heart failure a couple of months later Austin’s life went from bad to worse. Charlie had kids of his own and didn’t want to have anything to do with raising Austin so he shuttled him out, the rest I’ve already written.

After lunch Woofer was more interested in a nap but did follow Austin around while he picked up the fallen limbs around the yard and broke them into lengths for the tinder box. He also refilled the wood box, gathered the few eggs that the hens weren’t setting, and brushed out Hatchet who seemed to take to the boy a whole lot better than he had ever taken to me.

I didn’t mean to but I dozed in the rocker on the front porch and then jumped awake when I realized that I was actually asleep and not just relaxing. Austin was sitting on the porch picking burrs out of Woofer’s tail.

“Not again. That dog finds more of those prickle bushes to get into than anything I’ve ever seen.”

“The rabbits go in there and hide and he prolly likes how they smell.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Peepaw used to show me how the swamp rabbits would make their nests above ground instead of in hutches. Birds and stuff get in there too. He likes to smell everything.” Woofer agreed to this by sticking his nose in Austin’s ear and making him duck and laugh. “How come he don’t have no fleas?”

“Woofer? I give him a bath in no-flea shampoo. I’ll have to figure out what to do when that runs out but I’ve got a ton of it.”

“Does the cat have fleas?”

“No, I have collars for her.”

“Oh.” After a second he looked at me again. “How come the box the milk goes in is so cold?”

Rand and I knew this was coming but I hadn’t thought it would get here so quick. “Yeah, about that. Listen, Rand and I sorta … there’s things we … look, if you could not mention that to anyone else that would be good. We’ve worked really hard not to be show-offs and for other reasons too. It would just be better … “

“Like a secret only not a secret that hurts other people.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah.”

“OK,” he said the same way someone else would have said, “whatever works.” I hope it stays that simple because if he keeps living with us our other secrets are going to come out.

Rand just managed to get in before dark to have more beans and cornbread with us. Austin went out to the barn to help him with the night chores and I was left twiddling my thumbs on the sofa after I turned on the solar lamp.

“Wow … cool!” was Austin’s response when he saw the lamp. He was mesmerized almost. “Hey, look what I found when I was going through this shed.” He ran out of the room nearly running into the wall before coming back in with a wind up flashlight. “You showed me your secret and this one is mine.”

Rand looked at me and mouthed, “Secret?”

Austin clued Rand in before I had to. “Rand, that thing you put the milk in is really neat. Kiri said that you’d show me how it works and I could help take care of it and stuff.”

“Oh, she did? Sure buddy. You like seeing how things work?”

“Peepaw … he used … to … “ and just like that Austin was gone away again.

Rand clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Why don’t you tell me what you did today.”

“Huh? Oh, you … you didn’t leave a chore list.” Both Rand and I could see he was getting worried, scared, defensive or maybe it was all three.

“Well no. I figured you’d need a day or two to get settled. If you are bored to death and just dying to work I’ll leave you a list tomorrow.”

Austin looked at Rand like he was a little on the crazy side but just shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, there is one thing, my uncle is coming over with Mick and Tommy for a couple of hours and I thought the three of you could walk the fence line for me and let me know if anything needed fixing.”

Ahhhh, that put a little light in Austin’s eyes. He already knew Mick and Tommy from the church services and from the swap meet. Mick may have been three years older and Tommy two but when friends are few and far between age makes less of a difference and both boys would have taken Austin in just because that’s the way they are.

I was tired from sitting around doing nothing and Rand was exhausted. I felt bad but he went into the room Austin had picked and helped him move some stuff around and off the bunk bed that is in there. I brought them some clean sheets for the mattress and was summarily ejected and told to go sit back down. I heard him tell Austin that we’d get the other stuff moved out so he could have some room to move. I’ve been using the bedrooms like storage rooms and knew that eventually I’d have to find another way of doing things. Now though I’m going to have to clean two rooms instead of just one for the baby which is really going to squish things up in my other storage areas.

Austin had had a full day and was nodding off just about as soon as his bed was cleared off. I made him go clean up in the kitchen because I hadn’t gotten a pitcher of water and towels put in the hallway bath yet. We gave him some privacy and when he came out I noticed all he had to sleep in was a t-shirt and a raggedy pair of shorts that would have been too small for him if he weren’t still so skinny from trying to survive on his own. Tomorrow, I don’t care what anyone says there is no way anyone that I’m supposed to be taking care of is going to go around like that; I’m going to do something about it. And his day clothes too. He can’t be toting much in that paper sack.

Rand saw me getting up and put his hand on my shoulder to push me back down. He went to the blanket chest and pulled out another blanket and took it into the room and when he came out he said, “He’s three-quarters to sleep already and nine will get you ten that Woofer is in the bed with him before the night is over.”

When I didn’t respond he asked, “Does that bother you?”

“Huh? Oh, no, not if he isn’t dirty and Austin picked all the prickle burrs out of his fur this afternoon. I was thinking about some stuff that Austin told me,” and I went on to tell Rand about the blue helmets and the green helmets. “I don’t know who the blue helmets were. The VRC … they wore black or red berets.”

“Are you sure he said blue helmets?”

“Yeah. The green helmets … the military? The blue helmets … cops maybe?”

“No. Not if what I’m thinking proves out.”

When he didn’t say anything more I went “Well?”

“Huh? Oh … sorry about zoning out. Look, I can tell you what I think but that doesn’t make it what really happened. I’ll have to ask Bill or maybe Henderson.”

“And … the rest of the story is … ?”

He chuckled, “Don’t be so impatient, I’m trying to get my thoughts straight. It seems a little out there but maybe not as much as being invaded by China and the VRC and we know that stuff happened or that they tried to. The only blue helmets I know besides sports helmets are worn by UN troops. It is possible that we have or had a … well a kind of battle going on over our country. We’ve got a lot of natural resources. We’ve got a lot of land compared to most countries. People have viewed us with envy for a long time. If … and this is a big if … some countries looked at the US and then looked at the rest of the world and all the turmoil that is going on and then used that ‘equitable distribution’ crap that some in our own government were supporting … well the UN could have invited themselves onto our soil and tried to take over in the guise of humanitarian aid.”

“Invited themselves? How does that work?”

“Or they were invited by some politicians. Who knows? To be honest this is nothing but something that barely qualifies as a theory right now but it might not be just the VRC that is causing those communication blackouts we’ve been noticing.”

“I thought things would have been too messed up all over the world for something like that to happen.”

“Babe, things are never too messed up for some people to try and take advantage of a situation. The last few leaders of the UN weren’t what I would call US-friendly. They always thought our country deserved to have a heavier financial burden to support their agenda while having a smaller say in the agenda itself. That has to be one of the most useless organizations that was ever allowed to come into being. Talk about good intentions going bad.”

Rand knows a lot more stuff about all of that than I do … that political stuff. People used to try and shove so much of that stuff down my throat – at school, at Aunt Wilma’s, even at the diner – that I tuned it out. Rand is shocked at how ignorant I am. He said he thought I would have really latched onto it because of my debate skills, the classes I was taking in school, and because my Dad was in the military. I told him I could debate it with the best of them if need be but I got tired of too much of it, it was like total overload. I wish now I’d paid more attention but I didn’t and I can’t change the way things were. And from here on out so long as they leave me alone that’s about all I have time to care about. Of course, the way things are it doesn’t sound seem like we are going to be left alone.


January 23rd – Rand was gone sun up to sundown again today. He’s going at it as long as the mules can stand it, trying to shave a day off how long it is going to take to plow Henderson’s field. The biggest hold up is the pieces of limestone that keep coming up. Rand says he’s never seen anything like it. I figure what happened is that some of the early settlers found one place to toss all the limestone they found out of their fields or maybe that’s a knob of limestone like what is over at the concrete plant they have down in Gilchrist county. There’s limestone around a lot of the springs in the area so any story is as good as the next.

Rand is taking Austin with him tomorrow and Austin is going to hold the mules while Rand loads some of the limestone into the wagon. They’ll bring the stones back and Rand wants to line the side of the gully next to the road with it as we’ve had some of it washing away the last couple of rains.

When I complained he was going to take away some of my best blackberry bushes he said that the bushes would come up through the stones more than likely and even if they didn’t having a secure road bed there was more important.

“Babe, the gully has a clay pan bottom. It’s going to hold water except during the driest spells. The higher the water the more it is leaching into the base of the road. Sure the gully is seven or eight feet deep but all we need is for the base to get eroded enough and then you’ll have a slide that takes out the whole lane and that will be a lot of work if I have to fix that by hand. As it is we’re already losing some of the road base where our road meets the county road. I need to figure out why and get it fixed before it gets any worse.” The list of things we need to do is getting to be as long as the list of things we want to do.

Austin seems to be settling in. I think he got so used to being pulled from pillar to post that he just learned to be flexible. Guess we’ll see how long that lasts.

Uncle George came by and brought the rest of the stuff from Mrs. Withrow. “Got tired of listening to her sigh over the fact that if she could just get this stuff over to you all she’d be finished cleaning out the house and she could turn it over to Josiah with a clear conscience. Austin, come help the boys unload this stuff. We’ll put it up on the porch and cover with a tarp until Kiri is up to going through it.”

After the boys unloaded the wagon, no small chore, they went tearing off to walk the fence. Woofer was in doggy Heaven with three boys to play with. Fraidy came up onto the porch and jumped in my lap after they left and Uncle George and I sat and talked for a while.

He said, “I know you didn’t plan on having to deal with this stuff this week but Mrs. Withrow was just plain determined. It was just easier to volunteer and do as she was hinting at because when she starts outright asking you never know what you are going to be called on to do.”

I laughed because I could see Mrs. Withrow doing exactly that to get her way. “I don’t know where we are going to put all this stuff. I’ve already got to clean out two rooms … one for the baby and one for Austin and find someplace to put the stuff we move out of there. We’ll be wall to wall boxes and furniture at this rate and this isn’t exactly a small house.”

“I’d store it for you Baby Girl but we’ve already had to clean out our own attic to give Mick and Tommy a place to sleep besides the downstairs sofa. They’re lucky they didn’t have to sleep out on the porch. If we weren’t having to mill so much of the lumber ourselves by hand we could have had the house weathered in by now. I’ve dropped some good sized pine trees but they need to season a bit before we can use them. I didn’t want to but it looks like I’m going to have to dismantle one of the small barns so we can get the beams and roofing material to finish things off. Them babies ain’t gonna wait on our plans. Ken said Missy has a couple of weeks at best and Alicia has maybe a month if they counted things out right. Laurabeth will come around after that and then they’s you. And if you young ‘uns ain’t careful we’ll be starting it all over again right after that. ”

I was so not touching that last statement so I went back to the subject of the building materials. “But what about all the abandoned houses? I thought there wouldn’t be any problems getting what you needed.”

“People have been burning up the wood outta those houses to heat with. Crazy. Some of that stuff is treated. The newer homes ain’t worth a plug nickel. It’s a wonder they didn’t fall apart in a good wind; little more than plastic siding over thin plywood once you start taking ‘em apart. What houses is left are either termite damaged, vandal damaged or the beams are too short for what we need. I could piece a couple of the short beams if I had the right size bolts but if I don’t have to I’d rather not. A solid piece is just going to last longer and bow less. And because of the added weight we’ve had to go back in and add beams in the crawl space. Used more wood and nails than I originally planned for. Been fixing what little bit of termite damage and wood rot we’ve found along the way as well. Seems like two steps forward and a step and a half back every time we move.”

“I know. We were all set to move forward after Christmas and now this. I feel … “

“Don’t Baby Girl. It’ll work out just like we’ll eventually get the house finished … just not in our time but the good Lord’s. You still pining over things?”

“You mean over Harris Gilkins?”

“Yup. Figured you might could use someone to talk to. Rand’s a good boy but almost too strong. Makes it hard for him to understand.”

“Rand and Ken don’t want me to talk about it. They want me to just … get over it or past it and call it done.”

“That’s one way of handling it but you don’t strike me as you cotton to doing things that way.”

“I don’t know Uncle George. It’s brought up memories of other things I felt like I had to do.”

“Well, Ken is right in it ain’t good for you to let it eat you up but I want you to think on something here. Romans 8:28 says that all things work together for good for those that love the Lord. That’s all things Baby Girl, not just the things we are comfortable with or happy with or anything else. All things. Even the things we don’t understand and I recon you’re gonna have to put this down as one of those.”

“That was my Dad’s favorite verse. He used to say that God would never put more on us that we can bear but … “

“Well, nothing against your Daddy but I got another way of looking at it having gone through a few trials of my own. First Corinthians 10:13 says that God won’t allow us to be tempted beyond what we can bear but nowhere could I find in the Word where He said that He won’t let the trials come along and break us down. I think He does allow trials that we can’t handle ourselves because He wants us to turn to Him. Now whether the things you’ve had to do fall into the temptation category or the trial category I can’t say though I have my suspicion. What I do think is either way you need to let God have it. Just let Him have it Baby Girl ‘cause it’s plain to anyone with sense that you didn’t like doing what you got called on to do. What you did was justifiable in the eyes of man but no man is going to be able to ease your mind and your heart over this.”

What Uncle George said was so close to what I had been thinking that it was kind of scary. Maybe that is God saying, “Kiri, you are on the right track. Stop fooling around and just do it. You’ll feel better and that’s what I want for you.”

It makes me wonder how bad I want to feel better or if I’ve felt bad for so long that I’m afraid to let it go. Now, that’s not a comfortable think to think at all.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 77

January 24th – Four more days, I can stand this for just four more days. I think. At least I have lots of thinking time. That’s both good and bad. I have time to go through more of the books and grab ideas from Momma’s files but if I have time to think about how things can work, I also have time to think about how things can go wrong. When that happened I forced myself to stop and start thinking about the good things in my life.

For instance, it was nice to have the house to myself today. Austin is a better kid than I expected. I think he was just starved for affection and has latched onto Rand and I because we treat him like he belongs already. I saw some of the boys in foster care that were young like that really latch onto Aunt Wilma looking for a mother figure. Aunt Wilma talked to me one time after a really bad case. She said the boys would mistake her caring for love. I was fourteen at the time and I think it was her way to warn me off of getting too attached to her as well. I hadn’t thought about that conversation in years. I promised myself right then that I wouldn’t be like Aunt Wilma with Austin. It would either be for real or it wouldn’t, none of this caught in the middle stuff so that the poor kid would only get confused.

The reason why I had some alone time today is that Austin went with Rand to pick up the limestone chunks. Woofer looked at me like a lost soul, already missing Austin. I told the big goofy mutt to go chase something and after giving a doggy groan he went out and started sniffing around in the woods which was his second favorite past time.

I sat on the sofa and worked on a list of things I wanted to do. First off I had sent a list with Uncle George to give to Missy. Austin needs clothes and Rand doesn’t have any to spare. And there is no way it would be fair to cut down any of my clothes for him. I can make him some button down shirts, I can even make him jeans since I have those bolts of denim that Ram sent me, but if I don’t have to I’d rather try and get him something off the rack to save some time. And he needs it all … jeans, t-shirts, and underclothes. I found a packaged pair of boys pajamas that I had picked up when I had first salvaged one of the houses that are now demolished but they aren’t exactly meant for warmth and they are going to swallow him whole. I took the elastic out of the waist band and changed them to draw string. They’ll certainly give him growing room but I have a feeling he’ll out grow the legs before he out grows the waist. That only took me an hour since the treadle was still downstairs, then I got going with my next project.

One of the things that I had noticed, after thinking about it for a while, was that while there was a lot of staple food items, and basic services and materials, I didn’t see any convenience foods or mixes. Not even any soup mixes. I know it makes sense as most of those have probably been used up by people long ago. We have quite a bit left but I’ve been rationing ours and using it to piece out the fresh stuff coming out of the garden and smokehouse. But, you’d think someone would have come up with something to replace the store bought mixes.

I also gave Missy’s idea another think about lingerie. It won’t ever become a career for me but I’m thinking at the next swap meet to have a booth. On the other hand, I might be better off trading the stuff at the Shack that way no one would know where it came from. I’ll have to talk it over with Rand. Either way I need to make up some more of those mixes for us, especially since “us” isn’t just Rand and I any more. There’s Austin to think about and the baby.

And speaking of the baby I snuck the booklet off of Rand’s nightstand and started reading it. I figure I can’t make the situation go away by hiding from it. I flipped through the book and got a pretty graphic picture of what is going to happen to my body. Funville here I come but what I was actually looking for was the list that Rand had mentioned. Toward the back there was chart that showed all the different stuff the modern baby was expected to have in the nursery. Man oh man. On the other hand I could pretty much dump about half the list because we weren’t “modern” any more. For instance a car seat. If there was a wagon accident not even a car seat was going. There were toy things in the list too like those jumping saucer things. Might be nice to have but it’s not like I could go down to the wallyworld and buy one. On the other hand a highchair and cradle was pretty important and we already had both of those thanks to Rand’s foresight. We also had a lot of baby clothes and things like that only I’ve never really taken a good look so cleaning and organizing the baby’s room went onto my priority list, not the top but up there. I remember Daddy talking about how his parents were so poor when his oldest sister came along that she slept in wooden grocery box until his mother’s father built them cradle and they used that for all of their babies after that. Daddy also talked about baby clothes made out of old flour sacks and remembering wearing “big boy pants” that had the flour mill logo on the seat of them. Are we going to go back to that? It looks like it. For how long I wonder.

What went on the top of my list was to find some way to get some clothes that were gonna fit me. I’d only been wearing the overalls a little over two weeks and I could already tell they were going to fit another couple of weeks … maybe. I think I can make do with some of Momma’s old tops, she was bigger than me and didn’t ever wear fitted shirts so they should work. What is going to be a bear is finding something to cover the bottom half of me with. I suppose I could make some fleece pants with but I hate to use the material for something that will only be used for a few months. Maybe I can make some jumpers if I can just find something to cover my legs up with. Maybe I can knit some really long socks.

I ate the beans and rice that Rand left for me in a thermos and then I got flustered and decided to go sit on the porch for a little while. I took the rifle outside but I felt guilty and couldn’t settle. I was just about to go back inside when I heard a buggy coming down the road. I was just about to run inside when I heard, “Kiri? You outside? Is that dog gonna eat us up?”

I called Woofer to my side and then shouted back, “I’ve got him Cassie.”

From around the hedge came Cassie and then came Julia carrying her baby. “Hope you don’t mind company. Julia needs to feed the bottomless pit.”

Julia grumbled, “Enough Cass, I warned you when you volunteered to take me over to Momma O’s for the morning.” To me she said, “Do you mind Kiri? I … I just … not in public in the buggy going down the road, no matter how much he hollers.”

I was about to explain that I couldn’t get up and offer them anything when Cassie said, “Take a load off your feet or we are going to hear it from Rand. You are feeling better though I guess since you are outside on the porch.”

Trying to answer them both I said, “No I don’t mind Julia. And yes, I’m feeling better.”

They didn’t stay long, only about thirty minutes. That was just long enough for Julia to feed the baby … and didn’t that give me something to think about … and to change him. I didn’t ask questions about the baby and stuff though I suppose I should have. I’ve let the things with Julia go but I’m not that comfortable with her yet. “Julia, I heard y’all had a stranger on your land.”

“Yeah, Ron says that part of the property is in a bad location. We get a lot of non-locals passing through there. Mr. Henderson has suggested that we get together with some other of the River Road families and put a patrol out there to … deter strangers from crossing the land instead of using the established roads. People just don’t read No Trespassing signs these days. Have you had anyone?”

“Not for a while, not since those bandits or whatever you want to call them. But then again we aren’t on the road and Mr. Henderson’s men patrol around here all the time.”

Cassie jumped in with, “Poppy tries Kiri, but he says there are signs of strangers a lot more than he is comfortable with. People come out this way to hunt and leave a mess behind. If we have a dry spell and some hunter leaves a campfire or coals unattended … it doesn’t take much imagination to figure out what could happen. Poppy said that it has been a couple of decades since we’ve had a really big fire threaten the town itself but …”

Nope, it doesn’t take much imagination to picture what could happen. Cassie and Julia left and Woofer was fascinated with the leftover smell of baby and spent a good ten to fifteen minutes memorizing the new odor. I was feeling a little worried and chilled so I moved back inside and stayed there making notes until Rand and Austin got home looking real pleased with themselves although I wasn’t to know why until dinner time.

I was trying to clean up my stack of notes and listen to Austin rattle on about all that they’d done … how cool Bud and Lou were, how Rand let him drive the wagon, the number and size of the limestone chunks (they dumped the rock near the gully), and on and on. I’m glad he had a good time but I was having a hard time concentrating. But I’d never tell him that, especially as he was building a lighting a fire in the fireplace the entire time he was talking.

“I couldn’t do much after the wagon was full of rocks so I picked up all the fallen limbs and put them in a pile. I really surprised Rand. We tied the wood onto the rocks and brought it ho … um … back.” He then fell silent and acted busy. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he’d embarrassed himself and was worried that he had talked too much.

Rand had come out and caught the last little bit, looked at me and winked, and then said, “You had it right the first time little man. This is home. So long as you want to stay with us call it what it is.”

I could see him getting wound up and trying really hard not to let it show. To help him out and give him something to focus on I said, “Come here Austin so I can see how much I need to take these legs up.”

That got his attention and he warily came over and tolerated me putting the pajamas against him. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t cut any of the leg off yet, you are going to need the length. I’m sorry I can’t do much about …”

“These are for me?!”

“Yeah, I know they don’t fit really well and … “

“Really for me?”

“Uh … yeah. Really for you. If you want them I figured you could use … “

He reached out and touched them with his finger tips. “If you don’t mind rolling the sleeves and pants legs up for tonight I’ll hem them tomorrow. Go on, you can take them if you want.”

I actually had to put them in his hand and then he hugged them to him and his eyes were really big. “I don’t mind big. I always wore my brothers’ old clothes. Peepaw had them in boxes. By they time they got to me they never fit right but Dad said I had my school uniform for my good clothes and the others were good enough to work and play in.”

Rand broke in, “Hey buddy, go put those in your room and we’ll have some dinner.” And then he winked at Austin.

“Ok, what are you guys up to?” I asked. Guys get like that, I don’t care how old or young they are, they are up to something.

What they were up to was a surprise. Seems several palm trees had to be taken down to clear the field and make it ready to plant for pasture so they broke into the heart of them and brought me home some fresh “swamp cabbage.” These weren’t sabal palms but Rand said most palms you could eat the hearts of. He stripped the core down to the ivory-white heart then he julienned it and you can then use it the same way you would any salad green. Rand left ours raw and then just made a vinegar and oil dressing and yum yum. I ate more of the “salad” than I did of the beans that we are still finishing off. Man, I knew I was craving fresh food but I guess I hadn’t realized how much. Now, I burped for a couple of hours afterwards but I didn’t care. Good food is good food.

Rand and Austin cleaned up the dishes and themselves and I had a few minutes of peace. It was too cold for them to fool around much and when they came out I told Rand that I was going to take a bath. “Nope. Ken said not until …”

“Oh …grrrr. Fine, I’m going to go wash up anyway. I will be so glad when Sunday gets here.”

“I’ll just be glad to know you’re going to be OK. I know it’s hard Babe. I didn’t like being stuck in bed when Ken and I were here sick or after the VRC got through with me. It won’t be much longer … hopefully.”

Hopefully is right. But I have to admit if I had to go through this to get Rand some help then I guess it is for the best. You can already tell that Austin thinks Rand is something else. It’s kinda cute. Gosh! Where did that come from?! . Ew. I better watch that or Rand is going to think I’ve gone off my rocker for real. That booklet warned that I might get emotional and something called “nest-y.” It is like some alien is inhabiting my body and turning me soft. This is so bizarre.

Not too long after dark we all headed off to bed. I know seven o’clock is pretty early to go to sleep but when you are getting up around four or five in the morning and then working hard all day, seven o’clock sounds about right on most nights. I had Rand take a warming pan for Austin’s sheets while the wood stove in our room warmed things up. Both Rand and Austin were asleep in no time but I’m not doing enough to get to sleep as fast so I finished today’s journal entry.

Tomorrow Austin is going with Rand again, at least for half a day. That should give me time to work on a schedule of things I want to get done. I have got to get out in the garden. It’s warm enough, even though it is still cool at night, that the covers need to come off the seedlings. I also need to get my seeds going in the greenhouse and … well, that’s for tomorrow. If I start thinking about that right now I’ll never get to sleep.


January 25th – Three days and counting then I’m free, free, free!


January 26th – Two days and counting and Sunday can’t get here soon enough. My to do list is now officially longer than I am tall. I’m not kidding. I got bored and laid the pages end to end and the list is actually twice as long as I am tall plus a couple of inches. I hope Rand and Austin leave some room in their schedule to help me because I feel like I’m a month behind.


January 27th – I came real close to throwing something at Ken today. The guys all thought it was just so funny but I am telling you I did not. He took my blood pressure on one arm then squinted his eyes and then took it on my other arm. Then he took it on the first arm again. I was fit to be tied and worried sick. “Well,” he said with a deep sigh. “I’ve checked it three times Kiri … “

“What?! You can’t be serious!”

“Oh I am. You’ve got a clean bill of health. You can get up tomorrow but I still don’t want you to lift much more than a cast iron pot.”

I heard Rand snorting and snickering, the rat had been in on it.. I swear, half the human population must suffer from terminal testosterone poisoning.

January 28th – Free at last, free at last! Of course that was just in time to go to the church service and become the main course in a banquet of gossip.

OK, maybe that came out a little nastier sounding than I meant it but I sure am sick of being the center of attention for some folks. It was good to be out but there were a few uncomfortable moments as well. Lucretia was there, it’s the only place her brother has agreed to let her see her kids. The little children were already having their own Bible study time when we arrived – I was a little puke-y this morning – and as we were passing by trying to make sure Austin got to his group with Mick and Tommy I heard Lucretia raise her voice enough so every could hear her tell her kids, “That’s the … the … female … what killed your precious uncle.”

Oh great. But I heard a couple of adults being forced to cough into their hands when Brendon comes up and says all innocent like, “You think she’s telling ‘em so that they can thank you?”

I was so tempted to hit him with the pillow I’d brought to sit on but that would have only made things worse. Suddenly I was surrounded by Crenshaws, Crenshaw in-laws, and assorted other people. It was like being walled in and it stayed that way the whole time we were there.

When services were over I made sure that everyone got their pans and bowls back and made sure to tell them all thank you real nice. I won’t be forgetting these folks anytime soon. They did what they didn’t have to do. If the chance comes around for me to help them I will.

I found out today what Rand is being paid for his work and I’m not quite sure if I like it or not though I understand it. He’s being paid in shares; shares of future gains. Some of it is feed and hay for the animals, some of it is crops like sorghum or soybeans, and from Mr. Henderson he is getting shares of trade goods that will be coming in shortly … or it’s supposed to. I guess that makes sense but it is also a risk. It seems like everything in life is lately.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 78

January 29th – I feel like I’m still a month behind but we got a bit caught up in the gardens today. Rand wouldn’t let me go as much as I wanted but then again I didn’t feel like I was able to go as much as I used to. Constant bathroom breaks for me also held me back. Darn that booklet anyway, why does it have to be right so much of the time?

The gardens weren’t as bad as they could have been but they needed attention. We pulled off all the protective covers off of things. Good thing too because some of the seedlings were getting leggy and some of the cooler loving crops were actually getting too hot in the middle of the day. Austin and Rand spent a long time hauling water barrels and then running the drip hoses to each row. I gave up on the square foot gardening for some of the stuff because I don’t have automatic sprinklers. I need something convenient not necessarily space saving now that Rand has enlarged the original garden plot. Maybe I’ll go back to it at some point but not this season. I’ve got enough to figure out.

We set the barrels up on blocks we’ve set at the head of every couple of rows. Rand installed old spigots at the base of each barrel. Attached to the spigots are old garden hoses that we scavenged. We’ve poked a lot of pin holes in the hoses and capped off the ends of each length of hose. With the barrels full we just turn the spigots to the on position and water shoots through the hoses and out the pin holes. It’s not a perfect solution but it’s better than having to water everything by hand like we were doing in the beginning. That was a back breaking bit of work. Now I only have to water where it is obvious that it needs it.

Rand salvaged some honest to goodness black drip hose from an old tree farm but the hose was really long and meant to be hooked up to an electric will with lots of pressure. We couldn’t duplicate it so we plan on saving it for the corn rows and figure out how to pump the water through as best we can.

We did lose a few plants, I guess you can’t get away from that, lucky for us it wasn’t too much of any one type of crop to be overly worrisome so long as the February crops make. I still have seed held back and that should let us plant enough that there won’t be a shortage for next season’s seeds.

What did hack me off a bit was that I noticed, even with the fence and Woofer and Fraidy doing their share that something was nibbling around the edges. Whatever it was hit everything but the potatoes. Rand said they wouldn’t either because potatoes are kin to tobacco the same as tomatoes are and not even deer will touch them unless they are starving to death. “And Babe, there is plenty of mast even with the hard freeze we had so unless the animals over forage I don’t think we’ll have as much trouble as we did last year.”

I certainly hope not. With Austin to feed I need to increase the fresh and preserved food, especially as our “store bought” stuff goes away. Not that I’m complaining. Austin hasn’t been with us long and sometimes I still catch myself feeling weird about having him around, but on the other hand Rand seems to really enjoy it. He is used to having a younger tagalong following him around whether that was Brendon or Mick and he has the big brother thing down pat. And Austin is eating it up. His older brothers really missed out by shutting him out.

I’m so glad to be able to get back into the kitchen. It’s not that I’m ungrateful for the dishes people brought by while I was off my feet but I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to look a bean in the same way again. For lunch I made egg salad sandwiches. We had a bunch of fresh eggs that needed to be used up. I suppose I could have taken them over to the Shack to trade but egg salad is what I was craving and we had it. For dinner I knew the guys at least would need something heartier so I made Root Soup.

I cubed up one of the last of the canned hams we have (gave me about two cups of cubes) and put it in six cups of water and boiled it for ten minutes. To that I added one-half cup of dried potato slices, one-half cup of dried parsnip slices, one-half cup of dried turnip slices, one-half cup of dried green beans, one-half cup of dried brussel sprouts, one tablespoon of dried onion pieces, one tablespoon of dried grated carrot, one tablespoon of dried green bell pepper pieces, one-half tablespoon of dried celery powder, one teaspoon of chopped garlic, one teaspoon of Worcestershire sauce, and one-half teaspoon of celery seed. It sounds like a lot, and it is, but on the other hand there weren’t any leftovers when the recipe was supposed to make six servings.

What you do after you add all the dried stuff to the boiling ham broth is you make sure it comes to a boil again and then remove the pan from the heat, cover the pan, and let it sit for thirty minutes or a little longer. Then you put the pan back on the heat, bring the mixture back up to a boil, and simmer the soup for another thirty minutes until all the veggies are tender. I fixed corn muffins to go with it and there were enough left over that Austin and Rand mixed up some sorghum molasses and butter and put that on them for dessert.

Rand is definitely going to need to get that passive hot water heater set up on the roof of the barn, and maybe one on the house roof as well. The water tank on the back of the stove just isn’t going to be enough to keep up with our needs. In addition to the extra laundry that Austin is going to make (assuming I can ever get the poor boy some more clothes) the baby is going to make a lot of laundry. Gosh all these things to think of.


January 30th – Talked to Rand and he’d rather wait before we get into having a booth at the swap meets. Seems they’ve set the community calendar so that a swap meet will follow the Saturday after a church service. This way there is something going on every weekend for those that are interested. It’s going to be more than a swap meet though; more like a social and I don’t know what else to call it. The Ladies’ Auxiliary will have a sewing exhibit and class, there will be games for the youngest kids, horseshoes for the men, and I don’t know what all. I suppose we should enjoy it while the weather is nice and before the work really piles up; when that happens it is going to get hard to find the time to go to every church service and every swap meet and some of the other social events that people are talking about.

Bill and Missy close the Shack for the swap meets and they have a wagon they’ve built out of an old lightweight trailer that they will haul with goods in it. Bill has some men that he has “hired” to act as security to and from the park. I figure Rand shouldn’t be the only one trying to improve life for our little family. I made two halter tops and two “foundation garments” as my great grandmother used to call them. Not near the same as the aerodynamically designed and scientifically improved versions you used to be able to get in the store but better than nothing says I. I made them both in light weight pre-washed muslin so they should be durable, especially if they are hand washed rather than boiled with the rest of the laundry. I made them in average sizes and I guess I’ll tell Missy if she gets a lot of call for a particular size I’ll work on it somehow as long as I can get.

I also found a bunch of old costume patterns in Momma’s stuff like sun bonnets, aprons, prairie dresses, some civil war era outfits, and a few belly dancing costume patterns of all things. I so do not want to know why Momma had those last ones although she used to take in some sewing to make extra money so maybe they are just leftovers from those jobs. There were also some lingerie patterns and bathing suit patterns that I might be able to use. The main chore is going to be getting the material I need although for the undies I can just use old t-shirt material I think. This could be where Ram comes in handy. I haven’t got it all figured out yet and the sewing is just one idea I’ve had.

My next idea has some of the same issues as the first … supplies. Only the supplies are actually ingredients. When I got tired of sewing I stopped and scrounged around in the kitchen and in Momma’s craft supplies and came up with some plastic baggies that I filled with some convenience mixes.

The first batch I made was powdered vegetable broth. I mixed together one teaspoon each of the following dried powders: onion, celery, tomato, spinach, bell pepper, and carrot. Then I added in one teaspoon of cornmeal. Next was half a teaspoon of each of the following: dried parsley, cayenne pepper, all-purpose flour, and chopped dried garlic. That will net you about three tablespoons of mix. You add one cup of boiling water to one tablespoon of the mix and you have instant vegetable broth. I quadrupled the batch and wound up with twelve little bead baggies of mix. If these don’t get any movement I’ll tell Missy just to give them back and I’ll use them for our bug bags. Tomorrow I’m going to make some muffin mixes up; but not many. There is no sense wasting our supplies if they aren’t going to bring in anything worth the outgoing effort.

Speaking of bug bags … or Bobs as Rand calls them … Rand pulled ours out tonight and reworked them and made one for Austin too. They are going to start carrying the small ones with them when they are out – Austin cut his hand on a devil’s walking stick today and they had to come all the way back to the house from the gully just to get a bandage for it. The cut wasn’t long but it was deep, more of a puncture, and it took me some time to clean it out. I’ve cleaned it out again since then and I’ll clean it out again in the morning. It doesn’t look like there was anything but a little dirt down in it the first time but better safe than sorry. I’m just glad we still have triple antibiotic cream to put on it.


January 31st – I said the heck, it this morning raining anyway, and made two more sets of foundation garments. Now that I know what I’m doing it isn’t so bad. Not only that but Austin said something that got me to thinking. Apparently his grandfather had a lady friend by the name of Miss Lucille. Austin must have overheard Rand and I talking about what I was going to wear when I outgrow the overalls and he told me how Miss Lucille used to be in charge of costuming for Pioneer Days at the local historical farm. “Some of them women were awful big, bigger even that Peepaw, and they still wore dresses. Miss Lucille just told ‘em to pull the skirts up real high that way she didn’t have to sew new ones every year. How come you don’t just do that?”

“Because I don’t like to show my legs.”

“You could wear socks. That’s what I do when I had to wear shorts for PE.”

Good grief I feel stupid. Now why did it take a ten year old boy to give me that idea? It might get a little prickly when summer comes back but that’ll be better than having to go around with my pants unsnapped all the time worrying that they’ll fall down.

The bags of mix I made today were for apple muffins. I mixed a half cup of sugar, one and one-half teaspoons of baking powder, one-quarter cup of brown sugar, one teaspoon of ground cinnamon, one cup of chopped dried applies, two cups of all-purpose flour, two tablespoons of powdered eggs and one-third cup of powdered milk. I stapled the following directions to the bag: Add one cup of water and one-quarter cup of oil and mix just until moistened. Spoon batter into greased muffin tins and bake fifteen to eighteen minutes in a preheated 400 degree F oven or until golden brown.

Today’s lunch was fried tree rat. The squirrels are coming back out and they are hungry. Rand found some in the barn this morning scrounging the feed that the animals drop. Either Fraidy had gotten fat and sassy and can pick and choose her dinners or the squirrels are so numerous she can’t eat them all, even with Woofer’s help. We don’t want the squirrels building nests in the barn so he set up a live trap in there after he took the animals out for the morning. Two hours and he had four squirrels.

That’s not a good sign. He didn’t even have to bait the cage too heavily. After the larger than expected lunch I decided to make soup for dinner. I took three cups of instant potato flakes from my LTS cans, a cup of powdered coffee creamer, a package of chicken gravy mix that I had in our food storage, one-quarter cup of grated parmesan cheese, two tablespoons of seasoning blend (I like Italian), one teaspoon of dried minced onion, and one-half teaspoon of pepper and then mixed all the dry ingredients together. I put eight cups of boiling water in a big pan and then added the dry ingredients. All you have to do is stir it up to bring apart any clumps of dry ingredients and then let stand for five minutes to thicken. I crumbled a little dried bacon on top of each serving and then put a basket of cat head biscuits on the table too. Good thing we have feed because by the time I give what few scraps there are to Woofer Taz and his harem don’t get anything at all from the table any more.


February 1st – Now today has been some kind of busy. Got the new garden planted, pretty much a duplicate of what we planted in January except for a few different varieties. Spent a long cool morning getting this done but with all three of us focused on it it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

The rest of my work time was taken up by cleaning the house. I’d been putting it off knowing what a job it was going to be but there just wasn’t any way around it. There was stuff still on the porch that needed to be brought in before a good wind and rain storm came, Austin needed his room cleaned out and … well, I needed to take a good look at what we had in the baby’s room.

I think I did too much. I was ready to pop a couple of Tylenol in my mouth until I remembered what Ken said so instead I made up a warm compress and just put it across my lower back. Being pregnant changes everything.

First thing was first, I pulled all of the storage tubs and bags out of Austin’s room. I don’t see any way around it, we are going to have to store some of the tubs up in the dormer room. I’ll leave that to Rand tomorrow and he can handle Austin however he sees fit. What I want to do is move the straight back sofa (looks kind of Victorian) up to the front bonus room and then take the futon that is already in the bonus room and move it up to the dormer room in the place Rand used to put his mattress on the floor. The two cheap (aka junky) chest of drawers in the bedrooms I emptied and had Rand move them out to the storage room in the barn. I figured he could use them to organize some of his tools and supplies … or break them apart and used them as building materials. I put the nice chiffarobe in the baby’s room and put a full-sized armoire in Austin’s room.

I emptied one of the big trunks that had dishes in it and had them slide that into Austin’s room as well. I plan on putting spare linens and blankets in the chest to fit his bed which will save me the room in the regular linen closet. I did the same thing for the baby’s room and also slid a small chest of drawers into the closet to use for baby stuff.

I got everything moved out of the two rooms that didn’t belong and even managed to move a few things in there but boy howdy there was still an awful mess. I found places for all of the pots, pans, and dishes. I can’t imagine ever using all of that stuff but Mrs. Withrow said I might be surprised. I suppose but it is still hard to imagine.

I think I’ve even got spots for all the furniture. In addition to what I had them move around … I still haven’t told rand about the sofas though … I moved one of the chests to the end of our bed and I was able to move my keep sake stuff into it with plenty of room for other stuff, moved the old spinning wheel up to the craft room, put two small end tables and a low slung chest upstairs on either side of the sofa (that I’m more determined to move around the longer I think about it) and we’ll move the real book cases upstairs to the bonus room too but that will have to wait until Brendon stops by as getting them up those stairs will be tricky.

Then I found places for what I could. I still have a pretty good pile of stuff … and the sofa/futon issue … that need to be finished up but I was beat and Rand is wanting to go to bed. I think he needs a little attention. It’s going to be weird with Austin in the house but doors close. Besides I guess we better get used to it.


February 2nd – I think I overdid Baking Day a little bit. In addition to the normal loaves of bread I make I made cookies, doughnuts, an applesauce can, and some pecan brittle. I must be nuts. I had to force myself to let Austin and Rand have the spoon and mixing bowl to lick. I’d laugh at myself if I wasn’t so embarrassed that they’d ask me to explain. When I compared the baby to an alien making me act different maybe I wasn’t so far off after all.

I keep trying to imagine what my life would have been like if the flu hadn’t happened. I’d be in my senior year of highschool biding my time until graduation and praying that I got the scholarships that would get me into college. I’d probably still be struggling socially with only a few friends and none of them any closer than arms length. I probably would be captain of the debate team … assuming the coach hadn’t found a prodigy to favor it with. Aunt Wilma would still be alive and I’d probably still be lonely. I wouldn’t have met Rand and … that’s enough. Why imagine what is never going to happen, what can’t happen. Why would I miss that stuff anyway? Sure, my life is a lot different. I’m different. But I’m beginning to be a whole lot more comfortable in my skin than I ever hoped to be.

Enough philosophizing. Swap meet is tomorrow. I have to be up early to pack our picnic basket and to have the stuff ready to pass off to Missy as incognito as possible.
 

 

[nancy98]

WhooooHooooo Mizz Kathy is baaaaaack


How are you feeling?

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 79A

February 3rd – I swear! What is it about getting a group of people in one location? I think it must bring on a touch of the crazies. All I can say is this time it wasn’t me that had the crazies though on second thought a few of them people were close to driving me that direction. And it really wasn’t people from our community; it was mostly the strangers that came in and really wonked up the chemistry.

Up early, doing the breakfast thing, the chore thing, yada, yada, yada. Loaded up the wagon and off we went. I offered to let Austin sit up with Rand but he wanted to sit in the wagon bed with Woofer. Those two are nearly inseparable now. I can’t say I mind. I know Woofer needed a lot more attention than he was getting, I just didn’t have it in me to give him more and Rand didn’t have the time either. Even Fraidy seems to be enjoying the space she is getting now that Woofer isn’t constantly trying to get her attention. I haven’t seen her swipe at his nose for several days now.

As soon as we got there we noticed a completely different feel to the air than last time. At first I felt guilty because I thought it had to do with what I did … until Mitch came over.

“Lots of strangers around and some of them are a bit odd. We’re setting up a guard on the cattle and wagons. Kiri … look, I don’t want you taking this the wrong way but … “

“Mitch, just spit it out. I’m OK with straight talking. You worried about a repeat of last time?” I asked my boldness catching him a little off guard.

“Well … you want the truth then the answer is yes and no. Don’t get bent out of shape Rand. I know what happened last time was … unfortunate. But … well … you just hafta see these people. I’m not too sure but that some of them aren’t aiming to cause trouble intentionally later on. To what purpose I don’t know but it could be misdirection or they could be checking us over to see how strong we are. One in particular matches the description of a bad character some of the river communities have passed along as a warning.”

Rand grumbled, “Great. You think I should take Kiri and Austin home?”

Mitch, noticing the boy and the dog peeking up over the edge of the wagon said, “Hey Austin, how ya doing buddy?”

“Fine Mr. Peters,” Austin answered but he looked quickly at Rand to see if we were going to turn around and leave.

“Rand, I can’t tell you what to do but if these swap meets get as successful as we hope we aren’t going to be able to control all the folks that come to ‘em. We need things from outside the community. We need to open up some lines of communication so that news – both good and bad – can be passed around faster. We can only feed on ourselves for so long.”

I could tell Rand was still on the fence so I said, “If it’s me you are worried about I’ll stick with Momma O and Mrs. Withrow or maybe I’ll help Missy. Bill should be around there most of the time and when he isn’t didn’t you tell me he hired some security?”

“Fine, but what about Austin?”

“I could come with you Rand. Really. And I’ll be quiet. I won’t make trouble. Honest!”

I knew that Rand was sunk just as soon as Austin looked at him with those begging puppy dog eyes. Rand can be such a sucker.

Giving in Rand told Austin, “Fine. But if I catch you wandering off without permission I’ll send you to the wagon. You got that?”

“Yeah. You bet Rand. I promise. Um … is … is Mick and Tommy going to be here?”

I tried really hard not to smile. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that Rand was having the same problem. Rand made sure that Woofer’s rope was securely tied and gave Austin his marching orders … that’s what Daddy called it when he set the rules before we went some place; all the can’t do this and can’t do that and the might be able to do something or other only if we followed the first two to the letter. Daddy was strict but only because he loved us enough to go to the trouble. I didn’t appreciate then but it’s weird how when you don’t have it you miss knowing there is someone in the world that gives a heck how you turn out.

I asked myself more than once today when did I turn into a real live grown up and get old. I am seventeen and I acted more mature than some of the people at the swap meet that were a lot older than me. Is it getting married? Is it suddenly having to act like a parent for Austin? Is it the baby growing inside me, changing me? Or is it all of that, or more than that combined?

I still feel like I’m the same me that I’ve always been but at the same time I’m a different me. Writing it down makes it sound kind of - what’s that word - pretentious. Yeah, that’s it. Writing the questions down like that makes me sound pretentious, like I’m trying to put on an act and make myself sound better than I am. But that isn’t what I mean. I know what I mean but just like when I’m talking sometimes it’s hard to make it come out the way I mean it to. I feel old and that is all there is to it.

After Rand agreed that we were going to stay I grabbed my basket out of the wagon, we made sure the picnic basket and water bottles were covered with hay, and then we walked towards the area where several tables were already set up and ready for customers.

I looked around and then I had to look around two more times before my brain would believe the pictures my eyes were sending it. I’m from Tampa, no one could claim it was a small town. I went to highschool in Tampa, one of the largest in the school district. I lived in a foster home and worked in a diner frequented by all sorts of characters. I’m used to weird, odd, and eccentric … but even I was having some trouble computing some of the folks wandering around in the park.

My stars! I think some of those people were playing like Mad Max had come to life. The way they dressed was everything from your semi-normal goth persona to a metallic punk-style to some that looked like they were trying to look like their favorite video game character to a … a … I guess they were some type of religious group. I never did figure out if they were a primitive Christian sect or if they were some kind of earth-worshippers or if they were something else all together; they weren’t making their message real clear if you know what I mean. They were dressed in real simple cotton sack dressed, even the guys. They were wearing sandals made out of tires and walked with staffs. They looked like they had found a trunk of ancient shepherd costumes. Add to that we had real off-duty military folks – a few of them – and had some river folks that look like they’d just come in from a hunting expedition.

Of course the locals weren’t looking exactly what normal used to be either. There were plenty of regular day clothes but in general they were mixed in with wardrobe pieces made of hides, furs, gator skin, etc. For instance, there was a guy dressed in leather-patched jeans wearing a western-style shirt with snaps instead of buttons, snake skin belt, gator boots, and a woven palmetto frond hat with a hat band made of what Rand said were wild turkey feathers. Rand said the guy looked like he had a hangover from drinking some Wild Turkey also. Well, he was something all right but I wasn’t sure if it was a hangover or not.

I suppose I shouldn’t be talking. I look like a reject from that old show called Hee Haw. I mean seriously. Seeing the other people made me realize that I didn’t look so much funny as ridiculous. What made it worse was there were some ladies there that had tried to make themselves look nice even with a limited wardrobe and some of the non-local girls looked … well, even I noticed they looked really nice with make up on and everything. I looked down at my rolled up overall pants, my striped socks above my beat up work boots and I still wonder if I’m not embarrassing Rand.

And the day just kept getting better ….

“Come on Austin, we’ll walk Kiri over to Missy’s and then we’ll … Holy crow! Stay close!“

There was a crowd forming around the Trade Shack trailer. Rand tried to push his way through the crowd. It was Austin who spotted a way around the crowd by coming in behind the wagon. We almost didn’t get where we were going because of the security guards (I heard Rand mutter something like “Mall Cops” under his breath) and then I saw Missy leaning trying to catch her breath and heard Bill shouting, “One at a time !@#$%^, one at a time!!”

Boy was Missy big, I mean so big she really had no business trying to do what she was trying to do. “For once Missy, just tell me simple, what can we do to help.”

Rand went to one side of their table and worked pre-orders – orders that had been agreed upon at a set price before the swap meet – so that Bill could haggle with new customers. Austin and I bagged or tagged outgoing and incoming items or folded them so that people could put them in their own carriers. Woofer played watchdog and wouldn’t let anyone get too close to Missy who was in a chair still trying to catch her breath.

After about an hour the opening crowd thinned out and spread out to encompass the rest of the swap meet leaving Bill able to handle the front desk but Missy really wasn’t in any shape to do anything yet. “Bill, why don’t I stay and help? Rand really doesn’t want me wondering loose and … “

“I didn’t say it like that!” he huffed.

I laughed, “I know but it amounts to the same thing.” A little conciliatorily I added, “I don’t like the crowd of strangers anyway and this will give me something to do besides sit around moping that I didn’t bring anything to do.”

Bill said with relief, “Kiri, if you’re willing to stay I’m more than glad to have you. Rand, I can use the help if you don’t mind and you can see the security we have stationed here. I tried to talk that hard headed woman into staying home with Alicia and Laurabeth but she wouldn’t listen.”

Missy’s stubbornness is even more legendary than mine. So, Rand appeased about my safety, I stayed while he and Austin went out looking.

“I hope he hasn’t missed out on any deals with the late start but I’m glad you two popped in. Do me a favor, at the next lull check on Missy for me. She won’t tell me how she’s really feeling. All she does is say ‘fine’ every time I ask her and the last thing she looks like she is feeling is fine.” Bill said under his breath so only I could hear.

It was another thirty minutes before I could get back to Missy. Bill was right, she didn’t look good but there wasn’t any getting her to admit it. “I’m pregnant and as big as a freaking elephant. How am I supposed to feel? Like Cinderella at the ball?”

I changed the subject real fast and handed her the basket I had brought. That distracted her all right. She wanted to know what everything was and what it contained.

“Next time write down the ingredients you used or at least make me a card that I can keep on file. We’ve got people that come in with allergies and stuff that are always asking if stuff has this, that, or the other in it and most of the time all I can do is guess. We’ve got this kid who comes in that is allergic to milk and he has to …”

“So teach him how to make soy milk.”

“What?”

“Well, I figure if he could have goat’s milk you would have said so teach him how to make soy milk from soy beans. I know you’re bound to have a ton of those.”

“Not a ton but close to it. Are you telling me you know how to make soy milk?”

“It’s not rocket science Missy.”

“Maybe not but I’m thinking that maybe I need to keep you on staff as a consultant.” After I snorted at her comment leaving her with a pretty clear idea of what I thought of it she said, “Seriously girl. Give me the directions for soy milk and I’ll give it to the kid next time he is in.”

Soy milk really isn’t that hard to make. For a full pitcher of milk you take a pound of uncooked soybeans, a half cup of sugar and a little flavoring … a slice of orange, a vanilla bean, etc. You cover your pound of soybeans with water overnight until they plump up. Next drain the beans in a colander and then get you a blending contraption. I have an old fashioned crank blender but last swap meet I saw that people were converting some new appliances to crank power … sort of what the Amish and strict Mennonites do. Put a little over a cup of beans in your blender and add water … one part beans to three parts water … and then blend until you have a fine pulp.

Pour the pulp into a non-stick pot and bring it to a rolling boil for twenty minutes. Skim off any foam that forms. You should also add your vanilla bean or whatever at this point. Put some cheesecloth over the colander and sit it in a large bowl. After you finish boiling the pulp pour it into the cheese cloth lined colander. Let the “milk” strain out of the pulp. Lift the four corners of the cheesecloth out of the colander and squeeze it to get as much “milk” out of the beans as possible. The leftover pulp can be fed to animals or used to make bean burgers or something like that.

If you don’t have a vanilla bean or slice of orange or whatever, you can use extracts but if you do that don’t add the flavoring until after the pulp has been strained out of the liquid. The liquid is then ready to be put into a pitcher and put someplace to cool. Homemade soy milk is only good for two or three days at a time so people should only make what they need during that time period unless they want to waste food.

After I finished explaining it to Missy things started hopping again and I went to help Bill. About twenty minutes into the rush I looked back and saw Missy talking to a couple of women and showing them the ladies’ stuff I had made. They were both counting out Sand Dollars. I hadn’t even realized those things were still being used. At the next lull I asked Bill since Missy was still messing with customers.

“Um Bill … “

“Hmm? Oh, those are special customers, don’t worry about it. Missy will handle them and they won’t give her a hard time.”

“But they’re using Sand Dollars.”

“Yeah. We don’t see too many of those but some of the people around town still have them. We take them in when we can and then trade them in at the military compound.”

I was still confused. “But I thought they were just paper now.”

“All they ever were was paper. They have the value assigned by the state government. They don’t mean much for general trade and barter but if we can accumulate enough we take them to the military compound and place a large order for some commodity and it is an easier transaction for us.”

“Oh.”

Missy came up then and said, “Kiri, please tell me you are taking orders.”

“Why?” I asked suspiciously.

“Because I’m standing here with an even dozen pre-orders for your undergarments and twice that many for those mixes you brought in. Every time I try and sit down I have someone else come by and want to know if we have any more of either. Bill, talk to her.”

“Bill doesn’t need to talk to me. I’m willing but what do Rand and I get for doing this?”

“What do you want?”

“Have you found any of those boys’ clothes yet?”

“Don’t worry about that, it’s already covered and it’s bagged up in the trailer. Rand came by and gave Bill a hand with some security stuff at the house and the Shack.”

“Then let me talk to Rand, or put it on our account some way.”

“I’d really rather not owe you Kiri, bookkeeping is tricky enough as it is.”

“Let me think on it Missy. I’ll let you know before we leave, OK?”

It was getting close to lunch time wen Rand back. “You hungry yet? I’ve got all the boys and they are about to eat me alive.”

Bill said, “Go on. We are gonna shut down and take a break for a little while too. May not even open up if the crowd starts to thin any more.”

So I went and was glad to, anything to get out of the crowd. We got back to the wagon just in time to see Mitch Peters dragging a drunk over to a wagon and throwing him in. “Haul him down the road a piece and dump him with the others.”

Rand asked once we caught up to where Mitch stood watching the wagon pull away, “Others?”

“Yeah, you saw where they set up that bar of so-called ‘adult beverages.’ We’ve had some real fools acting up today.”

I asked, “Who on earth would do something like that? Don’t we have enough trouble without making more?”

“Don’t know ‘em but they fit the description of the trouble makers I told you about. You can just about smell that stuff before you get over there. Kiri you were well out of it. They were smart enough to set up a ways away from the main loop of tables but it still caused no end of trouble, especially when some of the women found out their men were spending what little trade they had on cheap corn liquor. Sorry Rand but I can’t talk. I gotta go, I just got radioed we have a brawl over there now.”

Austin, Mick, and Tommy climbed into the wagon bed and then helped me in while Rand boosted me. I felt ridiculous. And boys are honest to a fault about some things. “Wow Kiri, you’re getting big. Good thing we were all here to help Rand get you into the wagon.”

“Gee, thanks boys,” I said but it flew over their heads. Rand looked at me when they weren’t looking and got a big ol’ guy look on his face and made me blush. I’ll say one thing for Rand, he sure is getting a kick out of the changes my body is going through. They fascinate the heck out of him which is bizarre to me. I look at me and feel like a beached whale, when he looks at me he makes me feel like a queen. Just too weird.

For lunch I had brought a quart of salsa and a bunch of homemade tortilla chips that I made last night after dinner. They weren’t as good as if I had just fried them up but they weren’t bad either. I thought Mick and Tommy were going to go bonkers when they saw them and they listened to Austin like he was telling an adventure story when he explained how he had gotten to help make them. Austin’s scrawny little chest was all poked out and so proud of what he had done, I didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was no big deal; to the boys it really was.

There was also queso blanco grilled cheese sandwiches and apple juice to drink. For Rand I brought an extra sandwich made of the leftover BBQ venison we had for dinner last night.

When we walked back we found out that Bill was closing the Shack trailer and taking Missy home. “She won’t admit it but she needs to go home and lay down. It’s not worth the worry to stay here any longer; all the pre-orders have been picked up and we already did about three times the business we expected besides. Rand, anything you want me to tell your uncle?”

I heard Missy yell out from the trailer, “Bill, don’t you let Kiri leave until that business is taken care of.”

Rand’s eyebrows hit his hairline, “Wow. She sounds … cranky.”

Bill rolled his eyes, “You’re telling me. She’s trying to do too much but will she listen? Let’s finish up before she decides to come out here and take care of things herself. Where’s … oh here it is. This is the bag of clothes. Missy put a note in there too. And about that other stuff …”

“What other stuff?” Rand asked.

“The stuff in the basket from this morning,” I explained. “I was going to use it to pay for the clothes but you took care of that already. Missy doesn’t want to leave it on account so is there anything you need?”

“Actually,” and Rand pulled a note pad out of his pocket and tore off a page and handed it to Bill. “You think you can get any of that stuff without us going broke in the process?”

“Yeah … yeah, as a matter of fact I just got some of this stuff in the other day. If you want to come by tomorrow I’ll see what all I can pull together between now and then.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 79B

We left, me remembering to grab my basket just in time, and started walking and looking at the booths that were still open. “Sorry Babe, I should have come back sooner. It looks like a lot of people are starting to close down and head on home.”

“That’s all right. It’s not like …” and about that time I got knocked into from behind sending me to my hands and knees suddenly and hard.

Woofer went crazy and Austin had a hard time hanging onto him. I was trying to drag myself up when someone ran over and told me to stay down, it was Julia. “Are you crazy? Where’s the baby?” I asked her.

“With Ron’s aunt already heading to the wagon. Just stay down, Pastor Ken is coming and Rand and Ron are about to put a whooping on …”

“Oh no, not another brawl! I’m not hurt, please tell Rand I’m not hurt. We don’t need any more fights.”

“Stay down Kiri and let the guys handle this one. There have been one too many drunks starting fights. I guess they didn’t realize you were a girl with your hair up in your hat and the overalls on.”

“Come on, do I look tall enough to be a guy?”

“They’re drunk Kiri. Drunks don’t have a lot of sense. They were just spoiling for a fight, a lot of drunks are just as nice as nice can be when they’re sober but put a drink in their mouth and they turn into Mr. Hyde.”

Rand and Ron didn’t really have a chance to do much more than back the drunks up because Mitch and a couple of his guys ran over. But suddenly there was a pile on and all heck broke loose. Julia and I crawled out of the way as best we could but I was frantic because I couldn’t find Austin or Woofer.

“Easy Kiri, we got ‘em.” That was Mick and he looked set to be a white knight with a baseball bat. Tommy was helping Mrs. DeLois wipe some blood off of Austin’s knees.

She said, “Thank goodness I convinced Momma to just stay home today. She wasn’t feeling well this morning and this would have been more than she needed.”

If you weren’t in the fight and didn’t have menfolk involved in it, you got gone as fast as you could. I don’t blame them but on the other hand, running from a fight just doesn’t set well with me, especially if you are able bodied.

When it finally settled down I heard Mr. Henderson cussing a blue streak and then he said, “New !@#$ rule – NO LIQUOR AT THE SWAP MEETS!! Anyone caught bringing it in will answer to me personally.”

Then I heard another voice, “Who are you old man to tell anyone what they can and cannot do?” I found the voice attached to the guy Mitch said to watch out for.

“I’m going to be your worst flaming nightmare if you start messing in my territory George Corday. Word has already come down. You aren’t nothing but trouble. You make trouble here you gonna find it the last thing you do in this life. You got me?” The sounds of shotguns and rifles being made ready sounded all over the park. I even saw Rand pump his shotgun which made my mouth fall open.

“Geez Kiri, close your mouth. You ought to know how Rand is. And you’re the last person to be surprised by this happening,” Julia whispered in my ear.

I didn’t know whether to be insulted by that or not. I let it go either way as it wasn’t worth it and she was right. I though Corday had some sense when he left though it isn’t the first time I’ve been wrong. Mr. Henderson called out, “OK folks, it is getting towards time to break it all down. If you still have business, let’s get er done and we can all get home and get some food on the table before it gets dark.”

Rand rushed over while Mr. Henderson bellowed out his “suggestions” and I had a time convincing him I was fine; a little scuffed up but just fine. Suddenly a shot rang out and there were some screams and I saw Mr. Henderson stumble and grab his gun with his off-hand. Then there was more gun fire and people were running and screaming all over the place.

Rand pushed us behind some trees and told us to stay there. The gunfire was making Woofer crazy and I couldn’t blame the poor thing. No living thing wants to get caught in a battle, but he’s a good dog and stuck close to Austin’s side. Then I did something that wasn’t exactly … well … OK, here it is. Ken said I couldn’t practice shooting every day. He didn’t say anything about if the necessity arose that I couldn’t defend myself. Out of my fanny pack I took two of the old hi-points that I took off the gangbangers what feels like a lifetime ago.

“Mick.” When he saw the gun his eyes got … old. “No cowboy moves. This is for just in case, understand?”

“Yeah Kiri. Dad wouldn’t let me bring the rifle or you wouldn’t have to do this.”

“Your Dad just wants to give you a chance to be a kid for a while still.”

“Sure. I understand. But I’d like the chance to grow up too and I’m not going to get that chance if some jerk shoots me up.”

Good grief. I felt old right then. I feel old right now. Where did our innocence go? Was it stolen or did we give it up ourselves?

I heard Mitch call out, “They’re making for the river. A military patrol is already on their tail. I want a head count people, check for wounded.”

I didn’t hear Mr. Henderson and that worried me. I didn’t see him either. They’d already whisked him and the rest of the family back to the ranch. Rand is going to go up there tomorrow to check on them.

For all the bullets flying we really didn’t have too many injuries. The few we did were being looked after by Ken. I wasn’t allowed to go any place until he’d checked me over as well. I told him the only thing I needed to do was get the boys home. “Rand, she’s fine, no blood pressure problems beyond what I would expect under the circumstances. Just get her to keep her feet up for the rest of the day.”

I hate it when people talk like I’m not there but Rand started hustling us all toward the wagon. We made sure Paul had collected his mom and didn’t need help. We met Brendon over at Clyde’s trailer of reloading equipment; the man was frantic because he couldn’t find Melly. A moment before we were going to go look for her she stumbled up with Ron Harbinger. “Clyde!”

Oh boy. Clyde had an awful look on his face but it changed to surprise when Ron stepped in close and shook his hand and said something not meant for anyone else’s ears. Clyde nodded so hopefully nothing bad is coming from that. Maybe little Roo will get a chance to have two fathers.


February 4th – I went to sleep last night before I finished the story but basically all’s well that ends well … at least yesterday. We got to the wagon and loaded up.

Mick ran over and slipped the hi-point back to me out of sight of Brendon or Clyde (and Rand or so he thought). Rand gave me a look but didn’t fuss. All he said was, “Next time bring the Ruger and the Smith and Wesson. Mick can handle either one. I’ll start Austin on the bigger pistols this week.” Rand may have agree with Ken about me not practicing every day but that doesn’t mean he intends to hinder my ability to protect myself (and the baby). This made me feel better than I realized it would. Up to this point all I’ve been hearing is “you can’t do this, that, or the other” and it’s been making me … not exactly unhappy about the baby but kind of hemmed in like suddenly the more pregnant I get the less sense people seem to give me credit for having.

It wasn’t until we got home that I got a chance to go over the clothes Missy had been able to get for Austin. They aren’t anywhere near new but they aren’t as wore out as I expected either. And they are pretty good quality. There were a couple of pair of cargo jeans and some decent shirts. I’ll have to sew him some boxer shorts which may embarrass us both but better than him going commando. The undershirts are the tank top variety which is ok during summer but he’s going to need something a little warmer for a while yet even if the thermometer did hit 75 degrees F today. I’ll also need to make him a belt and some suspenders and put a deep hem on the jeans but that is a lot less work than I expected to have to do after looking close at what people were wearing yesterday. Also in the bag was a list of pre-orders and a note that said to make a list of materials I needed and to have Rand bring it to the Shack as soon as he could.

After yesterday I decided my wardrobe needed attention before I went any further on Austin’s or started on the pre-orders. I looked through Momma’s patterns and found a full skirt. It wasn’t long enough so I had to add some paper at the end before I pinned the pattern pieces to the material and cut them out. The material was this heavy cotton twill; it wasn’t denim but it was real close.

I’m tired but can’t seem to sleep. I know why and it … it is … well, I feel stupid but at the same time I’m … jealous. There. I wrote it down. I do trust Rand. I do. But I can’t seem to stop feeling like I feel.

We sat down to eat dinner. I made a venison pot pie and we were almost finished and I was thinking that it was time to bring the sorghum molasses pie to the table when Austin said, “Rand you think that SueLinda and her puppies got to a safe place?”

I couldn’t place the name so I asked, “SueLinda?”

“Rand’s friend from college.”

That was news to me. I looked at Rand and he had a shuttered look in his eyes even as he smiled at Austin and said, “I’m sure she did buddy. Kiri that was a really good meal.”

Tell me that doesn’t sound like a definite change in topic. I looked at Rand and he knew he’d been caught. “Her name is SueLinda Adcock. Her sorority and my fraternity participated in many of the same Greek activities at UF. She’s working on one of the river boats and it was just an accident running into her.”

I waited for him to say more … anything … but that was it. The conversation was closed and I could tell he didn’t want to talk about it though he tried to act casual and like it was no big deal. Maybe it isn’t a big deal but something about how … aw heck, I’m giving it up for the night. Rand wants me to come to bed and I guess I’ll just have to forget about it.


February 5th – I hate heartburn. Ew. I think dinner was a little too spicy for junior … or juniorette. As for the other stuff from last night, boy do I feel stupid. Or maybe not, there is some reason for me to be worried but not because of Rand. He as mostly embarrassed because he doesn’t think the full story reflects on him very well but on the other hand he feels so bad about what he almost did, almost fell for, that he can’t seem to keep enough distance from her and in fact strongly dislikes even the mention of her name.

That’s the short version. The long version is more complicated. And the only reason I’ve got it is because of Julia and Cassie. See, it started because I needed more mulch.

Rand went early, on horseback, to check on Mr. Henderson and to see if there was any other news. Mr. Henderson is fine; really cranky, but fine. Everything on the ranch is under heightened security and Mitch is organizing the posses that were combing the rivers for that Corday guy that escaped. Several of his crew were captured by the military but not him. There’s a bounty on his head now; he not only tried to kill Mr. Henderson, but he and his crew badly wounded a couple of soldiers during their escape from custody.

Rand came home followed by Brendon and Jonathon as well as the boys. Missy went into labor early this morning and Uncle George basically told them to get lost, that there were too many people under foot. The older guys had some talking to do which miffed the boys off for being excluded. I definitely knew the feeling but I figured that I could get whatever was going on out of Rand sooner or later but the boys did see it that way. The only thing I could think to do was pull the girl schtick and say, “Oh thank goodness. I thought they were going to keep you three tied up too. I really need some help getting some pine mulch.”

Tommy and Austin fell for it, Mick not so much but he still went along which was good because the other boys follow his lead. We hooked Bud up solo to our little wagon, put the tall sides on and then went up to the loblollies to start gathering pine straw. I guess we had been at it about an hour when Mick came over to where I was and said, “Julia and Cassie are turning in.”

Sure enough here they came with Ron Harbinger riding a gray gelding following close behind. He stopped and talked to the boys while Julia and Cassie filled me in on things around the county, including on the health of “Poppy” and Momma O’s latest attack of arthritis.

I sucked up my courage and asked, “Did either one of you meet someone named SueLinda yesterday?”

Cassie said to Julia, “I told you he wouldn’t tell her.”

“Wouldn’t tell me what?” I asked getting worried.

Julia gave Cassie a dirty look and said, “Kiri, don’t do what I did. SueLinda Adcock is in the past. Forget her. She’s nobody.”

You can’t just say stuff like that without explaining. The facts are SueLinda was a young woman ready and eager to console Rand when he and Julia were having trouble with their long distance relationship when he was a Freshman. She was the spider to his fly for almost a full semester. It took Rand almost as long to figure out that SueLinda was one of those women that liked to make her own notches in her headboard, a female version of that stereotype.

“Nothing happened between them Kiri and Rand was pretty embarrassed by the whole thing. SueLinda was a grad student, a few years older than him. He got ribbed pretty hard by some of his fraternity brothers.”

“For falling for her lines or for not taking advantage of what she offered?”

“Does it matter? Look, I nearly ruined things with Ron always whining about things – and people – that happened in both our pasts. I’m asking you for Rand’s sake not to make a big deal out of this. Nothing good will come of it.”

Cassie put her two cents in by saying, “But I wouldn’t turn my back on the woman. If she tried it once … “

Julia said, “Cassie! Don’t make things out to be … “

Cassie just rolled her eyes. “Oh for pity sake. Saint Rand isn’t likely to fall for it twice. I’m just saying SueLinda may not know that.”

Ron picked that moment to come over and ask if they were ready to go. It was like a switch flipped in Julia. I’d never thought of her as a … well as a submissive kind of person but it was all “yes Ron” and “of course Ron” when he was there. Cassie got this defeated look on her face and said, “Sure. Why not? I need to get back to help Abuela anyway.”

So that is what Cassie settled on to call Tia Cia. Wow. After they left the boys and I finished filling the wagon and we came back to the house. Tommy and Austin were taking the last cart of pine straw out to the garden and Mick and I were putting the mules back in the corral when Mick says, “If that SueLinda woman was the one I think she is, Rand really doesn’t like her Kiri. Tommy and Austin were paying attention to the puppies she was trying to trade away but I could tell that Rand really didn’t want to be there and when that woman tried to touch his arm he would move so she couldn’t.” What do you call that? Independent verification? Whatever, it gave me more to think about.

The Crenshaw clan could stay for lunch because they were already promised to Momma O’s but Mick and Tommy lost their mulligrumps when I sent them off with some molasses cookies and some dried fruit for the ride back home after they left from there.

Austin still needs more meat on his bones and I could tell he was pretty well out of steam for a while and so was Woofer who had loved having all three boys for company. Rand saw it too and told him to help him by keeping Woofer out from underfoot while he checked on the pregnant nannies. That gave me a chance to heat up the lunch which was vegetable-venison soup and cornbread.

After lunch they went and worked picking up all of the tree trash and getting it cut to the right lengths and I headed out to the garden to lay the mulch down and to check on what was popping up. The mustard greens will be ready starting tomorrow. I nearly cut some for today but that would have been a little too early. The other thing I’m going to pull tomorrow are some of the radishes.

Dinner was red beans and rice with the other half of the pan of cornbread. After dinner and general clean up Austin practically fell asleep on the sofa until we suggested he might want to take Woofer and “get him to sleep because he has had a long day.”

With Austin in bed and everything quiet Rand and I went off to bed a little early too. Having another person in the house has taken a little getting used to if you know what I mean. But he seemed kind of like Woofer gets on occasion; like he has done something he knew he shouldn’t have.

“I suppose you don’t believe me and you want to hear the full story.”

“About what?” I asked, because I really hadn’t been thinking about anything in particular.

“About SueLinda,” he said with a real stony face.

“No, not really. Cassie and Julia already told me.”

“They what?!!”

“Shhhhhh. You’re going to wake up Austin.”

Then in a much more moderate voice Rand spit out, “What did they tell you? I can just hear them both now. Gosh almighty! Don’t listen to … “

“Rand. You were young and she is a black widow. Let it go already.”

He just stood there with his shirt half off and his mouth hanging open. “They … you … huh?”

“Julia explained and I’m very sorry that I got jealous. I just took a good look at myself yesterday and realized again that you aren’t with me because I’m the prettiest girl in the room. I wish you would have told me how stupid I looked with my pants rolled up and those silly socks.”

“Stop. I’m confused. You’re apologizing to me for being jealous?”

“Yeah. It really was never about you. I trust you. Like I said, I just realized how I’ve been looking and …”

“You’re making my head hurt Kiri. I act as dumb as a stump over a woman that has ten years on me and you’re the one that is sorry.”

“Oh, she’s ten years older than you are? Julia only told me she was in grad school.”

“What else did Julia and Cassie say?”

So I told him and he basically confirmed it; but he sure was surprised at how they told it. He was also surprised at Julia’s advice and how she admitted that she had almost messed things up with Ron.

“But Rand, it is kind of weird too. Whenever Ron is around she turns really … odd. It reminds of this book we had to read for modern lit called The Stepford Wives.”

“Hey it’s her choice.”

“Rand … “

“Look, I know it …yeah, ok, so it is weird but that’s none of our business. That’s their private lives. I’m not going to tell them how to act and be with one another anymore than I want someone doing that to us.”

“You’ve gotten a few comments huh?”

“Uh … “

“Rand I’ve heard ‘em all. I’m bossy, loud, strange, weird, moody … “

“Don’t … even … start. We haven’t had this argument in forever and I’m not going to start it again now. Look, about SueLinda. She’s … well she was bad news back then but I don’t know what she is now. All I do know is that I can’t help but be suspicious of her and that I’d rather us not have anything to do with her. I found my brain before she could mark a check by my name in her game book but I’m ashamed to say that it was close. I would have fallen for her if one of her old conquests hadn’t warned me in time. Can we just let it go? I’m hoping never to have to see or hear from her again.”

So I let it go and we concentrated on each other for a while rather than the past. Before Rand fell to sleep he told me what he and Brendon and Jonathon were talking about. That as much as dinner’s Cajun seasoning is what set my stomach on fire. It’s a wonder that I’m not running around like a chicken with my head cut off. There just isn’t anything we can really do about it right now. The family is making plans but there is only so much we can do right now.

The winter has been terribly hard for a lot people. In many towns and cities they count the dead daily. Starvation and exposure account for more deaths than the flu did. Bad water or no water and disease account for no small number of dead either. Before spring arrives we may see a lot of strangers in this area from the northern states and they’ll be on the lookout for food and other resources. And they’ll be desperate enough to simply take what they want.

We still have a little time but not much. Winter still has things pretty well locked down but the south is starting to thaw. I hope not but they think things may go back to as bad as they were during the end of last summer and into the autumn. And that doesn’t even include all the bad guys we already have around here. The crackdown on the rivers will push some of the bad guys out into the countryside. We’ll wind up with river pirates and land pirates.

Ugh. I’m getting the shivers. I’m going to bed and hope that we’ll hear that Missy is OK in the morning. Rand and I have been stepping around that one all day trying not to think of why no one would have come to give us the good news.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 80

February 12th – It’s been a week since I’ve been able to put pen to paper. A long, hard week. I’m plenty worried. I guess, let’s see … yeah, I haven’t even written about Missy. The reason we didn’t hear last Monday is because it was Tuesday before the baby was born. Missy and the baby are just now finally out of the woods.

Apparently what happened is William Jr. … they’ll call him Billy until he is older … turned out to a big baby, a really big baby. Ken had warned both Bill and Missy about the possibility due to her size but they had kept it to themselves. She was in labor over twenty-four hours. If they’d been able they would have done a caesarean before the labor had gotten that far. Both Missy and the baby were in a lot of distress and Ken had to actually use forceps to get the baby the rest of the way out. He was blue and floppy when he finally made it but they got him breathing. I’ve been over and he sure doesn’t have any problem breathing now, I don’t think he stops crying except when he is latched onto Missy.

Missy is just off her rocker. She is very independent and suddenly to never be able to get away from the little person she had inside her is a huge learning curve for her. Sometimes all she needs to do is be able to walk away for a few minutes but Jr. starts crying to be fed. Missy is still in bed for the most part because of some sewing up Ken had to do (and no, I don’t want to even think about that part of it) and because she is just so tired from the baby wanting to nurse all the time. He’s a big boy.

Stress and being really sore is making it hard for Missy to … I don’t know, it has to do with making enough milk to keep the baby satisfied and some other stuff I heard Julia and the other women talking about in whispers. I suppose I should be listening but I don’t have time to get freaked out about that right now. I’ll get freaked when it is my turn and that will be soon enough.

We were both up early Tuesday morning, I hurriedly cut some mustard greens and pulled some radishes, and as soon Rand finished morning chores he rode Hatchet over to his uncle’s to find out about Missy. He got there and saw Uncle George crying on the porch and he thought the worst. It was actually just relief, Missy had just finished giving birth about thirty minutes earlier and the baby had finally started crying and was taking its first feeding.

Mrs. Withrow and a couple other ladies were over there cleaning things up and were happy to see the greens; Missy needed the iron. Everyone there was exhausted so Rand helped with their outdoor chores and helped a terrified Brendon to settle down. It’s hitting him that this baby stuff is for real. He could lose Alicia though of the three of them she seems to have had the least amount or problems pregnancy wise.

When I asked about how Jonathon was taking it Rand said that he thinks Laurabeth can do anything better than Missy and having a baby shouldn’t be any exception. Well, I figure whatever it takes to get you through the day. If that is what he needs to believe so be it, though I hope for his sake he keeps it to himself. Missy may be tired right now but one of these days she’s going to get up and then all heck could break loose.

While Rand was gone most of that day I had Austin help me start placing the seedling trees we had potted back in October in the places that I wanted to plant them. I had to do something to keep from chewing my nails off in worry. I guess I can understand why Bill didn’t put the info about Missy out over the radio, you never know who might be listening and looking for a weak spot to take advantage of, but it just underlines the problems with communication that we continue to have.

Most of the cedars I was able to save went into a line around the home site. I’m trying to add more of a privacy screen to what we already have. There are plenty of places around here that have cedars on the road side of their fence lines as a sound and privacy barrier so when these grow up they shouldn’t look too unusual.

We are taking over the remainder of the 80 acre section next door. We are already using a chunk of it for the cows and to take over the year round pond … which is about twice the size it normally is right now from all the rain we’ve been having. According to Rand we got nearly ten inches in January and we’ve already gotten six in February which is two inches more than we should have gotten the whole month. The garden is in a good high and dry area thank goodness or we would have lost some of it. We already lost a small section of the rye in the utility easement from too much standing water but the sink hole is keeping the worst of it drained off.

I had Austin help me to put the agave and then Spanish bayonet around the edge of the pasture since that isn’t something that the cows will eat. Rand had already laid out a grid where we could plant more fruit trees in the new area and I got the pots arranged and Rand and Austin have been planting them as time allows. All but a few are now in the ground.

Austin and I were both happy to see Rand come home and to hear that Missy and the baby were doing as well as could be expected. What we didn’t know was that two days later Alicia would go into labor early. They had a little boy.

Alicia is very sick. She developed some kind of fever. It was gone in forty-eight hours but the house was upside down. The little boy is … well he is very small and they aren’t sure what is going to happen. One day he will seem like he is strong and the next day he seems to be failing, almost gasping for air. They’ve named him George Randall Crenshaw and we pray every day that he survives.

The never ending rain isn’t helping things. Lots of colds and sniffles going around. I ought to know, I’ve seen it while working in the Shack. That’s one of the reasons that I’m so tired.

See with both Bill and Missy out of commission and Alicia and Brendon as well … the guys try but they are so distracted and constantly running to check on their ladies and babies … that has created a real problem. Uncle George and Jonathon and Mick and Tommy are doing what they can but they all seem distracted too. But that still left the Shack unattended and the community needs the Shack.

So Rand and I talked it over with Bill and this is what we have come up with. We get up early, get our animals taken care of and I put food on for Rand and Austin through the day. Pastor Ken comes by and picks me up on his way to check on Missy and Alicia … he’s looking rough around the edges again, he needs a helper of his own, this house call stuff isn’t what I would call easy. I ride with him, work in the Shack with one of the local men standing guard on the porch and Bill running in and out throughout the day. Rand and Austin show up about mid afternoon, help do a few chores for Uncle George and then I ride home with them where I try and get my own house chores completed.

I don’t know how much longer Rand and I can keep this up. We are both exhausted. I don’t even know what you want to call what Austin is. Rand just let him sleep this morning, the poor kid just can’t keep up with this though he is finally started to put a little more meat on his bones; but none of it is fat.


February 15th – Missy and Alicia have been given a clean bill of health though neither one of them is what I would call frisky or one hundred percent back to where they need to be. Billy has gotten better as well and Missy’s milk finally came in all the way and he is a much more contented baby now that Missy has gotten the feeding him thing more under control. Georgie … that’s what they are call Alicia and Brendon’s son … is still frail but with the cool weather mostly gone, and plenty of helping hands to keep an eye on him, Ken expects him to do better as the weeks go by. He was technically a preemie but nothing too radical – somewhere between three and four weeks. His lungs were fully developed, he is just really weenie in size. All of the baby clothes Alicia and Brendon had for him swallowed him up so mostly they just keep him swaddled and I sewed him some fleece booties and caps during lulls at the Shack.

I don’t have to work at the Shack anymore and the reason why is pretty fantastic. I mean that in more than one way. It is hard to believe but it is kind of cool at the same time. On Tuesday who should show up on our doorstep but Ram. It wasn’t just Ram though; it was Concha, her little boy, and her mother and her new husband and her new husband’s seventeen year old son. I had already left for the Shack so poor Rand was stuck filing Ram in on what had happened and getting Ram’s story in return.

Things aren’t going to so good for the federal government. They really can’t afford to keep a huge standing army housed and supplied with all of their needs much less pay them. What they’ve done is allowed a large number of troops to revert to reserve status; they can be called up at any time but aren’t full time solders any longer. Fewer troops took this option than was expected, a lot of them simply have no home to go home to these days, or none that they want to go home to. Some are also counted on their military benefits to feed their immediate, and sometimes extended, family. Ram had been building his options up just in case something like this occurred and he was ready. The only thing he hadn’t been able to do yet was create a good home location to work out of.

While south Florida had its appeal it was seeing constant fighting between different ethnic gangs and incursions by foreigners. The military was a big presence down there but in a sense that was dampening his ability to set up his supply pipelines. The interior of central Florida had its own set of problems including transportation of goods and services. He had a lot of contacts around Steinhatchee but that wasn’t an area where he wanted to raise a family and have his main holdings. He’d been talking to Mr. Henderson about settling in this area and negotiations were under way but circumstances had speeded up faster than either man had expected.

Word had been relayed to Mr. Henderson through one of his patrols and he and Mitch had come to check out who the migrating family was. Round and around things went and when a potential solution was worked out Mitch rode over to talk to Bill about it. There was a square eighty on the other side of Bill and Missy’s place … Bill is no farmer and never will be but uses the acreage he and Missy are on as forage for Uncle George’s animals … that has been abandoned for months. The plan is to have Ram and his newly enlarged family move onto that land. There is no house on the land but from what I understand Ram had planned in advance that he might need to build a house on whatever land he finally settled on. Right now they are camping out in very rainy weather but from what I understand everyone is so happy to be out of all the fighting down in Miami that they hardly notice the damp.

While all of this was going on I was working in the Shack without a clue. When Rand came to pick me up – I had been wondering where Bill was and whether I should just lock up early because of the rain that had set in and run all the customers off – he and someone else were backing into the Shack carrying a big crate between them.

“Hey Babe, look who the cat drug in.”

“Ram!” I was so surprised. But not near as surprised as Ram was. I thought he was going to choke on his one teeth for a second.

“Hermanita! How are you … what?! When did this happen?!!!” and that was followed by a lot of fast and hot Spanish that I’m not even going to bother writing it down. When he found out how far along I was he got hot all over again. As soon as he calmed down enough for me to get a word in edgewise I told him to get over it since Rand and I had already had enough fits over things for all of us combined and it was time just to go forward.

“Are you sure you are alright little sister? I mean, you are so small and … and … there are no … no … doctors … and …”

“Ram, I’m warning you, my nerves aren’t going to put up with any more smothering than I’m already getting.”

“Already getting? Ah, so Rand has things well in hand hmm?”

What a chauvinist pig. But somehow he’d grown into even more of a big brother even with him not being around. That’s when it was my turn to be surprised as I had all the details filled in. Ram had brought the whole family with him and I was reintroduced to Concha who introduced me to her little boy who was asleep, to her mother who’s name was Marta. Marta was a handsome woman in her late forties and she introduced me to her new husband Rubio (also named Diaz but no relation to Ram) and his teenage son Anthony. Uncle George, Bill, Brendon, Clyde, Jonathon and several of the other neighborhood men showed up right after that and we got the Shack closed down for the night and got Diaz families set up in tents and tarps on a piece of clear land between the Shack and Uncle George’s place.

I couldn’t stay any longer, Rand needed to get home and he said so did I. I thought he was picking up Ram’s bad habits until we actually did get home and I saw what Ram had brought us.

Rand pulled back a tarp from off of some cardboard cases and mesh bags he had locked up in the barn and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing; oranges, tangerines, grapefruit, limes, loquats, and even some lemons … I was in citrus overload. I realized real quick it was going to be more than we could eat fresh.

“Babe, whatever you can do to preserve this you better try and make it last. Ram said this may very well be the end of these types of gifts for a while, especially the citrus. The feds have taken over most of the remaining citrus groves to try and prevent scurvy in the troops and for special WIC programs around the country.

“Scurvy? Isn’t that something pirates get?”

When Rand was finished laughing at me – and I guess it was kind of stupid, I wasn’t really thinking when I asked the question because I was busy counting the crates and bags and imagining what I could do with their contents – he told me that scurvy was something sailors used to get yes but it was also a bad problem for everyone that didn’t get enough Vitamin C in their diet. It’s just that all I could think of when he said scurvy was a pirate waving his cutlass around shouting, “Avast ye scurvy dogs!” Oh well, maybe my brains are leaking out of my ears. I accidentally put salt in the tea yesterday too. Luckily it was my own small pot of mint tea and I don’t intend on telling anyone else about it.

I was so tired that night that I went to sleep before Rand did which was a rarity. He said he was in the middle of telling me some of the stuff that Ram had been sharing and he looked over and I was curled up on the end of the sofa with my head tucked into the crook of my arm. I don’t even remember going to bed.

Yesterday I went back to the Shack only to find out that Bill, Ram, and Rubio had been making arrangements. Bill and Ram had been planning to go into business together in some form or another all along. They’d been conducting some salvaging operations and using Mr. Henderson’s connections to get things back and forth … for a cut of the profit of course. Ram hadn’t been able to do much up to this point because he had to be careful in his position on the Colonel’s staff but now that he was out he intended on really going to town.

How they are going to arrange things is that Missy and Concha would help Bill with the storefront. Marta and Rubio – both of whom grew up on small working farms in rural south Florida – would manage the eighty acres, growing food for the family as well as for trading at the swap meets and at the Shack. Ram is going to be the traveler. He’ll hunt up salvage himself or hook up with people to make trades with. Anthony will ride with him – which I think is going to be a relief to Uncle George because Charlene took one look at Anthony and developed an instantaneous crush on him according to Rand.

I have to admit I was feeling a little left out of all their plans until Rand acted like he was relieved no one expected us to be heavyweight enough to play in their game. They didn’t think less of us but Rand said it was nice to know that we still had a few secrets. After I took the time to think it through I suppose he is right. And besides, I like our privacy and like that we can call our time our own for the most part. I was going a little bonkers having to be nice to all those people that came and went at the Shack on those days I was there. Having to make conversation with all the family also made me itch. I like them, but at arms length most of the time. I like it best when it is just Rand and I … and Austin.

Austin seems content for it to be just us as well as long as he can see either Rand or I (and Woofer naturally). He enjoys being with Mick and Tommy but he doesn’t get lonesome when they aren’t around either. I think the way he was forced to grow up made him a loner; not as bad as me but he learned to be content with whatever he had at any given moment and isn’t upset too much if it isn’t there the next.

Today I’ve been canning citrus. Or actually what I’ve been doing is going through all of our food storage and what a job that has been. First I found a bunch of dried apricots that I had to do something with so I decided to try and experiment and it really paid off.

I rehydrated enough of the dried apricots so that I wound up with four cups once I chopped them up. Then I grated the rind off of an orange and then seeded the orange and chopped the pulp up. I put the apricots and orange through a food mill together then added two tablespoons of lemon juice to the resulting mess and then three and a half cups of sugar to that. I mixed it well and then put it in a pot and cooked it until the pulp was thick as apple butter. I ladled it into prepared jars and got about three half-pints to process. I had maybe half a ladle that wouldn’t fit in the jars which I gave to Rand and Austin to put on their biscuits at lunch.

I also made some lemon marmalade, lime marmalade, orange marmalade, tangerine butter, orange sections, grapefruit sections, tangerine sections, and loquat preserves. I juiced and canned all the juice I could, especially the lemon juice. I also preserved some lemons and limes using a recipe I found in Momma’s files.

You take as many lemons or limes as you wish to preserve and stud each with 6 cloves. Pierce the skins with a skewer to save your thumbs because I can guarantee you that poking those little cloves in my hand hurts. Place the clove-studded fruit in a glass jar and cover completely with oil or white vinegar. You have to put this someplace where it will stay cool so I stuck it in the cabinet where the hand pump is. They are supposed to be ready in 3 to 4 weeks; I didn’t do many just in case it was a flop.

I didn’t let anything go to waste, or not much anyway. I’ve got all the citrus seeds that didn’t get cut saved and even though Rand thinks it is a waste of time I’m going to try and sprout my own citrus fruit. If they do sprout – and even I admit that is a big if – I’ll need to grow them in pots and then build a large greenhouse to keep them in during the coldest months. Wouldn’t it be something though if in a few years we had a tropical garden conservatory or something like that.

Some of the peel I grated and dried to refill my spice bottles that I empty faster than I can find a substitute for. I can make my own lemon pepper seasoning or orange tea.

And the peel I didn’t grate I candied. You take the peel off of any kind of citrus you have, just make sure you cut away any of the white pith. Make sure it is washed also; no one wants to eat sand or dirt in their candy. The best sections are a quarter inch wide, almost like a string of peel. Put all of your peel in a pot and cover with water, cover it, and bring to a boil for thirty minutes. Drain this water (I used it to make my tea with) and then to the peel left in the pan add one box of fruit flavored gelatin (six ounce size), two cups of water, one cinnamon stick, and ten whole cloves. You are going to bring all of that to a boil, put a lid on it, and then simmer it for fifty minutes or until most of the syrup has been absorbed by the peel. You have to stir this a lot, especially towards the end, to keep it from sticking.

Then you take the peel out of the pan with tongs and roll it all in about two cups of sugar. You want each strip to be heavily coated with sugar. Cool the strips on and then store in an air tight container. I did three batches of this; the first with orange jello, the next with lemon jello, and the last with lime jello. I suppose I could have done something different like a strawberry or grape jello but I decided to go the traditional route.

Since Rand had to go back over to help Uncle George again I asked him to ask Ram if I could have any of the peel and seeds he didn’t want. Marta and Concha sent me a bunch and I’m sitting here waiting for the last batch to dry so that I can put it away and go to bed.

I found weevils in one tin of pasta shells but I was lucky that was all. By the end of March I think we’ll have used up all of the commercially packaged foods that we got from salvaging except for stuff like boxes of Jell-O, pudding mixes, and odds and ends like that. I think I’ve pieced things out just about as far as I can. Of course I still have stuff from Momma and Daddy’s stuff and the stuff that Aunt Wilma had stashed in the box springs but even that is getting used up. I really need to increase the chicken flock this year if I can. I’d like to be able to have a chicken dinner every so many Sundays and we definitely need to have more eggs. Warmer and more regular milkings has brought the milk production back up but Austin drinks a lot of it and for that matter so do I. It also is getting used up making butter and cheese.

Looks like I don’t have time for another cup of tea after all. The candied citrus peel is dry and as soon as I put it up I’m going to bed. Even with my slippers on my feet are cold.


February 16th – Couldn’t be helped, I had to harvest the spinach, turnips and the first of the lettuce in the rain today.

Rand is really upset. It looks like we may have lost a quarter of the rye harvest to this rain. The field where it was planted is flooding on one corner. He’s dug a trench to try and get the water to drain into the sink hole faster but the sink hole itself is nearly full.

The pond where the cows graze spread even more during the night. Rand had to clean the cows off when he brought them in. Taz and company enjoyed some buckets of water being poured on them and a good rub down as well. Rand wound up putting a ring through Taz’s snout and puts a leading string on him when he gets testy. Won’t have to move them too much longer; Rand almost has their own little barn all finished. Next he needs to make one for the goats, especially now that the nannies have their babies. We now have Ol’ Billy, the two nannies, and three kids. The kids are nearly as feisty as Ol’ Billy and worse than Fraidy as far about getting tangled up in my feet. I think they like me because they know when I bring stuff out to their mommas that they’ll stand still long enough for them to suckle until they are satisfied, usually the nannies make the kids run after what they want.

The garden is looking good despite all the rain. We do need a little sun but so far so good. I’m just tired of wet feet so I imagine some of the plants are too. Even though it isn’t too cold outside anymore we have to keep a fire going someplace in the house to drive off the damp.


February 17th – Doggone this rain. No swap meet today because of it. I can’t remember the last time I saw the sun for more than just a few minutes.


February 18th – We’ve had to start moving wood into the barn and onto the porch so we have some dry to burn. No church today but we still heard the news. Ram came over and wanted to know if he could borrow the donkeys that he’d left here last time. They have started clearing the land for the house but it is mostly just scrub in there and they just want to load it on the donkeys and take it out to the burn pile they’ve started.

Rand and I couldn’t see why not and it meant that we wouldn’t have to feed them for a couple of weeks while Ram had them.

“I like what you’ve done to the place. One of these days we’ll have one too. Maybe not a brick house but something nice that will fit the family.”

“Is it OK? I mean living with Concha’s mother and her husband?”

“Oh sure. When I wasn’t in foster care I lived with my abuela and it was her and three of my uncles and their families. All under one roof. There were two bedrooms for all of us kids to split; one for the girls and one for the boys. My two married uncles had their own bedrooms and the babies slept with the parents and my unmarried uncle slept on the lanai unless it rained or was too hot or cold and then help slept on the sofa. Abuela had the small bedroom all to herself. It wasn’t great but it wasn’t bad either. Concha didn’t have it quite so tough growing up but Marta is a good woman and I like Rubio. He’s even tempered, we get along. Anthony is a good kid, a little too serious, but he’s life hasn’t been easy. He’s actually Rubio’s grandson but it’s not really talked about if you get my meaning. His momma was a wild one and then ran off. The state wasn’t helping so Rubio and his first wife just adopted him to keep him from going to the biological father’s family.”

“Ram I didn’t mean to get into your business.”

“Hey, no problem chica. It was just easier to tell it all up front than playing the twenty questions you hate so much. So, when is this baby supposed to get here. I hear from Rand’s family it was a big surprise.”

“They tell me the middle of July but who knows. And yeah, big surprise.”

“And the boy? The one out helping Rand in the barn?”

“That’s Austin. I was … I had a …”

“Yeah, the blood pressure thing. George said it was bad.”

“Bad enough but no problems since and I wish people would stop spreading my business all over the place.”

Ram laughed, “Chica that’s never going to stop happening. You are too interesting. But really … no more problems.”

“Really. No more problems.”

“And you two have everything you need?”

“Ram we’re fine.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know you have … look, I didn’t even think … Rand is not angry that we didn’t not include him in the … “

Rand came in and said, “Don’t sweat it Ram. I’m no shop keeper. I wouldn’t mind being let in on some deals but … “

“That’s a sure thing. Dios mio, it wasn’t until I heard how your family talked – like you were just sitting out here in the woods with nothing – that I thought that maybe I was wrong. Don’t they know how much you have and how far you’ve come?”

I said kind of sarcastically, “Family can be blind like that.”

“Hmmm. Maybe. Or maybe they are … never mind. It’s none of my business and from the look on your face Rand the less said about it the better. I wouldn’t have made it as long as I did in the position I was in if I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. But they won’t be blind for long my friend. Once their weather lets up people will be begging you to come help them put in their gardens … I know Rubio wants to talk to you himself.”

It wasn’t long after that Ram left with the donkey’s on leading strings behind him … and a big gun across his saddle. I asked Rand, “Should he be out by himself? When I was at the Shack I heard all kinds of stories.”

“He’ll be fine Babe. Hoss is going to meet him up at the county road and ride with him. It’s his day to go visit his family over there. And speaking of news, we may have to go without the radio tonight. I don’t think we’ve had enough sun to replenish the batteries. Bill is looking for a couple more so we can have a larger bank of them but those deep cell batteries are getting hard to come by. I hope none of the ones we have go bad.”

“Don’t even think it. The only thing worse than hearing some of the stuff we’ve heard would be to be left wondering what is going on.”

Rand grunted in agreement and kept fiddling with the radio, trying to see if there was anything to pick up. Mostly all we heard about is the flooding of the rivers. The river has spread out and boats are getting caught on hidden snags that used to be part of the river banks. With the river spreading the current has slowed down so even those willing to be on the river in this area are having a hard time.

Heard a woman in north Georgia claim to have seen several caravans of people heading south. Most of them look pretty pathetic but she guessed that it wouldn’t take much to rile them up if there was something they were looking for.

The Caribbean is boiling over again as many of those island nations don’t have the natural resources to support even their shrunken populations. South Florida is definitely having problems but the military has reverted to zero tolerance down there and rumors on the airwaves say that every night sounds like a battle. You’d think eventually they’d run out of bullets but that seems to be the only thing they can find in sufficient amounts. They say the battles are over resources like food, fuel, and medicine but it seems to me that if they put as much energy into creating things as they did into destroying them there wouldn’t be the shortage that they have right now.


February 19th – It’s official, I am half way through this whole having a baby thing. Austin went to bed early tonight; he’s got a cold or the beginnings of one. If it gets any worse I’ll dose him with something, depends on where the cold tries to settle … his head, his throat, or his chest. After Austin fell asleep Rand and I got to talking and he pulled out the booklet. Or maybe I should call it The Booklet the way he treats that thing. The pages are dog eared even.

Last night as we lay in bed I could say for absolutely sure that I felt the baby moving. It was just so weird. I’m not even sure I could explain how it felt. Rand wants to feel the baby move so bad. I think it will be a little while yet before he can but he has made me promise to tell him every time I feel the baby move. It tickled me because he was so serious. It’s a little bizarre because sometimes he makes me feel like a science experiment and other times he makes me feel like I’m some treasure he is responsible for. The booklet says the baby is now about ten inches long and weighs about the same in ounces. I guess … I guess … well suddenly the baby is a lot more real than it was before.


February 22nd – Just when I start to think of my baby as a real live person something … we’ve lost so much. Why do some people think that life is so cheap?

Tuesday was a beautiful spring day. The rain had finally let up but there was still a lot of flooding all over the place; the rivers were high, the ponds flooded, the ditches full, the potholes still muddy.

I suppose we should have realized that all the flooding would push them out of their normal routes, make them desperate … or bold, depending on how you looked at it.

I thought I was ready to deal with this. I just can’t.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 81

February 24th – I’m dreading tomorrow. Just dreading it. I don’t know how ready I am for this. There’s a church service and it is going to be a community wide memorial service. So many, especially now that there has been time to check all of the homes along the river. Tuesday was a beautiful day to end so tragically for so many of us. Us. What a word. So many “us”’s have been torn apart.

Rand, Austin, and I were enjoying the day by sitting on the porch letting a lunch of fried rice and egg rolls settle. I had cut the first bunch of bok choy just that morning and couldn’t wait to use it. Suddenly Rand cocked his head which told me I needed to focus on some sounds beyond Austin talking about Woofer’s latest adventure. I had to hold my hand up so I could hear what had caught Rand’s attention.

It was gun shots. Not an unusual sound with so many people having to feed their family by hunting; however, it was the pattern and frequency that was unusual … and the fact that we were hearing it from at least two different directions.

Rand ran inside and turned the radio on that Bill had gotten for him with shares from the stuff I had taken at the last swap meet. He tuned it to the frequency that he knew Henderson’s men used and brought it out to the porch. As soon as he heard what was going on we began to put the animals in the barn.

“Babe, I want you and Austin to stay in the house. Take Woofer in with you. Fraidy is in the loft so don’t worry about her. I’m going to get in the hunting blind I built up in that old oak. I don’t want you to come out for any reason … I mean it, for no reason.”

No, I was not happy but what he was doing made the most sense. Before we locked ourselves in we agreed that today was a good as day as any to show Austin the dormer room and that’s what I spent the next little while doing and explaining that this was something else, just like the pantry and storage space in the barn, that was ours to know about and no one else’s. Austin is a good kid. The last few days have been very trying on all of us but not because he has given us any trouble. Rand said that Austin said as bad as things have been he still feels safer with us than he has since his step-brother had given him to the blue helmets.

The day was nerve wracking. Rand came back to the house a couple of times and then we locked down for the night. By morning it was all over and we never saw even a single shot on our road. But it didn’t take a bullet to wound our spirits.

Rand hadn’t really slept during the night. I tried to stay up with him but I just couldn’t; my body refused to obey. We were up for good about three thirty in the morning and he was packed and ready to hit the road when dawn was still just a hope on the horizon. Hatchet was saddled and the animals taken care of earlier than usual. I was standing outside watching him lead hatchet around the screen when we heard another horse coming at a full run.

Rand nearly shot but the rider was small and leaning over the neck of the animal barely able to hang on. Rand got the animal under control shut in time to keep Tommy from being thrown. He slid down to the ground in a heap. Between sobs we made out, “We need help. You gotta come, you just gotta. They’re all … “

Rand picked him up and carried him to the porch and then into the house, into the kitchen. In the light of the lamp we saw it; the blood. None of it was his but by the time we got the bare bones of the story we still didn’t know for sure who it belonged to. Life changes so quickly, sometimes it even ends before it begins.

Laurabeth was the first attacked and she is still the worst off. Or maybe it was Jonathon, Tommy didn’t know for sure. Jonathon had left right after breakfast to hook up with a cousin, he was trading work for the use of some tool or other, what it was no longer important. Everyone in and around the house were busy doing whatever the day called for and then suddenly Laurabeth screamed followed by the booming of a gun.

Tommy isn’t sure of anything after that except that they were far outnumbered. Raiders were trying to take the animals … and in broad daylight. That’s bold … or desperate … or maybe both. They also attacked the Shack and most of the other occupied dwellings on their road which is why it took a while to organize mutual aid for the neighbors; there wasn’t a house that didn’t have some kind of injury. At the same time River Road was being hit and hit hard. Over there it wasn’t individual hits on homesteads so much as they threw fire bombs in houses and barns creating complete confusion. As people ran out to take care of the fires they were ambushed. The pirates turned land raiders were smart enough to avoid the Henderson Ranch and the military compound.

It’s been days and we still don’t have a good timeline of events. Maybe that will come later. We’ve been too busy tending to the injured, burying the dead, and holding the hands of the grieving.

The injury to Laurabeth wasn’t life threatening, not then. What came later is what sent her over the edge. Brendon is hurt. Alicia and Missy are all right but in no condition to try and manage the household they have been left with, especially not with two infants, both needy; Ken has ordered them to bed as much as possible simply because he is worried they are still within the risk zone of a post-birth hemorrhage.

Uncle George is stoic. There isn’t much else to call it right now. Brendon and Mick are both hurt, Mick worse but not by much. Mostly they are recovering from blood loss as it was a while until their wounds could be attended to beyond a superficial bandage. Charlene and Janet are both shook up badly. Charlene had to escape a couple of men … you can imagine what they were after. Anthony is the one that saved her; he got injured in the process and it will be some time before he is able to go on a road trip with Ram. Janet, after initially looking her frailty was going to be the end of her, has found strength from someplace and has been an unbelievable help in tending to the wounded of which there are still way too many.

Ram and Bill left a yard full of dead raiders that tried to attack the Shack. Concha, Marta, and Rubio have been welcomed into the community with open arms after they came to the aid of many of the community that had been standing in the Shack’s yard when it was hit. Rubio, fortunately or unfortunately, was an old hand at street fighting having survived the mean streets of Little Havana and Little Haiti during the post-4th wave period when you did what you had to to feed and protect those under your care. I heard stories that are hard to believe but which Bill said was true how he took on gun armed raiders with only a large knife. More than half a dozen were found nearly decapitated.

I believe that Clyde and Melly may finally have gotten over whatever was holding them back. One of the few good things that has come out of this nightmare. Clyde nearly tore one of the raiders to pieces with his bare hands when he through Roo against the side of the house. The little boy practically bounced off. His little arm is broken and Ken thinks his kidneys may be bruised as well. After getting Melly and Roo to a reasonable amount of safety Clyde took off and along with Ram, and Rubio cleaned up the remaining raiders around their immediate farmsteads. Bill handle the radio and tried to coordinate some type of response with Henderson and with the military who were split between River Road and all the clean up between there and the Crenshaws.

Mrs. Withrow’s little house and the big house have both sustained quite a bit of damage. Rand and I finally convinced her to come home with us last night just until we could get her windows fixed and some working shutters built that she could manage by herself. She may not be by herself for long though. There is a special needs boy who lost the aunt and uncle he had been living with; he’s fifteen and strong as an ox and loves Mrs. Withrow to death. I guess even calling him special needs isn’t the right thing, his IQ is a little low but only noticeable if you saw him in an academic setting. He’ll always need someone to help take care of him but only because he is more interested in other people than himself.

I haven’t named everyone in the family, that part of it is tied up with what happened over on River Road.

The raiders hit nearly every place over there at the same time. Lots of fire damage, lots of death by ambush as people rushed out to save their animals and their buildings. Mr. Winston and Aunt Buzzy died instantly, cut down by the cowards that had thrown the fire bombs. Then one was thrown into the main house. Julia and the baby were upstairs.

Why does this have to be so hard?! Something just isn’t right that things like this can happen. Why did God let this happen?!! I just don’t understand.

Ron had been out in their far woods hunting some dinner when he saw the smoke, by the time he made it home the barn and the house were raging infernos. He saw his aunt and his father in law dead of gunshots and he ran around looking for Julia and the baby. And he found them when he heard a puny little cry coming from behind the old fruit house. He slowed down as he noticed a trail of blood from the back yard porch to the small structure.

He turned the corner and there was Julia and his son. She was clinging to life just long enough to tell the story and to make sure that someone would come for the baby. The fire had traveled up the old wooden structure in moments, preventing Julia from being able to escape down the stairs. She’d thrown some of the baby’s things and a few other odds and ends out the window and then climbed out onto the verandah roof in an attempt to get away from the fire and jump down without hurting the baby. She made it to the edge when a raider had stepped out and shot her in the leg. The roof was just thin sheet metal and when she fell, one of the trusses broke and she fell and a burning beam fell on her legs. She was able to save the baby and crawl to safety. She died in Ron’s arms of shock and whatever other damaged she had sustained from the bullet and the fall. But mostly from the fire. I overheard Ken telling Rand and Uncle George that she’d been burned clear down to the bone on one leg and he doesn’t even know how she got as far as she did.

Ron is a mess. Close to being certifiable from grief and shock. At one point Ken even suggested it might help to get him drunk but Ron won’t go near the stuff. He says never again, everything that has happened is payment for his past sins; that it is his fault that his family was killed and his farm burned to nothing. But for a little while after Julia died he still had enough left to think about getting the baby to Ken to make sure he wasn’t hurt. The military were coming in by that time after the raiders, but there were no medics there at that time. He was able to reason out that the baby would need to be fed and the only one that could do that was a woman that was already feeding a baby. He thought of the Crenshaws and after gathering up some of the baby’s things he started walking that direction as his own grey had run off.

About a mile after crossing some fields he saw a horse hung up in some bushes. It’s sides had been leathered and the reins hung to the ground. The saddle was cockeyed as well. The poor thing was too tired to do much more than skip to the side a little as Ron approached it. Then he recognized the horse. He’d traded it to …

Jonathon is dead. Somewhere between the farm and his cousin’s place he was shot once with a large gauge shotgun. Death would have been near instant but when his body fell from the saddle, one leg hung up and his body was drug … a long ways. There wasn’t much … forget it, this isn’t a memory I want to save anyway. Whoever reads this sometime a million years from now will just have to use whatever passes for an imagination then.

It was bad, so bad even in his state Ron puked. It was the sound of his being sick and the baby crying that brought him to the notice of one Henderson’s patrols. Ron wasn’t the only one that got sick. Mitch was called and a wagon was sent out. Jonathon’s remains were gathered and put in a long weapon crate so that the lid could be closed.

That is what sent Laurabeth over the edge. She’d been asking for Jonathon and was sure that despite everything he was safe. She dozed, recovering from her initial wound but must have woken up and heard the men quietly talking out in the yard. Somehow she made it downstairs and out to the wagon in the dark. Ron saw her and grabbed her just in time, all she saw was some bloody and tattered shirt material but that was enough. She started keening and …

During the night the shock – both physical and emotional – caused her to go into premature labor. The baby was small, smaller than even Ken thought it should be given when her due date was. The baby never even breathed once. Rand told me crying that it’s possible the baby was already dead before Laurabeth went into labor but no one is to know that. Only Uncle George, Ken, Rand, and now I do and we’ll take it to our graves. There is no need for Laurabeth to wonder about something like that when she is already as over the edge as she is.

Over a hundred people in the community are dead and that doesn’t count any raiders. No one knows for sure how many raiders were killed. At least forty but maybe more. Whole families were put into the same grave. All the graves were marked as best they could. Many new graves were opened in old church graveyards but just as many took place in back yards and fields. The bodies of the raiders were burned in a large pit; when the ashes cool they’ll be used to fertilize a community garden planned in memorial of the innocents who died.

We’ve been every day from sun up, leaving just in time to get home before sundown, trying to help people as best we can. Gardens need to be replanted. Houses need to be repaired. Meals need to be cooked. Animals need to be tended.

Most of Ron’s animals survived and they’ve been brought over to Uncle George’s. His feed silo suffered only minor damage and all of it has been combined with Uncle George’s for the time being. No one is quite sure what to do about Ron. See, a strange thing happened.

Last night Laurabeth heard baby Stevie … everyone calls Ron’s son by his middle name … crying. For a little while she thought it was her baby, she alternated periods of being lucid with periods of fantasy. Apparently whatever happened to ultimately cause Laurabeth’s baby to die, she had enough hormones in her system that the baby’s cries caused her milk to come in. She’d watched Missy and Alicia enough to know what needed to be done.

Missy was horrified when she went to get the baby and found Alicia feeding him but Marta who had been there helping said to leave her alone. She said it would be good for her body, help her uterus recover faster and to stop some of the bleeding, and it might help her mind as well. The only thing is that Laurabeth won’t let the baby out of her sight. Most of the time she knows that Stevie isn’t her baby but sometimes she doesn’t.

Everyone has been waiting for Ron to say something but the only thing he does is a few times a day he goes up to the room where Laurabeth is and sits and rocks the baby while Laurabeth sleeps. He hardly sleeps himself. The only time he is still is when he is rocking Stevie; otherwise he is working, doing anything that requires all of his physical strength and attention.

I’ve heard the whispers. They’re calling him cold – no one has seen him cry – or crazy; or worse they say he is both. I even heard that Lucretia woman, now a widow for the second time; that he got what he was coming to him after the hellion he’d been as a kid and young man. I walked from around a trough being used for laundry and smacked her across the face with a heavy, wet dirty diaper. I haven’t seen her around since and other folks have learned to step lightly when I’m around and the subject of family comes up.

I could, as easily as any of them, spend time saying Ron got what was coming to him. I’m hardly likely to forget the welcome they gave me when I was still new. But the problem is, I’ve walked in his shoes. I’ve lost everything – home and family – and been left in that twilight where grief doesn’t ever seem like it is going to end, in that place where the pain of never ending grief is more comforting than the possibility that it might one day end. There’s nothing I can say to him, not yet anyway. There aren’t any words that will make this better. But at least he has finally been able to cry.

Rand started watching me like a hawk. He’d heard about what I had done to Lucretia. I guess he figured I was just full up and that it was getting a bit much for me to handle. Ken was always watching as well. I couldn’t go near Laurabeth because the one time I tried she took one look at my big belly and started screaming at me to get out. It hurt but I can live with that. I said some pretty nasty things when my family died to people who didn’t deserve it. I know that isn’t Laurabeth talking but the pain.

I did manage to slip their leash twice. The first time was when I went snooping through the few things that Julia had managed to throw out the window and Ron had salvaged from the yard. That sounds awful but I had a purpose. The second time was when I basically cornered Ron in one of Uncle George’s small hay barns.

I handed Ron the one thing that I had taken out of the pathetic bundle of things left from his home. “Ron, don’t believe anyone who tells you this is going to be easy or that it will ever go away. They’re smoking dope. Don’t let anyone tell you that this is all your fault either. Sometimes bad things happen and there are so many layers of reasons that we just aren’t capable of understanding it all the way. God doesn’t do things to pay us back, he does things to bring us back.”

When I was sure I had his attention I continued, “I didn’t let anything help me for a long while. I forgot that the people I lost loved me, loved me enough that they wouldn’t have wanted me to be miserable, not even for their sake.” Then I handed him Julia’s Bible. “Out of all of the things she could have picked to save, Julia took the time to put this in with the baby’s things. There are some verses underlined in there, strange that the note beside the verses is in your handwriting and not hers. You know which ones I’m talking about?”

Ron’s voice was rusty but he finally answered, “Yeah. It’s those in I Thessalonians. I remember them from her mother’s funeral. She was crying and crying and crying. I didn’t know what else to do. At first nothing seemed to help and then … she read those verses at least once a day. Seemed like they were the only thing that would chirk her back up when she got in one of her moods. I never did understand it, I was just glad it worked.”

“Stop wondering why for a while … about everything. Just take what comfort those verses offer and let the rest wait a while.”

As I left I heard him sit down and flip some pages and then before I was too much further I heard the kind of painful cries that only a grown man can make.


February 25th – The services were as bad as I imagined they were going to be, at least for me. Other people seemed to find them comforting or cathartic or something. The thing that was different about this funeral was that there wasn’t a single person there that could look at someone else and say, “But you don’t know what I’ve been through. You don’t understand!”

Because we all did. The flu, bandits, raiders, hunger, disease, pain, suffering, grief unimagined … we’d all been there, every one of us.

I was going to go back tomorrow and help at the Crenshaws, help with the garden that needs tending and putting the harvested food up. But it looks like I’m not. Uncle George came to him and asked that I not come around for a while. Apparently Laurabeth said some pretty awful things last night. I think Uncle George is just trying to protect his daughter, maybe both of us, from any more hurt. Rand was furious but I told him not to be and he’s finally calmed down. I try to put myself in Laurabeth’s shoes and it hurts so much I nearly went into hysterics myself.


February 26th – How do you find normal after what we’ve been through? Rand says he’s going to give it one more day and then if Laurabeth keeps saying nasty things that he’ll just stay home from there on out, or at least stay away from the house for a while.

I also got in a bit of hot water with Rand about what I said to Ron. “How did you know he wasn’t going to go crazy and hurt you? You saw the way he was acting? You know what he is like?”

“I know what he used to be like. But to me he’s been changed longer than he was the way he used to be. I didn’t grow up knowing him Rand. When I look at Ron … he reminds me too much of the person I used to see in my mirror every day.”

That brought Rand up sharp. He sucked on his teeth for a while, obviously not wanting to let go of being upset but he finally said, “OK, I can see your point. But, please see mine too. I never would have thought Laurabeth could say the things she’s said to me the last few days. The only time she acts half way like her old self is when she is holding that baby.”

“That baby has a name. It’s Stevie. And none of this is that baby’s fault. I know you did your best to forgive Julia for what she did to you but you can’t be holding that against the baby?”

He sighed and said, “No. No I’m not. I’m sorry if you or anyone else thinks that. This whole situation … God!” He pulled his hair like it would hurt less than what was going through his head. “You want to know what I see when I look at Ron? Me. That’s what I see. I could have been him. I look at Laurabeth and I see you. I look at Stevie and I see Austin or our baby. I feel so bad … I just feel so bad … “

And then I realized Rand hadn’t taken the time to grieve and it was a while before either one of us could get up off the barn floor. Austin stood there for a while with his eyes shuttered and scared until Rand looked up and opened his arm and the kid ran over and crawled into our hug.

Maybe I am too young to be a wife, a mother … maybe young isn’t the only thing I’m too much of. But God put me here and I am a wife and a mother and I’m going to protect this the only way I know how … by giving it absolutely everything I have and then some. There may be people out there planning on trying to take it from me, from us, but they are going to have a fight on their hands. And it’s a fight I plan on winning, even if I have to fight the dirty.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 82

February 27th – True to his word, Rand won’t be going over to the Crenshaw farm for a while. It’s just too hard on him. He’ll go to the Shack or he’ll mow or plow to help his uncle out, but he won’t go to the house so long as Laurabeth is like she is.

Rand said she isn’t making much sense. For some reason she feels threatened by Rand and I, like we will take Stevie from her. Rand said she slapped Charlene when Charlene innocently reminded Laurabeth that Stevie wasn’t hers to begin with. Everyone was shocked, especially Laurabeth. I remember those moments, when you do something and then you begin to wonder if maybe other people aren’t right and you are about three fries short of a happy meal.

And everyone became even more shocked when Ron picked Stevie up and quietly walked out of the house with him. Laurabeth got hysterical and Uncle George went out after Ron and Rand said he could hear him trying to persuade Ron to bring the baby back to Laurabeth and that he’d be responsible for things.

“Babe, I was really surprised by Ron. It didn’t sound like the same guy I had known all these years; the old guy would have either made it all about him or throw a general hissy and make things worse, not stay calm and take his boy to safety. It gets even stranger. He told Uncle George that he’d bring Stevie back to Laurabeth once she calmed down but that Laurabeth had to be responsible and held accountable for her own actions. Stevie wasn’t a calf or chick he was his son and no matter how much he didn’t want to hurt Laurabeth and how much Stevie might need her as a wet nurse, if Laurabeth couldn’t control herself then Ron said he’d have to find some other way to take care of his son. Uncle George said that letting her get away with acting that way with no consequences wasn’t the way to help her.”

“What did Uncle George say to that?”

“What could he say? He knows that Laurabeth isn’t right.”

“Did you tell him you weren’t coming back to the house?”

“Not in so many words. I told him I’ll be back tomorrow to re-plow that field behind the back ten but that I was going to get there by cutting across Clyde’s piece.”

“And?”

“And what? He looked at me and nodded. Told me he’d be out there mid-morning to bring me some water.” Rand just shook his head, “Uncle George never played favorites but Laurabeth was always his girl. She was the good student, sweet, biddable, the whole nine yards. He even approved and liked Jonathon; counted on him being the balance for Brendon’s brashness. I feel bad for Laurabeth, we all do, but I’m worried that one of these days this is all going to be too much for Uncle George; he isn’t old, but he isn’t as young as he used to be either.”

Rand brought me a note from Concha as well.

Hermanita, Ramiro says to tell you that he knows you, and that the wheels must be turning in your head. He says if you think of some way he can help you must let him know. Mamma and Rubio said to count on them as well. And Missy says to tell you that she and Alicia do not share Laurabeth’s mania. If you need anything, their doors are always open. Senora Withrow sends her love as well. Concha

I admit it, I’m relieved. It also makes it easier to deal with the things Laurabeth said knowing that other people understand that she is going through a really bad time; gives me hope that maybe Laurabeth will re-think the way she feels and the family gets fixed some of the hurt that has happened.

Rand has agreed to take Austin with him when he goes to the Crenshaw farm so that Tommy … and Mick though he’s not able to do much … have some help in those everyday chores the boys are responsible for over there. In return Rand made me promise to stay around the home site and to lock the doors up tight when I was inside and not to lift anything heavy, blah, blah, blah. I agreed though it stuck in my craw to do it; I know showing as much as I do now only makes Rand feel guilty about not being there for me all the time; he is, just not there in person.

The peace and alone time has actually been helping me get my head back on straight. Two weeks of too many people and it’s no wonder Rand and Ken were waiting for the explosion. I came pretty close more than once. My tolerance was getting all used up. That may sound bad but it is what it is. Me and people mix about as well as oil and vinegar sometimes.

Speaking of oil and vinegar as bad as things have been I can’t help but be comforted by the state our garden is in. The extra mulch helped since I haven’t been able to weed as much and it kept the plants up out of the muddy sand during the rains. Rand never did get a chance to dig out the far corner of the garden where it is mostly clay but we don’t have anything planted there right now. He did have to dig a trench to keep the water from standing over there but it worked and nothing in the kitchen garden drowned.

I wish I could say the same for the grain fields. We lost a full quarter of one rye field and about a fifth of the field of oats. The small field of wheat looks OK except for a small section that laid over during a bad wind storm and got stuck in the damp ground. Rand isn’t happy but he isn’t crying about it either. “Babe, when a farmer can say he didn’t lose everything he is having a good day because he still has more than he started with.” I wrote that down and stuck it to the bathroom mirror. That’s a good thought to start the day with. Be satisfied with what gain you get.

Our recent gains from the garden have been a constant supply of lettuce (mostly looseleaf), greens, radishes, spinach, turnips, Chinese cabbage, beets, broccoli, broccoli raab, kale, and carrots. It wasn’t that long ago that it seems that I could wait for fresh greens and now here I am wondering if any will be going to waste. There isn’t a day goes by that we don’t have some type of salad. Sometimes I feel like a goat or a cow and just want to sit and graze all day long.

Today I pulled the first of the carrots. I think they look better than the first ones I grew last year. They are thicker and I haven’t pulled any yet that look deformed though I did have one that looked like a cow udder with two teats on it. Rand says that happens on occasion, like a seed will try to put down two tap roots. I say it looks funny, and when I cut it to see what it looked like on the inside it was kind of dry and pithy. That one was cut up and used as treats for the animals.

I scrubbed and sliced a bunch of carrots for the dehydrator; put them in there with some broccoli and a few other things I’m trying to dry. I needed to use up the rest of those dried apricots before they get really nasty so I used a bunch to make Apricot Carrot Cake.

While you are preheating your oven to 350 degrees F, in a large mixing bowl combine one and three-quarters cup of flour, one teaspoon of baking powder, one-quarter teaspoon of baking soda and one-quarter teaspoon of salt. In a medium size bowl combine one beaten egg, one-half cup of sugar, one-half cup of apple sauce, one-half cup of shredded carrots, and two tablespoons of vegetable oil. Add all this at once to the dry ingredients and stir it just this once until everything is just moistened. The batter is really thick. Next fold in one-third cup of chopped dried apricots and then pour the batter into a prepared and greased loaf pan and bake 45 to 60 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the bread comes out clean. Remove from oven and let cool. Wrap loaf and store overnight before slicing. The next day you can make a frosting for the caking by mixing one-half cup of powdered sugar and two teaspoons of apple juice. I’m still debating; my powdered sugar supply isn’t exactly limitless and I might need it for something else.

The rest of the bushel of carrots was enough to fill a pressure canner full of jars. I still have some jars left over from last season so I’m putting the new stuff behind the old so that last season’s jars get used first. I wonder how I’m going to label jars when I run out of permanent marker? I’ve still got several but they aren’t going to last forever. Color coding somehow?

My next crop of carrots should be much bigger and I’ll start canning other stuff like carrot jam or mixed carrots and peas. I’m glad all I had to mess with today was carrots because every spare second I’ve been going over some new plans in my head. When I talked to Rand about some of it he agreed but he was almost too tired for us to go into details. I’ll try and work out some of the kinks in the plan and then bring it up again. But now, since the last of the jars are ready to come out of the canner, I’m going to bed. Tomorrow is the first of March and we plan on planting the larger veggie field that Rand plowed for us and there are a couple of places in the existing garden that need cultivating.


March 2nd – Rand told me last night that he had a heart to heart with Uncle George and that Uncle George understands why Rand didn’t want to get around the house. Everyone hopes that Laurabeth can get through her grief, or at least get to a point where she isn’t attacking Rand and I because we still have each other and the baby. He told me that Ron also came out to the field for a while.

“He looks bad, I mean really bad. I don’t think he is sleeping too well when he sleeps at all. He brought his son and it just … it was just weird. Kid looks just like him. Laurabeth was pitching some fit or other and Ron just upped and walked off with him to get him away from it. I’m not sure that is the best way to handle Laurabeth or not, seems kind of mean. On the other hand … I don’t know Babe, this … all of it … I’m trying to be sympathetic and not make things worse but I just don’t know what to do.”

“Don’t look at me, I’m no psychologist I just had to listen to several quack at me for a couple of years. But sometimes too much sympathy can turn into pity and that can be worse than none at all. I guess we just go on being as … as … as kind as we can I guess you might call it and giver Laurabeth time. But time doesn’t heal all wounds no matter what they say. Some you only learn to cope with; they never really go away.”

Thinking about how to deal with Laurabeth has reminded me of my own life and the distractions I used to keep myself from really learning to deal with my own emotional pain. First I used my physical pain; I didn’t exactly come through the accident unscathed. Then came the adjustment in Aunt Wilma and Uncle Charlie’s home and all of the emotional baggage that the other foster kids carried around with them. Then there was school, debate team, and work. Of course the world falling apart pretty much gave me something else to use as an excuse too.

One year ago I was in the warehouse and making plans to escape. Things were starting to really crumble around the edges and food was getting scarce. I can’t believe how different my life today is from my life then. It sure doesn’t resemble anything that I imagined. In fact, had you told me what my life would have been like I probably would have called you a liar … maybe even slugged you for messing with me so bad.

I never would have imagined the joy … and pain … that was coming my way. And listen to me? Sounding so introspective. How bizarre is that?

Is it selfish to be happy? To be finally and truly happy even with things so messed up? So many people are in pieces all around us. Take Mitch Peters for example. Cassie came by today with her grandfather and while Rand and Mr. Henderson talked she pulled me off to the side.

“Kiri, I know we haven’t always gotten along but … look, it is kind of late to be saying this but … you and Julia … you did a good thing, being able to let it go … you know … what she did and some of the things she said. It took me a while but I finally saw that Julia really wasn’t happy. I started seeing it but it was too late for me to do anything about it, if I ever good have in the first place.”

I figured Cassie was out to soften me up for some reason and I wasn’t too keen on taking the bait. “Um, not sure what … “

“Julia was trying to make herself be … I don’t know … her ideal of what a wife and mother was supposed to be. And she wasn’t ready for it. Ron tried but … he tried to do the right thing but it just wasn’t working. Julia wanted him to be romantically in love with her, she needed that admiration and all the touchy feely stuff that goes with it and that just wasn’t happening. It might have if she would have just been herself but … oh never mind. I’m not saying it right. Look, I need to ask you something.”

Yep, she needed something but it wasn’t as bad as I had thought. “Uh, OK. I guess,”

“How do you help Rand when he is … you know … really in a funk, blaming himself for stuff even when he couldn’t have … “

I stopped her. Sometimes you just have to. I swear I don’t understand half the things she says three-quarters of the time. “Cassie, I don’t want to be nosy but you gotta give me more to work with. I don’t need to know the dirty details but … is your grandfather OK?”

“It’s not Poppy. And even if it was Abuela can handle him. It’s Mitch. He had the whole operation on his shoulders when the raiders hit. Poppy was a lot sicker than we let anyone know. You can see how much weight he has lost. He got sick with something that tried to go down to his chest and things got scary. He was pretty out of it for a while and then so weak that he couldn’t have held a gun much less gotten on a horse. Mitch was doing everything he could to protect the ranch and keep things together there. One of Poppy’s cousins … the one that runs the cattle operation … just doesn’t want to listen to Mitch, doesn’t want to accept that Poppy is grooming Mitch to take over. He gives Mitch grief every chance he gets. He thinks it is making Mitch a better leader if he doesn’t always have things his way but this time it backfired. Mitch was trying to fix a problem on the ranch instead of in the communication center keeping up with the patrols. By the time everyone figured out what was going on and Mitch got to the radio we’d already lost touch with four patrols and we could only react and work around the military and try and keep our own people safe. This has really shaken Mitch’s confidence.”

“What does your grandfather say?”

Cassie said defensively, “He doesn’t blame Mitch. Of course he doesn’t. No one on the ranch does though some folks out in the community have been talking.”

Trying to calm her down I told her, “Yeah, some people will always talk. They want to blame someone, anyone for the hurt they are feeling.”

“Poppy told Mitch basically the same thing but Mitch … I don’t know Kiri, I’m worried. I’ve never seen him like this.”

I tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make me sound like a know it all but I wasn’t having a lot of luck so I fell back on telling her that I’d learned this from my father. “Cassie, you know my dad was in the military right? Well, one of the things we used to do was watch old war flicks and cowboy movies and documentaries about that kind of stuff. I used to ask him why he thought different people became good leaders and others became bad ones. One of the things he used to tell me was that responsibility changes people and the more responsibilities the more changes … sometimes good and sometimes not. Mitch isn’t really that much older than us; he’s what twenty-five or so?”

“Yeah, around that.”

“So put yourself in his shoes. The ranch is a lot to deal with … trying to fill your grandfather’s boots is probably worse. And then something this big happens and it is so bad … Mitch is probably second guessing himself to Hades.”

“Yeah … yeah, pretty much. So what do you do? For Rand I mean … I know he can be moody and stuff.”

“Moody? No, that’s my gig. But Rand can be hard on himself if that’s what you mean. Sometimes all you can do is be there and don’t let them take the self-loathing too far. You can be kind to people but you can’t save them from themselves. Some of this will be what shows whether Mitch really is a good pick to take over the ranch when it gets to be too much for your grandfather. He has to learn to take some blows so that he can be stronger when he needs to be. He needs to understand that there will always be thing beyond his control. If he can’t he’s just going to drive himself crazy and become so cautious that he isn’t an effective leader.”

I’m not sure what she was expecting me to say. Mitch isn’t Rand and vice versa. I mean I know Mitch but not in a best bud kind of way. I told her to talk to Tia Cia and see if she had some idea of what to do; she would be closer to the situation.

After they left Rand, Austin, and I were able to finish getting all the seeds in the ground we wanted to. See, expanding the garden had already been in the works but Rand and I decided as part of our new plan to go the extra mile to plant an even larger garden. That means we are using up all the extra space that Rand has already plowed and between now and the beginning of April he will plow at least one more garden field. I have plenty of seed because I saved so much from last season. Today we planted bush beans, pole beans, lima beans, cantaloupes, carrots, collard greens, sweet corn, cucumbers, eggplant, endive, lettuce, romaine, kohlrabi, mustard greens, okra, green onions, English peas, black eyed peas, peppers, potatoes, sweet potatoes, pumpkins, radish, summer squash, winter squash, tomatoes, turnips, and watermelon.

Unless something goes terribly wrong I expect even after preserving everything we need for our own consumption we’ll have enough to barter for stuff we don’t have. If I don’t barter the stuff fresh then I’ll dry it and have it to barter during the off-season when food gets scarcer or to make my mixes with. The garden scraps will go towards feeding our expanding flocks and herds. I hope to have enough chickens in a few months that I can have chicken on at least one or two Sundays every month. I also plan on trying my hand at hard cheeses now that the cows are giving more milk again with a better milking schedule, assuming it can be done. The nannies will also be ready for milking once their kids are here or there abouts.

Plans, plans, plans. At least we have plans. But they are plans with a purpose. I’m tired of life happening to us. I mean I am just flaming tired of it. When there was only Rand and I we got by. Now there is Austin and this baby coming and I’m done sitting back and waiting. I know I can’t control everything. I know that I’m going to have to go through stuff as God sees fit … to teach me a lesson or to strengthen me or to prepare me for something else that is coming down the road … but there is no sense to sit around doing nothing to prepare. God created man so that he would happen to the world not so that we could sit around waiting for the world to happen to us.


March 3rd – Rand went early this morning to pick up the new stuff for the larger cooler. We still owe a little bit on it but Rand said that Mr. Coffey asked us to pay him in sewing. Not having any women folk over there seems to be creating a few problems for them. They can do all sorts of manly stuff but sewing up the seat of a pair of britches or putting a new zipper in seems to be beyond them. So today in between baking I’ve been using the treadle to repair two huge duffle bags of clothes.

First I had to wash them … I don’t think they’d been doing much but boiling them to loosen the dirt and then rinsing them out and hanging them to hard dry. The water was fairly disgusting but I’m happy to say that I was able to wash the clothes outside. Rand finally hooked the PVC pipe from the passive solar water tanks on the barn and ran the pipe down to a spigot with a hose that I can used to fill a heavy duty plastic barrel. The set up looks real similar to barrel composters that Rand built for me but instead of being hand-cranked this one has a belt that is hooked up to an exercise bike. I do the laundry by peddling, the peddling turns the belt, the belt turns the gears, the gears turn the barrel. The clothes are beat as they get tossed around in the barrel; it actually uses less water to wash them this way than when I was stomping on them in the bathtub.

It is still a lot of work but nowhere near as much as when I did them in the bathtub. I don’t have to worry about slipping and falling down either. And Austin and Rand can also help with the laundry this way. Austin took turns with me working the peddles. Thank goodness the seat on the bike is wide and padded, I don’t think I’m in the shape I was a few months back and the idea of trying to ride and skinny seat the way I did all the way from Tampa gives me the heebie jeebies.

As a matter of fact I’m almost too tired to write any more; not shaky tired but pretty close. I managed to finish up all of the Coffey’s clothes and we’ll deliver them tomorrow at the swap meet. I also have all of the pre-orders made for Missy. And on top of that I managed to throw some mixes together over the last couple of days. Having Austin around to help Rand is actually helping me. ‘Course by the end of the day I’m so tired I just about can’t stand myself but it isn’t as bad as it could be.

One of the things that I made up is Creamy Wild Rice Soup. This is another “just add water” that should really work and it mostly uses stuff that we can spare without any problems. You put an envelope of powdered country gravy mix together with one tablespoon chicken bouillon granules, two teaspoons dried minced onion, two teaspoons dried celery flakes, one-quarter cup uncooked wild rice, one cup uncooked white rice, and two tablespoons coarsely chopped dried mushrooms. Mix all of that together and then the directions are to add seven cups of water and bring it to a boil. Put a lid on your pot and simmer everything for about twenty-five minutes or until the rice is cooked.

The other thing I made was some molasses mustard. The only reason I even thought to make this is because Mr. Coffey sent some beer he brewed home with Rand. See, Rand is pretty careful with stuff like that because he used to let it get out of hand and the “bottle” of beer was one of those ginormous ones called a growler. It was really dark beer and Rand drank it to be sociable with a customer but he couldn’t finish it. He brought it home and was going to feed it to Taz.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Pig might get a little tipsy but it won’t hurt him Babe.”

“I don’t care about the stupid pig I meant don’t you dare waste it. I can use it to make beer bread and save on my yeast.”

“Beer … bread?”

“Yeah. It’s something we would make at the diner. You take three cups of self-rising bread … only we don’t have self-rising so I’ll have to add baking powder and salt … and then add a can of beer. Then you just mix and bake. Bread rises perfect because there is yeast in the beer.”

“I’ve heard of everything now. Beer bread. What won’t you come up with?”

“Yeah, well, I could have made drunk biscuits but the beer bread will go further and last longer.”

Rand just shook his head and laughed and gave me the still have full bottle but told me he needed to return the bottle to Mr. Coffey. There was enough beer in the bottle to make two loaves of bread and enough left after that I made a couple of small plastic containers of molasses mustard.

I took a cup of dried powdered mustard. I have plenty of it because it seems everyone had some in their cabinets and Momma was real fond of the stuff. She made most of our mustards from scratch as Daddy was kind of particular about his condiments. Who wouldn’t be with the way Momma could cook?

To the powdered mustard I added eight tablespoons of beer, four tablespoons of molasses, four tablespoons of cider vinegar, one-half teaspoon of ground cinnamon, one-half teaspoon of ground allspice, one-half teaspoon of ground pepper, and one-quarter teaspoon of ground cloves. Mix this all up really well, put it in an airtight container, and then let it sit for twenty-four hours to mellow. The best thing is that this doesn’t need refrigeration.

Everything is in boxes over by the front door waiting for tomorrow. We don’t plan on being there all day. Rand wants to get over there, check everything out quickly, and then head on home after lunch or earlier. I’ve got a picnic lunch planned just in case. I’m not sure who we’ll see at the swap meet tomorrow. I hope to see Mrs. Withrow or maybe Momma O. I wouldn’t mind seeing Alicia or Missy but I doubt I will what with everything that has been happening. I guess the babies would be too young anyway and they wouldn’t want to leave them. I might see Ram and Concha but who knows with everything over there being at sixes and sevens; I’m only guessing that Bill will have a trailer at the swap meet the way they did before.

The person I hope I don’t see is that SueLinda chick. I’m not jealous; I’m not. But I’ll be honest and admit it here in my journal that I’m feeling a little defensive. I’ve heard she is a beautiful woman. My mirror doesn’t lie, I’m more than a little rough around the edges; and fat, let’s not forget fat. So tomorrow I’m going to do something stupid; I’m wearing the high-waisted skirt that I made and one of the pretty tunic shirts that Missy sent over. I still have to wear socks and my work boots – I’m not going to make a complete fool of myself – but at least I won’t look like a rodeo clown. I’m also going to let my pony tail down. What is it that Daddy always said during football season? Oh yeah … “The best defense is a good offense.” Works for me.
 

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 83A

March 8th – It’s been a retched few days. A mole hill that turned into a mountain and yet more of our fears realized. It started out innocently enough though, wish it could have continued that way.

You know, there are days that just make me wonder. It can only be my luck that the one day I decide to wear a skirt would just happen to be one of the windiest days we’ve seen in a long time. It wasn’t constant; it was more one of those tricky winds. You’d have everything battened down and laid out and then WHOOSH! And let me tell you, I did not look like that old poster of Marilyn Monroe. I’m not sure what I looked like but I felt really silly … and irritated … and embarrassed.

I knew when we got up on Saturday that it was breezy. It wasn’t cold thank goodness but it was cool enough that I made sure everyone had a jacket and I threw three ponchos and a collapsible umbrella in the picnic basket in case it decided to rain. No biggie really. What I hadn’t bargained for is that the trees surrounding the home site protected us from the worst of it; by the time we got to the end of the road we’d had to stop twice. Finally Rand and Austin sat on their hats rather than wear them and I’d had to sit the picnic basket on top of mine to keep it from blowing away. I also laid the picnic blanket across the hay to keep it from blowing in my face.

When we got to the park it was still pretty early and not too many people were out and about. Those that were setting up tables were busy doing that and there wasn’t too many folks just wandering around. Lucky for me. Rand having to help haul me out of the wagon bed while I tried to hold onto my dignity couldn’t have been a pretty sight. I had to give up just jumping out of the wagon a while back. But was I to be spared completely? Of course not.

“Oh Rand! You didn’t hurt your back did you? You should have gotten a couple of other men to help you.”

Not recognizing the voice but feeling that my luck was pretty well holding true to form I turned to find this gorgeous blonde woman standing by Rand, holding his arm, and giving him a concerned yet conspiratorial look. Rand’s face on the other hand had turned to granite.

I sighed and said, “Let me guess, SueLinda Adcock?”

She looked a little surprised but recovered almost too quick for me to have seen it. “Why yes. Rand … mentioned me?” Boy did she do coy well.

“Of course.”

“Surely he didn’t tell you … well … I mean…everything,” and then she opened her eyes real wide.

“Actually I heard about you from other people. By the way, you do that really well.”

“Excuse me?” I’d caught her off guard. Point for me.

“Oh the … what do you call it? The butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth look while trying to look guilty for something that you didn’t do,” I told her with a condescending laugh. I perfected the rebuttal technique when I had to have too much to do with certain girls at my highschool.

“Oh, well, you can think what you want if it makes you feel better,” she said with a condescending smile of her own.

I laughed out loud at that like she was just too cute and I was having fun sparing with her and then shot back, “Now really, aren’t you a little old to be playing games like this? Face it, Rand is the one-that-got-away. Why you should care I don’t even know. From the sound of things you’ve already got so many notches in your headboard that it is mostly just a toothpick these days.”

That hit the target but wasn’t anywhere near a bulls eye; still, I had forced her to drop the smile and glare at me with a bit of a snarl. I pressed the little advantage I had and said in my best fake-helpful voice, “I’d watch that if I were you Sweety. You’ll cake your make up in those creases and your wrinkles will show up even more.”

If she could make comments about my weight I figured I was free to make comments about her age. Thing is I hadn’t realized it but we had more of an audience than I had intended and several of the people were trying real hard not to laugh; but not Missy who surprised me by being there. She bellowed out a loud laugh and said, “Score!” Then she turned to SueLinda and I realized that maybe those two had met before. “Hi Suelee. Been hearing lots of … real interesting … hmmm … stuff … from up and down the river. You are making quite a reputation for yourself. But then again you always did seem to enjoying flaunting your … advertising degree. Heard you are doing pretty well selling your … hmmm … puppies. Might not find people quite as gullible around here though. They like to … well, get more for their money if you know what I mean. We don’t need or want your ‘girls and gambling’ flotilla.”

After that Miss Adcock stalked off causing her well padded rear bumper to swish in the tight jeans she was wearing. You could hear them go scritch-scritch-scritch-scritch as she stomped away. Missy had really hit the bulls eye and then some; I hope she doesn’t have any trouble over it. I later found out – bad, bad Kiri for listening to gossip – that Missy hadn’t been exaggerating. I mean I know there are women out there like that but to me that kind of life would create more problems than it would solve, not to mention it seems just plain gross. I had enough trouble getting comfortable with Rand in the beginning; I just can’t imagine trying to deal with what amounts to a whole herd of guys. Why would you even want to? One is enough trouble and responsibility.

Poor Rand; looking back and forth between Missy and me I thought he was going to have a coronary right there. He was breathing hard like one of Uncle George’s bulls right before they charge. I looked at Missy and Missy looked at me and we were both trying so hard not to smile that we wound up laughing. Poor Rand. He popped his cap out of his back pocket tugged it down over his head, crossed his arms and said, “Dang it!” That only made it worse. Looking back if I had known what it would cause I would have kept my mouth shut but as seems to happen from time to time my mouth got way out in front of my brain.

Austin was just standing there, looking back and forth at us, trying to figure out what was going on. Rand wasn’t really angry but he was uncomfortable. I tried really hard to get myself under control; Rand finally gave up and just shook his head. “Missy, please don’t drag Kiri into one of your feuds.”

Missy got this real innocent look on her face and said, “A feud. Who? Me? I just thought I’d help things along a bit although Kiri did sound like she was doing fine on her ownsome.”

“Missy … “ Rand growled warningly.

Missy winked and then went to where Bill was standing there holding the baby. Bill was smiling and kissed the top of Missy’s head before handing the baby over and picking up a laundry basket of odds and ends. I thought no time like the present so I sang out, “Oh Bill, you dropped this one.”

He was looking around trying to figure out what he had dropped when I put the bag with the pre-orders I had made as well as the mixes on top of what he had in his arms. “Hmmm. Dropped this did I? Thanks. I’m sure Missy would have had my head if I’d somehow misplaced this stuff.” Bill just smiled and nodded at Rand who all but groaned in frustration at Missy’s teasing.

With that they went off towards their trailer to unlock it and finish setting up. I went over to Rand who was still grumping. About the second I had opened my mouth to say something a gust of breeze came and flipped my skirt up a bit. It’s not that it flipped the skirt up very high – I didn’t flash anyone – but there was just enough cool in the breeze that it tickled places that weren’t used to being uncovered very often and I squealed just a bit.

Of course that made Rand laugh and put him back in a good mood. “Serves you right. Bill might be able to live with Missy’s brand of crazy but I don’t know how he does it and still keeps his hair.” Then he took a breath and said real serious, “I wish you’d stay away from SueLinda. No, I’m not worried about you believing her … thank you for trusting me … it’s that she can be a real piece of work and right now … you know … the baby and all …”

“I won’t go out of my way to antagonize her if that is what you are worried about despite the way I just acted, but I’m not going to just turn tail every time I see her either. You’re my husband, this is our home, our community, and I’m not going to let her rule it just because she comes to town on occasion. Maybe I could have acted a little more … ummm … gracious. OK, no maybes about it, I could have acted a whole lot less catty; I just got carried away. But I refuse to be pushed into a corner by the likes of her. Period.”

Rand just snorted, “Between you and Missy it isn’t likely that she’ll have the chance to rule around here. Just don’t antagonize her. She can be vengeful.”

“I imagine she can. Girls like her are used to getting their way and don’t like it much when they don’t. Although I would have thought she had outgrown those kind of games at her age. And is Missy serious? SueLinda is a … whatchamacallit … a madam? And she has girls on boats?”

Rand just went “Mmmm” and then nodded at Gator and Junior – two of Mr. Henderson’s men – who were watching our “parking lot” for trouble makers and horse thieves. I grabbed my basket that I had some knitted socks and some seeds in for trade from the back of the wagon and followed Rand and Austin as they headed into the roped off area being used for tables.

Rand slowed down so that we were side by side while Austin walked ahead heading towards where he saw Tommy. He said quietly, “Babe, I know this is going to sound unfair but … look, I know SueLinda can be a pain and I know that it sits bad with you to ignore someone that is intentionally baiting you but I’m asking you to ignore her the best you can. She’s going to try and draw you into a fight with her now that she thinks she can. She’s just that kind of person and good at twisting and turning things to make herself look good. We don’t need any more trouble, not here at the swap meets. So please, just … you know what I’m trying to say, right?”

“Yeah, and you’re right, it isn’t fair.”

“Babe … “

“Let me finish. It isn’t fair and it isn’t what I’d do if I could get away with it. But I’m not stupid and I know we do need the contacts and stuff from these swap meets and that we don’t need any more trouble … at least not outright.”

A little cautiously Rand said, “Then you understand.”

“I understand that you aren’t saying it to hurt my feelings. I don’t agree with letting her get away with being the way she is and doing the things she is doing but like Momma always said, there is more than one way to skin a cat.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that little Miss Thang is going to find out that the weather might be warming up but if she tries to pull her stuff around here she is going to be experiencing winter weather year round. Missy and I can’t be the only females around here that don’t want that kind of crud around.”

Rand got the hint. He dropped it and steered clear of the topic after that. That settled I looked around as we walked. You could see right away that there were a lot of non-locals mixed up with the people we knew, but they were a different flavor than we’d had at the last swap meet. These folks were just like us, just wanting to do a little business in peace. There was even an area set aside for adult beverages again but it was roped off and set well away from the main circle of tables and trailers and it was a different crowd from the ones that had been doing it last time. They had tables and benches set up and they were also selling food. Looked more like an abarroteria or a bodega or even a tienda, like a small store that sells food you can eat there and a beer to wash it down with. The smells coming from their cooking area were so good and reminded me of the truck vendors you’d see around Tampa.

Rand pointed to where Clyde set up his trailer. “Brendon’s here and I see Austin has found Tommy. Do you see Uncle George anywhere?”

I told him I didn’t so we made our way over to the trailer, said hello, and found out that Uncle George was staying home to keep an eye on things. “Dad is tired. I mean really tired. It wasn’t that hard to talk him into staying home so he could whittle some wooden pegs for an extension we are putting onto the hay barn. That’ll keep him sitting in one spot for a while anyway. Alicia and Melly are home watching the kids and Ron is there to keep an eye on things too.”

Rand got a worried look on his face but it cleared up when Clyde said, “We’ve started a neighborhood patrol. It’s nothing like Henderson has … yet … but we are looking at a couple of the younger couples spreading out into the empty houses that are still standing and in good repair. We’re going to start pulling down everything else so there is less for raiders to hide in or take over. More control for us that way too, not just anyone will be able to move in. If you’ve got the time maybe you could help with those big mules of yours.”

“Pulling down the houses?”

“No. We are going to salvage everything we can, even the concrete blocks and chunks of broken concrete for walls. What we need is something or someone to grade the area after we’ve pulled the houses down. You think your team is up to it?”

“I’d have to see each location to tell you for sure but mostly likely yes so long as all of the debris has been picked out and the ground reasonably tamped down.”

“Good deal Lucille … that’s what I wanted to hear. I’ll relay the message and we’ll work out a trade for the work.”

While Rand and Clyde nattered on about some ammo and junk, I asked Brendon how Alicia was doing. For the first time I saw him perk up like life was worth living. Brendon likes being a Daddy, hates changing diapers, and hates to be puked on even worse but wouldn’t trade his wife and son for anything. I’m glad for him. I wanted to ask about Laurabeth but didn’t know how to start and Brendon kept talking around her like he wanted to avoid the subject so I let it go.

Rand is a popular guy, whether it’s for his personality or for the mules depends on who you are talking to, either way it wasn’t long before we weren’t moving at all. I don’t do the little quiet wifey thing well but didn’t want to interrupt or side track the business he was conducting so I just kept moving slowly around the tables making notes of things as I passed them (and trying to keep my skirt from doing a Marilyn Monroe). I didn’t get far before Tommy and Austin came to flank me on either side.

“Let me guess, Rand noticed I slipped my leash.”

Both boys laughed … but they didn’t leave my side until I’d made my first circuit of all the tables. Coming abreast of Rand again I pushed them back in Rand’s direction to tell him that I was fine and staying out of trouble and that I didn’t need a babysitter.

Not five minutes later as I was in the middle of talking to a lady that has turned her hobby of spinning and weaving into a lucrative trade Rand was there beside me. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m sure I deserve a little of it but having him acting like I was going to talk out of both sides of my mouth by telling him I would be careful and behave and then acting the exact opposite was beginning to get on my nerves real fast. He expected me to just trust his word that there was nothing between him and SueLinda but he wasn’t trusting mine that I wasn’t going to cause trouble.

“Forget it. I’m just going to go sit in the wagon.”

“Why? Aren’t you feeling OK? Do I need to find Ken?”

“I’m fine.”

“Then did someone say something to upset you?”

“Rand … ,” Then I stopped. I realized that the middle of the swap meet wasn’t any place to have the conversation. “Never mind. I’m going to go sit in the wagon.”

“Hey. Wait! What’s going on?”

“If I go to the wagon and sit then you can conduct your business.”

“What has my business got to do with anything?” Rand asked as I continued to thread my way through the crowd to get back to swap meet entrance.

“If I’m walking around you can’t do your business. If I’m standing next to you the men don’t feel free to talk so you can’t do your business. Lose-lose. I’m just going back to the wagon assuming of course you think that I can sit there without getting into trouble. Gator and Junior will be there.”

“What the …?” Rand started but several men intercepted him and I just kept walking until I got to the wagon. Getting in was a bit of a trip but I made it and then got as comfortable as my snit would let me. Good thing that I had stuck a pencil and notepad in my basket or I would have been bored out of my skull on top of being angry; never a good combination for me, in fact one to be avoided at all cost. I was working steadily, making plans for what was due to be ready to harvest in the next couple of weeks, when Lucretia Gilkins came to the side of the wagon and got in my face.

For some reason at that very moment I had a memory come back as clear as if I was experiencing it there. I remember my great grandmother warning us kids to be careful what I prayed for or we just might get it. She said, “Virtues are like muscles; to develop them you have to exercise them and train them. When you pray for a particular virtue, don’t be surprised when God sends you into situations where you have to use that virtue you want so bad.”

I had prayed for patience, which I’m sadly lacking. I know I need it for Austin and the baby. My mom seemed to have an endless supply of the stuff and I want to be like that for my kid. And what does God do? He puts me where I have to learn to use patience more than I want to. I guess kind of like practice makes perfect.

“So, he finally wised up to what an embarrassment you are and sent you to the wagon to get you out from under foot,” she said with a nasty sneer.

Boy did I want to unload on her but instead I just ignored her, tuned her out and concentrated on my work. Eventually she left. I don’t know how long it was after that, probably about thirty minutes, Rand comes stomping out to the wagon. “Where in the Sam Hill do you get off telling Lucretia that I sent you to the wagon?! I … “

“Excuse me? I didn’t say a word to that woman and two where do you get off assuming I’d do anything like that in the first place?”

I gave him ice face. I don’t know if I’d ever done that to him before but I know it hadn’t been often if I had ‘cause he pulled back real fast. “Oh. Then why would she be saying … “

“Why would I know why that woman does anything? I’m sitting her minding my own business. She came over and tried to start trouble and I ignored her exactly how I promised you I would. End of story. What she did or said after she left here is beyond my control.”

“You didn’t say anything to her?”

“Isn’t that what I just said? Just go on back in and do your business. I’m fine where I’m at. If you don’t believe that I’ve been behaving go ask Gator and Junior, they’ve been eyeballing me the entire time I’ve been out here.”

“And what is that supposed to mean? That if I don’t believe you?”

“Just what I said.”

“No, it means something else, I can tell.”

“Rand, I’m not fighting about this. I’m not causing a scene. You said you wanted me to behave and I agreed to behave and that is all there is to it.”

“Then why are you out here?”

“Because regardless of what is coming out of your mouth your actions are saying the exact opposite. Just like with Lucretia, you automatically assumed that I was the one at fault for whatever ruckus she is creating. I promised that I wouldn’t cause a scene but you still thought you better dog my heels, first with the boys and then you did it yourself. You said that we need the contacts here at the swap meets, the work that you can generate, and I agree with you. But you can’t do it if you feel you have to dog me all the time so I decided it was just better to go to the wagon. You’ve made your opinion perfectly clear and this is my response. The end … and I’m not discussing it anymore.”

“Kiri … “

“I mean it Rand, I’m not talking about it. I’m done.”

Now he was mad but at the time I didn’t care. “Fine. Be that way. Act like a spoiled brat. Thanks for making my day so much less stressful.”

He left and I stayed exactly where I had been and things finally quieted back down so that I could go back to planning though I felt even less like doing it than before.

“Well at least you aren’t a cry baby. Julia always turned into a sprinkler system to get her way.”

I jumped as I hadn’t heard Missy come up. “Don’t start Missy.”

“Wasn’t going to, sometimes a girl has got to stand her ground. But if you were asking my advice, not that you are, I would let Rand apologize as soon as he figures out what a donkey’s backside he is being.”

“He doesn’t need to apologize. He’s entitled to his opinion just as much as I’m entitled to mine.”

“Wrong. Not about the opinion part but about him not needing to apologize. If you let him start thinking that he doesn’t need to apologize for stuff then pretty soon he won’t think he needs to apologize for stuff.”

More than a little irritated I asked her, “Missy, why do you think this is any of your business?”

She laughed, “You know, one of the reasons I’ve liked you from the start is because there isn’t much back up in you. You look like this sweet and innocent little thing but then you open your mouth. Look, Rand will figure it out. And if he doesn’t you can explain it to him. Don’t let this fester, it’s not worth it and Rand needs to know that he hurt your feelings.”

“And why would you think he hurt my feelings? Did I say he did? Did I say anything to anyone?”

“Let’s put it this way … been there, done that. Not with Bill but with someone else. I tried to be all that guy wanted me to be instead of being what I wanted to be. Compromise is good … giving in all the time isn’t.”

“Missy … “

“Look, I get it. And Rand isn’t stupid he’ll get it too … eventually.”

“Fine. Whatever. Did the pre-orders fit? Did they all get picked up?”

“OK, we’ll change the subject, just remember what I said. Yeah, everything fit and I have another dozen orders. Those soup mixes you make are a hit as well. Everyone keeps asking where the stuff is coming from. Sure you don’t want me to say anything?”

“No, absolutely not. More notoriety I don’t need.”

Just then Bill came up. “Hey beautiful, sorry I kept you waiting. You ready to go let Concha and Marta take a break?”

“Yup … see you later Kiri. And remember what I said.”

The morning passed with me determinedly working on my notes and trying to forget about everything else and then with the sound like a herd of elephants a bunch of boys led by Austin and Tommy ran up to the wagon. Luckily the mules are used to ruckus and the boys were smart enough to avoid getting too close to them.

“Kiri, can I take my lunch and go eat under that tree with Tommy? Please? Leo Jones found a snake and his dad said he could take it home.”

“A snake?!”

“Easy Babe, it’s just an old grass snake. Leo’s dad was with animal control and checked it out first.” Rand wasn’t far behind the boys. In fact a lot of people had started coming out to their wagons to have their own picnics.

Why Austin felt like he had to ask my permission with Rand standing right there is beyond me but they were all waiting for my answer so I said, “As long as Rand doesn’t need you and you promise to eat all of your food then it’s fine with me.”

I gave Austin his BLT wrap that I’d made with some canned bacon, lettuce from the garden, and canned diced tomatoes that I drained. I also put a couple of churros in a napkin for him for dessert. Then I filled his water bottle with the apple juice that was still cold enough to make your teeth hurt since I had put it straight into a big insulated canteen after letting it sit in the cooler for two days. Then all the boys trooped off and I watched them go to the tree and promptly start splitting everything into pieces to share it around.

“He’ll be fine. Leo’s dad was a scout master and eating his lunch just on the other side there. See him?”

“Yeah. Do you want your lunch?”

“Actually … Kiri … I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that.”

“Did Missy say something to you?” I asked indignantly.

“No. About what?”

“Nothing, never mind. She was over here a little while ago sticking her nose in.”

“Sounds like something she would do. So, will you tell me why I’m catching heck?”

“You aren’t catching anything. I haven’t been around to give you any. I haven’t said anything about …”

“Yeah, I know. Look … just pretend I’m a complete idiot and explain it to me in words of one or two syllables and slow down if you start losing me.”

“That’s not funny. And I’ve already told you that … “

“I know what you said I don’t know why you feel you had to say it.”

I was getting angry again and I didn’t want to be, my stomach was only just getting out of all the knots it had been in. But unless I wanted to act like the spoiled brat that Rand had called me I didn’t see anything else to do.

“Rand, short answer. You asked me to not get into trouble and I promised I wouldn’t. I promised. Then you turn around and act like I’m not to be trusted to keep my word. I cut through all the crap and decided it was just simpler to go to the wagon. I can’t make the concept any simpler than that for you.”

Rand just looked at me. I know he was dying to say something. I could see him all but chewing on the words to keep them in his mouth. He opened his mouth but never got a chance to because a military patrol rode up hard and they had several wounded men with them. “Is Pastor Ken around?! We need a medic or a doctor or something!!”

The boys, who had heard the call for a medic, scattered to hunt up Ken while the men ran over to help the injured. I slithered out of the wagon without much dignity but I did make it to the ground in one piece, bringing the sheet I had covered the hay with. The blood was coming from some place and I figured Ken would need something to tie it up until the military medics arrived.

Ken arrived about the same time I managed to. I went to give him the sheet and Rand grabbed my arm and snatched me backwards. Before I could bark at Rand Ken said, “Thanks Kiri, come around here, your hands are smaller and I need someone to hold this bandage while I tie it.”

I heard the men reporting by radio that they’d been ambushed. They’d killed several of their attackers but some had still escaped.

After it was over with Ken said, “I didn’t know you had first aid training. If I would have know that … “

“You would have what?” I asked with a small smile. “Signed me up to be your nurse? You know good and well you wouldn’t have. Besides, the only instruction I’ve gotten would be called on-the-job training. They always stuck me with the terminal patients at the warehouse and I helped Aunt Wilma patch up the boys when they’d get into fights and stuff. No one seemed to complain too much.”

“Ha! Don’t listen to her Ken.” Ram had been talking with the soldiers. “We didn’t dare say anything. We were too afraid of her. It gives me nightmares just to remember her coming at me with that first aid kit of her aunt’s.”

“Shut up Ram.” Great, all I needed on top of everything else was Ram’s mouth.

“Of course Chica. Anything you say chica.” The act he was putting on got a few laughs from the other men.

Ignoring Ram is easier said than done but I managed it that time. I tried to stand up by myself but found Rand right behind me giving me a boost. I walked away and was trying to get back in the wagon when Rand was right there, “Come back to the swap meet.”

“No. You have business and … “

“Ok. I get it. I shouldn’t have shadowed you like that. Come back into the swap meet.”

“Rand, this goes beyond the swap meet. You just flat out don’t trust me to be reasonable in public. You don’t. I can see it in your face even now. You’re thinking, give into her to stop the fight then just keep an eye on her some other way. So no, I’d rather just stay here.”

“You’re really going to be a hard head about this aren’t you.”

“If that’s what you want to call it then yes. You acted like my promise wasn’t worth the breath it took to make it and treated me like I have no honor.”

“Now you’re exaggerating. I … I … “

I wasn’t bending on this one. He either trusted me or he didn’t and from where I was standing he didn’t. Rather than have that hurt eating at me while he showed me again and again exactly what he was thinking I was going to stay in the wagon.

“Come into the swap meet now. It’s embarrassing me to have people wondering why you are sitting out here. I’m tired of telling people that Lucretia is crazy and that I’m not making you sit out here.”

“Yeah well how do you think it makes me feel to have people seeing you hovering on top of me like my mouth needs to be locked up with a chastity belt? Besides, what do you care what Lucretia or anyone else thinks or says if you are so sure you are right?”

I had put my foot on the wagon tongue to climb up when Rand put an arm around my middle and the other on the side of the wagon. “Don’t do this Kiri, don’t make this into more than I meant it to be.”

“What you meant? I understood exactly what you meant and I’m making it out to be exactly that.”

“What do you want from me? You do get in trouble and you know it.”

“I never get into trouble on purpose. Are you going to hold it against me because … forget it, that’s exactly what you are doing. Perhaps it would have been more comfortable for you if I would have just been some helpless princess type. Fine, you want that, you’ll get it. Anything to just have this over with.” I climbed back off the wagon and stood there.

“Fine. Two can play this game. We’re going back to the swap meet and you are going to stay and help Missy and Bill and you’ll stay there until I pick you up.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 83B

We walked back to the meet and over to the Shack trailer. Rand said for all to hear, “Stay here and don’t leave. I’ll come pick you up when I’m ready to go.”

Missy sighed and said, “There goes my cousin, Idiot Extraordinaire. Bill go say something to him.”

“No. Leave it alone Missy,” I told her. “It isn’t anything.”

“You sure? Because your face and what is coming out of your mouth aren’t in sync.”

I put on my best waitress face and said, “Everything’s just fine. What do you need me to help with?”

I wound up folding incoming items and bagging outgoing items, pretty mindless stuff which was fine by me. I finally registered that Missy kept bringing me stuff instead of me coming to get it from her and really looked up for the first time. I wish I hadn’t. Rand was standing around with what were obviously friends from his past, laughing and carrying on … and SueLinda was there too, all but hanging on him. I just went back to what I was doing.

Missy said, “Kiri … I …”

“Forget it Missy. It is his choice and he’s made it abundantly clear. Is that next pile of stuff ready?”

“You’re just going to let this go?”

“Rand doesn’t trust me not to make a scene. He’s trying to push me into making one so he can prove his point that I’m not capable of controlling myself. I’m not going to give him a scene.”

“That’s my girl. Prove you’re right,” Missy said relieved.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with me being right. In the past I cared enough to make a scene when forced into the situation. I refuse to care about it anymore. I refuse to be forced one way or the other.”

“Kiri! Don’t say that,” Missy begged.

“Missy, Rand cares more about being right than he cares about trusting me. He cares so much more that he is willing to risk everything by taking up with that SueLinda woman just to try and get me to have a snit out here in public after he warned me away from her just this morning. Fine. That’s his choice. And this is mine.”

I kept working until Rand came over and just stood there. SueLinda came over with him and looked at me with a grin, “Oh Kiri, I didn’t see you standing there. You missed some fun.”

“I saw. I had work to do,” I answered her calmly and politely.

“You saw? Really? Oh dear. Rand maybe we shouldn’t have …”

Rand started looking uncomfortable. “Knock it off SueLinda.”

“But Rand, I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea,” she laughed.

I looked at her and said, “No one got the wrong idea SueLinda. They know Rand and by now they know you. There will be a few to think the worst but there always are. Either way, Rand can do what he wants. I’m not his boss.”

“That’s right … you’re just his what? Oh yeah, just his wife.”

“SueLinda that … is … enough.” Rand snapped.

“But darling … “

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” she laughed. “See you soon. Don’t forget … you promised.”

Missy said in a dull voice, “Rand, I’ve said it before but I’ve never meant it as much as I do right now; you’re an idiot. Kiri, you want to come home with us? It looks like things are pretty much over anyway.”

“No. I need to get home and piece out this next set of pre-orders. And I’ve got the garden that needs tending to. I’ve also got that shirt that I need to finish for Austin.”

Missy hugged me and whispered in my ear, “I mean it, you need a break from him you come to us first, you hear?”

I just shrugged and followed Rand out to the wagon; we collected Austin along the way and he chattered enough to fill the silence between us. I got into the back of the wagon before there was a question of who was sitting where and we left. The trip home seemed to last forever.

After we made it home we went on about our business the same as always. Or maybe not the same as always, the chores got finished, we went through the motions, I cooked dinner, and we cleaned up from the day. Rand and I were very careful to say nothing but that said everything. I guess we play acted well enough since Austin didn’t seem to notice and went off to bed a little earlier than usual from the excitement from the day. Now came the time I was dreading.

Rand and I just sat and said more nothing but the day caught up with me too and I must have fallen asleep in the chair. I didn’t wake up until Rand came over and said quietly, “Kiri. Kiri. Come on. Let’s go to bed. It’s been … it’s been a long day.”

I stood up only to fall down and hit my knees when it felt like someone shoved a white hot poker into my side. I shook off Rand’s arm when he went to grab me and leaned over and breathed through the pain.

“Kiri? Are you … do you need me to go get Ken?” Rand asked anxiously.

“I’m fine. Same old thing. I just moved the wrong way. It’ll go away. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the chair.” Then I walked to the bathroom and shut the door and got ready for bed, came out, climbed in bed and tried to go back to sleep. Amazingly enough I did. I don’t even remember Rand coming to bed.

Next day was the same. All we did was go through the motions. We got up, tended the animals, ate breakfast and I cleaned up; there was no church service so the day was supposed to be fairly quiet. I decided to continue working on my notes out in the orchard where it was quiet and I could try and get outside of the pain I was in; pain not from the scar tissue, though that was there and dull, but from everything else.

Lunch was a large salad of things that needed to be eaten out of the garden and I crumbled up some of the canned bacon. Austin plowed through his and then asked to be excused to go play with Woofer. As soon as he left I gave up pretending to eat and took my plate over to the sideboard and raked it into the slop pail then left to go back to the orchard. I was several yards from the house when I heard something smashed. I kept walking and thinking, “If he expects me to clean up after his temper tantrum he has another think coming.”

Not long after that I heard Rand tell Austin to stay near the house because he was going hunting. Two hours later I still hadn’t heard a single shot. I just thought hunting hadn’t been very good or that “hunting” had just been a story he told to Austin because he needed to get away or go visiting or something (or someone). I went inside and started dinner. It was just a potluck stew but it took all my concentration to mix it and cook it without burning it; all my brains seemed to be leaking out of my ears.

I was putting dinner on the table when Rand came in. Maybe if I had looked at him I would have had some warning of what was to come but I was putting food on Austin’s plate and didn’t look up. After dinner was over with we settled down for the evening. The days are finally getting longer which means more can be done in the evening without the lamps. I had been looking forward to it but at that point all I wanted was for the day to end so that I could slip into oblivion. I didn’t want to think anymore. I didn’t want to feel anymore. I just wanted to stop and get off the merry go round before I puked.

The daylight might have been getting longer but that didn’t mean that we had any more energy. Austin was nodding off and he and Woofer went off to bed without a squeak. I was done. As soon as Austin headed off to bed I went to change and go to bed myself. When I came out of the bedroom Rand was standing right there.

“Come up to the dormer room with me,” he said in a quiet voice.

I really didn’t feel like it but I felt even less like dealing with the ruckus of a scene so I followed him upstairs. It was the beginning of March but it still got cool at night and there wasn’t any heat up there. I shivered in my nightgown and bare feet.

“Here, sit beside me.” That I didn’t want to do either but Rand seemed determined to say something and I was pretty cold by that point.

“Look, this has gotten way out of hand. You aren’t talking to me. You aren’t … “

“Rand, just spit it out. Stop telling me what my faults are, I’m well aware of what they are. Just jump ahead to the part where you tell me what you want.”

Rand put his head in his hands and said, “That’s not what I mean. Look, I went out to hunt but you know what I did? Do you?”

I just looked at him.

He sighed. “I fielded questions from over a dozen people. How were you feeling? Had you accepted my apology? Was I sleeping on the sofa or in the dog house? Had you kicked me out all together?”

“Rand, I’m too tired for jokes. Just spit out what you … “

“You think I’m joking?! I got reamed out by just about every biddy in the Ladies’ Auxiliary. Mrs. Withrow had Uncle George drive her out special. Momma O was out driving with some of her women friends. Henderson said things must be OK because he hadn’t heard any explosions out our way and then the worst one was your blasted brother who threatened to beat the crap out of me if I didn’t fix this. No … no actually the worst was when Missy finally explained to me just how bad I had messed up.”

“Just ignore them.”

“Ignore them? Are you kidding?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Yeah. Like you could ignore all of that.”

“Rand, here’s a clue, I spent years ignoring people’s opinion of me. Years ignoring people telling me what was wrong with me. When that’s all you hear, hearing it once is enough and you just ignore the repetition. Look, I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

“What? Wait!”

“For what Rand? You told me about what people are saying. I can’t stop them from talking; I can’t do anything at all about it. Trying to do something about it will only cause them to talk more. People always talk. Sometimes it seems like that is all people do … talk, talk, talk. Well, let ‘em. And then you ignore them. What else is there?”

I was struggling to get up off of the low mattress, my fat belly throwing my center of gravity way off. It didn’t take much of a tug for Rand to keep me down.

“Kiri, I’m sorry. I over reacted. I should have given you a chance.”

“To do what? Prove myself to you again? How many times do I have to do that Rand? I don’t have a problem with that exactly but what’s the goal here? I just want to know so I can get on with it. How many tests are there? How many times do I have to pass? How many more tests get added to the list if I fail once? Is the goal to get to a point where I’m not me anymore? I’d appreciate the chance to still be able to stand the person in the mirror; I spent too many years despising her to want to go back to that. So whoever it is you want me to be I still need to be able to tolerate her.”

When he took too long to answer I started to get up and this time I managed it with at least some grace; and he didn’t stop me. I’m not too sure I would have let him stop me at that point. I was tired. I was done. And I was hurting. I got down the stairs and went and crawled in bed. I just shut my eyes and I was out which surprised me.

But I didn’t get to sleep long. Rand jerked away hard enough to wake me up from my own sound sleep. “Dang it Woofer, what the … ? Austin? What’s wrong Buddy?”

“Rand I heard something outside.”

“You sure it wasn’t just the wind?”

“I waited for it to be just the wind. I wanted it to be just the wind. But I don’t think it is. It … it doesn’t sound like people but I don’t know what it is.”

Rand and I were both up and grabbing for our rifles then Rand slung his rifle and picked up his shotgun as well. Woofer was whining and that wasn’t like him. Rand went up to the dormer and then came running down fast and coughing.

“There’s a fire off to the NW. Still on the other side of US90 I think. I don’t know how big it is but it’s a smoky one. Austin, put Woofer on a leash and keep him inside. We can’t let him run off in the dark. Kiri …”

“Just like we talked about. BOBs for each of us, and prepare to load the wagon with what is on the list we made.”

He walked up to me and pulled me in for a hug. “We never got to finish fixing things, no matter what happens I just want you to know I … “

“Don’t Rand. Let’s just get through this.”

“This” took the rest of the night to get through. The noise that woke Austin and Woofer was animals … all of them escaping the big fire, panicked, occasionally running into things in the dark. Lucky for us the fire didn’t come near as close as we had thought, it was just that it smoked so heavily. I wound up breaking into some of the stuff that I had salvaged back at Itchetucknee to get to some paper face masks; the ones that you could wear to keep dust out of your lungs while mowing or cleaning or stuff like that. Even with wearing those masks most of the night I still taste smoke on the back of my throat.

Rand road Hatchet up to the end of the road at first light. He was up there only a moment before Hoss, Bradley, and Mitch came out of the thick smog along with four military guys. He brought them back to our place so that they could fill their canteens and wash their faces, all black except where bandanas had covered their nose and mouths. I kept busy refilling the pitcher used to fill their canteens and making corncakes they smeared with butter or sorghum. Even the military guys ate and acted very appreciative. I hope they don’t get in trouble for accepting something from a civilian. I just figured they worked to help save our community it sure as heck doesn’t bother me to feed them.

They left out after saying that it looked like a still set up in a section of planted pines exploded and caused the fire. A survivor of the explosion was found stumbling out of the smoke. The explosion itself was heard by several night patrols – one of them from the Henderson ranch, two from the military, and various neighborhood patrols – and they all converged and cooperated to do what they could. Trees were felled and dragged away and lots of shovels dug a temporary fire break. On one side a back fire was lit to keep the fire from spreading into a populated area.

We were lucky. There were only two deaths and both of them were directly attributable to the original still explosion. Lots of small injuries and some smoke inhalation but nothing major. One horse was lost when it panicked and ran into the fire instead of away from it. There was some property damage but nothing where anyone was currently living. A one lane bridge over a creek on a logging road has burnt down but it wasn’t being used too much and had a wash out on one corner that could have taken it down at any moment anyway. So, while it could have been better there is no doubt that it could have been much worse.

At lunch we were all just exhausted. Austin fell asleep on the rug in the living room with Woofer beside him to keep him warm. I put a cover over him and then went to the kitchen in search of some caffeine. I knew I wasn’t supposed to have it but I was desperate; I was practically walking into walls I was so tired. I found Rand with his head on his arm on the kitchen table. I found a quilt and draped it over his shoulders; he never even moved just started snoring. I washed my face and then went out to the porch and sat in the rocker and tried to stay awake, not all of us could sleep during the day at the same time with the animals out and raiders in the area. I set my rifle next to me and then took my notes and continued to work for about two hours. When I started to nod off I would get up and walk around the house or check on the livestock then I’d come sit back down for a while longer.

I was just coming back from refilling the water trough in the corral when I saw Rand walking towards me fast. “Have you slept?”

“”What? No, of course not. I know we need to have someone … “

He sighed, “I didn’t mean it like that Kiri. I meant you need to rest even more than I do. You shouldn’t have let me sleep.”

“It’s too close to chore time and for me to get dinner started.”

He looked like he wanted to object but instead he said, “OK, then come sit with me on the porch.”

“Rand … “

“What’s it gonna hurt to sit down? Unless it is sitting down with me?”

Now it was my turn to sigh but rather than answer I just went up to the porch with him following close behind. I tried to sit in the rocker but he swung me around and I landed in the two-seater porch swing with him sitting right beside me.

“Kiri, just how badly have I messed things up? Give me some hope that this can be fixed.”

“Rand don’t start, OK? I’m just not able to do … whatever it is you want from me with a straight head.”

“I’m sorry Kiri. I know you aren’t in any shape for this but … I just can’t keep on this way. That stuff … the stuff with SueLinda at the swap meet … I never meant it to go as far as it did. I was just hacked and angry that you wouldn’t see things my way. I wanted to make a point only you didn’t … you wouldn’t … God what a mess this has turned into.”

Suddenly I couldn’t seem to find my righteous indignation, all I knew is that I was tired of what was happening too. “Just forget about it Rand. I was showing my backside too. I just … just … I don’t know Rand. Just let it go.”

“I wish I could Kiri, I really do but something is really messed up. Look at you. I’ve never seen you like this. You’ve always reared right back at anyone, including me, that crossed the line. It’s like you are just going through the motions. Like … like you don’t care anymore.”

“What do you want from me Rand?! I said you could forget about it. I said I was at fault too. Why talk it to death? You want it to go away, that’s the only way I can figure to let it just go away.”

“I don’t want to just sweep it under the rug. I want to fix it.”

“Argh!!! Great big gobs of gopher guts! Rumplestilskin! Aunt Fanny’s fanny! Jumped up Jehosephat!!” I was grinding my teeth and all but yelling.

Rand nearly choked and said, “What are you doing?!”

“I’m trying not to swear OK. That stupid booklet says that the baby can hear things even before it is born. I don’t want the first thing my kid hears is its mother cussing a blue streak no matter if that is what I feel like doing right now.”

Rand raked his fingers through his hair and then he sighed. “I’m going to be bald as a cue ball before I’m thirty. I’m sitting here trying to fix things and you’re … you’re … Argh!”

“Fix what? There is no fixing the fact that I’m never going to be able to be who you want me to be. Get it through your head already. I’ll try but I’ll never be Julia or your mother or whoever it is you are trying to mold me into. You’ll either have to accept what I can do and let that be enough or tell me up front that it isn’t going to be good enough and let’s just get all of this over with. You know it isn’t exactly easy changing myself to be … “

“I don’t want you to change. I never asked you to change. I want you to be you.”

“Bull. Total bull. If you didn’t have a problem with me being me then you would have accepted that I was going to try and stay out of trouble at the swap meet. You would have trusted that I would follow through on my promise. But you don’t and you didn’t. It hurt but I accepted it and I’m not letting it hurt me anymore. You want … I don’t know what to call what you want but I’ll try and be that. I’m tired of fighting too you know. But I keep my promises and no few of them I made when we got married. I promised to honor and obey and stick it out through good times and bad. I’ll do what it takes to keep my promises even if you … if no one … believes I’m capable of it. Because my promises mean something to me, that’s why I don’t make many of them and those I do make I don’t make lightly. I may only be seventeen and an orphan with no family but I was raised right, I was raised that your honor and your word mean more than anything else you might own and that keeping your word is what determines what kind of person you are.”

“I never said … “

“Don’t even Rand … just don’t even. Actions speak louder than words. Your actions have been screaming at me for a long while now, I just didn’t want to hear what they were saying.”

Rand was getting angry again too but we both turned when Austin came around the house and asked, “Is everything OK?”

I felt bad. I told the little guy that Rand and I were going to make things better for him; that he could feel safe here. He’s been through so much and I don’t want him to worry. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it. I’m just tired and cranky. I need to get up and go fix dinner so why don’t you help Rand get the animals taken care of. OK?”

“Sure Kiri! I’m not tired at all!” I was glad someone’s world was still upright.

Dinner and evening chores went off without a hitch and I was finally able to find my quiet space inside myself. I wrapped myself up in it and could at least pretend like I was calm, cool, and collected. It also made it easier not to feel much of what I had been feeling out on the porch.

Despite Austin having said he wasn’t tired he nearly fell asleep in the warm milk that I made for him. I checked after he went to go get ready for bed to find he’d fallen across the mattress still dressed in everything but his boots and belt. Woofer was curled up beside him.

I walked into the living room and said, “Austin is already out. Didn’t even make it into his PJs.”

“Let him sleep.”

“OK, I’m going to …”

“The dormer room with me. We aren’t finished talking.”

I was outraged … or as outraged as my fatigue would let me get. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Rand I’m tired. I’m not in a real good place to talk anymore. I need to go to bed.”

“We both do but not until we work this out.”

“I already told you … “

“I know what you already told me and I didn’t like it.”

“Well that’s just too bad. I’m tired and I’m … going … to … bed.”

Well, that didn’t work. He hefted me up and said, “Don’t fight me. I don’t want to drop you or fall down the stairs.”

“Are you crazy?! Put me down before you hurt your back. I’m the size of an elephant!”

“No you’re not. And don’t think you are going to be able to get away from me either. I’ll flaming tie you down if I have to and hang the consequences. We are talking this out and I mean now!”

I was so tired I nearly cried in frustration but I wasn’t going to let him see that. When he finally put me down I sat in the chair. Or I should I say tried to sit in the chair. My backside had no sooner hit the seat cushion that he picked me up and sat me on the bed and then sat down beside me, put his leg over mine and grabbed my hand. “Don’t run away Kiri.”

“I’m not running away Rand. Have I left the house? Have I gone anywhere? I’m right here despite the fact that I want to be down in the bedroom sleeping.”

“Actually yeah. Yeah you have run away. Your body might be here in body but you aren’t, not really.”

“God Rand … don’t go all philosophical on me. Just spit it out so I can agree to whatever it is you want and then go to bed.”

“See? That’s what I mean. You automatically say that you’ll agree to what I say, no questions asked, just to pacify me. You don’t even want to discuss this.”

“Frankly Rand I don’t. I’m trying to keep the peace. I promised no more scenes, no more arguments. I won’t be an embarrassment. I’m tired of worrying about it. I’m tired of having it thrown in my face that …”

“Kiri stop. Stop. Please just stop.”

“Will you make up your mind?! First you pester the heck out of me to talk and now when I’m talking and telling you that I’m capitulating you want me to shut up. What is it you want?!”

“I want you back!”

“No you don’t. You don’t trust who I was. I was an embarrassment every time we went out in public.”

“I never said that!”

“You didn’t have to. Constantly dogging me. Constantly checking up on me. Making sure I hadn’t started any fights. Making sure I wasn’t acting like a fool. And no … you never said it like that but that’s what it amounts to. I didn’t want to see it though it’s something I’ve been afraid of from the very beginning. It just finally came out at the swap meet. You don’t trust me to act like I ought to. Now it is time for me to deal with it. I don’t like being an embarrassment and a problem for you so I’m going to change. Like I told you, I doubt I’ll ever measure up to … up to …“ I was seeing spots … why was I seeing spots? Then I felt something wet on my upper lip and when I wiped at it I came away with a smear of red. I kept looking at it trying to put two and two together only I’d forgotten how to do basic math.

The next thing I remember hearing is, “If her blood pressure is back to normal then why is she still unconscious and so pale? And I still don’t understand what the bloody nose was about.”

“Pregnant women’s blood volume increases right along with their pregnancy. Hormones increase as well causing changes within the body. Bloody noses are common for many pregnant women. And with the fluctuation in blood pressure a bloody nose is to be expected. However, that is something that needs to be watched to make sure it isn’t a precursor to something more serious. As for the rest of it, you said she kept complaining of being tired and wasn’t acting like herself. I know you two had a disagreement and that could be responsible for … “

“Are you saying that I caused this?”

“No. I am saying however that stress and fatigue are a bad combination, especially for Kiri. She has a … unique way of dealing with her stress. We both know she is action oriented, she also tends to internalize a lot rather than letting people see what she is really thinking. If she is trying to change how she responds to certain stimuli then perhaps it is causing her more stress rather than less. Frankly Rand there aren’t too many women I know that would not have been able to act as unaffected by the displays going on Saturday as she did. And we both know she had to have been dying to … to … God only knows what. Everyone kept expecting a major blow up and thought you were crazy … or cruel … to be egging her on like that. What were you thinking? Especially in her condition.”

“Yeah, I know I messed up. But it was more than that she’s just … shut me out. She hasn’t acted like herself at all. She won’t …”

“Rand, let me tell you something that few people know. You remember my wife?”

“Yeah.”

“You remember how calm and patient she always was?”

“Yeah, she was real soft spoken and …”

“It was all a lie.”

“Huh? I mean what?”

“Tessa was …” and he laughed sadly. “She chose to act like that because that is what she thought I needed for my ministry. She didn’t want to embarrass me. But the truth? When our doors were closed and she could be sure that no one was listening she used to say what she really felt about some people and I mean tell it in graphic detail and technicolor. She had very little tolerance for some of the things that I saw yet she didn’t express that outside of our house because she didn’t want to cause problems. She tried to be supportive of my calling but she had a hard time fitting into the stereotypical role of minister’s wife. And when Kenny got old enough to start repeating things he heard at home she stopped letting herself go except late at night when our bedroom door closed. And after a while not even then.”

“I … I don’t know what to say.”

“There isn’t anything that can be said. I let Tessa make that choice even though I knew it was a bad one because it was easier on me, it was more comfortable. But the truth was that it was taking a toll on Tessa, on me, and on our marriage. It got to be that Tessa didn’t feel like she could be herself about anything and we eventually stopped talking to each other about anything meaningful. Our marriage was floundering and I was at a loss as to what to do about it … I mean I knew, but I was too afraid of what people would say if she really let loose. I felt it was all or nothing and Tessa picked up on that. And because she did still love me, despite our problems, she tried to be what she thought I needed no matter how badly it hurt her. Then the flu came and … and I’ll never get the chance to fix things. I’ll have to go to my grave knowing that I missed out on … on something that could have been better, deeper, more meaningful.”

“I’m not asking Kiri to change!”

“If what you are saying is what is happening then she’s gotten the idea from some place. Maybe no one said it outright but … “

I’d had enough, even if I did feel like crud and wanted to go back to sleep. “I swear you people are too nosy to be believed. I didn’t ask for your help. I didn’t ask for anyone to take up a cause on my behalf. Just … “

Ken came over and started checking my pulse. I wanted to rip my arm out of his grip but I didn’t seem to have the energy. “Hmmm. Better but I want you to stay in bed the rest of the day, sleeping preferably. And no more pushing your body to the limits. You’re growing a baby and your body needs everything it can get for a while longer yet. No skimping on meals either. Eat smaller meals more often if you are having trouble eating a full meal three times a day. Eat the high iron foods we’ve discussed before but keep your diet balanced as well; not too much sugar, watch the fats and to process all the protein you are eating I want you to drink as much water as you can stand and then a little more on top of that.”

“Oh, go away,” I can remember groaning. “Just once it would be nice if you came by and didn’t leave me with a list of do’s and don’ts a yard long.”

“Sorry,” he said in a voice that said even louder that he really wasn’t as he and Rand left the room.

I rolled on my side and then blinked them all the way open when I saw two sets of eyes peering over the mattress edge. Austin and Woofer both looked worried. “I’m fine. If you want I’ll fix pancakes for breakfast in just a minute.”

“It’s way passed breakfast. It’s almost dinner.”

“What?! “ I said as I tried to sit up. That’s when Rand walked back in.

“Ken’s gone and … Whoa! No getting up until tomorrow. Remember?”

Austin said anxiously, “We didn’t wake her up Rand, honest! She just opened her eyes and … “

“I know Buddy. Look, there’s some dinner on the table. Why don’t you take Woofer and grab something to eat. We’ll pop some popcorn in a little while.”

The boy and dog both scrambled to the kitchen leaving Rand and I looking at each other. I sighed and rolled over, still tired.

Rand sat on the bed. “I never wanted you to change Kiri. I just … I just want to keep you - you and the baby - safe. That’s my job.”

“I don’t want to be anyone’s job Rand.”

“I know, I’m not saying this right. Look, maybe I didn’t handle it very well but you took it the wrong way too. I don’t want you to change. I want you to be careful. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t trust you. I do trust you, it’s everybody else I don’t trust.”

I sighed and said, “Fine.”

“No, it’s not fine. Things really got messed up this time. Too many bad things are happening too often and too fast. They are starting to bleed into how we … I don’t know … work together, work things out, whatever you want to call it.”

“Just let it go Rand. We’re both just tired. And now look at this. I’m stuck in this stupid bed with so much to do. I messed up again.”

“No. Don’t think that. Ken says it is stress related on top of exhaustion. He’s seen some other women doing this too. And he says that you’re young so that only complicates things.”

“What does that have to do with anything for Pete’s sake? There were plenty of pregnant girls in highschool and none of them got laid up on bed rest like this.”

“Really? Highschools down in Tampa must have been … never mind … Ken says that technically you’re still … you’re still growing. Your body is still a kid somewhat and … “

“Bull snot … I’ve been this same height since I was twelve. And I’m about as blossomed out as I’m going to get.”

“Hey, if you think it makes me feel too good for Ken to tell me you’re still basically a growing kid it doesn’t. But I get what he means. Bottom line is you need … I need to help you get … more rest. You can’t keep going the way you’ve been going. You have to stay in the best shape you can from here on out because you are going to need it as the baby gets bigger and you get closer to … to … going into labor and stuff. Most of all though you need me to … “

“Rand, it’s fine just let me … “

“No. It’s not fine. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t trust you. I have to get you to understand that.”

“You said that all ready. Just let it …”

“I’m not going to just let it go. I need to know Kiri. When did it start going bad? When did you start feeling that you embarrassed me and that I didn’t trust you?”

“Why do you have to be so pig headed about this?!”

“I could say that’s the pot calling the kettle black but I won’t. Listen real careful to what I’m saying. The reason why I won’t let this go is because it means too much to me … you mean too much to me.”

And with that, doggone it, the flood gates opened. They weren’t big noisy tears but they were tears I couldn’t stop and it would have made me mad if I’d had the energy.

“Aw Babe. OK, I won’t bother you about this anymore tonight but this isn’t over. We are going to get this taken care of.”

I think I slept for a little while again. I woke up and everything was real quiet. I looked over to see Rand with the headphones on listening to the radio. He jumped a little bit when he looked over and saw me awake and then two other heads popped up over the end of the bed. The inseparable duo were camped out at Rand’s feet … literally camped out with a sleeping bag, flashlight, the whole nine yards.

“I said they could sleep in here tonight,” Rand said as he raised his eyebrows asking me silently if it was OK.

“So long as they don’t expect me to haul my fat belly to sleep down there too. And no singing Kumbayah or The Bear Went Over the Mountain. And the latrines are thata way. Got it?”

That got a laugh from Austin and the two heads disappeared again. “Anything on the radio?” I asked.

“Same old mess only more of it. You want to listen?”

“Not really. Not tonight. I think … I think I’m just want to write for a while.”

Rand brought over my traveling desk and Austin brought the wind up lamp while I sat up and tried to arrange the pillows. Everyone eventually went back to what they were doing and I’ve been writing ever since. Austin went to sleep fairly quickly and Rand is asleep in the chair with the headphones still on. And there isn’t much ink left in the bottom of the bottle so it looks like I’m going to have to give it up too.

I know things happen so that we can learn things and be better people but I have to say that the last few days are going on my list of days that I would never want to live over, not even in my dreams.
 

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 84

March 9th – Today I have kept quietly busy. There has also been a quiet between Rand and I; it hasn’t been comfortable but it hasn’t been uncomfortable either. It’s more like a … a … a necessary bit of quiet; not before the storm but what comes after it. I think we are both trying to find a balance between us, find our own personal balance. I sure don’t want to rock the boat right now; things just feel too delicate, like one wrong move and the whole thing will shatter beyond repair.

I wonder if Daddy and Momma ever had problems like this? Probably not. Momma was the epitome of the good wife; fantastic cook, great housekeeper, organized (well, most of the time), loads of patience, wise, great mother, grew and preserved a lot of our food even living in the suburbs like we did. I could go on and on. Sometimes I wonder what she would make of me if she was still around. I remember hearing that Daddy was a little wild when they first got married and that Momma finally told him to start coming home earlier or to not bother coming home at all. Supposedly this happened when she was pregnant with me. Maybe it is just that by the time I was old enough to notice they had gotten their act together and worked out their differences. Huh, that’s something I never thought about before. To me Momma and Daddy were near about perfect. Maybe Rand and I do still stand a chance.

What I do know after thinking about it all day is the same thing I eventually learned despite the years of therapy that tried to burn it out of me is that I have got to be me, warts and all. I’m not saying that I don’t have room to learn and change – to grow into a better person – but I still have to be true to my core beliefs and personality. The core beliefs part isn’t a problem because Rand and I are pretty evenly yoked in that respect. No, it’s the personality part that I’m afraid is the real issue.

I can only fake stuff for so long … well, really not long at all if I’m honest with myself. It doesn’t take much for me to get flaky around the edges. People drive me nuts because I don’t feel I can be myself around them. I’m more afraid of hurting their feelings than them hurting mine and constantly having to tiptoe around people’s “issues” gets old real fast. One of the guidance counselors at school said I was like a bull in a china shop; rather than walking carefully around all the glass cases of delicate objects I tend to plow right in and then plow right back out. I’ve just never been overly impressed with sacred cows. I don’t set out to do it on purpose, I’ve tried no few times to be easier on people, but somehow I always wind up losing patience with whole process of “appropriate social interaction” if required to do it for more than a few hours at a time. I don’t think that Rand minds that part so much but maybe that is part of it. I don’t know. I know we need to talk but I’m kind of afraid of what gets said.

All of this has been running through my head all day long and the only way I’ve been able to stand it is because my hands have stayed as busy as my brain. No hard labor; I haven’t felt up to it and Rand and Austin pretty much made sure that it wasn’t going to happen anyway. Today was supposed to be cleaning day but I just couldn’t abide being closed up inside the house any more. I opted to spend most of the day out of doors, we even ate on the lanai since the day was so nice. I think that has helped clear some of the cobwebs from my brain.

First thing I cooked some beans in the ground. Austin had asked me about that when Rand had been telling him stories of how we met. I hadn’t done it in quite some time and it seemed kind of appropriate to do it again. It was just pinto beans but they turned out really good.

After that I needed to start some new seed trays. Problem … I’ve used up most of my pots and I don’t really have that many sheets of newspaper left to make paper pots with. I’ve even used up the bottoms that I cut off of the two-liter soda bottles. But I’m trying to get ahead and use seed as economically as possible by not direct sewing and then having to thin the seedlings out by hand. That’s when I had a goofy thought.

Rand still has piles (and piles and piles) of salvage materials stacked around. The animals escaping the fire kept running into the piles which is what woke Austin (whose bedroom is toward the front of the house) in the first place. One of the particularly noisy piles is a stack aluminum rain gutters. I took short sections that were already messed up for some reason and used a hammer and awl to poke holes in the bottom of the gutter; this is for drainage. Then I filled the gutter well decayed compost. They weren’t the prettiest planters I’ve ever seen, and some have a tendency to want to lay on their side (fixed that with pieces of wood), but they do the job.

Rand laughed when he saw my scrap yard planters and then stopped, worried that he had hurt my feelings. See, this is what I’m afraid of. That we can’t get back to where we were so comfortable with one another and are unable to laugh out of fear of causing a problem. I didn’t hide my feelings quick enough and Rand saw. He apologized for hurting my feelings and then I had to go through the long drawn out you didn’t, are you sure, I’m positive explanation that I’d been upset by the fact that he thought he couldn’t even laugh with me anymore and not at being laughed at. Then he got worried that he seemed over sensitive and had started a problem that way. It would be nice if we could just make up quick like we used to.

After lunch, a mac-n-cheese kind of casserole thing that I through together with the help of some LTS pasta from a #10 can, I got a little sleepy. I’m still not up to full steam but I didn’t want to waste the daylight hours sleeping. My next project came from something that Austin’s Peepaw used to do.

Daddy and Momma had gone all out as they furnished the house. They knew they needed to do it while Daddy was still working or it wasn’t likely to happen so on the windows they put these really nice horizontal blinds made of thick PVC. They were dual purpose, kept heat and UV rays out and kept light in. Those blinds combined with the blackout curtains and the shutters on the outside of the house provided a great deal of security and privacy. But from the salvage houses we had a lot of those less expensive horizontal window blinds, the kind with the skinny shade slats on them. Well Austin’s grandfather would take the skinny slats, cut them in lengths averaging about eight inches and turn them into plant markers. I cut one end into a point and then used a permanent marker to write the name and variety of veggie or herb that I had planted. One blind provided more plant markers than I would probably ever need.

The pinto beans and rice made for an easy dinner and clean up which was something I appreciated good times or bad. After dinner I puttered around while Rand and Austin put the animals away. When they came in we had a quiet evening. It’s now so warm we don’t have to have a fire.

Austin went to bed a few minutes ago and Rand has that look on his face, the one that says he wants to talk. Oh brother, here we go.


March 10th – Despite the beautiful sky it’s been a nasty day. If Rand and I hadn’t done a lot of talking and making up last night this day would have been even worse. I stumbled through part of the day for sure as I was just so tired but it was a tired worth getting.

Things are … healing I guess you would call it. We’re working on making things better. I’m trying to understand his driving need to be a protector and understand that it is his way of securing his future, our future, and all of those man dreams guys seem to have. I’m trying to remember that he’s doing this out of love and not just to be controlling. He’s trying to understand and remember that while his intent might be pure, and that I don’t begrudge him “authority” in my life, and I appreciate all of his hard work, how he goes about being protective makes it appear that he has no confidence in me and doesn’t trust me in the big things. He also … and this part really was hard for me to talk to him about … well, when he showed off with SueLinda it hurt me. I didn’t want to admit it but it felt good to fess up to it and tell him how the spectacle made me feel. It hasn’t made me necessarily trust him any less – I don’t really expect he would have taken it all the way just to spite me – but at the same time now it is harder to trust him emotionally with the big stuff.

Oh gosh, writing it out sounds so stupid but … it’s just I’ve never had the chance to be vain about my looks. I never got asked out on a regular date, or to a school dance, or had the chance to wear a really pretty dress and heels, or superficial stuff like that. I know I don’t look bad precisely but I never will call myself pretty in a traditional kind of way. My eyes have a funny slant to them, my nose is small, and my mouth and teeth are big; don’t even get me started on all my scars. Sure, my eyes are green most of the time but sometimes they are just plain brown like my hair. I’m short and top heavy and the two don’t make for such a great combination when you are trying to find clothes that fit. About the only thing I don’t have any complaint about is my ears though I guess those can be pretty important since they stick on either side of your head. But nice looking ears don’t mean much when my ADP is acting up.

I thought I was over worrying that Rand would get turned off by how I look but now, I don’t know. SueLinda is one of those classic beauties. Even the rough life she has chosen doesn’t seem to have changed her looks that much. Her hair is a honey blonde that didn’t come out of a bottle. She’s got great skin, perfectly straight white teeth and these incredible blue eyes. And she’s tall. Why did she have to be tall? Tall and willowy with just enough on both ends so that she looks like a woman ought to look.

When I finally got up my courage to say something to him – he is awful persistent when he sets his mind to talking things out – and told him she made me feel like a gnome, and not necessarily the cute garden variety either, he blew a gasket. Of all the things to get mad about this had to be the strangest in my opinion. He wasn’t mad at me either, he was mad at himself. I won’t write about what came next – that’s between Rand and I – all I will say is that he made me feel better. I still feel like a fat heffalump but it really kinda seems that Rand is partial to fat heffalumps so there it is.

As far as the rest of it goes, some of what Rand is feeling is fear. He’s more scared about me being pregnant than he has let on and that was hard for him to fess up. He didn’t like admitting it because he feels like he is somehow letting me down, somehow being weaker than he should be. And the stuff that happened to Laurabeth, well that just has him in knots. He knows good and well what the risks are and he knows if something happens to him I’m going to be in a bad way and he just doesn’t know how to make it better. That stuff does bother me but kind of in a distant way. There isn’t much I can do about it so I just stuff it in a mental closet and deal with what I can do something about. I think part of the problem is that there’s no one around to tell him that it is going to be OK and that if something does go wrong there will be a hospital and doctors and nurses that will help fix things.

I’m not sure what we can do to make the scary parts better but I told him that I’d rather do something concrete like make lists and gather supplies for the birth and the baby than to have him trying to do something about me and for me all the time. More letting me participate in the doing and less gilded bars. Sometimes it feels like my spirit is suffocating and that isn’t good for either of us though I hadn’t admitted that even to myself. And I have a feeling that keeps wiggling around like a maggot in my brain so that I can’t ignore it that Rand and I are going to need each other more than ever, that he is going to have to let me help whether he likes it or not.

We thought that our problems had gotten just as bad as they could get and that we were turning the corner so that we could start improving our lot. The swap meets, the businesses that are springing up, the garden, all of the work he is being contracted to do; and even Austin coming to live with us are all improvements over the way things have been. But it looks like we are about to experience more hard times; or maybe that is dangerous times.

With the thawing of the north, a lot of refugees have come to find that the food programs that some politicians had promised them are never going to materialize. They are hungry, cold, malnourished, sick … you name it it’s out there. Just like when massive numbers of people left the big cities when the rumors of imminent nuclear war occurred, stripping the land like locusts of anything they could get their hands on, there is now another exodus occurring. This exodus has nothing to do with cities and has to do with weather and natural resources. Many thousands of survivors of the pandemic have died over the winter from the cold; just as many have died of disease and the lack of advanced medical interventions. Starvation took no small number as well.

The retched refugees of winter are heading south in some mistaken belief that places like Florida have some magical formula that will cure their ills, that the resources are somehow just laying around waiting to be salvaged. To the contrary, we are having enough trouble feeding ourselves and storing enough for later, how are we supposed to take care of anyone else, especially the large numbers that are expected to head this way? The federal government has already taken over most of the commercial citrus groves here in Florida for the benefit of the active duty personnel. Out west, commercial grain fields are being managed by the feds. Commercial dairies and livestock have met the same fate. We’ve heard via the radio that some farmers do their best to hide their livestock so that it can’t be requisitioned by the feds in their redistribution of resources mandates.

Rand worries a little about the fields of veggies and grains we are trying to grow because if the feds start using satellite imaging or airplanes to find crops then we are in big trouble. That sounds so totally sci-fi to me and not more than a little paranoid. I’m not sure what to say about it, how to respond when he brings it up. I suppose it is possible but still, if they are basically laying off the military would they really still be capable of pulling that kind of stunt on what amounts to your basic subsistence farmer? It’s really a weird thought for me to wrap my head around.

I’m not sure what we can do. Rand is talking about some type of perimeter to that covers all 120 acres that we now call ours. I just can’t imagine it. Parts of the new eighty acre square are already bordered with large cedar trees that were planted along the fence row. There is also a section of that fencing that it would take a tractor to get through because of all the saw brier and Devil’s Walking Stick all tangled together. Sections of fence along the original forty are like that as well. And we are fairly hidden back in here … but hungry people are desperate people and if someone overhears something or even just stumbles over our location we could be in big trouble.

But I just can’t spend all day worrying about all of that. I know we need to do something and Rand has a couple of ideas, but it isn’t going to happen overnight no matter how badly Rand might want it to. There just aren’t enough hours in the day much less people committed to seeing it gets done.

I wanted to distract Rand from his worries for a little while at least and I was kind of starving by the time it came to prepare dinner so I made a pan of polenta lasagna. It seemed as good a way as any to start transitioning to using more whole grains instead of refined foods. I mean I had already been doing that all along but it’s been hard to give up the habit of using fine white flour for everything.

First you have to make the polenta and you do this by taking four cups of boiling water in a medium sausce pan and slowly adding one and a half cups of yellow cornmeal, stirring constantly with a wire whisk. Then you reduce the head to low and stir in four teaspoons of finely chopped fresh marjoram. Thank goodness my pots of herbs didn’t get destroyed by the freezes we had. You simmer that for fifteen to twenty minutes or until the polenta thickens and pulls away from the sides of the pan. Spread the polenta in a 13 x 9 inch ungreased baking sheet and cover and chill it for one hour while you make the rest of the dish. This firms it up.

You make the rest of the dish by heating oil in a skillet over medium heat. You are going to cook and stir one pound of fresh mushrooms (Mrs. Withrow sent these over as the boy who lives with her had picked way more than they could use), some chopped onion, , and a clove of minced garlic for five minutes or until vegetables are crisp tender. You are supposed to stir in one half cup of mozzarella cheese but I had to use the white farmer’s cheese that I make and it was a reasonable substitute especially after I also added two tablespoons of fresh chopped basil, one tablespoon of fresh chopped oregano, and an eighth of a teaspoon of fresh ground black pepper.

The next part I cheated on a little bit. I took Momma’s old blender and snuck up to the dormer room with it. The blender help two medium red bell peppers, chopped and seeded, fresh from the green house and a quarter cup of water. I plugged the blender into the inverter and ran it just long to get them smooth. I could have done it by hand with that old hand mixer of Mom’s but I was tired.

While your oven is heating to around 350 degrees F spray a 11 x 7 inch baking pan with non-stick spray or grease it, whatever you have to do to keep things from sticking. Cut the cold polenta into twelve squares and arrange six of them in the bottom of the prepared dish. Spread half of the bell pepper puree and then half of the vegetable mixture on top of that; and then sprinkle a little Parmesan cheese if you have it. Place the remaining six polenta squares on top of that layer and then top that with the remaining pepper and vegetable mixtures and sprinkle a little more cheese on top. You bake this mess for about twenty minutes or until the cheese is melted and the exposed pieces of polenta are golden brown. It is filling and very good. The funny thing is that I never had to explain to Rand and Austin that there weren’t any tomatoes in the lasagna, they didn’t even seem to notice; red was red and good was good.


March 11th – Doing laundry isn’t exactly a breeze but it sure is easier with the new set up Rand built, I was done in less than half the time it used to take and that was with the extra laundry that Austin creates. That left me time to work in the garden a bit and to get back to planning which I did while I pressed our clothes for the church service tomorrow. Rand is dreading it something awful. I sympathize with him, I really do, but at the same time there is a part of me that is secretly hoping that if he gets any pinches from anyone it reinforces that messing around to try and get me to react could backfire big time. And now I’ll shut up about that spiteful part of me; I really don’t need to encourage it any.

In the original garden patch things are growing really well, even better than last season. The new garden areas aren’t growing as well but they still aren’t anything to sneeze at. The part of the equation though that I hadn’t taken into account as much as I should is that there is only one of me and that one is getting fatter and slower by the day. Austin is a big help but I feel so foolish sometimes having to tilt this way and that to see what is just at my feet.

Funny thing happened after we finally went to bed last night. I was three-quarters asleep with Rand’s arm draped over me when he sits up, jerks the covers off me, turns the lamp on in my face and almost shouts, “It moved!” Not particularly happy to be ripped out of near sleep I still started laughing at the look on Rand’s face.

“Duh! I told you he’d been moving around for a while.”

“Yeah. Yeah … but …”

“Uh, you going to be sick or something? Your face looks awful funny.”

“Ha … ha … ha. It just startled me is all. Make it do it again.”

“OK, one our baby is not an ‘it’ and two, he moves when he feels like it.”

“How do you know it’s a boy?”

“I guess I don’t but that’s better than calling the baby an ‘it.’”

I lay down and went back to sleep. I don’t know how long Rand stayed up waiting for the baby to move again. Now every time I turn around he’s there putting his hands on my stomach. It’s a little embarrassing but if it makes him happy. But if he does that in front of anyone else I think I may just have to whack him with a broom or something to knock some sense back into him.


March 12th – I got lots of sympathy at the church service today and Rand got a lot of kidding. Well, most of it was kidding; Momma O and Mrs. Withrow had him flanked and really laid into him for about a good fifteen minutes. Missy was barely speaking to him until I asked her to knock it off. It still took her a while to warm up to him but I think I managed to get everything smoothed out. Well, smoothed out with everyone but Laurabeth and even that seems like it isn’t quite as bad as it used to be.

Laurabeth doesn’t look good. I can’t imagine that is a surprise all things considered but it goes beyond just her physical appearance. I don’t know how to put into words but if there was such a thing as an energy vampire I would say that she’s a victim of one that has a deep hold on her. For long moments of a time I could see the old Laurabeth trying to peak through, trying to come back to life and then something would set her off and it would look like she would lose the will to live; twice when she didn’t think anyone was looking something twisted and sick looked out at the world wearing Laurabeth’s face. Then I saw Ron bend down and pick Stevie up from her lap and it startled her back to herself.

Alicia, Missy, and I found a quiet spot and did some talking. The men left us alone because they thought we were talking about birthing and babies. The women left us alone because they thought it was family checking to see if Rand and I had really patched things up. It was family trouble all right, just not about Rand and I. Uncle George and Ron Harbinger are having a … well, calling it a disagreement right now isn’t really what is going on but it is something. They each have their own idea on how to help Laurabeth.

Missy said her dad is going down the same road he took with Janet. He’s being super protective to the point where you can see she has no reason to try to get better. He makes all kinds of excuses for her behavior and generally would rather warn people off than deal with Laurabeth’s problems. Ron on the other hand keeps trying to tug her in the other direction, hold her accountable for her actions, force her to participate in constructive things going on around her. He doesn’t abuse her but he does take the baby away from her when she appears to be in certain moods or behaving in a certain way.

Missy wanted to know what I thought. She just flat out said that since I’d been in therapy before I should have some opinion on it. For about two seconds I wanted to hit her but in the end I figure Missy is just blunt to a fault and considering I’m pretty much like that myself I would be a hypocrite for objecting at this point. So I told them. My honest opinion is that Ron has the better approach than Uncle George. It may seem cruel and maybe he’ll need to watch that he doesn’t go all stick-and-carrot all the time, but letting Laurabeth just get away with things because we pity her is not healthy. She’s grieving and may even be unbalanced, I don’t know, but reinforcing bad behaviors isn’t going to help her.

When I asked them why, if Uncle George was so sure that his way was best, he didn’t kick Ron out of the house they said it was because of Stevie.

Alicia whispered, “Laurabeth needs Stevie and Stevie needs Laurabeth. Uncle George knows it and Ron knows it. There have been other women that offered to wet nurse Stevie but Ron … it’s weird … it’s like he is doing everything he can in spite of how Laurabeth is acting to make sure that Stevie can stay with her.”

Missy added, “Weird isn’t the word for it. I was worried that he was trying to turn Laurabeth into Julia and flat out asked him about it.”

“Missy!” Alicia gasped, shocked.

I was thinking kudos to Missy for caring to do it. She said, “Well, what I was supposed to do? Wait until something bad happened and then make some kind of excuse for why I didn’t? So I asked him. It’s one of the few times lately that I’ve seen him lose that stone marble look off of his face. You know how slow he talks lately, like he’s struggling to get every syllable out. ‘No. No, I wouldn’t do that to her. I messed up with Julia and it cost her her life even if it took the long way around for it to happen. I … I don’t want to hurt Laurabeth but I think … Stevie needs her … my son needs Laurabeth and she needs him. I just want to fix it so my son gets what he needs and since Laurabeth is what he needs then I’m going to do my best for her too so that she can be there for Stevie.’ I have to tell you I never thought I would here those kinds of words out of the mouth of a Harbinger, much less Ron Harbinger.”

“God moves in mysterious ways,” I muttered after a second.

“Oh Lord girl, don’t go all Amen pew on us!”

I had to laugh at the expression on Missy’s face. “No, not really. It’s just something I can remember one of grandmother’s sisters saying pretty regular. But you have to admit it’s true.”

“True or not I still don’t understand why it had to happen much less why it had to happen to Laurabeth, she was the best of us. She was always the good girl and did everything dad expected her to and then some.”

“Sometimes asking why doesn’t help. There are some things that we just won’t understand here on Earth I think. I had to stop asking why my family had to di;, it was making it too hard for me to live. I haven’t forgotten about them or anything like that but I had to accept their deaths and … and … get rid of the chains I had wrapped myself up in. Now I can have the memories of them with me all the time without the pain the chains used to cause.”

Alicia said, “Kiri, I wish there was some way that you could talk to Laurabeth.”

“I’m no one special Alicia. And besides, Laurabeth isn’t ready. She has the right to grieve and no one should try and take that away from her. Eventually she’ll get to the point … “

“Talking about me behind my back? Not very sisterly,” Laurabeth sneered in a dead sounding voice.

Missy and Alicia were actually afraid and that’s probably what gave me the courage to turn around and confront Laurabeth. She had Stevie in her arms.

“Sorry Laurabeth. It’s hard not to talk about the people you care about when you are worried about them.”

She kept the mulish expression on her face but she looked less like she wanted a fight. “Well don’t. How would you know how I feel anyway? You’ve still got your husband and baby … and I hate you for it. Hate you, hate you, hate you.”

“I expected as much. But since I lost my parents and little brother, my aunt and uncle, and who knows how many other family members since I haven’t heard from them you are being more than a little blind if you really can’t see how I would know how you feel.”

“Oh shut up, it’s not the same at all.”

“It might not be exactly the same but it does give me a point of reference. And all I have to do is imagine what you must be going through and I get all messed up in the head.”

My admission threw her off her stride and she just tucked Stevie into the crook of her arm a little more securely. Ron came up and asked, “If you’re tired I’ll take Stevie for a little while.”

“No! No. I … I’m fine. A little walk did me good and see? And Stevie looks like he enjoyed it too.”

Ron just stared at her. “OK. But you didn’t tell your dad where you were going and he got worried. You shouldn’t do that.”

“Oh, I just forgot. I won’t forget again Ron. I won’t.”

“Don’t tell me that, tell him. Come on, I’ll walk back with you. You haven’t eaten any lunch yet and you’re looking pale again.”

After they left Missy turned to me and said, “See what we mean? That can’t be normal.”

“Maybe not but I don’t think Ron means any harm in it. He does seem to have her best interests at heart even if it is for Stevie’s sake.”

Alicia said, “Uh oh.”

We both looked to see what was up and a bunch of the men were congregated around a radio Mr. Coffey’s son had brought. Atlanta is burning.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 85

March 13th – I felt better today than I have in a long time with absolutely no reason for that to be true. Go figure. On the other hand I’ve gotten quite a bit accomplished or at least started and that offsets the news we heard on the radio.

When I said yesterday that Atlanta was burning I meant that literally. Some type of major explosion occurred downtown and then spread outwards from there, igniting all that hadn’t already burned before in the previous riots. The Nation of Islam headquarters is rumored to have been the original target and was destroyed in the initial explosion and who knows how many lives have been lost over the last couple of days. They say evidence of the fire can be seen for miles in all directions but since we are five hours away from Atlanta’s location … or should I say where Atlanta used to be … there is no way we are going to see it go up.

Unlike us, Georgia has been dry as a bone and even a small spark floating on the breeze will ignite another fire if it lands on fertile ground, and most ground is ripe for a fire in Georgia right now, the cold, dry winter only dried things out even more than the drought had.

Mr. Henderson and Ram think that the fire may slow the migration out of the north for a while but after that it may actually increase the numbers heading this direction since there will be even less salvageable goods along the main I75 corridor. Ram also expects some retaliation by some militant groups and it looks like the local troops are preparing for the possibility. There have been all types of conjecture on what caused the explosion but due to its size nothing quite sounds right yet. The best one yet was one that I heard Bill and Ram formulate standing by the wagon. They think that a previously planted terrorist bomb was accidentally activated … either through tampering or through some other type of accident.

The men … and a few of the women … could have talked that subject to death for the rest of the day but we all had to head home. We had to listen to it all through lunch and clean up and then I had to listen to Rand’s wonderings off and on through the rest of the day. He listened to the radio late into the night; I had intended on staying up with him but I fell asleep in spite of myself.

We woke to find that Austin and Woofer had snuck into our room during the night and had slept at the foot of the bed. I was worried that he was sick but he said he’d had a dream the house was on fire and then couldn’t go back to sleep. I looked at Rand who nodded his head and he eased up on the talk today. Austin still asked if he could camp out in our room and since it has been storming pretty bad for several hours now we told him one more night then it was back to a real bed so he could get some rest. He’s down there now. We could make him more comfortable but Rand is worried that if we do that we will only give him more reason to want to sleep in our room instead of his. He said that Mick had gone through a stage like that and it had taken him and Brendon forever to get him to go back to his own bed because they kept making it so easy on him to sleep in their room.

This morning I decided it was time to shake off whatever has been holding me down. Rand and I are working on seeing what the other needs and not just assuming we know and while that gets a little silly on occasion we are doing better. That’s a relief and then some. I even managed to make Rand get a little … um, touchy feely … out in the barn when I brought him some cold mint tea as he stacked the wood that he and Austin had been chopping.

After a bit of his silliness – Austin had gone inside to grab some oatmeal cookies from the jar I try to keep filled with snacks and such – Rand said, “You look like you are feeling better.”

“I do feel better.”

“Really?”

“Yes really so stop worrying so much. What do you have planned for the rest of the day?”

“I’m going to have Austin muck the stables and clean out the chicken run while I run the cultivator. I want to get our stuff squared away for a couple of more days and then I have about six people who want to barter for work. I almost hate to do it because it means taking time away from our own projects but …”

“I know, it means getting stuff in trade that we won’t have to grow ourselves. How are the grain fields looking?”

“Better than expected all things considered. We’ve lost some places here and there but now that I know where the low spots are I can avoid putting seed down in those areas. Say a month, give or take a few days, and we should be able to harvest and then turn around and get ready to plant several fields in sorghum. We just need to get some dry weather.”

Austin came out and we all set out to do the work we had set for ourselves this day. Rand and Austin wanted to bring in one more load of wood … I can go through some wood when the canners are going … and I headed into the house to make Hoppin’ John Soup for lunch.

Fix some rice, the thicker you want the soup the more rice you add. Brown up a little sausage, about a quarter pound, and I made that from fresh squirrel sausage that I had mixed up yesterday and put into the cooler. To the drained sausage I added half cup of chopped onion, a half pound of peeled and chopped turnips, two peeled and chopped carrots, a half teaspoon of salt and a half teaspoon of ground pepper. Brown all of this over medium and then turn it down and simmer it for about seven minutes. Next add three pints of chicken broth, one pint of canned black eyed peas, and a pint of chopped mustard greens. Simmer another ten minutes and add a half teaspoon of dried red pepper flakes right before serving. The soup and a pan of cornbread more than held the three of us over until dinner at which time I planned to have a nice surprise; but first it was on to getting things ready for the swap meet this Saturday where I planned to barter with or without Rand’s help.

Today’s activity was making rice mixes. They are really easy and I think they’ll make me some good points to use at the Shack. Here are the recipes that I use:

Onion Rice Mix:
4 cups uncooked rice
1 envelope onion soup mix
1/4 cup dried minced onion
1 tablespoon parsley
1/2 teaspoon salt

Lemon-Dill Rice Mix:
4 cups uncooked rice
1/4 cup grated lemon peel
1/4 cup powdered chicken soup base
2 tablespoons dill
1 tablespoon chives
1/2 teaspoon salt

Vegetable Rice Mix:
4 cups uncooked rice
1 envelope vegetable soup mix
2 tablespoons dried minced onion
2 tablespoons dried minced celery
2 tablespoons dried minced bell pepper
1 tablespoon parsley
1 teaspoon salt

Spanish Rice Mix:
4 cups uncooked rice
1/2 cup Mexican seasoning mix
1/2 cup dried corn
2 tablespoons parsley
1 tablespoon basil

Herb Rice:
4 cups uncooked rice
1/2 cup instant nonfat dry milk
1/4 cup dried minced celery
2 tablespoons parsley
2 tablespoons thyme
1 tablespoon marjoram

Combine ingredients specified for each different mix. Store mixes in an airtight container on the shelf for up to 4 months. I bagged the mixes two cups of rice at a time and we have plenty of rice so it isn’t hurting us to barter it.

While I was doing this I fixed a whole wheat soy pizza crust. We’ve got a lot of soy beans thanks to Missy though she told me yesterday when she brought me by a big bag of lace scraps that she’s been trading a whole lot more of them after she hung the directions for making soy milk on the bulletin board. I guess I could give her this recipe too.

You dissolve one tablespoon of yeast in one cup of warm water and let it sit until it starts to get foamy. Then you add one quarter cup of soy flour and one and one quarter cup of whole wheat flour and mix it until well combined. Then you stir in one teaspoon of salt (I used sea salt). I covered the bowl with cheesecloth and let it rise in a warm place for forty-five minutes.

Then you lightly oil a twelve-inch pizza pan and then press your dough out to the edges of the pan. You bake it for fifteen minutes or until the edges are brown and crisp and then take it out and top it with the ingredients you want, put it back in the oven until your toppings are finished and there you have it … whole grain pizza. Next time I may just have to make two the way Rand and Austin inhaled the pizzas. I was queen for the rest of the night and now I’m off to bed, Rand has promised me a foot massage and a few other things besides.


March 14th – Busy, busy, busy. And too sore and tired to write much. I planted another three rows of bush beans. I’ve been planted a few more rows every week. When the seed pods dry we’ll winnow them and bag the beans up. I can’t help but think that eventually this will be a really good food supply for us personally and to barter … maybe even export if we can get enough growing to make it worth our while. Also had to hoe the other rows if things that are coming up. The mulch I have laid down this time is helping considerably but I notice there is more weeding to be done than there was when I was planting more sustainably using the square-foot method. Each method has its pros and cons but it will be harvest that will really determine which method I use in the planting seasons to come.


March 15th – I don’t know how and I don’t know when but Fraidy surprised us by becoming a Momma last night. I had been going under the assumption that she was fixed but apparently not. I haven’t seen any other cat thought several months back I know I heard one. Rand found her nest up in the loft first thing this morning. She’s extremely protective but Rand was able to take her some food scraps without her fritzing out too much and in the end she practically inhaled what he left for her. She has seven kittens in her nest and I’m not sure what we are going to do with them all. I’d like to keep one but we’ll have to see.

Today’s mixture to take to the swap meet was instant chai tea. Another one so easy I can’t believe how anyone would think of wanting to trade for it but Missy asked if I had any tea recipes since most people were running out of coffee. In a bowl combine one cup nonfat dry milk powder, one cup powdered non-dairy creamer, one cup French vanilla flavored powdered non-dairy creamer, two and one-half cups granulated sugar, one and one-half cups unsweetened instant tea, two teaspoons ground ginger, two teaspoons ground cinnamon, one teaspoon ground cloves, and one teaspoon ground cardamom. Next I put it in my hand-powered blender and basically pureed the stuff until it was the consistency of a fine powder. That took a while and next time I might cheat again and plug the old blender into the inverter.

Spent a good deal of time sewing and mending, especially socks. I got so irritated that I threw a pair of balled up socks at Rand and demanded that he trim his toenails because I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life trying to darn the same pair of socks over and over again only to have his shovel sharp nails undo the work or make a new hole after the first wear. Austin wears his out in the heel and I think it is because the socks he has are short and he is constantly pulling them up. I ought to know, I’ve got the same bad habit.

I also finished all of the preorders that Missy gave me last time. If it remains at a dozen orders each time then I’ll be able to keep up, any more than that and I’ll be in trouble, especially as soon as the garden really starts taking off which shouldn’t be too much longer from now. I’ve been planting enough stuff that if we go hungry any time in the near future it won’t be because we didn’t put enough work into it.


March 16th – Harvested English peas, cauliflower, and collard greens today in quantity so while I cleaned the house I canned up what I didn’t put in the dehydrator. It used to be that I would dry what I didn’t can but now it is the other way around. The more drying I can do the better. I haven’t broken any jars yet, knock on wood, and my rings are still good but I will eventually run out of lids … not this year, maybe not even next year if I start rationing them, but eventually all things like that will run out unless they start manufacturing them again.

Rand and Austin laughed at me until they both nearly shot milk out of their noses. I don’t care. Fraidy is way up in the loft taking care of seven kittens all on her own. How is she supposed to feed them and stay healthy herself? So I made her a kitty salad. I know it sounds stupid but Ms. Belle had this ancient cat that she would bring to work every once in a while and hide in her office … because of the health department you know. Anyway she swore that the reason her “Tum tum” was still healthy and frisky at nineteen was because she prepared all of his food from scratch and one of the things he really enjoyed was Grass Salad.

You start with a small carrot that you peel and grate, then add one-half cup of chopped fresh sprouts, two teaspoons of freshly chopped parsley, one-half teaspoon fresh chopped catnip, mix that all together just like you would a human salad. Then you sprinkle two tablespoons of vegetable broth over it and toss again. Of course a normal cat won’t eat all of that in one sitting so you give them a little and refrigerate the rest. Rand wasn’t laughing after he saw how eager Fraidy was for it after she figured out what it was.

Poor Woofer just looks up at the loft some times and whines because he knows his friend is up there and doesn’t understand why she won’t come down and go hunting with him. I have a feeling it is going to be interesting to see whether Fraidy tolerates Woofer around the kittens and whether Woofer really understands what the kittens are. We’ll have to be careful. Rand says we have about two months before they are totally weaned but in about a month we should see Fraidy out and about more as she starts the weaning process.

Thinking about Fraidy has made me think about Laurabeth and Stevie. I need to pray for her more. She’s going through something that would surely break me I think. I’ve lived through a lot but I view Rand and this baby as some type of reward for surviving. I really don’t think I could handle them being taken from me. Maybe I shouldn’t think that way. Maybe that makes me weak. I don’t know, and frankly I’m not sure I care. I just don’t want it to happen.

Rand got a couple of braces of quail today with some birdshot. I haven’t had that much to do with cooking quail but Rand said that it can be done basically like chicken only with less cooking time because it is smaller. Well, I have been dying for BBQ chicken. I mean it woke me up in the middle of the night and I basically had to wipe my mouth because it was watering so much. Having cravings is so strange.

But then when it came right down to it every time I tried to clean those birds I couldn’t, my stomach kept heaving. I was getting so mad and do you know what? Austin came to my rescue. I tell you that boy has a cast iron stomach just like Rand; nothing bothers him it seems. He cleaned them and then I split them into halves and grilled them, painting them with some homemade BBQ that I had canned last tomato season. I pan fried some whole kernel corn with plenty of butter, baked some white beans Boston style, and made biscuits. Oh my gosh! We all made pigs of ourselves and it was so good. I know that is bragging on my own cooking but I don’t care. Rand and Austin even helped me clean the dishes up afterward and that just topped it off like a good dessert.


March 17th – Happy St. Patty’s Day. Yeah, I know it’s a little silly but it sure was fun freaking Rand and Austin out at the breakfast table with green scrambled eggs, green biscuits, and green cream for the coffee. I wish I could have gotten a picture of their faces; it was worth using up one of my bottles of green food coloring to do it.

Today is baking day and while my normal bread items were baking or rising I went through more of Momma’s recipe files. It seems that no matter how much time I spend doing this I’m always finding something new and interesting that I want to try.

Actually what I was looking for today was a sourdough starter that you can make out of whole wheat flour. I’m running pretty low on store-bought flour; it is amazing how quickly it goes when you make everything from scratch. That leaves the whole wheat flour that is made from the bags of grain we have in storage. The recipe I finally found even used honey instead of processed sugar.

You take one-half teaspoon of honey, one-half cup of whole wheat flour, and one-half cup of non-chlorinated water. The well isn’t chlorinated so there isn’t any problem there but I did leave it to sit in the window to bring it up to room temperature before using it to mix with. You mix all of that together in a glass jar using a wooden spoon; you can’t use any metal with this recipe. You want a good lid on the jar and then sit it in a warm place where you will stir it twice a day for five days. On the sixth day mix in another half-cup of water and a half-cup of whole wheat flour and mix together well, cover it and let it sit in a warm place for one day to ferment. When it gets lots of bubbles and foam on top the yeast is ready to use.

The sourdough starter will separate when it sits; you just need to mix it back together before using. Momma recommended covering it with waxed paper secured with a rubber band and putting it in the frig where you only need to feed it weekly. You take half of the starter out to use in you baking and then add half a cup of water and half a cup of flour to keep it going. Sounds simple, let’s see if it actually works.

I hope tomorrow is a good day. I haven’t had too much luck at the swap meets as far as them being good days for me. Some of that is my fault, I won’t hide from the truth. But on the other hand not all of it has been my fault. I would like to prove to myself that the swap meets aren’t a bad place for me to go, that I can function normally in such a crowded setting. Yes, I do much better in small groups but I have to be able to be at least semi-normal around large groups of people.

It is raining again tonight, not as badly was the other night but enough that it will be muddy in the morning. We’ve got a bad place forming up at the gully for the higher than average rainfall. Rand has already laid the rock on the slope so it isn’t from erosion. It’s like the water is trying to bubble up through the road. The water isn’t that high in the gully though it is higher than normal. I think, from looking at it, that it might actually be from the other side. The people on that side used to go mud bogging right there and it caused deep ruts and pits in the ground that nothing wants to grow in. The ground might be compacted and not letting the water perk down, especially if there is clay under the sand. You walk over there and it is like walking on a sponge, the water just squishes up out of the ground.

Rand has tried digging a ditch on the side of the road opposite side from the gully but it just fills with water and doesn’t really do much to help. We’ve dumped some more lime rock on it that Rand hauled in from the old concrete plant but it is still like pudding in a couple of places.

The last thing we’ve done seems to have helped the most but make cause the most grief in the long haul. There were some small pines that he took out recently when opening up the new orchard area. He was going to chop it up for fat wood and fire starters but instead he cut the top and bottom off of them and laid them down across the road right there. It is kind of like a corduroy road but at least it keeps the wagon from sinking every time it is driven over that bad place.

Hopefully it will last long enough that we can get things a little better dried out so we don’t have the pudding effect anymore. I walked up there with Rand and we were getting close to the bad spot when Rand suddenly went down to his knee in mud … that’s the pudding effect. Actually it is the consistency of a thick cake batter but pudding sounds better when you are describing it to other people. We aren’t the only ones having ground problems. Uncle George had to go pull a cow out of the mud a couple of days ago and Mr. Henderson had a section of wall cave in where water undercut the fence and the weight of the fence section pulled it over. Good thing no one was on the palisade there at the time.

In the past you could just pick up a phone and place an order for some gravel or lime rock to be hauled in, not anymore. It was an all day job when Rand went to the concrete plant that time to get a wagon load for us. He said there were people there with burlap bags strapped to donkeys and mules hauling it back to where ever they were from. Even met a couple of farmers from Gilchrist and Columbia counties. Gilchrist has lots of flooding. Columbia not so much but they’ve got problems with transients coming out of the south. Looks like we are going to be seeing people from both directions. I just hope they have their good manners on and that they’ll leave us alone.
 

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 86

March 18th – Well, the swap meet was what it was; some good, some bad. When we got up and got going this morning the road was as bad as we expected it to be. The only place on the road in that the road was bad was right there at the gully but there were a couple of places on the forty that had developed a bad habit of holding water. Rand said he and Austin would dig a couple of them out to see if there was clay underneath and if it was worth trying to dig the clay out, if not they’d haul in some more lime rock.

Our road wasn’t the only one in sad shape. A road crew hasn’t been out to do any kind of road repair in well over a year now. Some of the road bed is showing through in places on the county roads and the highways. Of course, explosions and fires have exactly helped the conditions of the roads. After a particularly bad stretch I asked Rand to let me out and I would walk. He thought I was joking until he turned around and saw me holding my belly. He got upset and said he should have brought the buggy because at least it had a little bit of suspension but I reminded him that if he made any large purchase there wouldn’t be anything to put it in with the buggy.

Lucky for me the road got a little smoother the closer we got to the swap meet area. There was a bad dip where we had to leave the road but that was it. I still had to make a dash to the outhouses that had been dug. I swear it is just plain embarrassing how often I have to stop and go to the bathroom these days. Missy warned me that is only going to get worse until after the baby is born and everything goes back where it is suppose to. Isn’t that just jolly.

I pulled up and it took me a second to get ready to get out of the wagon. I hid the fact that my side was burning by acting like I was gathering stuff up but I only fooled Austin. Rand leaned over the wagon side and asked quietly, “You OK? You want to …”

“I’m fine. I just feel stupid is all.”

“That isn’t all, you’re hurting again aren’t you.”

Rather than lie I told him, “Some … but it will go away, it always does. Look, that … that SueLinda … she’s not around is she?”

“Why? Oh. Babe, don’t let what she said get to you please … please. I know it’s selfish to ask you to forget about what I did last time I …”

“Rand, that’s already forgotten. I just don’t feel like being embarrassed when she points out how fat I am. I can’t even fit into the overalls anymore and, well, you know what I mean.”

“One, you aren’t fat you’re pregnant. Two, you’re pregnant with my baby. Three, you looked dang sexy to me … as a matter of fact if you want to go on home …”

“Now you are just being silly … but thank you. I really don’t know why I care what anyone says, it’s not like it’s ever mattered. I just don’t … I … this is stupid, I just don’t want her to see my big fat behind trying to get out of the wagon again.”

“Aw Babe. Look, I don’t know why I didn’t think about it but next time I’ll figure out some steps or something. But, I like being able to hold you so everyone in the world can see … “

“Rand! What if someone sees?!”

“Let ‘em. We’re married.”

“What is wrong with you?!” I asked him turning bright red as he finally put me on the ground and stood in front of me so I could fix my clothes. I swear lately every time we start talking about my belly he starts thinking about you know what. Missy noticed later in the day and I like to have died; but she only laughed and said Bill was the same way. I asked her if it was pheromones or something scientific like that. She said no, that it was testosterone and guys were just impressed with their fertility or something equally obnoxious. I don’t really mind it I just wish he wouldn’t do it out in public. People already look at me like I’ve got three heads, I don’t want them thinking that Rand is crazy and that’s just exactly what they’ll think. I mean, why else would he act like that?

But that was later, first we had to actually get into the swap meet. They had to move it further away from the parking area so that they could enlarge the vendor area. And instead of a horseshoe shape or circle they now had aisles to walk up and down. I’m not sure I like it but it certainly let’s more folks set up booths in a certain amount of space. They put Bill and Missy’s place and Clyde’s trailer on the very outside since they generated so much business but folks still got all bunched up.

Austin went off to hang out with some of the boys – the father of the boy that was a scout master had promised to teach them to shoot a bow and arrow – in an area that had been specifically roped off away from the vendors and the fast food carts. There was also another roped off area and it was specifically for the little kids; that was next to an area that Pastor Ken had set up. The kids had organized games as well as free play while their parents could talk to Ken if they felt the need. Some of the men and women just came to watch the kids play. Ken had said that for most of the watchers it was a healthy way to deal with their grief … a lot of children and grandchildren had been lost to the flu.

Rand and I looked at the new way the vender tables were set up and we decided to drift back to where Missy and Bill had their trailer set up. Missy called me behind their table and in the pretense of paying attention to Billy … not that I didn’t think he was a cut butterball … I handed off the pre-orders to her. “Do you know that I could have gotten two dozen orders for that lingerie already?”

I looked at her and then asked, “So what’s the rest of the story? It isn’t like you or Bill to turn down a deal.”

“I recognized the woman. She works for SueLinda. Profit or not I don’t want anything to do with her so called business. And even if she wasn’t into that kind of trade I’d pass on it, family sticks together.”

“Oh Missy,” I whispered. “I don’t want you and Bill to …”

“Don’t sweat it girl. It’s about family. Besides, how would it look if I was to start making money – even if it was indirect – off of that kind of trade? I can’t afford the hassle I would get from Momma O and Mrs. Withrow much less the rest of our female customers.” That made me smile. Missy really would have done it just because of family … but it didn’t hurt that her decision was reinforced by making it a good business decision.

“What’s in the other basket?” she asked me.

“Just some stuff to use for trade. If I can’t use it I’ll bring it back and see if you can use any of it here.”

Rand and I took off to look at the different tables but then he looked at me, “Do you … um … do you mind that we are hanging out together?”

I looked at him confused at first and then realized what he was trying to do. “Rand I like spending time with you. If you are with me because you want to be that’s good … but don’t feel that you have to if you want to go off and talk to the men.”

“Weeellllll … how about we walk through the next aisle and then I’ll take off over to there and you can … you know … do your thing.”

I smiled to let him know that it was a plan.

“Well if it isn’t the two love birds.”

The morning had been pretty good until she showed up. Rand was really angry really fast … about as fast as I’ve ever seen him get mad but I still managed to grab him before he popped off. I did something I don’t normally do and got up under his arm like he had it draped around my shoulders then leaned my head against him and said, “Brrr, where did that wind come from? Let’s move Honey, it smells kind of … odd. I don’t think where ever it is coming from is too healthy.”

Rand looked at me and scrunched his eye brows but after a second gave me a half smile and we kept walking, ignoring SueLinda. She didn’t like that at all but the older woman that was with her grabbed her arm and they changed directions and walked in the opposite direction we did. The first table I stopped at was a stationery booth. They had all sorts of paper, envelopes, writing tablets, pencils and erasers, and mechanical pens. But they also had quills, glass dip pens, and bamboo dip pens. Best of all they had inks, some store-bought but most of them looked homemade. It was like going Christmas shopping.

But they wanted what I thought was a whole lot for their inks … a whole lot. They were even trading in Sand Dollars which is how much they wanted for their wares. Besides, we had things that we needed and that ink was just a want. Momma O and her family were running a booth trading seeds and seedlings and were doing a brisk business. That wasn’t what I was after so I waved and kept going.

I passed booths trading tools, building materials, scrap metal bits and pieces like flashing (I wrote down who it was to tell Rand about it), block and tackle, fishing gear, then I caught up with Rand who was standing looking at a table full of feed samples. I touched him on the arm and he introduced around and all the men were mannerly and tipped their hats if they had them, nodded their head if they didn’t.

“Babe, didn’t you say that you could make millet into flour or into a cereal?”

“Well … yeah. And you had millet cereal for breakfast the other day.”

The man behind the counter said, “I never heard of making flour out of it but me da’ told me of eating the stuff back during the Depression when they didn’t have nothing else ter eat. He wouldn’t touch the stuff for anything else but animal feed after that.”

I stuck close to Rand but felt forced to reply, “It is a bit like eating birdseed until you get used to it but I use millet flour to make the little wheat flour we have go further. You can do the same thing with soy beans – like those you have there – of course the flour they make doesn’t have any gluten in it but there are some people that can’t have gluten anyway.”

“Well then Missus Joiner, how do ye make the millet flour.”

“The easiest way is to toast the seeds in a skillet a little, cool them all the way, and then grind them. The longer you grind them the finer the flour. You can get it just about as fine as cornstarch if you have the arm for it. If I was making pastry dough I’d take the time to do that but since I just use it for bread I don’t both grinding it that fine.”

I heard one man say to another, “Have to tell the wife, she’s on me about needing flour every time I turn around and the wheat is dat blamed expensive.”

Another man with a two-year old strapped to his back in a carrier asked, “What about that cereal, can you feed it to little kids?”

“Sure, they eat the stuff in lots of places around the world. In a dry skillet toast about a half cup of whole millet seed. Put the toasted millet in a bag and then roll them with a rolling pin until they are ground as fine as you want them. In a saucepan bring one and a half cup of water to a boil and add the ground millet, a pinch of salt, a half teaspoon of ground cinnamon, a pinch of ground nutmeg, and a half teaspoon of ground cardamom. Turn the heat down to simmer, cover and then simmer for fifteen minutes. If all of the water is absorbed before the cereal is tender then add a tablespoon or two of water at a time until you get the consistency that you want.”

The man was looking pretty desperate and said, “Could you write that down?”

I looked at Rand but he only grinned, “Um, I guess, sure.” I pulled out my handy dandy notepad – I never leave home without it – and copied it out like I had said it. After Rand and I drifted away I found out the man had lost his wife to the flu was raising the baby girl who was two, and two little boys who were five and six years old. There had been another little boy who would have been three but he died with his mother. The poor man has his hands full.

“He was seeing a woman from Columbia County, a friend of his wife’s who lost her husband around the same time he lost his wife, but she up and married a neighbor that didn’t have any kids. I guess she just didn’t want the responsibility of raising another woman’s set of children,” Rand whispered, explaining things to me. “He has a pretty decent place, just doesn’t have the time to develop it much because he has to take care of his little ones.”

I was chewing over that when we finally came to a vendor that I really needed to chat with. Here was the lady that was the spinner and weaver. It wasn’t cheap, it cost a couple of quarts of sorghum, but I came away with several spools of good cotton thread. I knew it was good because it required some strength to break the thread; cheap or loosely spun thread breaks and pulls apart real easy.

Rand kissed the top of my head and took off when he spotted a vendor that was looking to barter a bunch of old tools. Yep, just like my Daddy. I wandered on and then came to a vendor trading books. That’s when I realized that we still hadn’t done anything about schooling for Austin. He wasn’t doing too badly as one of the things that we liked to do at the end of the day was read a book chapter or two out loud. His reading and vocabulary was pretty good if I was any judge. He was learning science and agriculture from Rand. But I wasn’t sure what to do about math beyond the basics of adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing. He needed more than that but the only real school books I had were the highschool level ones that I took months ago out of the first house I salvaged. I added that to my list of wants and not needs … but it could turn into a need if I couldn’t figure out some way around the problem.

A few more vendor tables and I came to the table of the leathersmith. He was selling belts, hats, leather aprons, whips, and a bunch of other stuff. He also made stuff to order. But what really caught my eye were these moccasins. They weren’t just the foot part though, these ran up your legs sort of like boots and had laces that held it in place.

“Excuse me. Sir?”

“Oh … well hello there. You’re Rand Joiner’s wife aren’t you?”

“Yes sir. Um … could you put some kind of sole on those moccasins? Oh aye, it’s the way I wear my own. These hear are just samples I made a few years ago. I ran with the settlers with the Mountain Man re-enactment events. You looking for something for Rand?”

“Actually we have a boy living with us … “

“That’d be Austin?”

“Oh … um … yes.”

“Had the boy staying with us a bit, glad to see he found a family. My sister wanted him, all she has is girls, but with the houseful we have … we just couldn’t offer him anything. You’d be better off letting me repair a pair of old lace up boots for him. The moccasins are great for hunting and staying around the house but with the field work he is doing with Rand he needs the ankle support and the sole to protect his feet. If you bring me a pair we can see what we can work out.”

I’m not stupid, the fact he wasn’t trying to sell me anything and tried to advise me whether he made anything on a deal or not makes him a good ‘un in my opinion. I told Rand later and he said that Mick and Tommy were in the same boat and frankly so was he. We decided to use the trade profit from the pre-orders that I gave to Missy and use it for work boots for Rand and Austin. They didn’t have their sizes today but Missy said she had a couple of pairs at the Shack that might fit, Rand and Austin will just have to go try them on. They are in pretty rough shape so we should be able to pick them up for cheap and then just have them fixed up properly and Rand said he knows the man needs his road from graded so they could probably make a barter for work rather than for goods.

I saw vendors who were selling veggies but nothing dried or anything like that. It made me feel that I still had a good idea about making sure we have enough dried veggies and fruits to barter with during the off season. I have a feeling the apples are going to do killer well but I don’t want to count my chickens before they are hatched.

And speaking of chickens there were two vendors there selling eggs and birds; one had chickens and the other had geese and ducks. My geese are big helpers in the garden, the chickens not so much. The chickens were pecking at everything. I guess they got use to me throwing them scraps and aren’t just interested in bugs but anything they can sink their beaks into. I have yet to have the geese pinch anything but bugs off of the plants. I keep the chickens to their run these days and let the geese into the fenced in garden … except one of them who is sitting her nest. Boy is she testy. I bent over the wrong way and man did I get a pinch.

It was about then that things started getting pretty crowded. I was getting really tired of being bumped around. I didn’t recognized one in ten of the people which told me that maybe it was time for me to scoot back to Missy and Bill’s trailer and wait out the rush. Instead Austin found me first along with Tommy. Neither boy looked happy. Mick, moving slower because he was surrounded by a gaggle of girls and looking so close to panic I nearly laughed out loud, brought up the rear.

“Kiri! Hi!” His eyes pleaded for some help so we stepped off to the side and I started talking to them – I recognized most of them from church – while Mick let Austin and Tommy drag him away as the suddenly lost the gloom on their face.

After they realized their captive had escaped the girls wandered off to find their parents since it was lunch time. Rand’s stomach is as reliable as any clock and his height helped him to find me even in the crowd. He had the boys with him and our picnic basket. “Let’s put the blanket out under the tree over there instead of eating in the wagon. I’ve already checked on Bud and Lou and they’re fine.”

Rand surprised us all by having some smoked catfish filets. “A fella owed me for some mowing I did for him. I figured I’d never see it but he stopped me and gave us this. Said that the road I mowed helped him to get his boat out where it kept getting hung up and now he fishes the river and smokes the fish he catches. Wait boys, let Kiri get a bite first.”

I like some fish but I wasn’t sure why he wanted me to try it first. But win I took a small bite it was divine. I’d never had anything like it. “He smoked this batch with pecan wood. He also has some over there done with oak and maple.”

The filets melted when you ate them. It went perfect with the wilted salad (wilted on purpose with bacon grease), and hardboiled eggs that I had brought. For dessert I brought cookies since I figured that the boys would be around. There was also a ceramic jug of fresh milk to drink. The boys for their part contributed buttered bread and peach preserves and some summer sausage.

Our lunch nearly got trampled by a brawl but Rand jumped up and pushed them off in another direction before disaster struck and Mitch Peters had the two ijits under control not long after that. They’d passed a bottle back and forth just enough to both get stupid. There were a couple of other brawls and SueLinda was told to get her girls under control or leave since they alone had caused three of them by inciting the men to act foolish. She didn’t leave but she did send two of her girls off with that older lady I had seen her with earlier.

I was pretty tired by the time we finished but I was determined to hit all the vendors and I’m glad that I did. It was like walking through the sutler section of a reenactment event. There was a vendor devoted to women’s stuff. They worked the river so while the Shack no longer had a monopoly on some of the lingerie items, this vendor didn’t do pre-orders or “to size” orders which was the niche that I filled. This vendor sold bonnets, parasols, fans, snoods, and aprons. They also sold hair accessories like combs and hair pins.

Other vendors there included tables for candles, horse accessories (run by a Ferrier), rope, housewares, mops and brooms, sewing notions like leather thimbles and buttons, garden tools, and that didn’t even include the people offering to trade their services like blade sharpening, tailor/seamstress, and blacksmithing. I’d seen everything and was looking around for Rand when I spotted him. For about two seconds I thought of just waiting things out but the look on Rand’s face finally drove me to act.

Rand isn’t violent. He’s not passive by any stretch and I’ve seen him lose his temper and get in brawls all right, but more because it is a guy thing rather than a violent streak separate from that. And I’ve never seen him able yet to even push a woman out of his way much less anything more than that. But SueLinda was getting close to being the except ion that proves the rule. The choices that Rand and I had made couldn’t all be laid at her door but she didn’t help and did play a role in the ruckus that occurred. And she was obviously up to her tricks again, though not the kind that most would think considering her current job description.

Rand was trying to ignore her so hard and SueLinda was so intent on her mischief making that neither one noticed me until I’d already swept SueLinda’s legs out from under her and she was sprawled on the ground, very red in the face. “You need to pump up that situational awareness thing SueLinda. The kind of trouble you are constantly trying to cause is going to make you some serious enemies.”

I walked around her – out of arms reach, I’m not that crazy – and stepped into Rand’s one-armed hug with a smile. “Hi,” I said using my best butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth expression.

Thank you God that Rand laughs when most other guys would have lost patience a long time ago. “Hi yourself. You ready to go?”

And we did, arm-in-arm leaving SueLinda to get to her feet and stomp away. Rand said quietly, “I love you. I wish … “

“You wish I hadn’t done anything about SueLinda?”

“No. I wish you hadn’t been put into the position in the first place. I managed to avoid her all day until just now. I wish I knew what her problem was.”

“Does it matter? Apparently there are some girls like that just like there are some guys. They can’t deal with the fact that someone got away, unimpressed by their whatever you want to call it.”

“Yeah, well, SueLinda isn’t a girl. She’s a grown woman and it is doggone embarrassing. Bad enough I made a fool of myself in college and then again a couple of weeks ago, I don’t want to see you get dragged into this.”

I realized then that really was his whole problem with it. She didn’t tempt him, she reminded him of how stupid he had felt the first time around and then how guilty he felt over what happened two weeks ago. Suddenly I didn’t feel threatened by her at all even if she is a real live beauty queen, smart, and worst of all tall and willowy. I laughed right out loud I felt so free. I got a strange look from Rand and some of the other folks that were being nosy but I didn’t care. I didn’t even mind looking silly because I had to have help to get into the back of the wagon, it was all good.

I kept that feeling all the way home and for the rest of the day after we got home. I’m sitting here now still feeling good while I write this in my journal and stuff my face with popcorn. Tomorrow is Sunday and I mostly plan on resting. There are always regular chores but I think tomorrow I’m going to sit down and --- blush --- look through Momma’s baby patterns. I might even crochet some lace if I feel up to it.


March 19th – Yawn, yawn, yawn. I’m tired and the only thing I’ve done today is eat. I’m even going to bed early.


March 20th – Rand is a stinker; a flat out stinker. And I could just kiss him for it.

We had a huge tree fall on the fence line. It wasn’t our tree but one from the property adjacent to us. When it fell … it just kind of keeled over because half of its root ball had died and shrunk … it took down several smaller trees in its way. Brendon and Ron showed up early this morning to help cut the trees back. Thing is Laurabeth was with them. I could tell that Rand hadn’t expected that but there wasn’t much he could say that wouldn’t make things worse.

While the guys went to go do the trees Laurabeth and I were left staring at each other. Then Stevie made a rude noise from the end that babies tend to make rude noises from.

Laurabeth sighed, “That’s a commentary on all the greens that I’ve been eating lately.”

I tried not to be I laughed before I could stop. Laurabeth and I had never been close but she had always been nice to me. After she had changed Stevie we sat down on the porch with Laurabeth rocking the baby and me trying to fix Rand’s sock for the hundredth time.

“Rand still wrecks his socks all to pieces I see.”

“Yeah. I’m thinking of sewing leather on the toe area and heel of all his socks.”

“Wouldn’t do any good; his toenails are like band saws. Daddy used to complain that you could always tell whose socks belonged to who; Rand’s were the ones with holes in the toes and Brendon’s were the ones that were always stretched out at the top where he was always pulling at them.”

Silence fell for a few moments. “Kiri?”

“Hmmm?” I asked while I snipped a piece of thread with my teeth.

“I’m … I’m sorry. Ron … he says … he says he’s sure you aren’t holding anything that I said against me but …”

She surprised me and it must have showed before I could get my blank face on. “Oh, it’s OK. I know I was pretty awful. I don’t … I don’t remember everything. There are great big empty spaces in my head. I … I don’t want to talk what happened but … I do want to apologize for … you know … what people said that I said and … “

“Laurabeth, it’s all right. I spent a long time being … not nice to downright nasty after my family died. Not everyone deals with their grief like that and I hope that if I ever have to … though I pray that I never have to … go through something like that again that I don’t hurt other people just because I’m hurting so bad. So I understand. Thanks for apologizing, I just want you to know that you don’t have to.”

“Yes, yes I do, for my own peace of mind. I can’t leave stuff like that hanging out there, I’ve got enough to … oh God Kiri I miss Jonathon … and the baby … so bad there are days I just dread waking up.”

Well then she started crying and then I started crying and it took a while for us to both stop because every time one of us would the other continued and we’d start up crying all over again. But I don’t know, maybe we both needed to do some crying. I was tired afterwards but it was the kind of tried you get after you’ve emptied stuff out of yourself that it was time you unloaded. I wouldn’t say that Laurabeth and I are any closer than we were before but we both acknowledge that we share something, a depth of pain maybe, and it’s given us some insight into the other.

I’m relieved that she seems to be coming back from wherever she had retreated to in her spirit and told Rand so when they left after lunch – white beans with smoked ham hocks, cornbread, and stewed canned potatoes. “Brendon and Ron told me she was a lot better. I wasn’t sure whether to believe them or not. She still seems … fragile.”

“She is, but she’s more there in her mind than she’s been in a while. She may have setbacks but she I think she is definitely moving forward.”

Then he and Austin took a load of the wood and I thought they had been taking it to Uncle George’s place only it turns out they weren’t . As a matter of fact some birdie or other had been whispering to Rand what vendors that I had been stopping and looking at. I suspect it was the boys but I don’t know for sure, Rand wouldn’t say. I guess he is worried that I think that he is checking up on me but I really don’t. And even if he was it’s not bothering me. So long as I know it isn’t me that he doesn’t trust then I’m kinda OK with him being protective.

When he came home Austin made himself scarce saying he was gonna go check on Fraidy’s kittens. I reminded him not to touch them but that he could pull some grass and take it up to Fraidy if he wanted to. I turned to go back inside to take the cornbread out of the oven and Rand followed me inside. He took the skillet out of the oven for me when I said it was ready and then told me to close my eyes.

“Huh?”

“Just close your eyes.”

I thought he’d found an interesting rock or flower or something and was just playing so I smiled and closed my eyes. He told me to hold out my hands and he put something smooth and cold in my hand. I could tell it was a small jar but it was a funny shape.

He gave me a few moments to feel it and try and guess and then whispered, “Open your eyes.”

It was a jar of ink Before I could even pull a question together he pulled a wooden-handled carpet bag from behind his back and said, “Surprise.”

There were jars of colored inks and packets of ink powder and even a box of nibs for the dip pen I liked to use. “Wait! Where did this come from?”

“I traded the wood.”

“But … but Rand … I didn’t need this … and it … Rand the price … “

“It’s all right Babe. Don’t be upset. The man’s name is Kutchner. He was selling out and we worked a deal yesterday. He wanted to ride one of the passenger boats heading to Steinhatchee but they didn’t want to trade for his ink. What they did want was wood since their boat uses a steam engine. So I traded Kutchner wood for the ink and he traded the wood for passage down south.”

“Oh Rand.”

“There are some of those steno tablets you use out in the wagon in a box with some other odds and ends too.”

“But Rand, I … I didn’t need this. I’ve been doing just fine with the pecan shell ink.”

“I know, and we’ll keep using the homemade ink for everyday but now you have something nice to use in your journal. It seems to make you feel better when you can write.”

“It does but all of that work, cutting the trees out of the fence and into lengths, loading it into the wagon … “

“I wanted to. You do all that sewing and stuff so that we can get what we need from the Shack. You’ve never asked for anything yourself. This time I wanted to do something just for you.”

All I could do was say “Oh Rand” all over again. I’m going to save the colored ink; for what I don’t know, but I’m going to save it. Tomorrow I’m going to make up some of the powdered ink. It is going to feel funny writing in blue again.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 87

March 25th – It’s been a full week since I last had time to sit down and write anything. If it hasn’t been one thing it’s been another. We have a nasty cold running through the house. Austin came down with it first so more than likely he picked it up from some of the boys at the last swap meet and Rand and I got it a couple of days later. As a matter of fact one of the reasons why I’ve stopped long enough to write is because Pastor Ken came by and basically said either I willingly got off my feet or he would order me off my feet. Rand overheard what he said and that’s all she wrote but only because Rand has learned how to handle me. I know he is handling me and he knows that I know he is handling me and also knows the only reason he can get away with that is because I let him. He gives me the pathetic puppy face. He looks so serious sometimes I can’t help but laugh and give in.

Sunday we took the wagon over to Uncle George’s and visited with them for a little while. Laurabeth was a little overwhelmed and I flat out told her that if it was too much I’d ask Rand to leave early. That seemed to draw her up short and she said, “No. Don’t do that. I just … all the noise and sometimes … someone is always watching me and it makes me feel even crazier than I already am. I understand why they’re doing it but I still don’t like it. I hate being stared at. Having more people do it just makes it worse.”

“So long as you’re sure. I hate being stared at too and understand about that. Look,” I said checking to see if anyone was listening. “Um, you wouldn’t happen to mind me asking you some … um … questions would you?”

“About … about what?”

I finally screwed up my courage and said, “Baby stuff.”

“Baby stuff? You mean like … oh … you mean like taking care of them and things like that?”

Relieved she understood I said, “Yes, please. Alicia seems to be living in her own world and only blushes when she thinks anyone is going to talk about that stuff. Missy … well, you know Missy. She’d answer my questions but then she’d be the one making me blush. I just want to talk to someone that has some common sense and won’t make me feel as dumb as a stump.”

For some reason she thought that was funny and it was the first time in a long time I heard her laugh. It wasn’t much of one but it was definitely a laugh. “Sure. Come into the bedroom and if anyone asks I’ll just say I’m changing Stevie. He needs it anyway. So, what did you want to ask?”

“How do you do … that …feed the baby I mean.”

“Oh. Well, they do most of the work. You just have to be careful they don’t make you raw.” My eyes must have gotten big because she grinned and went into more detail of what she meant. After a while we were comfortable enough that I could ask her how she was doing, really doing.

“there are days when I feel like I’m going to be OK and days that I … don’t. How did you … you know … live after your family died like that?”

I was very careful with my answer. I wanted to be honest but I didn’t want to scare her either. “I had a hard time for a while. People … I didn’t have any family support. My ‘aunt and uncle’ were really my dad’s cousins and did the best they could I suppose but, for me it wasn’t good enough. So I floundered around trying to put one foot in front of the other and I made a lot of mistakes along the way. I learned a lot but to be honest, I’m still undoing some of the junk that I tied myself up with. The one thing above all others that has always stuck with me is that …” and it still choked me up to talk about it. “…my parents and brother loved me. They wouldn’t have wanted for me the kind of hell I put myself through. It took a long time for me to see that. Maybe longer because I didn’t have anyone that actually sat me down and explained that to me.”

Laurabeth was looking out the window. “Jonathon loved you. And he was a guy with lots of commonsense. And you know that he’s in Heaven with the baby. I can’t say what your future holds Laurabeth but I know that whatever it is you can know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jonathon wouldn’t hold you living a good life against you. In fact, that’s exactly what he would have wanted you to do in his memory.”

“Kiri, do you think … I mean … do you think that Ron can say the same thing about … about Julia? He doesn’t show it but I think in some ways he’s … Kiri, sometimes I think the only reason he remembers to breathe is because he has it in his head that he’s going to look after Stevie. And maybe after me too. I think he’s more tortured than … than … I’m scared for him sometimes. He’ll read to me out of the Bible when I’m feeling really bad but it’s like … like he won’t let himself hear the Words or feel the comfort. I’m afraid it is because … he doesn’t think he deserves them.”

Yeah, that gave me lots to think about. After Austin went to bed that night , early because he was tired though we didn’t know he was just starting to get sick too, I talked it over with Rand. I could tell he was listening but at the same time he was thinking that it was just “women talk” and us guessing when it came to Ron’s state of mind.

Next day started the cold for Austin and by the end of the day Rand and I weren’t feeling too chipper either. Cold or not, Sparkleberry Ranch still needed tending. Rand worked around the house laid down when he got too tired. Austin I kept in bed for a few days and he mostly just slept. It gave me time to work at my own pace in the garden and I could tell we were just about to head into a period of some heavy dehydrating and canning going on. Tuesday I planted a bunch more rows of dried beans. Wednesday I got some sewing done but not as much as I wanted to. The treadle just hurt my head too much, I had a bad sinus headache, so I sat out on the front porch and did some mending and crocheted a small lace edge on a sun bonnet for the baby.

Thursday I should have been cleaning the house but I just didn’t feel like being inside. Austin and Rand didn’t either but they, like me, didn’t have a whole lot of energy for things that weren’t absolutely essential. Rand did do some hunting but the game isn’t quite as sparse as it used to be but you can still tell the area has been over hunted. There probably wouldn’t be an edible game animal in the area if bullets weren’t getting scarce enough that people are holding onto the ammo they have.

What I did on Thursday was putter around in my flowers. I planted the caladium bulbs under some of the trees our front of the house. I planted impatiens in the shadiest flower beds on the far side of the house, but off to the side so that the lantana wouldn’t overwhelm them. I sprinkled phlox and gallardia seeds all over the property since they tend to do best when you leave them alone. The marigolds that I had started in the greenhouse got interplanted with rows of growing things out in the garden. And my daylily bed got spruced up and muched.

Friday it was back to serious work since late in the day on Thursday, after I had planted the marigolds, I started harvesting the English peas. Not enough have come in for me to can yet, that’ll be next week, but we had creamed peas for lunch yesterday and it was just right for everyone’s appetite.

Today has been laundry. I still don’t feel one hundred percent but I couldn’t put off washing the sheets or Rand’s and Austin’s work clothes. All three of us also took good baths and scrubbed away what we could of the lingering cold. It is still a little chilly at night and I didn’t want any wet heads to bring the colds back full force.

Tomorrow is a church service Sunday. I debated on going but Rand says he needs to so that he can get his work schedule for the next couple of weeks arranged. We have a lot of our own work to do as well in the coming weeks. We will be planting a large field of peanuts and we hope to harvest all the grains that we planted back in October.

I’m going to wear a new dress to church tomorrow. It might be a really girly thing to do but I just can’t wear a pair of old, unbuttoned overalls and a flannel shirt for people like Momma O and Mrs. Withrow to see. I tried it on tonight thinking I would need to take it in a little on top and doggone if I haven’t grown even more up there. This is ridiculous. I feel like I’ve been taken over by an alien.


March 26th – So much for a calm day. In the middle of Ken’s sermon one of Mr. Henderson’s men came in and said there had been an attack on the military compound. The attack had been repelled but the raiders – or whatever they were – were dispersing into the community. Everyone packed up as quickly as possible and headed back to their places to make sure that nothing happened.

We saw some strangers going by on horses but just because they were strangers didn’t mean they were the raiders. One of them was a very capable looking woman but again, that didn’t necessarily mean that they were raiders. On the other hand we didn’t take any chances. Mitch Peters came along with a few men and “escorted” the strangers out of the area just to make sure they didn’t get waylaid by people getting the wrong idea.

We are all locked up tight and have our bowl of popcorn to enjoy. My kitchen counters are full of things to that need to be dried and canned tomorrow. We’ve learned the hard way not to leave anything in the garden. Gonna be a busy day tomorrow.


March 28th – Yesterday was a nightmare. Just a complete and total nightmare. There was a mouse in my kitchen. I got up and went in there to start breakfast and there was the little beasty sitting on my counter eating my English peas!!! It was horrible. I screamed loud enough to be heard in Columbia County.

After all the ruckus died down Rand nearly fell over laughing. I still don’t think it is very funny but he said it was like one of those “Funniest Home Video” shows. I screamed and they came running and when they got there I was running around the kitchen with a broom yelling, “Kill it! Kill it!!” Woofer had come running too and was knocking over chairs and baskets trying to catch the little evil vermin for me. We made a bigger mess catching the mouse than the mouse had on his own.

I emptied every cabinet and hauled everything out of the kitchen until I realized that the cover had come off the floor drain and that is how the nasty little thing must have gotten in. Evil I tell you. Fraidy is moving back inside and I don’t care what she has to say about it.

Actually she has been a good sport after having a mild conniption after first. We put the kittens in a box in the spare room and since we haven’t bothered them since seems satisfied. Woofer was happy to share his bowl of leftovers with Momma Fraidy, I think he was lonesome for her. I’m not so worried about our little cat family either.

I hope that is the only mouse that has come in. Just to be on the safe side I’ve been sprinkling cayenne pepper seeds and mint and spearmint in all the cabinets.


March 29th – More baby sewing. I felt all mushy while I was doing it. The baby is getting more and more real. I mean he’s been real before now but it seems that as far away as his being born is, it still isn’t time enough for me to get everything done before he gets here.

Rand was gone all day today. He and Austin went to do some mowing and tomorrow they are going to go plow two fields … one in the morning and one in the afternoon. We aren’t the only ones preparing to plant. Mr. Coffey is going to plant a couple of really big fields of peanuts and cut his production of sorghum accordingly. We still have sorghum left over from his last harvest and hopefully it will last us a while longer yet.

I wonder what that is going to do for its trade value at the swap meets? Right now there is plenty if you are willing to trade for it so while it has a high trade value there isn’t any shortage. Next season that could be different depending on how many are growing sorghum for their personal use. I heard on Sunday at the dinner table that the people in their co-op (I’m kind of at a loss what else to call them since the all tend to throw their work together on big projects like this) are going to be planting a big field of it. In addition to the seed heads for people food as well as animal feed, and the stalks for the juice to make syrup with, they were talking about trying to use the remaining biomass in ethanol production. It might not net them much ethanol but they could build a central refrigeration unit or fill a tractor engine.

Rand started our ethanol still up a few days ago. He’s starting with a traditional mash made of corn, yeast … well, all the stuff you’d use to make moonshine. A few more days and we’ll have something … but we’ll have to see if it will actually burn clean enough to operate an engine. One of Rand’s recent acquisitions has been several plastic fuel drums. Once he figures out if this works, he’ll start storing the ethanol first for our own use, then for trade.

Another project that Rand is working on getting the parts for is a biomass briquette production set up. It made my head hurt trying to understand what he was so excited about. Mr. Coffey, his son, and Rand were talking about it before the church service on Sunday. Basically they plan on taking dried biomass … like peanut shells, sawdust, wood chips, soy bean husks, etc. … and then you process and press the stuff into a hollow cylinder using a screw press. The briquettes can then be used to operate a steam engine. The problem is that you have to have fuel to operate the briquette maker that they’ve designed (Mr. Coffey’s son and Rand are going in shares for the parts) which is where the ethanol comes in. After the briquette machine is completely operational then they’ll convert the briquette machine to using the biomass briquettes in a steam engine so it will basically be producing enough briquettes to fuel its own production.

Rand “found” a really old team engine tractor. The old woman just wants someone to help her and her grandchildren out and could care less about the old junk her husband – dead over twenty years – left in the barn. He’s been hauling it home a few parts at a time in exchange for keeping her property mowed and plowing her garden. The tires on this thing are very strange and the overall size of the thing is huge. Rand is going to have to build a pole barn for the tractor alone. When the tractor is up and running Rand says we’ll be sitting on gold. I don’t know about that but it sounds like he won’t have to work so hard and that’s good to me. We don’t get to spend near as much time together as we used to, it makes me a little anxious and sad … and lonesome.

For my part in trying to add to our family’s “wealth” I’ve been drying a bunch of stuff the last week or so; beets, English peas, greens, turnips, and today I harvested several bunches of celery. It has been so long since I’ve had fresh celery that I had a really hard time not eating a whole bunch … literally. There are days that I could just graze from sun up to sun down. I have to be careful though because gaining too much weight with the baby could be just as bad as gaining too little according to Ken. I’ve got a cleaner bill of health than I had before. Blood pressure is all under control and I’m feeling better too.

The one thing I’m not feeling so good about is that Rand brought word that SueLinda’s business isn’t the only unsavory one that is springing up along a certain section of the river. There’s gambling, a few saloon type bars, and a black market warehouse. Because of the goods they have for sale or trade there they are pulling business away from the Trade Shack. Bill and Missy aren’t hurting, they run a legitimate business and provide a real service, but when people start bartering for luxuries they have less to trade for their needs. The military supposedly keep a close eye on what is happening but claim they really don’t have any jurisdiction over them unless they become a threat to the community’s general peace and safety. I suppose that depends on how you look at it and whose yardstick you are using to measure it by.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 88

March 30th – The influx of northern refugees has begun to arrive. Rand is really bent out of shape. No, he is more than bent out of shape; he is absolutely furious.

We were working out in the yard when several families crossed into our land jumping the fence to the north of the homesite. They immediately made a beeline for our gardens. That stunt nearly got them killed. The fact that they had young children amongst them saved their bacon-- that and the fact they didn’t make it into the gardens. The fences are strong to keep animals and raiders out they are strong enough to keep out some pathetic refugees, otherwise bloodshed was imminent.

That alone was enough to be upsetting but what came next is what made Rand blow a gasket.

“Hey! What are you shooting at us?! The lady said we’d get food here. Now you give it to us like she said or we’re gonna take it!”

One of the men began to raise his gun at Rand and I, standing at a back window, fired off a warning shot that puffed the sand right between the blowhard’s feet.

“Throw it away or the next one is gonna turn you from a rooster into a hen!” I yelled out from my secure position.

Rand was still covering the three other men and Austin was armed as well. Finally their stupid cranked back a notch. They threw down their weapons and we were telling the women we weren’t going to shoot ‘em in the back or take their kids when horses came galloping down our lane.

Lucky for us it was just Mitch, Hoss, and Bradley. They’d been coming to discuss business with Rand when they’d heard the shooting and my yelling. At the sight of the men on horseback it was like a Chinese firedrill; the refuges started running in every which direction.

The three men were confirmed cowboys by this time and rounded up the people even faster than they would have the same number of cattle. They all started squawking at the same and Rand gave one of his piercing whistles to shut them up long enough for Mitch to get a word in edgewise. Additional men from the Henderson Ranch showed up as did Mr. Henderson himself.

It was a circular story that had to be repeated several times before we could make heads or tails of it. They didn’t know the name of the “lady” in question but given where they were given the information on Sparkleberry Ranch and the general description of the woman in question there was no doubt in our mind that SueLinda was behind this.

Rand was so angry I was nearly scared of him. It took Mitch and Mr. Henderson to keep him taking off right then but it wasn’t until I had a little spell and had to sit down that he let go of his fury. I tried to tell him I was fine but in a sense it only deepened his anger but it did keep it in check.

This whole time the refugees kept trying to justify their actions. Rand finally snarled, “You people ever thought of asking?! I’ve got a family to take care of and my wife has a baby on the way. Had you gone looking for work instead of a hand out you might have found what you were looking for. Now all you’ve done is make it less likely that I’d want to help you or anyone like you.” I put my hand on Rand’s arm, concerned because the anger I was seeing was so unlike him. “No Kiri, they can go to the blasted migrant farm and work for a living. They put you and the baby and Austin in danger and I won’t abide that, not for any reason. Henderson! Get them off my land before I do something we’ll all regret.”

Rand was snarling and spitting like a cat by that point; so unlike himself that I was at a loss as to what to do. He slammed his hat down on his head and walked off to the wood pile and started slamming the big ax so hard into a stump that he’d been cutting up that I thought he was after making us some toothpicks.

Mitch caught me staring and said, “He’ll come around, just give him time.”

I looked at him and whispered, “I’ve … I’ve never seen him like this Mitch. I understand this could have gone badly it but didn’t . I’m usually the one that is all bent out of shape and he’s the one that is usually calm, cool, and collected.”

“It’s different when a man sees his home under attack. But the truth is Kiri you are getting a peek at the old Rand, the angry young man he was when he was a teenager. There were plenty of times when I pulled him and … and Chase out of stuff and Rand would be just like this. He’s done a lot of growing up Kiri and you’ve done amazing things for him but every once in a while a man’s got a reason to get angry and this is one of those times so the old Rand is coming out. Give him time to cool off. He’ll be fine.”

That wasn’t a lot of comfort but at least it was a little bit of explanation. As for “cooling off” he hasn’t done much of that. He’s trying but he is still really angry. He’s not taking it out on Austin or I – he played around of checkers with Austin and acted like he was listening to the next chapter of Johnny Tremain that I was reading. But I could tell, even Austin could tell, he was still wound tight. The only reason Rand is asleep now is because he is exhausted. He works from before sun up to after sun down and with the days growing longer that means the hours worked are growing as well.

I understand why Rand is angry I’m just not sure I understand why he is angry the way he is. I can guess and it all goes back to SueLinda. It might make some women jealous, the amount of energy he’s devoted to being angry at this woman, but not me. I’m resentful but of SueLinda, not at Rand. I’m telling you though, if he catches up with her tomorrow, I hope there is someone there to stop him. I’m a little worried that he is so angry that he really will do something he’ll regret.


March 31st – Stupid, stupid, stupid. And I was worried about Rand.


April 1st – Wish I could lay this all at the door of some bad April’s Fool joke but nope, I’ve gone and done it again. The problem is that I’m not real sure I regret it, any of it. I’m tired of being sorry for being me. And I’ll be doggone if I’ll apologize to that hellcat. I hope her face is wrecked for good … well, maybe not, but maybe a little bit I do. I don’t know. I don’t know quite how I feel about it at this point.

Missy came over early in the morning yesterday to discuss some pre-orders and to see about maybe paying me to make some general stock to keep at the Shack. It would be a little bit of speculating on her part but she thinks that she can catch a few more customers with impulse buys.

“If the women could just see what it is that they are pre-ordering that might also help encourage some sales. I can understand the not wanting to buy a pig in a poke. Oh here,” she said bringing in a satchel of material, “I brought more cotton cloth for the bras and under clothes. Some of this stuff is really light weight so maybe you can put some lace around the edges and stuff? Could be used for Sunday wear and the heavier muslin cloth can be used for every day. Hey … where’s Rand off to this time of day? Got another field to mow?”

“No,” I said, glad she had finally stopped talking long enough for me to decide to ask her about SueLinda. She’d also given me the perfect opening.

We’d been gossiping for over an hour while we planned out what I could trade at the Shack that would likely bring in the greatest return when I heard wagon wheels coming down our road a little fast. It’s funny, with cars gone wagons wheels are now as distinct as engine noises were. I knew right away that the wagon wasn’t ours … especially since it was sitting in the barn … and I also knew it wasn’t one that I had heard before. It was too quiet and for some reason that disturbed me.

Then I heard Austin try to get a yell out only to have it cut off … and Woofer’s snarl and then yelp. The next sound though sent ice right through me. SueLinda had a snarl to match Woofer’s. “Take it all. I want it all. What we don’t take, destroy it.”

Missy said she made a grab for me but I brushed her off and put my hands on the .357 that I kept in my kitchen. It was loaded with hollow points. It didn’t look as fancy as the one Rand had but Clyde said it was just powerful and the hollow points are the kind of bullets that make a mess of whatever they hit. Missy grabbed my rifle.

I peeked out the window and saw Austin fighting the woman. She had him around the throat with her hand over his mouth. As I watched she turned loose of him just long enough to grab him by the hair and slap him across the face several times before putting him back in the choke hold. I didn’t know what had happened to Woofer, if he had still been mobile he would have already ripped SueLinda’s throat out.

The man was heading into the barn and I couldn’t let him. I didn’t see a weapon on SueLinda but a quick thought had me pocketing the .357 into my apron and grabbing the rifle from Missy. She fought me briefly for it but she let go when she saw the look in my eyes. I went into the Great Room, cracked the door, and with a couple of shots took the back of the guy’s head off. It happened so fast. The other man turned, pulling a gun and I put three rounds in his torso. I noticed another women running away and I put a round in her big backside and she went down squalling.

I was gone away in my head. I had had all I was going to take from this woman. “Austin, kick her in the shins and bite her hand. Jam a thumb in her eye if she won’t let go.”

SueLinda was so shocked at what she’d walked into that she didn’t even think to defend herself when Austin followed my instructions to the letter.

Missy later said that I was just about the scariest thing she’s ever seen; strangely she meant it as a compliment. As soon as Austin was clear I raised the rifle and told SueLinda, “You have just used up the last of your nine lives. Isn’t it enough that you bring up bad memories for Rand every time your name is mentioned? You have been in my face and Rand’s face since you showed up around here. You’ve instigated and started rumors. You’ve done your level best to cause problems. Now you sic those poor people on us and when that doesn’t work you have the nerve to show up here, at our home, and just steal what doesn’t belong to you? Are you out of your mind or do you just have a death wish?!”

All she did was snarl at me. For a microsecond I was tempted to send her to her Maker but then I thought of Rand and knew that I had to give him time to resolve this in some other way. But I’ll be doggone if I’m going to stand there and let myself be attacked … even if I wasn’t pregnant. I switched the safety to on, switched the rifle around and swung it like a bat. I caught her a hard crack that apparently broke her cheek bone, her jaw, broke some teeth, and cut that side of her face up pretty good. It also knocked her out cold.

I stood there heaving and then promptly threw up all over my own shoes because I couldn’t seem to move.

Austin was stumbling back under the weight of Woofer; that gave me something to focus on. He was crying … Austin, not Woofer. Woofer was out of it. “They shot him. They shot him.”

“Easy Austin, I don’t see any blood,” I tried to reassure him.

“It was some kind of dart. I pulled it out and brought Woofer home. Can you fix him Kiri?!”

“Austin, calm down. Let’s lay Woofer on the porch. Come on. Now, put your hand on his chest … feel it going up and down? Feel his heart? I think … I think it was just some kind of tranq gun, like animal control used to use … the dog catcher. Why don’t you sit with him and keep him out of the sun. He might be out for a while but I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that you are looking after him. OK?”

When I turned around there was Missy. She couldn’t decide whether to smile or look stern. In the end she just sighed and said, “I tied witchy poo up. You better come up with a good one. Rand is going to go nuclear.”

Oh, nuclear didn’t even come close. He was hollering and bellowing so loud and so fast that I couldn’t even understand half of what he was saying. I’d barely had time to clean my boots up when the thunder of a bunch of hooves came down the lane. The woman that I had shot in the rear end had escaped on us but gotten caught by some of Mr. Henderson’s men and spilled the story. She didn’t care that she was incriminating herself, she just wanted away from the crazy, fat girl that lived down the lane.

And of course Henderson’s men had radioed it in and then Rand got wind of it … and Bill did too which was fun watching Missy get basically the same treatment as I did. However Missy turned the table on Bill and said that if the men in the community wouldn’t spend so much ever loving time watching SueLinda’s girls’ nether regions we wouldn’t be in this situation. Missy is a piece of work. By the time she was through every man there felt guilty whether they had any reason to or not.

Except for Rand. He was still snorting and snarling and I was very tempted to tell him I didn’t feel well … but that would have been an out and out lie. I was feeling better than I had in a while. That doesn’t say much for my character I’m sure but nevertheless it’s true. Instead I stood there and let him wind down.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?!”

“Rand, you’re right. SueLinda is a nasty person. The situation was horrible. People could have been hurt. If it hadn’t been as bad as it was I never would have done what I did.”

That shut his mouth so I continued. “I’m standing here because you’ve helped me get to the point where I’m a capable woman. This is our home. Had you been here you would have done what I did … except maybe the bang up side of SueLinda’s head. But you were off trying to prevent the situation from escalating. SueLinda however is unreasonable and chose to make the situation what it is. I knew you would be along shortly and that is what gave me the courage to do what had to be done. You’ve worked too hard, I’ve worked too hard, to get where we are. There comes a time when you have to put up or shut up. You and I have said everything we could to keep SueLinda at bay … she refused. That’s all there is to it.” Then I walked into his arms in front of everyone startling him to no end since he knows public displays make me uncomfortable. “Thank you Rand for teaching me the skills I need to survive and that I am capable of doing what has to be done.”

I got some mumbled response in return but he hugged me back, though it was a kind of sideways hug since my belly is getting in the way of just about all the fun stuff these days.

Rand is still upset. Not at me, just at the entire situation. Austin is better after Ken looked Woofer over. The drug wasn’t long lasting but we have to keep an eye on him a couple of days just to be on the safe side. The boy and dog went to bed early, both of them feeling the effects of too much excitement.

After Austin was asleep Rand worked off his fear by keeping me close and then closer still. It was good for both of us. It was comfort and being comforted, making needed connections that run deeper than words. It was accessing the intimacy that reassured both of us that we were still here, still together, still operating as a team.

Today has been a little trying. Rand has insisted that I relax and not do much. It was a swap meet day but we didn’t attend. I should have done laundry today but Rand said forget it. I had a lot of planting to do today but Rand put a chair out in the garden and would only let me direct the work, not participate in it.

What I was allowed to do was sit in the shade and prepare the carrots and broccoli that was picked so it could go on the dehydrator. Monday I’ll be canning carrots whether Rand is ready for me to or not. I cannot get behind. In fact I need to get ahead as much as possible because everything I’m hearing about having babies – both the birth part and the raising part – says they are an awful lot of work and take a whole lot of time and attention. That means I’ll have even less time to do the necessary work. But I’m not going to think about that motherhood stuff right now. I’m wiggy enough as it is.

Mitch came by today after the swap meet. He was worried that either I was sick or that we weren’t sure of our reception out in the community. Rand popped off a little bit and said, “Ask me how much I care whether anyone in the ‘community’ disapproves of the fact that SueLinda got what was coming to her.”

“Easy Rand. You’ve got it wrong. I know for a fact that there are plenty of women that are ready to defend Kiri to anyone that might be stupid enough to say she did anything other than what SueLinda forced her to do. Most of them are saying they would have simply pulled the .357 and put a period to a rabid animal.”

I thought that was taking it a little far and broke in, “Aw Mitch, that’s a bit much. Rabid animals can’t control themselves. SueLinda could have, she simply chose not to.”

“I don’t disagree with you there. I hope you know that brother of yours is three-quarters crazy too.”

“Oh no, what has Ram done now.” I looked over at Rand for support only I caught a look before he was able to hide it. “Rand! What are you and Ram up to?”

Mitch decided that he’d best make a quick exit which told me that whatever it was I wasn’t likely to be enamored of it. “Rand …”

“Easy Kiri. It isn’t that bad.”

“Uh huh.”

“Ram needed a little backing and he’s going to make a few business deals.”

“Uh huh.”

“I took some of those Sand Dollars left over from what Mr. Barnes sent. Gave them to Ram to invest.”

“Uh huh … and …”

“Look, SueLinda is able to attract the business that she does not just because of her ‘girls’ but because she runs a pretty profitable black market operation. Ram is just … instigating a bit and creating some competition.”

“He’s what? And you’re backing him?”

“We are … I know we didn’t discuss it but I had to make the decision quick.”

“Rand, you know I don’t know doodly about the money stuff. I trust you with that … no, don’t go getting all righteously indignant, I’m not in the mood for it and you sure aren’t going to use it to distract me from figuring out what you and Ram are up to.”

“Aw Babe.”

“Don’t ‘aw Babe’ me Rand Joiner. I expect this kind of craziness out of Ram but if that crazy hermano is going to start dragging you into it … all too willingly apparently … I’m gonna at least know what it is and have my say on it.”

At his continued discomfort and the fact that he was taking so long to come up with a story I figured it out for myself and I was NOT happy. “Tell me … oh tell me … that Ram hasn’t talked you into investing in some crazy scheme to take over the black market that SueLinda was operating.”

“We aren’t black marketers, we’re legitimate businessmen.”

“I am going to skin that crazy …”

“Calm down. The only part I’m involved in is a financial backer. You said you trust me.”

“Of course I trust you so don’t do the puppy dog eyes thing. That’s not what I’m upset about. Rand you and I both know that those river smugglers are nothing to fool with. Not even the military messes with them unless they get out of hand too far inland. I can’t believe that you’d intentionally get involved with something like that! What if they take a mind to weed out of the competition and catch you … you or Ram … out someplace and … deal with you?”

“Babe, I’m not the only backer that Ram has.”

“Who else has he talked into this madness?!”

“Bill, Clyde, Mr. Henderson, Mr. Coffey.”

“What?!”

“Babe, listen to me. Something has to be done. They are beginning to blockade sections of the river making it next to impossible to get things unless you run it overland. We are doing fine but most people have to trade for what they need. Henderson has run into the problem several times and he’s looking at this as a nonviolent way of dealing with the problem.”

“I don’t think those river smugglers know how to be nonviolent.”

“Be that as it may, let’s give it a try. One way or the other this can’t continue and I’d rather be on the side that makes a difference … and potentially a profit … than on a side that just sits around letting those criminals just take over things.”

So. I’m not sure what to think. I guess we have to give this a try but I have a bad feeling that this is just a stopgap measure than is only going to force the violence to come to a head sooner rather than later.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 89

April 3rd – I didn’t feel like writing yesterday, I was simply too overwhelmed. Geez, listen to me. I sound like that what’s-her-name … Scarlet O’Hara in that movie Gone With the Wind. “I can’t think about that right now. If I do I’ll go crazy. I’ll think about it tomorrow.” Oh please, I’m not normally this much of a drama queen but witnessing what I did yesterday was just too much.

I made some bad assumptions. I left it up to others after I’d done my part. I thought that doing my part was enough, that I’d finally acted enough that the problem would go away or at least no longer threaten Rand and I personally. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Yesterday morning Mr. Henderson rode up with Mitch and Hoss and asked to speak with Rand and I together; Austin as well since he was a witness despite still being a young boy. SueLinda and that other woman … Cali something or other … had been turned over to the military for their crimes. Unfortunately on Sunday morning they were being released because some blood sucking lawyer had proved that the military didn’t have any jurisdiction over them in this particular case.

A citizens’ group … basically a glorified posse … captured them just beyond sight of the military compound and brought them to Mr. Henderson to ship them out of town to get rid of the problem since the military wouldn’t. Mr. Henderson’s concern with that was that the two women would only hook back up with the criminal element and come back to haunt us all at a later date.

Mr. Henderson wanted to know whether I would agree to appear before a community trial and accept whatever was decided rather than seek my own revenge against SueLinda. I looked at Rand who had a very hard expression on his face.

“Rand? I … I didn’t plan this .. I …”

“I know Babe. SueLinda did this, now she can sleep in the bed she’s made for herself.”

So that’s how we all wound up spending the rest of the day outside of what is left of City Hall and the old County Jailhouse. The trial such as it was didn’t last but two hours. One hour and fifty minutes was all of the testimony regarding SueLinda’s activities, her threats against the community in general and Rand and I in particular, and how even under the current circumstances she continued to make death threats to anyone aiding and abetting their jailers. The other ten minutes were spent by the jury trying to write up an official sounding verdict and figuring out who was supposed to read it to the court.

It’s not that I hadn’t expected SueLinda to be found guilty; what I hadn’t expected was how swiftly “justice” would be carried out. Every time I think of it I want to lose my lunch. I’m pretty sure that SueLinda and that other woman didn’t expect it either. They were screaming and hollering right up to the bitter end. Within thirty minutes of the verdict being read they were swinging from the limb of an old oak tree that had grown from the acorn of another oak that had been used for that same purpose a hundred years before. The other woman died immediately. SueLinda took a while because her neck hadn’t snapped as it was supposed to have done.

Rand took us home; I walked in the house, laid down and pulled the covers over my head. A few minutes later Rand came in and lay down beside me and held me while I cried like a baby. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“I know Babe. I know. But it had to be done.”

I sat up, “Had to?! What’s this had to stuff?! People chose to do this. I never thought I’d see someone hung in my life Rand. That’s Old West stuff reserved for horse thieves, bank robbers, and murderers for crying out loud. I can’t believe I was a part of this.”

“And what? How did you think this was going to end? Life in prison? Who would be the jailers? Who would support that system? Where would the jail be?”

“I … I …”

“Babe, look at me. SueLinda had a choice and she made it. We as a community could not allow her actions to go unanswered.”

“But look at all the things I’ve done Rand. Am I going to find myself swinging from that tree one day?!”

“No!! No. You … look at me Babe … self defense is completely different from what SueLinda was punished for. You know it. I know you still feel guilty for some of the lives you’ve taken, so do I. But we only did it when we were faced with no other choice, generally because we were facing death ourselves. This is a completely different situation. SueLinda premeditated her actions and they were designed to destroy us. When she couldn’t accomplish what she wanted through the actions of others she finally did the dirty deed herself … and now she’s paid for it.”

He held me and then I asked him more quietly, “Where do we go from here?”

“Us or the community?”

“Both.”

“Well, we just keep doing what we’re doing, harming none unless harmed. Defending ourselves when necessary. We’ve always stayed out of other people’s business and I don’t see that changing. As for the community, hopefully this will get people to think. We’ve got a lot of folks that have just been going along, letting things degenerate into a free for all. We’ve got some people who like it like that. But we’ve also got people in this community that need protection from those that would take advantage of them … widows, orphans, old folks, and the like. All communities need rules to live by, and if you have rules you have to have consequences if those rules get broke.”

“But where does this end? I don’t want to go back to the days where people like Mr. Harbinger rode around on horses telling people what they could and couldn’t do.”

“No one does … well, no one with any sense does. Look Kiri, it didn’t get broke in one day and it isn’t going to get fixed in one day either. Hopefully what happened today was an anomaly. Most people don’t want to hurt other people just for the sake of hurting them. Most people around here don’t steal either. This was just an extreme example of what could go wrong and what our community could be facing here on out. And it might not have been a bad thing for it to happen now. Set the precedent and those refugees that are coming in might think twice before pulling a similar stunt in our community.”

“What about every place else.”

“I can’t deal with that Babe. Every place else is going to have to take care of their own just like we are doing.”

I could barely eat yesterday and what I did manage to eat came right back up when Ram, Clyde, and Bill came over to discuss their so-called business venture.

I heard Austin yell, “Rand! Kiri’s puking again!”

Rand came in, took a look at my face and said, “Bed. Now.”

And that’s where I stayed the rest of the evening. But you can’t hide from life if you plan on living it so I got up this morning and tried to not let the image of the two women swinging in the breeze get to me. Paul came over about lunch time and I overheard him and Rand talking.

“Just wanted you to know they took the bodies down about an hour ago. Some lawyer tried to drag the military back into it but didn’t have any luck because the base commander refuses to get involved with what he calls civilian affairs. The Judge had some people bury the two women out in that field behind where Walmart used to be.”

“Thanks for the letting me know.”

“Gran wants to know how Kiri is. She figures she is taking it pretty hard.”

“And then some. She wants to know where this is going to end.”

“Yeah, Gran has wondered as much herself but I don’t see as any of us were left much choice. They wouldn’t have stopped with your place. They’d just kept on and on.”

I hope that we haven’t taken the first step down a long hard road. What’s that say? The road to hell is paved with good intentions? I’ve felt that way more than a few times over the last year but now I’ve got a baby to think about. This is just my future that is being worked out, but his too.


April 4th – I’ve promised myself not to dwell on the hanging so much. It isn’t healthy. I don’t know that it is any healthier to ignore it but there has to be some middle ground where I can accept it and take precautionary note of what it could mean without it creeping into my nightmares which is what it did last night. I saw Rand and Austin and some little baby all strung up like SueLinda was. Each body had a sign that said “stepped over the line.” I could hear the creaking of the rope against the tree limb. I woke up so upset that even listening to Rand’s snoring couldn’t comfort me. I never did get back to sleep and was up and had breakfast cooking before the guys even had both eyes open. Rand knows it is still bothering me but this is something I’m just going to have to work through on my own this time.

Work has helped. The tomatoes are coming in and since I planted so many we’re going to have an abundance again this year. I also picked the first of the cauliflower, pearl onions, and sweet yellow onions. The pearl onions I pickled and canned. I braided the tops of the yellow onions together and hung them upstairs in the dormer room. I’m going to pull another row of onions tomorrow and slice them up and dry them to make dried chopped onion, dried minced onion, onion powder, and onion salt all of which I’m getting low on.

For dinner tonight I made homemade chips and salsa and bean burritos. The guys were in hog heaven but it didn’t set to well on my stomach. Guess the baby must not like the hot stuff right now. I think I’ll go to bed early and try and rest up. I haven’t felt too good today. Lack of sleep most likely.


April 5th – not lack of sleep. Stupid blood pressure.


April 6th – I’m starting to hate this bed.
April 7th – Free at last. I’m getting down right irritated at this blood pressure stuff. Ken said it was stress related. Who doesn’t have stress these days?! Just so tired all of the time. I can’t even move without running into stuff. You can see me coming around the corner before I even get there. And I’m getting this knarly stretch mark that itches all of the time. I’m putting lotion on it but Missy says that I can forget ever looking like I looked before. I didn’t want to tell her but I was no prize before I got big and fat with this baby.

But even if Ken hadn’t given the all clear I needed to be up and moving today. Tomorrow we plant peanuts and we’ve got family coming over to help. Austin is wound tighter than a top because the boys will be here. Brendon will be here too as will Clyde. Uncle George was going to be here but he’s got gout and is laid up and feeling as miserable as I did from what we hear. I’m sending home some blueberry juice when they go back. Blueberry juice isn’t as good for gout as black cherry juice is supposed to be, but it is worth a try. I looked it up in Momma’s files and Uncle George needs to drink lots of water, cut down on beans, lentils and red meat and raise his intake of dairy. Hopefully that will help. Grout sounds awful. Who wants to have a swollen and sore big toe?!

For the baking today I made several loaves of Irish Soda Bread to go with the beans, tomatoes, greens, fried corn, and venison meat loaf that will be tomorrow’s main meal. For the bread I took rough four cups of flour, one teaspoon of salt, three teaspoons of baking powder, one teaspoon of baking soda, and one quarter cup of sugar and sifted it all together. Then I used a pastry blender to cut in one quarter cup of butter which gave me a very crumbly dough. In another bowl I beat together one egg and on and three quarter cup of buttermilk. Then I stirred the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and mixed well.

Once I got it to a decent consistency I turned the dough out onto my floured bread board … nothing fancy, it’s just a cutting board that I use to knead bread on and nothing else. I kneaded the bread for about two minutes or until it was smooth. Then I divided the dough in half and formed each half into a nice round loaf.

I put each round loaf onto a greased cake pan and pressed it down a tad to flatten it out. Then I took a sharp pair of kitchen shears and cut crosses in the top of each loaf about half an inch deep. I baked the loaves for 30 minutes, maybe a tad longer, at 375 F until they were nice and browned. I did this three times so I have six loaves. It used a lot of flour but we’ve been eating so much cornmeal lately that I felt the need to splurge since we were having company.

I am completely ready for bed. We have to get up earlier than normal. Tomorrow looks like it is going to be a long, full day.


April 9th – Was too tired to write last night and haven’t had time today until now. Thank goodness the Lord planned to have at least one day off a week or I can see a lot of people just dropping in their tracks from exhaustion.

Yesterday we planted nearly five acres in peanuts. There were three kinds – runners, Virginias, and Spanish. When I heard how many pounds we were supposed to get from each acre I thought I was hearing things. Rand and the other men claim we should get about two thousand pounds of peanuts per acre. I asked what on earth they expected us to do with all those peanuts and Rand said to think of George Washington Carver. I’m ashamed to say I had to go look that one up.

I wasn’t allowed in the field and it didn’t break my heart at all. The idea of bending to plant all of those little legumes just about gave me a back ache just thinking about it. Each see is planted about two inches deep, one every three or four inches, in rows about three feet apart. In about two weeks, the first "square" of four leaflets will unfold above the peanut field and I’m really anxious to see it. I’m not the only one. Several families are going to be counting on peanut production for everything from a protein sour to oil to animal feed and other stuff beyond. Mr. Coffey said that the meal that is normally made from the pressed peanuts (left over from capturing the oil) can be ground and used by humans as well.

Thirty to forty days after the plants bloom, "pegs" form and enter the soil. The peanut shells and kernels develop and mature during the next 60 to 70 day period. Depending on the variety, 120 to 160 frost free days are required for a good crop.

The noon day meal was a hit but the guys were back at it before I could even finish my own meal and I was left looking at a lot of empty, but dirty, dishes to wash. I was at that until it was time for everyone to leave. I managed to get in a few loads of laundry at the same time but I couldn’t bend over and pick up the blasted laundry basket so I had to carry a few pieces at a time from the rinse tub to the clothes line. I’m going to ask Rand to put a basket onto a rolling table for me when he can find the time. My balance is all out of whack and bending over can lead to some interesting problems.

All three of us went to be tired. Austin nearly fell asleep in his dinner plate and he hasn’t done that in a while. Even Woofer and Fraidy were tired. Fraidy was out hunting moles and Woofer was scaring off the ravens that kept trying to get to the peanuts. Clyde took care of the ravens with some birdshot. All I can hope is that their family doesn’t come looking for them.

The same topic was raised after the church service today only with regard to the friends in low places that SueLinda had. The girls quickly found other “protectors” and moved onto another part of the river much to some men’s chagrin. I don’t think I know anyone that was using their … uh, services … but some men from Columbia county sure got bent out of shape after finding them gone. They reported that the ship was empty and had been scuttled. Looks like the river rats strike again.

I expected to receive some censure from some people but the exact opposite was true. It was like I was being surrounded and protected from something. I didn’t have to wait long to find it out. Straight from the pulpit in Ken’s sermon came the message against treachery, that we had people in our community accused of unrighteous behavior, sending lions to slaughter the innocent. I started wondering what on earth was going on because I’d never heard Ken preach like that. Then I noticed a lot of people nodding like they understood exactly what he was referring to.

“Brothers and sisters, we have had a woman in our midst who admitted with purposeful intent sharing information that she had no business sharing. Her intent was to see others in our midst harmed, even killed, for revenge. She and her common law husband have left this area, going north to find their fortune elsewhere. Let us take this as a warning to gird ourselves against such a temptation we may one day find ourselves facing. Deuteronomy, Hebrews, and Romans all tell us the Lord has said, ‘It is mine to avenge; I will repay. In due time their foot will slip; their day of disaster is near and their doom rushes upon them.’”

He went on like that at length but I had a bad case of acid indigestion by the time it was all over. Momma O and Mrs. Withrow never let me out of their sight during the dinner on the grounds and I was summarily handed over to Rand when it was time to go. He was silent almost all the way home.

“Rand? What … who was Pastor Ken going on about?”

We were turning onto our lane and Rand gave a deep sigh before replying. “SueLinda had been asking around but couldn’t find out anything about our location until she started manipulating Lucretia.”

“Lucretia?! No …. No, no, no. All of this was because …”

Rand pulled on the reins and turned me to look at him, “We are not even going down that road. Lucretia made her choice. She got herself in this fix. You can’t keep getting a complex over this stuff.”

“I’m not getting a complex.” When his eyebrow did a Mr. Spock impression I said, “OK so I’ve got a little complex about this kind of stuff but Rand …”

“No but Rand … period. Babe, let this one go. Just let it go. It’s over.”

I want to believe that but, I really do but something tells me that it’s not going to be that simple.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 90

April 10th – Today was beautiful. I tried to take Rand’s advice and just “let go” of it for a little while; “it” being an increasing paranoia that somehow something had been set in motion at the trial and hanging that was going to have very long term consequences. Of course “it” may be been put in motion even before that; my choice to confront certain people, develop a certain reputation, etc. But if you want to go back even further than that my choice to leave Tampa, my choice to … this is ridiculous; Rand is right, when do I let someone else take responsibility for their share of what has happened and just accept that some things happen for a reason beyond my understanding.

So, to begin again, today was beautiful. It really was and I almost missed how beautiful things have become. The last of the dogwood blossoms are leaving the trees. The redbuds are almost all gone. And the azalea bushes are all bloomed out for the season. The bright yellow Jessamine is also just passed its peak. I missed paying attention to the camellias completely with my head stuck in the worry bucket.

But I won’t miss the daylilies and African irises because they are full of buds that are absolutely dying to be noticed. The plumbago looks like it is going to bloom late this year so I won’t miss it either. And the warm rains we’ve been having have really got the Mexican heather seeking notice. There’s other stuff, mostly what folks would consider weeds but it’s still pretty … when you bother to stop working long enough to work.

At Sparkleberry Ranch today I might very well be the only one that did stop to look. The men were over and cutting the wheat. I thought they were going to harvest it today, as in thresh it and the whole nine yards but Clyde only laughed at me. He doesn’t know me very well do he. Rand, Brendon, and the boys were watching me all day and had just started to relax when I struck … but that was later.

First they had to wait until all the dew was dried up on the wheat. Rand explain that if you didn’t you were just asking for trouble in the form of mold and other stuff that would ruin all of your hard work of the year. While they did that they worked a bit on the incline. Rand had gotten the thing months ago and had, by bits and pieces, rebuilt it. The only thing left to do was mend the “belt” that the animals would walk on that would turn the gears. The gears in turn would act as a power source the for large grain mill that Rand and Mr. Coffey’s son had built together.

They didn’t work on it too long because just as soon as it was time they hurried out to the binder machine that Rand had already put back together. The binder was drawn by Bud and Lou. If the mules had been any smaller they would have needed a larger team but Bud and Lou were bred for this kind of work. Rand said this is how they did it back in the 1920s. As the binder was drawn down the field it would cut the stalks of grain and gather them into bundles. The bundles were then gathered into windrows to finish drying. The binder that Rand had wasn’t an automatic binder, what it did was it bundled the wheat and then a man could bind it with string at the end of the process. It was more manual labor but at the same time it meant that they could use whatever string was on hand and didn’t have to stick to what would fit in a machine feeder.

All of the grain was ready to cut. I asked Rand how he knew and he showed me that with the wheat, when the grain head was turning golden and the kernel was hard, but could still be dented with your thumbnail, it was ready. The oats, rye, and triticale were ready too according to Clyde who ought to know since he in his forestry post did a lot of side work with the extension office up here. Rand said with the good, sunny weather we’ve been having it won’t take long for the grain to completely cure … get too hard to dent with your thumbnail in the case of the wheat … and then they’ll be able to use the other machine thresh it.

Rand says by the beginning of the coming week they’ll be able to thresh the wheat and the other grains as well hopefully. After all of the grain fields were cut and bound into bundles, they stopped long enough to eat a decent meal. After that and a few minutes to let their stomachs settle they headed back out and stacked the bundles. They’d take from eight to ten of the bundles and stack them together into a shock, similar to what I had done with the corn to let it dry in the field. They’ve left the shocks in the field but it is going to be guarded so I’ll be feeding extra mouths at every meal for at least a week. I don’t mind it because Rand seems to be happy.

Tonight Rand and Brendon are on guard. Clyde had to go home and change. See, I was still stewing a bit about his laughing at me. I know I’m a bit of a city girl still. I have good commonsense and if just given a moment or a reasonable explanation I can figure things out. I rarely have to ask more than once. After laughing at me a bit Clyde went way out of his way to over explain stuff to me. I thought he was just being nice at first, maybe even thought I was a bit simple or something, but then I saw Brendon and Rand making a face like they were waiting for the explosion and caught Clyde smirking when he turned away. Uh uh, you know I couldn’t leave that unchallenged.

As the day wore on it got pretty warm. Didn’t help that I spiked Clyde’s green with a little extra flavor. He likes things spicy so I helped him along by encouraging him to try my jalapeno peppers and the like. Clyde didn’t have much sense. He couldn’t resist the challenge. Melly is just such a pushover that Clyde was getting a little big for his britches. She bows to his every wish. Now I try and cooperate with Rand as much as possible but Rand never takes that for granted and never … well usually not ever … does he get over the top with the chauvinism. Like Momma always said, “in the right doses chauvinism can be wonderful, but too much will ruin your whole day.”

Clyde was getting pretty warm. And I was just egging him on to the point that Rand and Brendon both caught on. Then Ram shows up. He knew right away what was going on and he knows he owes me for getting Rand involved in his latest scheme. So he cooperated just a tad. Ram’s stomach is made of cast iron and so is his tongue. He’s never met a pepper yet that he hasn’t made friends with. I’ve seen him pop those little Thai peppers like candy on a bet. Well, I had some of those Thai peppers pickling. All it takes is a dash to season something on the warm side. Ram ate a whole pepper and then Clyde at one.

I nearly laughed out loud but I supposed I have to give to Clyde, he didn’t lose his composure … at least not yet. Then Ram at another pepper telling me they were some of the best he’d ever had. Clyde followed suit and you could tell he was getting down right uncomfortable. Ram popped a third one and gave me the eye like “this better work little sister cause I’m about done in myself.” Well, Clyde let his swagger override his commonsense and when he took that third one and chewed it up he got fired up.

Rand told me I was laughing so hard he thought I was going to go into premature labor. Clyde drank everything on the table and was still burning up so Rand, doing his own bit of laughing, pushed him over to the laundry area and pulled the handle that dumped my cold water all over him. I laughed until I could stand to laugh any more.

“My Gawd Rand! She’s nothing but pure vinegar,” Clyde wheezed still trying to get his breath back.

Rand, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes and trying to avoid Ram, Brendon, and the boys that were rolling on the ground still laughing their heads off said, “Hey man, I tried to warn you.”

Clyde is a good guy, he was eventually able to laugh at himself. “Anyone ever wants to go up agin’ you girl I’m gonna make for dang sure I’m on your side.”


April 11th – I don’t mind the company but it makes me feel more self-conscious. I fixed fried grits and sausage with biscuits for breakfast and had Austin take plates out to Rand and Brendon. About twenty minutes after he left I heard two rife shots then what I thought was screaming. It like to have scared me to death because I wasn’t expecting the noise. It also brought visions of raiders. I grab my rifle and stumble out the door when Austin comes tearing back home yelling, “Momma get inside!” He was dragging Woofer with him and Woofer didn’t want to come in the house.

“Brendon only knicked an old razorback and he is bad sick. Rand said he looks like he has psuedorabies and they are trying to get him before he can get near the livestock. Where’s Fraidy?”

“In … in the house with the kittens.”

“Phew. Rand said people can’t get it but livestock and other animals can and they’ll spread it all over.”

It was a second before I replayed what he said and realized he’d called me “Momma.” We realized what he said at the same time. He grabbed me around the waist and said, “Please don’t be mad.”

I hugged him and said, “Of course I’m not mad.”

“Can I? Just every once in a while? I’m trying it out to see if it sticks.”

I couldn’t help but laugh and my belly jumped knocking into him. “You’re what?”

“I asked Rand and he said I could do it in my head to see if I like calling you and Rand like you were my parents and stuff. You sure you ain’t mad?”

“Ain’t isn’t proper grammar. And yes, I’m sure I’m not mad.”

“Some of the boys at church said you might not like it because it would make you feel old to have a son my age.”

“Well, you can tell those boys at church that it is none of their business what makes me feel old and what doesn’t but that for a fact I … I love you Austin and I meant it when I said that you could have a home with us for as long as you wanted.”

“Even if that is forever and ever?”

“Even if that is forever and ever.”

I got a gap-toothed grin where he’s lost another molar and that’s when we heard a third and fourth shot. A minute later Brendon came down the road say, “We got it. Wasn’t psuedorabies. Looks like somebody put an arrow in him but didn’t bring him down. Massive infection, wouldn’t have lived much longer anyway. Can’t take a risk with the meat though, might be infection in the blood. Austin? Rand says to get the two round shovels and bring ‘em on so we can get that porker underground before he starts stinking.”

That wasn’t the only excitement of the day. The potatoes were ready to dig and I surprised Brendon with a five pound bag to take home. And for dinner I fixed Rand and Clyde baked potatoes, ham sliced, mixed peas and carrots, and cornbread muffins. I tell you I hadn’t realized how much I’d been missing baked potatoes. We’re going to have to be careful though because I have to save some back for planting next season and I’m not quite sure how to do it. I should ask Momma O but not until I have enough to share with her. It wouldn’t be fair to ask and not share, especially the way things are these days.

In addition to the potatoes that Austin helped me dig up the first heads of cabbage were ready and so where the big red hamburger onions. I started a crock of saur kraut and tried to fix a pot of cabbage for dinner but the smell made me heave so bad Clyde finished it up for me. Rand asked me to go lay down for a while and I did just to humor him but I slept away three hours of the day before I realized it. The only reason I woke up was because I had to go to the bathroom so badly.

When I did wake up I felt a lot better and even Clyde said my color was better. I caught him and Rand talking and then they’d stop so I figure they’re whispering about me. I’d like to know what it is about. When Rand starts worrying my life gets complicated.


April 12th – I don’t know what makes my ankles swell worse, being on my feet all day or sitting down. The sewing was backing up so since the boys came over and were helping Rand guard the grain shocks they also helped in the garden. I’ve got stuff sitting in the cooler to do but I’ll get to it tomorrow.

Gee, I’m saying that a lot lately … “I’ll just have to get to it tomorrow.” Ugh. Seems I’ve slowed way down. When I complain about it Rand gives me a kiss and says “it’s natural.” I don’t care if it is natural or not, I don’t like not being able to bend over and get the chicken eggs or help with the animals. I don’t like being so fat I can’t see to hoe what is down by my feet.

I did manage to fix the rip in the Austin’s sheets. They are getting a little thin in places and Woofer jumped on the bed and that was all she wrote. Not the end of the world but it makes me wonder what we’ll do when we go through the last of the large cotton sheet material I have. It also reminds me I need to go through all of my linens to make sure nothing is dry rotting or mildewing in this weather we’ve been having.


April 13th – Spent the day cleaning and canning which means that I’m nearly spent. Rand sent word back to his Uncle that the grain will be ready for threshing tomorrow. Just in time too because tomorrow is baking day and I need to finish up things to take to the Swap Meet. I finished the pre-orders for Missy yesterday, getting fewer of them lately, but I’m getting more orders for the mixes.

Something I’m trying this time is Taco Rice Mix. I take one cup long grain brown rice or white rice, two teaspoons chili powder, one half teaspoon salt, one quarter teaspoon each oregano & cumin & garlic powder, two tablespoons dry onion, one half cup of tomato powder, and Dash red pepper flakes. This comes with instructions to mix it with two tablespoons of oil and three cups of water.

Another thing that I’m giving a try, at least temporarily are spice mixes. I’ve got a lot of big containers of seasonings that are open from where Aunt Wilma used to go a little nuts at the online spice market. I’ve also got all these little containers of herbs and spices that came from the houses that were salvaged. And I’ve got all of my herbs that I’ve been growing and drying. I made several different varieties and put them in jelly jars and Missy can barter them by the scoopful. Cajun Blackened Seasoning, Fajita Seasoning, Colonel Sanders Chicken Seasoning, homemade chili powder, jerk seasoning, onion powder, garlic powder, I made a case of twelve different seasonings and I hope they do well.

But for now I’m very tired and I’m just gonna go to sleep and let Rand lock things down and spend the night with … I think Brendon is out there again.


April 14th – Threshing day was amazing. Each acre of wheat yielded about 35 bushels of wheat and Rand said that was excellent. We have to save back about two bushels for each acre we want to plan next season but that still leaves 33 bushels per acre and we had five acres of wheat. Each bushel weighs sixty pounds, multiply that out by thirty-three bushels and that means we’ve realized 1980 pounds of wheat per acre times five acres equals just under ten thousand pounds of wheat for this crop. The family has agreed to split it 60/40 since Brendon (and poor Jonathon) helped Rand to do the major work of planting and cultivating. So for us that means that we are going to keep and store roughly six thousand pounds of wheat (100 bushels) not including the seed wheat for next year’s crop.

From what Rand has said, a bushel of wheat will yield roughly 42 commercial loaves of bread or forty-two 1.5 pound loaves. One acre of wheat would be more than sufficient to bake our bread for the year which means then we have some for feed and some for trading. Rand and I sat and talked about it tonight. We are going to give a bushel of wheat to Mrs. Withrow and two bushels to Momma O; we are also going to set back some seed wheat for them for next year. Mrs. Withrow doesn’t have any family to look after her and she’s done so much for us. We know people do look out for her needs but we want to make the firm commitment to do so as well.

What Uncle George and the rest of the family does with their share of the wheat crop is up to them. I know that Clyde is getting a piece of theirs and Ron is as well, but he is putting his back in with the Crenshaw clan since he is living under the roof there. Rand told me that Brendon said that it is just too weird. Ron is “blooming” under Uncle George’s attention. Seems Mr. Harbinger always praised the wrong thing with his sons and now that Ron is getting the right kind of feed back he is getting more and more comfortable in the new skin he decided to try on after his brother died. Every once in a while he goes off on his own and that is usually when the guilt over Julia starts eating at him. It is an open secret that Ron didn’t love Julia but was trying to do the right thing. It might have worked in the long run but they didn’t have time to completely reconstruct their lives. Ron is thinking of reopening the fields that belonged to his now dead father in law and cultivate them for his son’s inheritance. I’ve got enough on my plate to without trying to figure out how that is going to work out in the long term.

The oats yielded roughly the same number of bushels as the wheat but there are only 32 pounds per bushel for oats. We had five acres of oats planted and we agreed to the same 60/40 split. The little bit of barley we planted (just one acre of the stuff) only yielded 20 bushels but that is more than enough for our needs since it isn’t like Rand is going to use it for beer or moonshine. Triticale was the big producer per acre at 45 bushels. We had six acres in that and Rand got all excited because the triticale is a wheat/rye cross and is used as feed. Uncle George was surprised as all get out that we did so well with it but Rand thinks we can do even better with all the grains next year by rotating them and by figuring out a way to irrigate them. Mr. Coffey and his son have some ideas but that is going to have to wait until after harvest season.

Now Rye we had 15 acres planted and it produces 56 pounds per acre. In other words we’ve got more rye than we know what to do with on a personal level so after holding back the seed wheat and we agreed that five of the acres we would split 60/40 as with the other small grains but the remaining ten was ours to keep completely and Rand and Ram have been putting their heads together and figure they should be able to get a really good trade for the stuff further south or even in the port cities.

Ram said that a cannery has started up in Plant City; it is apparently an old LDS location. If we can trade some of the product for the cans and oxygen absorbers then I can restock all of the cans that we used that my parents had left and that would mean that we could build up a nice insurance policy against a failed crop or any number of things like that.

I haven’t even gotten to how dancing around happy the men were with the straw that each grain left behind after it was threshed. The threshing machine was something to behold. Rand had it set up so that it was powered by a steam engine. The steam engine burned those little briquette things that he and Mr. Coffey’s son have gone into shares to build and produce. And I have to say it is one of the first times I’ve seen Uncle George at a complete loss for words.

The machine is big and noisy and I just about can’t stand to be around when it is going. It makes me nervous not to be able to understand what people are saying. What you do first is you load shocks of wheat into a hopper kind of thing in the thresher. Then these gears inside the thresher beat the shocks to separate the kernels of grain from the stalk. Conveyor belts carry the stalks and wheat berries through the machine. Slots in the conveyor belts let the wheat kernels fall into a hopper below the thresher. The stalks are then dumped out of the thresher at the end of the conveyor belt and then gets a name change to straw. Like I said, the quality of the straw coming out of the thresher is very high quality and can be used for animal bedding and lots of other things. I’m going to take some of it and try and weave it into things like floor mats, hats, placemats, and baskets of different sizes. There’s a trick to it but I remember hearing Momma O mention something about weaving pine needles so surely if she can do that she can teach me to weave straw.

Once the straw is removed from the kernels and auger moves the grain from the lower hopper to another sifting area in the machine. This second sifting blows most of the remaining dust and small particles out and you are left with fairly clean grain for storage which is then pulled up by another auger, out a spout and into a waiting wagon that takes the grain to storage.

Mr. Henderson and some of his men came around to watch and I swear I saw some of those grown men with tears in their eyes. I guess it is a sign that we really can make it on our own without outside help so long as people in the community pull together.

Tomorrow is Swap Meet Day and we are going. I’m kinda looking forward to it since it seems like forever since I’ve been to one. Rand is bringing me a folding chair just in case I get to where I can get around in the crowds. He has the “look” on his face. I mean, I know I’m a little wore out but aren’t we all? I’m feeling mostly OK. Ugh, here he comes with my nightly warm milk. I suppose some girls would eat this being coddled up all to pieces but it just feels so weird to me.


April 15th – Swap Meet today. Lots of good but lots to think about as well. I had more than one person look at me kind of funny. I know I’m getting big but there’s no reason for them to think I’m going to have the baby at any second. I’m not even thirty weeks along yet for goodness sake.

Got there early and got a parking space … well a wagon space … close up. Rand remember the little steps this time but they are wobbly so someone still has to help me get down. Got smart this time and brought the little garden wagon to haul stuff around with. Brought a small bag of all the grains to trade with and we almost couldn’t get back to Missy and Bill’s area because people kept stopping us to ask what was in the bags. Maybe it was a mistake, I’m not sure.

We weren’t the only ones to plant rye by any stretch but we have the only threshing machine in the county … maybe in the tri-county area. Before we left Rand had agreed to three stations … two in Suwannee county and one over in Columbia. It makes me a little uncomfortable but Mr. Henderson has agreed to provide security for a cut of what Rand takes in shares. We’ll take it in grain and straw rather than just grain since we already have so much. Oh sure, he could ask for more grain but Rand said he is building goodwill. Give people time to build up their crop and since they know you’ll be fair they’ll look to your business against next time around.

Had a man from north of us … he was here visiting with his sister … and he traded rye, wheat, and triticale for alfalfa, clover, cotton seed, flax, millet, rape, and vetch. The cotton will go with what we’ve already planted and we aren’t worried about it considering how well it is growing. The other stuff we’ll just have to wait and see. It will take a couple of seasons to growing enough to finally have something worth talking about but it fits into Rand’s longer term plans to be a self-sufficient operation and it will also allow us to keep more animals … beef cows as well as dairy, enough chickens that we can have the meat more than just every once in a while if that, keep more pigs, goats, and fowl too.

Speaking of farm animals, we might be getting some domestic turkeys. I’ve always heard they are some of the dumbest creatures walking the face of this earth … not the wild ones, they’re supposed to be sneaky smart … but Rand said you could say that about chickens too. I don’t know, some of those chickens look like they are planning to take over the world if given have a chance; they just have the funny look in their eye especially when they catch you raiding their nest. Rand thinks he wants to try his hand at rabbit and quail too. Well, we’ve got both out in the shrubbery and we don’t have to feed them but he’s talking about domesticated versions. I don’t know … quail maybe because I’ve gotten where I like the birds we keep but rabbits look evil to me.

I know that sounds stupid but when I was little I was bitten by a rabbit and they are a lot more cantankerous than their appearance would suggest. Austin said he thought rabbits were cute and would be fun to raise. I told him, only half joking, that if he wanted more pets to take care of a worm farm would be more helpful and fewer problems. For some reason that suggestion didn’t go over as well as I thought and I got a major eye roll for Austin and Rand.

The spice blend and the taco rice mix were both big hits. People keep asking for the recipes and Missy hates giving them out. She said, “Normally I’d love to help folks out but doing this always makes me feel like I’m creating built in obsolescence for the Trade Shack. If we give away all the secrets what use will they have for us down the road?” I suppose I can understand it, but I’d rather do that than stand back and have people resent the role you play in the short term when they feel like they are suffering under a monopoly or something like that. It reminds me of the “goodwill” that Rand said he is trying to build up … it’s good for people in the here and now and you hope people will remember it later.

I did pretty well on some trades. I was nervous about a couple of them because Rand wasn’t around – he was off talking with a bunch of men about threshing – but I guess I need to accept that if I’m going to be in charge of the kitchen that means I’ve got to be in charge of other things too. I saw Ram and asked how his family was and he smiled enough to add wattage to the already bright mid-day sun. I think this is the most content I’ve ever seen Ram in all the time I’ve known him. I asked him if he’d seen anything in particular at the tables – the crowd was huge and I wasn’t sure I wanted to wade into it without good reason – and he told me of a couple that really caught my curiosity.

First table I went to had, among other things, sunflower seeds for sale; not the kind you eat but the kind you plant. I’d planted a couple but something had got a hold of mine and cut them off at the base to get at the bloom … probably a raccoon or rat … so I picked up some new seeds to start real quick and I’m going to plant them inside the fence this time.

Another table had garlic bulbs and Walking onion sets. The garlic would go a long way towards helping me fill in some gaps in my herb garden and the Walking onions – I guess some folks know them by their proper name of Egyptian onions – will mean that I’ll have new onion plants every year without having to start from seed which can be a real pain for everything except bunching onions.

Found a couple of more needles for the treadle machine which really made my day. I bent one last week and trying to straighten it I actually broke it. I cried when I did it and had a hard time explaining to Rand why I was so upset. He understood, just didn’t understand the crying part.

I wore the moccasins that Rand made for me and boy was I grateful. My ankles and legs really swelled up from being on them so much and because it was so warm today. I’m actually sitting here with my feet up now trying to get them to finish going down. Hope they go down before tomorrow. Having toes that look like little sausages is a total turn off.


April 16th – No church service today, just a quiet day sitting around the house being a lump … except for taking care of the animals, feeding the guys, getting the horn worms off of my tomato plants and throwing the jar full into the chickens and experiencing manic glee as the disgusting things added protein to my feather heads’ diet.


April 17th – Feeling a little sad today for some reason. Had a dream about my old life and realized it is just a year since I left Tampa on my own two feet. Doubt I could make the trip today. I look in the mirror and I’m hardly the same girl I was. I thought all the innocence had been rubbed off of me by the death of my family. I had no idea how much I had left to lose … or to gain. I love Rand. Love him, love him, love him.

OK, obviously I’m having a momentary fit of schizophrenia. First I’m up then I’m down then I’m up again. Is this what they call the moodiness of pregnancy? No wonder Rand gives me funny looks every once in a while. Poor guy.

Rand was gone with the thresher today, he took Austin with him and Ron Harbinger came to help out as well. Ron has lost a lot of weight. I almost didn’t recognize him. Rand said he is better than he was. I haven’t seen him in a while so he must have been really bad. Hope he can wrap his head around his troubles and work through them.

When the guys got home they were starved. They were supposed to be fed by the group that “hired” the thresher for the day but it was puny fare compared to what they are used to eating. It was nothing but a then gravy over rice with a small piece of cornbread. If I had known that I would have sent a basket along for them to eat out of. You can’t work that hard and then eat next to nothing, you’ll get sick. I made Ron stay and eat too and after some encouragement and a few bites he really dug into his plate of greens, cornbread, hog jowl, and hoppin’ John over rice.

I’m off to bed now that the dinner dishes are finished. Rand and Austin were practically falling asleep on their feet after the animals were taken care of for the evening. I told them to stop pretending that they were awake and it took them both a few minutes to catch on, that’s how tired they were. And now that I’m sitting I’m getting tired myself and the quiet house is making me kind of sad again. I’m off to bed before these stupid pregnancy hormones embarrass me by making me cry.


April 18th – Yay! I feel normal today. I know that sounds just about stupid but yesterday I can’t tell you what was wrong. Up and down and up and down and up and down … it felt like I was on a teeter totter. Today I’ve been much more balanced. Which was a good thing.

I was just cover the last seed in the new row of bush beans that I got into the ground when who should show up but Momma O and Mrs. Withrow. I was surprised and more than a little embarrassed to be found sweaty and barefoot like that. I asked the ladies to have a seat in the shade of the porch, brought out some cold, sweet tea, and begged their pardon just long enough to run inside and wash up a little bit. When they saw that I had changed clothes they scolded me a bit for fussing over my appearance just because they were around but I couldn’t help it.

I had a nice visit and the long and the short of it was they wanted to know how I was feeling and if there was anything that Rand and I needed for the baby. I told them I thought we were doing pretty well all things considered, certainly better than some stories that I had been hearing. I explained that Rand had kind of “planned ahead” when we were salvaging and they both smiled like he was the smartest man they knew. I have to admit I’m fairly partial to him as well.

But they did bring up something that I need to do. I really need to go through everything for the baby and make double sure everything is ready. I also overheard them telling Rand something that I probably wasn’t supposed to hear. A young woman that had recently started coming to our church services died giving birth to a little boy. The baby lived but isn’t thriving and most likely won’t make it either.

I try and not think too hard about something like that happening; me not making it or the baby not making it or both. But the truth is I need to think about it. What will Rand do if something happens to me and he has a baby and Austin to take care of plus Sparkleberry Ranch and everything else? He’s been kind of cranky attentive tonight; snapping at me for working too hard or being on my feet too much, not eating enough or not eating more of the healthy stuff. Then he’ll turn around and practically smother me with sweetness. I know he is worried but all I can do is ultimately prove that God is watching out for us and just … live … the baby too.

But, on the other hand, just in case … I’m making the baby a memory book. I don’t feel like rewriting everything here and it is just something personal for the baby to have just in case. I also need to make sure that I do everything I can to have other stuff prepared … mixes, canned and dried foods, convenience foods, etc. so that … well … just in case. If there is some way I need to find the Judge and talk to him privately and make sure that no one can turn around and take Sparkleberry Ranch away from Rand if something happens to me. I want to make sure that people know what my wishes are.

What a way to end the day. But I have to be practical.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 91

April 20th – Is this what “nesting” is? This driving need to make sure everything is clean and ready for the baby? Isn’t it a little early to be feeling this? Maybe not. The few people I’ve mentioned it to make it seem like it is some cute, temporary insanity all pregnant women go through. It makes me feel like they are patting me on the head and humoring me and that drives me up the wall even in the best of times. And these aren’t the best of times.

Despite all of my promises to myself not to worry things to death, it looks like maybe I’ve had good reason to worry … well, if not worry at least to be concerned. We heard this morning that raids have started up again along the river. No one is for sure if it is the same group because the methods of attack are different. It might not even be river pirates but people trying to make it look like river pirates or land raiders using the river as a temporary refuge to get them from point A to point B. No one knows … because no survivors of any of the attacks have been found.

People look like they are missing but because of how badly burned over some of the small homesteads and towns are the missing are either unidentifiable from the remains that are found or there is simply too much ground to cover to see if someone ran off or crawled off and died in the undergrowth.

I try not and dwell on it but the only way I can get away from it is to try and get my chores done. The weather has been really nice so it has actually be good to work outside. The best thing that came out of the garden today was my first sweet Spanish onions. For dinner I actually made sausage dogs with all the onions and peppers we could handle … and I’m paying for it. That’s what I’m doing sitting up here at the kitchen table with the solar lamp while Rand and Austin are asleep.

Trying to keep my mind off of the terrible indigestion I gave myself from pigging out I’ve been making a list of what I have in the garden and what I can expect out of the orchard. Last month I planted bush beans, pole beans, lima beans, cantaloupes, carrots, collard greens, sweet corn, cucumbers, eggplant, endive, lettuce, romaine, kohlrabi, mustard greens, okra, green onions, English peas, black eyed peas, peppers, potatoes, sweet potatoes, pumpkins, radish, summer squash, winter squash, tomatoes, turnips, and watermelon. I planted more of the same for successive harvests. The greens I harvest daily and the peppers are really coming in now too … bell to sweet to hot, seems you can never have too many peppers.

I planted too much cabbage. The heads this season are huge and if I have to smell cooking cabbage one more time I think I’m gonna hurl. I’ve made as much sauerkraut and I can stand to make. I’ve dried it until it looks like confetti. I’ve canned a ton of slaw. I’ve shredded the stuff and tried to hide it in some of the casseroles I’ve made. I’m just plain tired of looking at cabbage. I know I’m being ungrateful but this Sunday for the dinner on the grounds I’m making a huge bowl of cole slaw to try and “bless” some other folks with the bounty God’s dumped on us.

The mayhaws will be coming in soon and I can’t wait. The next sorghum crop needs to be planted before the end of the month and I hope to get my gladiolus bulbs in the ground in the next day or so too. Whoops, Rand is looking for me so looks like it is off to bed whether I can stand it or not. If I don’t go, he’ll want to sit with me and I won’t do that to him.


April 21st – Today was baking day and I’ve decided to write down the whole process for posterity … or at least for the baby’s memory book. First off, you have to have the wheat to grind. I’m still using some that was in Rand’s feed barrels. We’re using the older stuff before we start using the grain that we grew ourselves. Rand calls it FIFO … first in, first out.

According to one of Momma’s books on the subject of baking, the whole wheat kernel or berry is made up of distinct parts, all of which contribute to the high quality nutritional value of the wheat. The wheat has high amounts of vitamins A, E and B. Wheat berries found in the tombs of the pharaohs in Egypt and examined still contained the full range of 26 vitamins and minerals, over 2000 years after it had been harvested; you have to admit that is something amazing. The outside of the kernel is called the bran. Bran is good for the fiber that the body needs as well as helping to regulate cholesterol. It helps to detoxify the body which is an important function in our society where toxins assault us from every angle. The wheat germ is the part of the kernel that sprouts. It holds the life of the wheat, the ability to produce plants like itself. It has the highest density of vitamins B and E in the wheat. This is where wheat germ oil is found, a healthy oil that helps the body absorb vitamins that are not water soluble. Finally, the endosperm is the part of the wheat berry that holds the starch. This is the only part left in white flour. It is only the starch which breaks down into sugar in the body, and is meant as a food source for the plant as it grows, before the leaves come out and photosynthesis begins.

I know I need to teach Austin this stuff too and I keep making notes but by the time I’ve thought about something and bring it up Austin will generally say, “I know, Rand told me.” I’m not sure if that makes me feel useless or not. I’m glad that Rand is teaching Austin but, I thought I was supposed to have a hand in it someplace too.

Anyway, about making bread from scratch, now that I’ve got the structure of the wheat out of the way the next part of the equation is the grinder. There used to be all sorts of grinders on the market. Looking at Momma’s books and at the old magazines in Daddy’s files makes me think that some folks sure had it easy. I have a couple of different grinders but mostly I have to use the hand powered ones though Rand has said that when he gets more deep cycle batteries he is going to set the kitchen up so that I can use some of the old “convenience appliances” like the blender, food processor, and electric grinder on a regular basis.

The first hand grinder I have is for small batches. It bolts onto the table, you feed the grain into the hopper, and then you turn the crank handle and the flour is spit out into a bowl I have strategically placed below the grinding area. I like this grinder when I’m only doing a small amount of flour or when I want cracked wheat instead of flour or I’m making flour or meal out of harder grains like corn or legumes.

The other grinder I have is a Country Living Grain Mill. This is the grinder I use when I need to make larger batches of flour. The wheel on this mill is really big and Rand has set it up so that a belt can be placed on the large wheel and run to a bicycle wheel and peddling the bicycle powers the grinder. Now that my backside is too wide for the seat, Austin has to help first thing on Baking Day to make sure I have enough flour for everything I plan to do on those days.

First thing you want to do is keep your grain on the cool side as it is ground, that’s why I do mine first thing in the morning. If the grain gets too warm, or the resulting flour, it kind of develops this rancid odor and the flour has an off taste that can’t be baked out. It is also a good habit to never grind any more grain than what you need in a single day. I’ve goofed, or gotten distracted doing other things, so sometimes I have to bag it and put it in the cooler but not too many people have that advantage so stick with just making what you need each day.

According to one of Momma’s books, the first loaves of bread were made of loosely ground grains mixed with water and then flattened out and dried in the sun. I can’t really see trying to pass that off at the dinner table these days. But you don’t just treat fresh ground whole wheat flour the way you would the bleached white stuff that you used to get at the grocery store either. It is a different texture and has the whole grain in it, not just the starchy part.

This is how I make one of my favorite loaves of whole wheat bread. You start with one and a half cups of water. The water should be lukewarm (body temperature) to help dissolve one quarter cup of honey and support the growth of the packet of dry yeast. Honey is for flavor and also food for the yeast. Adding a quarter cup of vegetable oil makes for a cake-like texture and helps the bread stay moist. And the two tablespoons of salt brings out the taste of all the ingredients.

Combine the ingredients, including three and one-half cups of whole wheat flour, one at a time, in a large bowl – starting with the liquids and ending with the flour one cup at a time and keeping a half cup aside until the dough is ready to knead on the table top.

Blend everything with a spoon and/or your hands until it begins to form a lump. Then lightly dust the table top with some of the remaining flour, turn the mound out of the bowl, and let it rest for 10 minutes. According to the notes in the margin of Momma’s recipe book this is so the flour can more fully absorb the water.

Next, dust your hands with a little of the extra flour and begin kneading as follows: (1) gently push the dough away from you so that it flattens out, (2) give it a quarter turn and (3) fold it in half toward you. Think of it as push, turn, and fold. Repeat the process as many as 100 times, dusting your hands and the table to prevent the dough from sticking. The key here is to make sure the dough stays moist and soft – so add just enough flour during the kneading to keep the dough from becoming stiff and dry. When the kneading is done, the dough will be soft and tender like the lobe of your ear which sounds stupid but is really true if you’ve ever stopped to compare the two..

Pour a little oil into the mixing bowl, and roll the kneaded dough inside the bowl so that it is coated with the oil. Cover the bowl with a dishcloth and let it double in size in a corner of the kitchen where there are no drafts. After about an hour, punch it down in the bowl to release the bubbles made by the yeast. Turn it back onto the table top and knead it another 25 to 50 times. Shape the dough into a ball, and press it into a greased bread pan (8 1/2 by 4 1/2 inches). Cover it with a cloth, and let it rise until it’s about a half inch over the brim of the pan. Bake it at 350 degrees F for 45 to 60 minutes. To know if it is done, remove it from the pan and tap the bottom. A clear hollow sound means it’s fully baked. Set it on a wire rack and let it cool. It is actually still baking until it reaches room temperature. But in this case, temptation has its rewards and it is a true temptation for me not to sit down and eat slice after slice with fresh butter or jam.


April 22nd – No swap meet this week. Feels like forever since I’ve been to one. I’ll be going to the next one, or at least I plant to. Need to be a little more careful about putting the cart before the horse. You never know what kind of curve ball life is going to throw at you.

I’ve been a little sad today. We didn’t know one of the does was pregnant. She always looked all poked out on the sides like she ate better than good. When Rand and Austin went to feed the animals Austin came in afterwards looking like he’d been crying and walked straight to his room without a word. I looked at Rand who’d come in behind him looking grim.

“That doe, the one with the really soft ears that Austin has made a bet of a pet out of, she gave birth to twins and one of them didn’t make it.”

“I didn’t know she was …”

“I didn’t either. I think the doe is going to be all right. For all she is so dainty she’s a touch one. But I’m not sure about the remaining kid. It’s a doelet and a lot smaller than she should be. The bucklet that died was twice her size.”

With no vet we have to rely on books and experience when it comes to the animals but sometimes that isn’t enough. You can’t always save them. Heck, sometimes you don’t even know they are sick until it is too late. The other day one of my original hens was just pecked to death by the other chickens. I still don’t know why. Rand said she could have been sick but there wasn’t any obvious sign of it. She was a good layer too so it is really weird.

Tonight before we locked up the house Austin was in a better mood when Rand said the doelet is doing better but her size makes him wonder if he should counter her out of the future breeding pool in case she has some kind of genetic damage. She is a sweet looking little thing but its hard to keep animals only as pets and Austin knows that. I see him resisting the urge to get attached … because if she isn’t a breeder she is food. As harsh as that is, it is only a reflection of the world we live in.


April 23rd – “It only takes a spark to get a fire going,
The soon all those around can warm up to its glowing.”

Those are the first two lines of an old church camp song I remember my Mom singing to me when I was little. Could have been the song those cultist were singing for all I know as they sat around their campfire in the woods. Or maybe it was Kum-ba-yah or who knows what. Probably doesn’t matter but their carelessness led to the agonizing deaths of three-quarters of their members not to mention the deaths of two families of migrants holed up at an abandoned farm in O’Brien.

Ken – pastor, doctor, counselor, arbitrator, mediator, news correspondent. Events that happen in the community get relayed to the rest of us, sometimes via the pulpit, and this time with a reminder that there is a VFD any longer. We can save ourselves best by taking simple precautions to prevent catastrophes like fires. The sermon went along with his admonitions coming from Proverbs 9.

The slaw was a big hit. So were the hush puppies, fish, and cradaddies that were cooked up fresh right there thanks to one of our new families. The girl that died in childbirth not too long ago was their daughter in law.

Rand thinks I’m imagining things but I swear I’m not. And I think that Uncle George is guiding things along. Laurabeth was sitting on a blanket in the shade with Freddie. Men kept coming over to say hello … women too but mostly unattached men from my observations. I didn’t think anything of it at first, the Crenshaws are a popular family and well liked and people are happy to see Laurabeth getting better. She is most definitely better but she’s been touched for life. There are lines at the corner of her eyes ten years before there should have, her grief maturing her physically as well as emotionally. Well, it looked like Ron Harbinger could only stand to stay apart from this for so long. He started hovering around Laurabeth. Rand said he was just being protective because of Freddie but to me it looked like more than that.

Then Ron was looking at Laurabeth and he gets this funny look on his face and then it went blank. He backed up two steps … right into Uncle George who was grinning like he had a secret. Uncle George clapped him on the should and suggested that both Laurabeth and Freddie could use a walk. Ron’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times but Uncle George just keeps that smile on his face and tells Ron to go on and that some of the daffodils were still blooming in the old park nature trail and that Laurabeth was fond of them. Eventually Ron gave in but you could see he was a bit reluctant … not reluctant because he didn’t want to but reluctant ‘cause he was a little scared maybe.

I’m pretty sure that Laurabeth is oblivious to it. I’m not sure what I think. For one thing it’s none of my doggone business but on the other hand I feel I’ve got a bond with Laurabeth that wasn’t there before. I guess it is just creeping me out a little bit to see her life being manipulated from the sidelines like that. I know I wouldn’t like it being done to me but Laurabeth is a different person. Do I say something or do I keep my nose out of it?

I’ve decided that I’m going to keep my nose out of it … at least temporarily. Maybe I’ll ask Ron, but from the look on his face he might bolt if I do say something. I could ask Uncle George but he could tell me to mind my own business. I could say something to Missy but then she might say something thoughtless … though she isn’t as bad about that as she pretends to be. I don’t know, guess I’ll just have to wait and see how things turn out.

When we got home we were full as a family of ticks and Rand said not to bother cooking which was a nice break for me. We try and keep work light on Sundays but that doesn’t mean all we do is rest. The animals still have to be tended to, so does the garden, and sometimes I have a little preserving or sewing to do … but by and large we didn’t have any problems today.

I made popped wheat today and I can’t say that it is something that I would want to eat every day but it is fun for a change of pace. I had cooked up some wheat this morning but it didn’t all get eaten for breakfast so tonight I took the cooked wheat and “puffed” it in hot oil. The oil needs to be about 375 degrees F and you fry the cooked wheat for about two minutes before removing and draining really well. A lot of people salt them but I put a little cinnamon and sugar on mine and it was really good.

Austin and Rand were a little hungrier than they had thought they were going to be so I fixed them a garden salad and gave them a slice of bread, butter, and jam and that filled their empty spots. And now I’m just about all done in so I’m going to bed and I hope I get to sleep through the night this time. I swear seems like no matter what I do I have to get up a time or two in the night and go to the bathroom. Luckily we don’t have an outhouse or this would be no fun at all.


April 24th – Started harvesting the mayhaws today. You do not want to eat those things raw … ew, shiver, gak, spit. But the mayhaw jelly I made today was incredible. Crazy how something so icky turned into something so delicious I had to hide the jelly jars behind the lima beans in the pantry to keep Rand and Austin out of them.

Mayhaws aren’t very big, maybe half an inch to an inch in diameter. According to Momma’s book on the subject they are a type of Hawthorne native to the US. I had to throw a bird net over the tree because as soon as the birds saw what I was doing they came flying in. Woofer and Fraidy (now able to leave her kittens a little more) helped with some of the blackbirds but the smaller birds escaped them. But with birds in the garden I have noticed I haven’t had as many problems with locusts as some of the neighbors are reporting. The geese get their fair share of the insects as well and I’ve watched them drive off birds they think are invading their turf.

I wound up having to call Austin to help get the nets on the trees. I probably lost a couple of pounds to the birds but I still managed to pick about fifteen pounds from the trees and there is a lot of fruit still ripening. For the mayhaw jelly I took three pounds of washed berries and added four cups of water and brought it to a boil and then covered and simmered for about ten minutes. Then I ran the resulting water and pulp through cheese cloth to collect the juice. I added the pectin to that juice and brought it to a full rolling boil and then added five and a half cups of sugar and continued stirring until it returned to a hard boil again. At that point I set the timer and cooked, stirring constantly, for another full minute and then took it off of the heat source. I had foam on only one of my batches so I skimmed it off and then bottled it and ran it in the boiling water canner. The jelly sure was pretty with the sun shining through it.



April 25th – Momma O and Mrs. Withrow came by today visiting. They caught me taking a cat nap in the rocking chair on the porch. I was pretty embarrassed but at least I could tell them it was because I’d planted several more rows of dried beans in my bean gardens. They were in Momma O’s buggy but they were driven by that boy that lives with Mrs. Withrow. I set out cookies and cool apple juice in dishes that I keep for company and the boy wouldn’t touch the plates. When I told him he could have his on a napkin if he’d rather he finally relaxed and sat on the porch steps just as happy as a lark. He was so enthralled watching a ladybug that Mrs. W had to remind him to eat.

Mostly they seem to have come by just to exchange gossip but I think they were also pumping me for information on when Rand is going to have the incline machine finished and hooked up to the grinder. I told them that Rand said he wants to have everything read for ust to take to the next swap meet. I hope I didn’t speak out of turn because I have a feeling that the news is going to be all over the tri-county area within a few days.


April 26th – Rand laughed at me last night when I told him about telling Mrs. W and Momma O about the incline and grinder. He said not to worry, that all I had done was save him some work on the advertising end of things. I really need to watch that gossiping habit I’ve fallen into. I know I don’t like people talking about me behind my back, whether for good or ill, and I’m turning into a hypocrite by doing it to other people. That’s really not nice. It’s a fine line between getting news and gossiping like an old hen and I need to remember what the difference is before I get myself in trouble.


April 27th – Planted more beans again today. I think Rand is humoring me about the beans. I think they’ll come in handy and I know he likes when I thicken gravy using bean flour instead of plain flour. As a matter of fact I made some more bean flour today by taking some of the dried beans I have that are getting really hard and grinding them up into a fine powder.

Now I could use a pressure cooker to cook really old dried beans and they are just about as good as fresh but at the same time it isn’t always worth my while to do that. I’ve been supplying some beans to Ram to take and trade on his infernal trading route and he’s never made it very far before they are all gone. If Rand is going to be an “investor” in that blasted Company of Rogues that Ram has going the least I can do is support him. He’s put up with enough of my crazy ideas. Missy just reminded me to keep some of my more unusual heirloom varieties for seeds so that I can use them at the Trade Shack.

Today was supposed to be cleaning day but I was too busy getting ready for a whole passle of people that will be coming tomorrow. Rand had two new fields opened up and he is planting them all in sorghum. Mr. Coffey is also helping us to build our own sorghum mill. I wondered why he’d want to give away something that he could corner the market on and Rand told me it wasn’t like that at all.

“Babe, Mr. Coffey knows he isn’t getting any younger and to be honest he isn’t sure if his grandson is going to keep the farm up after he goes. He’s not a farmer, he’s a contraption builder and that is what he is most talented at. He knows that we value his experience and wisdom. He also knows that we want to replicate what he knows, not to run him over now that he is slowing down, but as a way to imitate the best parts of his knowledge and perfect them before he’s not around to be a mentor anymore.”

“Uh, in other words he’s flattered that we want him to teach us?”

Rand laughed and said, “Yeah, basically.”

You know, sometimes I wonder where all my education went. I could stand up and talk rings around some of my opponents in debate but these days I’m just happy to be able to string some words together that my sense and get my point across. Every once in a while I’ll catch myself writing in my journal the way I used to talk but it “sounds” funny when I read it back to myself.

I worry about what I might be teaching Austin who is more comfortable saying “hither, thither, and yonder” than “here, there, and over there.” Actually, you know who I sound like? My mother! I just realized … oh my goodness. I haven’t forgotten her voice! I haven’t!! I can always hear Daddy’s voice … always … in all the rules and stuff that I have I can hear him saying them like he is standing beside me but I was losing the memory of Momma’s voice only … only … only I didn’t lose it, it was here all the time, inside me.


April 28th – Company all day long, as a matter of fact still have the boys asleep on the floor in Austin’s room. Woofer is right in the middle and it is like a puppy fest in there. Uncle George was fine with them staying over and then coming to the swap meet with us in the morning.

I’m so tired I almost can’t see straight and I won’t be up much longer. Just waiting for the last pot to finish soaking so that I can finish washing it and go to bed. Cooked three meals for over a dozen men and boys and I was the only female there though the boys did help me get the cooked food to the table.

But I won’t complain, the sorghum is all planted – two five-acre plots of it – and now we just have to trust in God for the rest of it. Even doubling our acres planted in sorghum we still have plenty of grain left. We also have a lot of sorghum molasses left so I decided to make pecan pies for dessert to use up some of the pecans from last season that won’t last much longer.

First you pre-heat the oven to 375 degrees F. Roughly chop the pecans -- you don't want them crushed – until you have about a cup and a half of nut meats. Combine one-third of a cup of brown sugar and three eggs in a large mixing bowl and stir to combine. Add one tablespoon of cornstarch and one-quarter teaspoon of salt. Melt four tablespoons of butter and stir it in to the sugar-eggs-cornstarch mess. Add the nuts and three-quarter cup of sorghum and mix one last time. Pour everything into a prepared pie crust and tilt the dish around to make sure it's evenly distributed. Bake for 35-40 minutes, until the center is firmed up bit still a bit jiggly. (Yes, that's the official cooking term: "jiggly".) Then let the pie sit for 15 minutes before cutting.

I made four pies and I swear the men could have eat three times that many. I almost didn’t have to wash the plates. I guess that means that liked it.


April 29th – We had to be up so early today to move the incline and grinder to a special spot that Mr. Henderson had set aside for us at the field. And boy, we were so busy I almost didn’t get a chance to look around. Rand and the boys were so busy running the equipment that I had to stay to help with the paper work of taking in so much weight and returning so much.

The incline is sort of like a treadmill and we use the donkey’s to run it. No matter what reinforcing Rand has tried the antique equipment just isn’t up to Bud and Lou’s weight and none of the horses want to have anything to do with the clackety old thing. The little donkeys though just plod along and are happy to get their carrot when they do a job for so long.

The incline treadmill turns the shaft that rotates the gears that in turn run the grinding wheels. Mr. Coffey helped Rand to set some different wheels up – wheat or rye, corn, and then an adjustable one. I’m not sure how the millers did it in times past but all Rand is asking as a “toll” is for every bushel of wheat that someone wants ground we get to keep five pounds of the pre-ground grain.

The scales we used were recalibrated every hour while everyone watched but there was still some grumbling. Guess people thought they were going to get something for nothing. But most people were OK with it and said they’d been worried about Rand asking for a much higher toll than what he is.

Rand says one of the reasons why he is diversifying our income sources like he is is so that he doesn’t have to charge so high a price on any single item or service. I think he is underselling himself but he says that you have to have a balance. I guess that is true. I feel funny sometimes when I know how much Missy is getting for the mixes and stuff that I made for her.

Today I brought her cake mixes … spice cake, carrot cake, apple coffee cake, and chocolate cake. The chocolate cake got bid up ridiculously and even Missy felt bad and said that she’d only take so much and that if others really were interested they could put their names down on a waiting list. I’ve got almost two dozen orders for chocolate cake mixes for the next swap meet. Good thing I’m not much of a chocoholic and don’t mind parting with some of the cocoa in those giant tubs of the stuff I have.

It took Rand most of the day to get everything ground that people wanted ground. We came home with a lot more than I expected we would. But finally Rand decided to shut up shop about two hours before the swap meet was over and said that if enough people could get together on a given day, and if he could schedule it out far enough in advance, he’d pull the milling equipment to a central location and work things out.

Mr. Henderson told Rand, rather than hauling the milling equipment all over the place, if he wanted to set up in the empty lot across from the ranch he’d provide security … for shares of course. I like Mr. Henderson but I’m under no illusion that he isn’t out to make his ranch as successful as possible.

Saw Cassie today, she seemed … something. I don’t know if it is sad or just what. When I mentioned it to Rand he said that Mitch was “walking out” with a young woman he’d dated in highschool for a while.

“Uh oh. Is there going to be trouble?”

“No, don’t think so. Mr. Henderson seems happy with the changes in Cassie … she’s grown up the last couple of months I guess … but he is under no illusion that she’d be easy to get along with in marriage. And he likes Mitch enough that he wants to see him happy. He would have liked to tie things up neat and tidy with Mitch and Cassie making it a go of it together but he’s realist to know you can’t dictate stuff like that just because that is how you want it to turn out.”

I suppose that is true. Seems like all of the fairy tales are getting kind of thin. Laurabeth’s Prince Charming dying in battle leaving her childless and alone. Cassie and Mitch going their separate ways. Villains not renouncing their evil ways and reforming and learning to live happily ever after like the rest of us. Lots of other things like that seem to be happening recently. Doggone depressing if you think about it.


April 30th – Heard that there was another large raid by the pirates or whoever is causing these problems. Another migrant family was completely wiped out except for a little boy. Bradley’s aunt and uncle have taken him in temporarily.

Rand is on me about disappearing into the woods where he can’t find me. I told him I left a note on the kitchen counter and that it wasn’t my fault he sat his hat on top of it and didn’t see it and then got worried and cantankerous. We both wound up laughing in the end because it was silly but at the same time I know he is serious about me being more careful and not going off on my own. I suppose he as a point. Last thing I need to do is get out in the woods and turn an ankle or something. As big a round as I am now no telling what would happen.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 92

May 1st – “The water brings up what is in the well.” Words of wisdom courtesy of Momma O yesterday at church. I think what she meant was that people act the way they are on the inside. Bad people act bad because they are bad. Good people act good because they are good or because they are trying with what goodness they have in them to immolate someone else that is even better. When a bad person tries to act good, really tries, it is because there is still some good in them even if it has been drowned out by all the bad stuff they’ve done.

On the other hand it doesn’t mean that you can’t let the mud settle and bring up good water. Oh geez, now I’m starting to sound like her. Guess you’d call it philosophy, southern-style. There are worse things I can do than sound like Momma O. I’m really afraid that maybe she might not be around too much longer.

When I was in the hospital in the children’s wing for so long after the accident I was pretty self-involved; but even then there were things I couldn’t fail to see and learn. For instance, a lot of the kids on the long term ward were chronically ill or even terminally ill. I don’t know if it was being a kid or what but you could start to tell when one of the kids on the ward was reaching the end. It went beyond being frail, we were all frail. Their skin would get this funny color and go all thin and stretched looking. The older kids would sometimes get mad, like they knew they were going to miss all of the stuff that their parents and their doctors had been promising them that the next treatment would help them to live til. The younger kids would sometimes get real anxious and worried about their parents and what would happen to the people they would leave behind; they were more worried about them than they were about dying.

Momma O seems to be getting the same way. I got a little cabin fever and finally convinced Rand to let me take the pony cart and go over to see her. Mrs. Withrow and some of the other Ladies’ Auxiliary was there having tea. Every once in a while she’d say something like, “I just hate to go and leave DeLois all of this work.” Another time she said, “Kiri, I’m setting you back some of the heirloom flower seeds. You can’t forget to stop and smell the blooms God sends. Now don’t you forget. I’ve got it written down just in case.”

I didn’t know quite how to take it any more than I knew how to react to the kids when they would get that way. I’m not afraid of death but I’ve lost so much – OK, we have all lost so much – that the idea of losing one of the first people to offer me any acceptance around here just twists something deep inside me. I know better than lots of people how inevitable and unexpected death can be and that it is no respecter of age or circumstances. It chokes me up even to try and write about losing her. She’s been like a … I don’t know exactly how to say it. Not grandmother, not aunt, not mother, not sister, friend yes but more than that, mentor yes but still even more. Maybe all those things and a few more that don’t exactly have a name … an elder woman that offered me comfort, guidance, and most of all acceptance when I had had none of those things in so long.


May 2nd – I was planting my last row of black eyed peas when we got the word. At first I thought it was Momma O at the look of seriousness on Cassie’s face.

“Kiri, when’s the last time you had an MMR?” she asked.

“A what? You mean the vaccination?” I asked, confused at first as to what she meant.

“Yeah. When’s the last time you had an MMR? Can you remember?”

“I had to have one at the beginning of highschool. Why?”

“Think. How long ago was that?”

“During my freshman year … maybe three or four years ago, I can’t remember exactly. I …”

“Are you positive?”

“Well yeah. I had to have a whole slew of boosters because they couldn’t find my shot records from the hospital and Aunt Wilma freaked out and took me to the County Health Center and they shot me up so full of those things that I was sick for two days with a fever and my arms felt like they were going to fall off. Hey, what’s going on?” I asked at her sudden relief.

“One of our ranch hand’s little boys broke out in spots during the night. He was at church on Sunday. Pastor Ken says that it is measles. A couple of other kids at the ranch are running fevers too and so are some of the people my age. I had a booster for college but not everyone went to a college that required it or their booster is out of date. Poppy is really worried and he’s quarantining anyone that can’t prove they had a booster in the last five. That ‘s almost everyone. Poppy had measles had measles as a kid and his mom was pregnant at the time. He’s youngest brother was born deaf because his mom caught the measles at the same time.”

Of all the things that could go wrong with this baby, that is something I never even thought about. Cassie went on, “Ken is going to be by later. You better keep Austin close until you know for sure. And ask Rand. I can’t remember which one of our old crowd was vaccinated and which wasn’t.”

“Has word gone out to the Crenshaws?” I asked thinking of them all over that way.

“If it hasn’t gotten there yet I’m sure the news is on the way. Hoss said he was going over to his family’s place and he has to go right by the Trade Shack and was going to post a notice there.”

I didn’t mean to but I was in the middle of cooking supper when Rand came home with the thresher. I ran outside and started bawling my head off like a lunatic. I guess it had scared me more than I wanted to admit. I finally calmed down and just saved the cornbread. The only bright spot is that Austin was able to tell us for sure that he was vaccinated.

“I know you think I’m just a little kid and don’t know for sure but I do. It was a big fight between my mom and dad. Well, it wasn’t really my dad so much as the Judge. See, Mom rubbed the judge the wrong way – she could do that to people – shouting about power to the people and Mother Gaia and stuff. The judge threatened to throw her in jail for contempt and then Mom started saying things like … well, not nice things about how the government was trying to poison us and stuff. Grandpa said that made the judge suspicious and he asked for all my medical records and when he found out I hadn’t been vaccinated he gave a court order forcing Mom to take me to the doctor or lose her parental rights and junk. So I got all my shots. Look, I even have a scar where one of them got flamed and infected.”

Showing us a small round circle on his left bicep Rand asked, “You mean enflamed Buddy?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess. Flamed, enflamed, it swelled up real big. Mom pitched a real fit and screamed she was going to sue the judge. It was an awful mess,” and Austin shrugged as only a kid knows how like that explained everything else that needed saying. I should know that shrug. It wasn’t too long ago that I used it fairly regularly as my main method of communication when any subject was getting uncomfortable. Why do I suddenly feel like somebody’s grandma? Maybe because I have more to worry about.

Ken did come by and the first thing out of his mouth was, “I don’t want you to worry.” Like I’m going to be able to abide by that particular rule. I know that I’m not supposed to worry. Ken had even preached on it a couple of months back, how it was a sin and all that. Well if I won’t call it worry then, I’ve just got a major concern over several items currently going on in my life. There, how’s that for rationalization?


May 3rd – More cases of measles. Laurabeth is won’t let anyone near baby Stevie except for Ron. Alicia is running scared because she can’t remember whether she was vaccinated or not, probably not, Tommy neither. She thinks her parents took the religious exemption. Uncle George came around to check on us and he said they’ve set it up so that no one can get up to the house and even the Trade Shack is shutting down for a few days to try and break any potential chain of infection. Scary times we live in.


May 4th – No new cases of measles have been reported but Ken said until a week has passed with no new cases no one should let their guard down. It has me thinking, what happens to all the kids who never had vaccinations or to the babies being born now? What happens when someone gets careless or is exposed through no fault of their own? How many of us will have to pay for someone else’s mistake?

I looked in the old family Bible, the one that Momma inherited when her folks died. My grandmother lost two baby sisters to diphtheria. I knew that Daddy lost a brother he never knew to measles. Lots of kids died before they should have just a couple of generations back. Polio, measles, diphtheria, whooping cough, lock jaw that goes by the fancy name of tetanus … there are already cases of yellow fever along the Gulf Coast and Ken says we’ve been lucky not to have seen it yet along the river here.

I’m beginning to wonder if I’m ever going to be able to protect this baby from the bad stuff that can happen. Isn’t that a mother’s job? To protect her baby? But what if I do something stupid and thoughtless and my baby has to suffer the consequences?

Rand and I talked about it some after dinner. He’s concerned but there is only so much he can do. He’s trying to keep us fed and clothed right now and give us a little “money in the bank” in case things get tough this summer. He seems to act like he only has ten weeks until the world could be coming to an end again. I’ve seen this calendar he’s made up. Seriously. I don’t have the heart to tell him that Ken thinks I might be further along because I’m getting so big so quickly. But I think that Ken has said some things to Rand that they aren’t letting me in on. Drives me batty.

Coincidentally ten weeks is how much time I’m “supposed” to have until the baby is born. According to The Book … that’s how Rand talks about it like it is in caps … the baby weighs about three pounds. The little spud has eyelashes and eyebrows and is supposed to be able to recognize light and dark and even track light it sees outside its momma’s belly. But it can’t come out and play yet.

That doesn’t mean the baby can’t freak me the heck out though because I swear I thought I was going to have the little tadpole this morning. That’s why Ken came by today. Turns out it was fake labor, these things called Braxton-Hicks. They are kind of like your body is practicing for labor but isn’t really in labor. Ken said I would know when it was real labor because it would hurt. Great. Just what I wanted to hear.

Now I’m off to bed and I hope that I actually get to sleep through the night. Seems like I’m getting up at least once or twice to go to the bathroom now. And last night I even had to wake Rand up to help me get out of bed ‘cause I had to go so bad. Talk about embarrassing. I’m not sure he was awake enough to do much good but give me a little push but it was enough that both of us giggled a little after dinner when I bumped my belly on the table trying to stand up. Austin wanted to know what the joke was. Wish I could have explained it but I’m not sure I understand what was so funny either.


May 5th – Gosh I’ve been so moody lately. I cry for no reason or turn around and feel mad for no reason. I told Rand that he might as well send me to live with the chickens at this rate, at least he’d get more sleep. Then he made me cry buckets by tell me he wouldn’t have me any other way and that as soon as the baby was born I’d feel more like my old self.

I hope not too much like my old self; I want to be better than that. I need to be better than that so that I can be as good a Momma as my Momma was.

For now though I’m just feeling scared. So much death around. Ken was right to have us wait on thinking we’d gotten lucky. The measles hit the immigrant camp. It isn’t the little kids that are dying though; it is the college age people. That would be people Rand’s age or thereabouts. I’m glad Rand had his booster for college but a lot of his friends that didn’t go to college aren’t sure whether they are still protected or not.

Planted some more okra today but just about passed out from the heat. I can’t get away from it, it follows me around behind me like my belly is in front of me. Rand came in from threshing and found me threatening to shave myself ball headed and run around without a stitch on.

He said, “I’d like to see that … the second part, not the first. I’ll go to the Trade Shack and see if they have …”

“No, don’t do that. It’s too late and too hot to do the mules like that for something stupid like this. I just need to lay down for a little while. Can you and Austin eat leftover beans and cornbread? I’ll make a salad to go with it but the idea of heating up the stove again …”

“We’re fine. If we want a salad we know how to fix it. You go lay down in the hammock.”

“I’ll lay down but not in the hammock. Last time I got in that thing I nearly didn’t get out. And besides the bugs will be out soon. Rand I’m sorry that I’m so slow. I’ve still got weeks to go and I’m not being much help at all.”

“Do you hear me complaining?” he laughed. “I might actually finally be able to catch up with you for a change.”

So I did lay down and I actually slept for a little while. Rand and Austin are taking a late shower to try and cool down themselves and then we are all going to go to bed. It just doesn’t make any sense to sit around miserable when we are this hot and tired.


May 6th – Hot, hot, hot. I don’t remember it being this bad last year. Filled the tub with cold water and just wallowed in it like an old pig. I swear, my belly works as well as a life preserver; could barely stay down in the water ‘cause I kept popping up. And no, I don’t find it funny at all, especially when I’m trying to climb out without help. Grrr.


May 7th – Church today but Rand didn’t want me to go. He told me to stay in bed for as long as I wanted. I got up after they left anyway but I walked around the house in as few clothes as I could handle. No one was around to see my scars and stretch marks so I thought I’d take advantage of the peace.

When the guys came home from lunch I had a cold garden salad ready for lunch. I also had some cornbread and cold buttermilk ready. Dinner was empanadas that Ram had sent over after hearing how much the heat was getting to me.

Turns out I’m not the only one suffering with the heat and that it isn’t my imagination that it is hotter than it was last year. As a matter of fact it is hotter than it has been in several years. People’s gardens are suffering and it is only the beginning of May. There was a special prayer for rain ‘cause if this keeps up we are going to be in a lot of trouble before too much longer.


May 9th – Death, death, death. It seems to follow me where ever I go. You’d think after everything I’d expect and accept it more. But death is the one thing guaranteed to make me feel like fighting no matter what. Rand practically ordered me to bed yesterday. It made me so mad on top of everything else but I didn’t have to do anything because Missy frogged him in the arm really hard for me and told him to stop being such a pig.

She all but duck walked me into the bedroom, calmed me down and I somehow wound up lying down and resting when I hadn’t meant to. I was beginning to drift off when I heard Missy quietly leave the room.

“Ow!” Rand yelled. “Stop hitting me Missy! Once was enough already.”

“Shhh! You deserve it you idiot. You’d think you would be smarter by now,” she hissed back at him.

“Huh?” I heard him ask, more quietly than before.

“How long have you and Kiri been together? You really think she’s going to take the news about Tommy calmly? We’re all a little nuts over it but you know how Kiri is about the boys. Look at Austin and Mick out there. Didn’t you see her? The first thing she did was step between them and that guy that was with Ram and that was before she’d heard the news. I’ve seen her do it before and she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. Mick told me one time that every once in a while she’ll call him ‘Michael.’ “

“I … I guess I didn’t think. All I saw was that she was getting … You know I worry about her. She can just get so … so …”

“Rand, she’s been through a lot in her life. And admit it, she’s a lot more capable than you want to give her credit for being. Not to mention that you’re just like Dad … over protective.”

“It’s not that. I love that she is who and what she is. But you don’t know some of the stuff … some days she seems so fragile. And with this baby she just seems … I’m worried Missy.”

“You mean you’re scared. Don’t you think Bill was scared before I had the baby … and a few times since. Don’t you think that Dad has gone slightly demented each time one of us get preggars? And don’t you think we all understand how what happened to Laurabeth could happen to any of us? Trust me Cuz, we’ve all been dealing with the boogey men that could right along beside you.”

Rand gave a deep sigh, “I know. I … I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to her. And it’s not just because I couldn’t raise a baby by myself either. I’m scared what is going to happen to her if … if something happens to the baby. She hasn’t said much but … Missy, what if something happens to the baby and she gets so angry she wants to leave me? You saw how Laurabeth was. You’re right, Kiri has already fought some battles she never should have had to. What happens …”

I got the sense that Missy had reached out to Rand in some way. “You aren’t going to like hearing this Rand anymore than I like saying it. Sometimes there isn’t a thing you can do about the “what if’s” and you just have to deal with the “what are’s.”

“Easy for you to say,” Rand grumbled.

“No. No it really isn’t Rand. I don’t like admitting it but I’ve had to grow up in ways that maybe I never would have if I hadn’t met Bill and if the world hadn’t fallen apart. I would have been my mom all over again and that would have been a disaster. My step mom wasn’t much better either. She wanted Dad to be like he was and yet she never really appreciated it. Kiri … Kiri’s good for you. She’ll stand up to you without pouting or pulling that passive aggressive stuff that Julia used to. At the same time, she gives into you enough because she wants … well genius, in case you’ve missed it Kiri is afraid of losing you too. Look how she was after those Russians …”

“Yeah, don’t remind me. Look, you’d tell me if she said anything about … about being scared or whatever? Right? I know I can’t protect her – or me – from everything, but I don’t want her to build those walls of hers back up. I think that is what scares me the most, something happening and her doing what Laurabeth has done.”

“Relax Cuz, Kiri has already walked that road and I think she’s got sense enough to pick a different path if ever faced with something like that again. I only wish I could say the same for Dad and Alicia. They are both so tore up you’d think Dad had raised Tommy from the beginning and he’s pretrified that Janet is going to go the same way even though that can’t happen since she must have had ever vaccine known to man since birth. You know how Dad has always been about that stuff. Between the Vet for the cattle and the Peditrician for us kids; it would have been cheaper if Dad had just gone to medical school himself. And Alicia … she’s so angry she doesn’t know what to do with it all. Brendan took her out to the hay barn, shut the door and just let her beat on the bales out there to work it off. I think she’s got some of it out of her system but Alicia is one of the ‘still waters run deep’ kind of people and it is just going to take a while.”

Rand asked, “How’s Mick taking it?”

“About like you’d expect. I think Dad is missing it. Bill tried to talk to Mick but he’s just shut himself up. But Ron … I don’t know but I think Laurabeth asked Ron to say something and maybe it took because right before we came over here Mick finally sat down and cried some. I was beginning to wonder if he would.”

Even as I felt myself falling asleep while they continued to talk – my body betraying me again or maybe trying to save me despite myself – I realized that Rand really was a whole lot like Uncle George, in ways I’d never really seen before. He could be over protective to the point of making me a little crazy sometimes. Maybe Julia liked that, heck even I like the idea of it, but it isn’t healthy and I’m glad I’ve put my foot down a few times … for both our sakes. And I have a feeling that Rand has put up with a lot from me that another guy wouldn’t have just like Uncle George put up with from his wife. It gave me something to think about besides poor Tommy.

When I woke up the late afternoon sun had already run to the other side of the house and the room was pretty dark. I was disoriented at first and then I remember. Oh God. Tommy. Poor Tommy.

He hadn’t been feeling well but no one really remarked on it. He is … was … so pale and fair and the heat didn’t do him any good either. Everyone just thought that was what it was, and it may have been at first. No spots so there wasn’t anything to worry about, or so was thought. Then in the night he woke Mick up having some kind of seizure. Missy said that Ken called it a febrile seizure. Missy said his temperature went over 105 degrees F, and that was the few times they could actually get a reading because he kept having the seizures. Not even bathing him in fresh well water would bring the fever down.

There isn’t really anyway to say for sure but apparently Ken said that Tommy had one of rarest of complications from measles – encephalitis. That’s where your brain swells. It only happens in about 1 in 1000 cases, but it does happen. That’s why measles can be so dangerous. I asked them how they had known it was measles when he didn’t have spots. Bill, who had brought Missy and Mick over, said that Tommy had Koplick Spots inside his mouth. Those are little white spots that are the precursor for the red rash that breaks out on the body. I never knew any of that. It is scary how much I don’t know.

Today has been about like you would expect. They buried Tommy last night. I know that seems like a rush but what choice did they have in this heat? No funeral homes, no ice houses … the alternative is pretty well unthinkable for me. I had a nightmare about that house I got the food from when I was biking up here for the first time in I don’t know how long. I spent a long time in the bathroom puking when I jumped out of bed in the middle of the night.

Austin has spent a lot of time with the animals but I think he’ll be OK. He keeps asking me though am I for sure that my MMR is up to date. I think he is scared for the baby now. He was talking and talking and talking about being a big brother and suddenly he won’t say boo about it. I guess there is a lot of stuff we are all too afraid to talk about.


May 10th – Travel is still restricted in our community. We’ve heard that measles cases are being reported up and down the river now. The military has gotten involved. They are quarantining areas and blocking roads for all the good that will do. When people want to slip out and around, they’ll find a way. There is a lot of talk that maybe the pirates are doing it on purpose as there’s been some rumors that some raiding parties have kidnapped infected kids and they’ve just turned up in places further up or down the river. Weird.

We are all sad but as unconscionable as it seems life must go on. We’ve got Austin and the baby to think about and the animals count on us too. Threshing has pretty much come to a halt so Rand has been around and has been working on our own fields for a change.

I made Red Onion Jam today to use up some of those big, red hamburger onions that seem to like the back corner of the garden so much. I peeled and julienned three cups of those onions and then poured over them one and a half cup of apple juice and three quarter cup of red wine vinegar. The kitchen really stunk and Rand walked in only to turn around and walk back out again and say that he and Austin would eat their lunch on the porch if I didn’t mind and did I really think those fumes were good for the baby. I laughed for the first time in days. I’ll take onion fumes over cabbage fumes any day of the week.

Next I added one teaspoon of dried sage, a half a teaspoon of ground black pepper, five cups of white sugar mixed with one half cup of brown sugar, and lastly a half teaspoon of margarine to draw out the sugar in the onions and help them caramelize. I put the whole mess on high heat and brought it to a full rolling boil, added my pectin, and then boiled it until the syrup jelled. Then I put it in prepared jars and processed them.

Ram showed up for lunch claiming that he’d been following the odor of the onions for the last two miles. I would have thrown something at him if I hadn’t been so eager to hear how the Crenshaws were doing.

“Very sad. Very sad. But that is as it should be and now they will heal, even Alicia. She knows that Tommy is in Heaven and that she will see his sweet face again. That brings her great comfort. It will just take time … for all of us. The boy was … he was gentle, kind, and …” Ram turned away to blow his nose and none of us needed him to continue. Tommy was fragile in a bad way and I’d always worried about how he was going to grow up and be able to survive emotionally. I imagined Mick would protect him but that couldn’t have lasted forever. And now … I guess I’ll just have to add the why of it to the long list of questions I want the answer to when I see Him in person. Life just sucks sometimes and it’s rarely fair. I don’t understand why it has to be like that.


May 11th – Potatoes. They are beautiful.

Well, not really. Actually they are brown and dirty and give me the chills when I picked them up out of the sand without gardening gloves on but even so they’ve got a specialness to them that goes beyond looks. Bless Ram for sending these to me.

We aren’t the only ones in the area growing potatoes. Some people were smart enough to hang onto some from before the trains stopped running, but our potato field is the largest though nowhere near as large as we one day want it to be. If it wasn’t for Fraidy I doubt we would have had anything. She has done her job on the moles and we’ve got what looks like a fox in the area that has a den of kits doing a job on the ones in the fields.

We did have a few plants on the outside rows that got hit but not too bad. If the rows had been any shorter it would have been bad but like I wrote, we had enough that losing a few to moles didn’t hurt too bad. I’ve already got the dehydrators full of slices that are drying.

Alicia came by today to help. Brendon brought her and the baby and I think it did them good. Austin just hugged on her and hugged on her and she admitted that Mick had been doing the same.

“Kiri, part of me feels like my heart is broken permanently but … but another part of me? I have to say that … oh this is going to sound just awful.”

“Alicia, compared to some of the things that have come out of my mouth I doubt you could say anything that would shock me or be that bad,” I told her.

“Kiri, I’m … I’m relieved,” and she burst into tears.

Well, it wasn’t exactly what I expected to hear but I let her finish so that I wouldn’t put my foot in my mouth.

“It is like a circle has closed. I always worried about Tommy. He was … you know Daddy … well … I was always scared that Tommy was going to turn out like our mother, unable to cope with real life. I’d see signs of it every once in a while. He was getting better than he used to be but … it’s like a circle has closed. Mom then Dad and now Tommy. Like a chapter has closed. God, I’m an awful person.”

“Alicia, I can’t even pretend to understand. I saw some pretty wicked things from the kids in foster care and well, life pretty much bites really bad sometimes. Instead of beating yourself up over being relieved, why don’t you just be happy for Tommy.”

This time it was my turn to shock her. “What?”

“You know, all that stuff that Ken is always talking about. Tommy’s got it, he’s living it. In Heaven … no tears, no pain, no worries, all of it. Maybe it would be nice for us if he’d been destined to stay here but, for whatever reason … Look, I haven’t got a whole lot of room to talk. I got really messed up after my parents and little brother died. I was awful mad for a long time. But in the end you can’t change what has happened and if you really love someone you … you want what is best for them. In this case maybe staying with us wouldn’t have been the best thing for Tommy. Life is hard enough these days without … you know … being able to cope with … with stuff.” I shrugged too afraid of saying anything more and really messing things up.

We kept peeling potatoes, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I don’t think of my little brother very much. For one thing it hurts and for another … he was just eight and it seems so long ago that he was in my life. But for a little while I gave some thought to all the good memories I had … playing pioneer in his little red wagon, putting up with my Barbies getting drafted by his GI Joes, coming home camp to find that he wouldn’t sleep in his bed and had spent the week sleeping in mine, the forts we built together, the holes we had dug to China. He could be weird and obnoxious but he was my little brother. I hope that Alicia has some good memories in there that she can hang onto and not just the ones where her parents were so awful.

In addition to those that we sliced for drying we canned several loads of the smaller potatoes. Even doing it outside we both were soaked through with sweat by lunch time. We’d made sandwiches a really early lunch because we wanted to have dinner before they left for the Crenshaw place. I almost couldn’t eat I was that done in.

We fixed mashed potatoes, cornbread, sliced tomatoes, greens, and for the occasion I fried up a chicken that had started coming at us claws first anytime we tried to get near the chicken coop. Rand said he’d never seen such an aggressive chicken; roosters yes, chicken no. She’d never really laid eggs either. Rand thought that maybe she was a hormonally mixed up thicken, one that thought she was a rooster. You get those every once in a while. I remember Momma saying, “A whistling woman and a crowing hen always come to some bad end.” Well, I guess for a chicken being dinner rather than the guest is just about as bad an end as you can come to.

After Brendon, Alicia, and the baby left I did the few remaining dishes and then told Rand that I was taking a shower and to call me when summer was over. I noticed Austin was pretty tired at dinner and sure enough as I passed his room he was a sleep across his bed. I hadn’t been in the shower a minute before I got company. There was barely room for the two of us in there at the same time but everything worked out to our mutual enjoyment.

Rand left Austin asleep and put the animals up by himself. He was a sweaty mess when he came back in and had to take another shower, this time by himself. I’ve thrown sheets over all the cushions. No matter where to sit or how few clothes you have on you still get sweaty. The sheets help some but not as much as I’d like and I think I’m going to have to take the covers off the sofa and chair cushions and wash them and pray they don’t shrink. I might have to wash the cushions too or at least try and rinse them. Everything smells of sweat and BO these days.

Tomorrow is supposed to be Baking Day but I can barely stand the idea of getting the oven going. It might be good to keep the baking to a minimum anyway. While we’ve got more than a little flour – both from our own crop and from the shares people pay for Rand to run the thresher and grinder – we need to be conscious of being frugal because just because we have it today doesn’t mean that we can get it tomorrow. I might do laundry instead, or at least our sheets. The pillows too. Maybe Rand will help me wash my hair.

Or maybe I’ll wait until after the Swap Meet on Saturday. I’ve heard folks are real eager for Missy and Bill to have their stand open. The outbreak and then … then Tommy’s passing … has kept the Trade Shack closed for a while and it caught the community off guard. They’ve become dependent on the Shack for trade goods and for news. There will be as much gossiping as bartering going on most likely.

But now it is time for me to try and get some sleep, assuming Junior will let me. I’ve got a watermelon that’s a night owl inside me.