Story To All Things There Is A Season

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Part 11: Filling the Days (Part 1)​


Man is so made that he can only find relaxation from one kind of labor by taking up another.
Anatole France (1844 - 1924), The Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard

There is a difference to the days when you are working to subsist and when you are working to expand and thrive. Before Mateo came home my days were filled with mostly trying to make ends meet and making sure there would be food on the table that day … and maybe tomorrow. With Mateo’s return not only was I thinking of food for tomorrow but food for the coming winter and next spring and beyond. No longer did I have to worry about being the only one gathering enough wood to keep us warm for the day; Mateo’s longer arms and greater leverage helped to create a wood pile that would last us a month if we didn’t add to it. His goal was six months at a time but that would depend on how cold it got in the coming months.

Mateo didn’t just bring home wood when he went out. He brought home a lot of things I hadn’t even thought to salvage: door knobs and locks; door hinges, light bulbs, the motors out of ceiling fans, all of the gizmos from inside HVAC units, fancy light fixtures, cabinet knobs, mirrors, window shades, door knockers, filing cabinets, copper piping, extension cords, heavy outdoor planters, stacking plastic chairs, folding tables, pool equipment, metal shelving from storage sheds and garages, and so much more as to make my head spin. He stacked the aluminum that I had layered upstairs neatly and even matched up like pieces in case we needed to put them back together for something. At first glance it looked like the barn was turning into a junk yard but if you looked more closely you could see an inventory system actually did exist. Mateo has everything organized – nearly over organized if such a thing is possible – and I don’t even like to go into some of the stalls for fear of messing up whatever he is in the middle of.

Early one morning Mateo came running back to the house causing my heart to jump into my throat in fear. His hurried words didn’t help. “Get the children inside!” He ran for one of the large caliber rifles before rushing back down the street towards the canal. My nerves were on edge for several minutes before there was a loud shot that seemed to echo forever. It was another forty-five minutes and I was this close to going to look for him when I saw him coming back to the house out of breath and filthy.

I ran towards him bringing a canteen of fresh water. He guzzled it down and the said, “I give up.”

“Give up what?!” I asked shaking like a leaf from nerves.

“God never does anything by half measure,” was his response.

“Mateo you aren’t making a bit of sense.” In the distance I heard several loud crashes. “Who are they? What do they want?!”

“Who? Oh … oh Leah, I … Oh Dios, my poor Corazon … it isn’t a who, they are a what. And by the sound of them if I don’t figure out how to cage them, they will get away from us.”

The long and the short of it is that a boar, a couple of sows, and some piglets startled Mateo while he was out salvaging. The boar tried to gore him and ran him up a tree for a moment. He was eventually able to lock the two sows and their piglets in a house. The boar tore off in the opposite direction and in the process became bogged down on the bank of the canal with predictable results. The shot was Mateo putting the mortally wounded hog out of his misery right before a gator took him under for the final time by rolling.

It was not fun trying to wrangle the remaining hogs. I finally resorted to pacifying them with some of the garden refuse I would normally have put in the compost as well as a scoop of dried corn mixed in. That did it. They went to town and then settled down to feed their young.

Mateo and I spent the rest of the day using chain link fence that he’d brought home to build two large pens in the only place we had left which was between the pond and the barn. The barn formed one “wall” and then we built the other three walls using an oak tree as one corner and a cyclone fence post for the other. We sank the fence walls two feet into the ground using a trench and then backfilling to keep the pigs from rooting their way out and to keep anything from digging their way in.

We had to finish the upper part of the fence the next day because it took a long time that we did not have much fun in trying to move the hogs from the house to their new pens. Before we did anything else we tagged which piglet went with which sow using powdered, colored chalk. After that we roped the sows and I bribed them every couple of yards to cooperate and follow where we pulled them. The piglets were so young they were practically still attached to their mommas so it was just a matter of shooing them along and trying not to step on any of them when they would run under our feet.

In the days that followed Mateo added more space and a little chute kind of deal that the piglets could get away from the sows by going through. He realized we didn’t need to make it so tall as we had the first pen but he did wind up adding braces to the walls. I left him to it – he was devouring all the books we had on animal care and husbandry – as I had my own work cut out for me; I was adding more garden spaces. Not only did we need more food for ourselves but now I needed to provide feed for all those new hungry mouths that God was sending our way. The pigs got all of the peels and spotted or bruised pieces from the fruits and vegetables, most of the plant tops except for the alliums like onions and garlic, and the stalks of plants once I found out what they liked. I added a small scoop of our dried corn until our fresh corn started coming in, then I cut it down to every other day.

My deciduous trees gave me fruit a couple of weeks late, but they did give me fruit … peaches, nectarines, and figs were such a delicious addition to our table that it was hard to hold some back for preserving. I planted new rows of beans every few days and just about worked myself silly trying to keep up with the production’s harvest. The melons gave more than we could eat fresh though I lost several to invading raccoons until I figured out how to keep them out by fencing off each individual fruit as it matured. I had tried putting a container over the fruit but I left one on too long and the fruit eventually grew to fill the inside of the old plastic milk jug. It was a funny sight to see a milk jug shaped melon once I finally cut the container away.

Winter squash, zucchini, yellow crookneck squash … any squash I had seeds for … grew pretty well though they were a ton of work since they spread so quickly. But it was either keep them covered at night or come the morning discover that the raccoons and opossums had eaten them all. I noticed a large Himalayan cat had moved back into the neighborhood … a large, hairy male Himalayan cat … and after that there were fewer baby raccoons to have to deal with. Fewer squirrels too which had been a real pain in the corn patch. Every once in a while I would hear a cat fight so I knew there was more than one around but there was no way I was going to make friends with the thing. I’d made the mistake of thinking he was just a big fuzzball lost and looking for a new home and tried to talk to him one time when I saw him while I was helping Mateo bring in some wood. Uh uh, never again. I actually like cats but I swear this one was part mountain lion or something. It growled at me and since I’m college educated I was able to decipher from all the noise that while I could look, touching would not be the brightest idea I had ever had.

The sweet potatoes did well towards the end of June and a prayer was answered when it looked like the peanuts were also making even if they were going to be late doing it. My potted tropical fruit trees and bushes were doing OK but nothing worth taking out a full-page ad for. The strawberry quava, cherry of the rio grande, and Persian limes did the best of all of the potted exotics, but I think that is because I took so much care of them in the beginning when I still could.

As June moved into July the rain finally slacked off and the temps consistently reached the low eighties every day but that was still ten to fifteen degrees cooler than it should have been. In one respect it was pleasant but in another it was worrisome, but since it was one of the things I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I couldn’t do anything to change I did what my mother always said to do and “left it on the altar.” Strangely enough when I did that I was rewarded though it became progressively more difficult for me not to go back and pick it back up and add it to what I already carried around in my worry sack.

God continued to provide. We added some very ugly ducks to our menagerie. And when I say ugly I’m not kidding. None of them matched each other. They are a complete patchwork of other ducks. Some remind you somewhat of mallards and then others drive you crazy trying to figure how what duck species they are most similar to. They are the calicos of the duck world. The drakes are easily the oddest looking as they have very distinctive facial features. The drakes also fight with each other and it is no joke when they do it because they have claws on their toes. The drakes will also fight with other animals and people if they get in the mood so I’m always mindful when the children are out there with me. And I was out with the ducks quite a bit trying to clean up after them, gracious they are messy. Luckily we need the fertilizer, so I always have someplace to dump it.

We took over the Nelson’s backyard and even some of Mr. Houchens’ as well as we were running out of room. Three acres may sound like a lot but when you are trying to feed a family year ‘round from what you can produce it really isn’t. The first attempt at the garden expansion was almost a failure. I came out one morning to spy deer raiding the new green shoots. The deer ran off at my scream and just as quickly Mateo came running to me.

“Leah!”

“That … that monster … it was eating my corn!!”

After I calmed down and explained – actually Nydia explained because I was stomping around, ready to pop a blood vessel at the animals’ audacity – Mateo measured and left to collect more fencing. When he came back I was still livid.

“Corazon,” he said trying to soothe my temper. “It is bad, but not the end of the world.”

I nearly turned on him with a snarl but caught myself in time. “Those creatures were taking food out of our children’s mouths!”

Calmly he said, “Yes. And if I get a chance they will become food for our children’s mouths.”

His measured response caught me off guard. Stopped me cold if I’m honest, and left me silent. I thought for a moment and then realized I had only been seeing the negative and not the potential good.

“There are deer,” I said in wonder. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen deer around here.”

“I know I’ve never seen them though I heard when I first moved in that occasionally small ones would come out of the swamp during the dryer months.”

“The ones I saw just now weren’t small. They were White Tails. I know they were.”

Mateo stopped using the post hole digger for a moment and asked, “They were what?”

“White Tailed Deer. My father would hunt them when I was younger before my cousins sold their acreage in Georgia. Momma used venison the same way, and as often as, most people used beef.”

“Well,” Mateo said after thinking a while. “I suppose it only makes sense that wildlife would move into the suburbs after all this time. When I was down in south Florida even the zoo animals could be found wandering around on occasion … although most of them were killed and eaten before officials could come collect them.”

Mateo told me that as the infrastructure collapsed people released their pets to fend for themselves. The same thing happened at petting zoos and eventually large zoos also became compromised in some way, including from bombings, and animals would escape. We both wondered for a bit about Lowry Park Zoo and Busch Gardens but were unwilling to waste time away from our own concerns at home just to satisfy our curiosity. We had enough to deal with without taking on more that had no practical return for us. Any animal still locked up would be a carcass and we didn’t need to go looking for trouble in case other such exotic species were on the loose. I wondered briefly about salvaging for animal feed but soon realized my wits must be begging as at this late date animals would have already found it or likely groups like Capt. Tag’s would have already thought of it and cleaned the place out. I was briefly depressed over a hypothetically missed opportunity, but it was Mateo that said, “We have enough for now, no sense borrowing trouble. Once I’ve cleaned out the houses in a one-mile radius then we can think about a trip further afield. God has given us quite a bit to manage already.”

Mateo had changed, was changing, and sometimes it was hard for me to keep up. In the beginning he saw church as my hobby. Eventually he came to understand how important my faith was to me, how much I depended on the strength I found in it; he understood the how but not necessarily the why. He never made fun of me, never hindered me exercising my faith and eventually even participated somewhat, but always as a kind of spectator. I was used to him following my lead in that area of our lives, humoring me, going as a family because it appeared to be the right thing to do and because it kept the peace.

But something happened to him at some point to cause a change. He was always the head of our house but on many things our duties and responsibilities were sharply split into categories that were either “his” or “hers” with just a few that were “ours.” These days many more were “ours” with far fewer that could be defined strictly as “his” or “hers.” And one of those “ours” was now our family’s interaction with our faith. The differences went beyond the fact that I no longer had to ask him to say Grace before our meals. It went beyond that I no longer was the only one reminding Nydia to say her bedtime prayers; Mateo was actually teaching Neeno to do this as well and all without my prompting or bringing the idea up in the first place.

It seemed that as time and events in this life wore at me, even taking my energy to call on my faith, Mateo would stand in that gap for me, for us. He wasn’t a candidate for the Amen Pew yet, but he was seeing God’s hand in areas of our lives where my worry and fatigue was blinding me. I would laugh and joke about stuff being Providential, I would even believe it for the most part, but Mateo was really living the faith while some days I only felt like I was playacting it.

He was much less like a string that was pulled almost too taut. He seemed less afraid of his own strong emotional reactions to things and as a result he managed them better and was easier inside his own skin. It used to be that Mateo always seemed to have so much leftover energy that it wafted around him like static electricity looking for a target. Now he used both his mind and body so much that at the end of the day he could actually relax. He had concerns and still made plans, but he no longer worried at them the way he had in the past. He strove to make our lives better day by day and into the far future but he was also content with what we had in the here and now. Some days I felt like I barely made it through the day and was left unable to envision a far-flung future.

One such day came when I realized that Nydia’s treasure box was empty. I tried to provide a treat for her every once in a while just because. She helped so much even as young as she was that I tried to recognize these in tangible ways. I honestly don’t know how I would have gotten everything done in a day without her help with Neeno or with toting and carrying things for me. The treats were not anything special or of great value - a new pencil, a new rubber band for her hair, a few pretty beads for her to string and wear, an unused crayon or marker. Rarest of all were the times when I had given her a piece of candy or a safety sucker. She never asked for these things, it was just something I did because I could … only now I couldn’t. Everything was used up or gone. For some reason that fact just broke my heart.

I thought that I would make candies and wrap them like the store bought candies and refill the chest at least partially that way but as I looked over our food inventory I became concerned. I had used as little of all the sweeteners as I could but we would eventually run out no matter what I did … and sooner rather than later. Soon the lack of sugar added to my upset over no candy for Nydia. I thought all day, but nothing came to mind. I was almost resolved to use a little of the sugar anyway. I told Mateo but he said, “I may have an idea, give me an hour in the morning before you finish deciding.”

If I had hoped he had found a secret stash of food I would have been disappointed. I was putting breakfast on the table when he came in. “I have a surprise for my girls.”

Nydia and I immediately grew suspicious; the last few “surprises” Mateo brought us had entailed a lot of extra work. “Did I ever tell you how poor my Abuelo and Abuela were? And their parents before them? I did? Good. Did I ever tell you they were so poor they never had store bought candy? No? Well it’s true. In fact, my own mother didn’t have store bought candy until my father bought her some lemon drops on their first date.”

Nydia nodded and said, “That’s like us Poppy.”

I saw Mateo hide a wince. “Not quite Baby Doll,” I told her. “For us the reason we don’t have store bought things is because there are no stores around here.”
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Part 11 - 2

Mateo gave me a grateful look for my understanding then told Nydia, “Listen to Nonny, she knows things. But just like Nonny knows how to make do without stores so did my grandparents and after breakfast I’ll show you the surprise.”

We sat down to scrambled duck eggs, squirrel sausage, fried sweet potato cakes, grits, and pan gravy. After the dishes were stacked for washing we followed Mateo onto the lanai where a stick was leaning. I was practically on top of it before I realized what it was. My mouth twitched trying to hide my smile so I wouldn’t spoil things. Mateo took a machete, cut a short section of the “stick” and then using another blade peeled the tough outer skin off of it.

“Here Nydia, taste.”

Nydia just looked at it in her hand. “It’s a stick Poppy. I’m not a baby anymore so I know. You’re not supposed to put sticks in your mouth. We have to tell that to Neeno all the time.”

“This is a special stick,” he laughed since it was true that Neeno was going through a stage where he was gnawing on everything, even me when he nursed though it was less often now that he was on some table food.

Nydia cautiously took a lick and the surprise on her face was so comical I wished I’d had a camera to catch it forever. “It’s … it’s sweet Poppy!!”

Mateo had found a stand of sugar cane that had come back after the cold weather. It is basically just a grass and people frequently used it in their yard as an ornamental. While Nydia happily licked and sucked on her “candy stick,” chewing the fibrous center to get the last bit of sweet from each piece Mateo told me, “There is more where that came from; a whole fence row in fact as well as stands in different spots through several of the local subdivisions. I’m not sure how but my mother said that it can be used to sweeten drinks and other things.”

“Let me see what I can figure out. They sold that stuff by the bundle at the farmer’s market. They wouldn’t do that unless there was a way to use it by those who bought it.”

I didn’t have any luck in my mother’s books. Those books were about sorghum which was different from cane although from what I gathered you processed the stalks in much the same way. When I went looking through Mateo’s mother’s and sister’s old cookbooks that I had put away in the kitchen cupboard I kept my own mother’s cookbooks in I did find recipes but only for the juice although once I got Mateo to translate something for me I learned you could use sugar cane hearts like a swizzle stick to sweeten drinks and you could also use them like skewers to grill food on which flavored whatever you were cooking with sweet goodness.

“Honestly,” I said to Mateo one night while I was giving the kitchen a final cleaning before relaxing for the evening. “I’d give a lot to have whatever that thing was your sister wrote she used to juice the cane. It was in the edge of the cookbook that I could actually read.”

“Hmmm? Yes, it was my mother’s. It was heavy and I hated moving that thing around for her.”

I looked at him where he was reading and making notes. “You know what she is talking about? Could you draw me a picture of it?”

“Why?” he muttered not really paying any attention.

“Because I want to see if I could replicate it,” I told him patiently knowing he was only listening with half an ear.

He sighed, “Why do you want to do that when it is out in the barn?”

My mouth fell open and I had just found my voice again when his head jerked up. “Está hacia fuera en el granero. Cómo es estúpido puede I ser. ¡Por supuesto está hacia fuera en el granero!”

“English please,” I said at his outburst.

“I’m an idiot Leah. It is out in the barn with that stuff we brought from my sister’s house. I can’t believe … argh!”

“The stuff that you just … um … you didn’t seem like you wanted to go through it. I guess I forgot about it too. You stuck it in that overhead loft.”

“Exactly. I guess I just never wanted to think about … it was not a good time for me. I didn’t want to deal with … all the baggage I was stuck with, figuratively and literally.”

I had known there were things that Mateo wasn’t happy about as far as his childhood went but there are some areas that you just don’t trespass even as a spouse. He didn’t talk about it much and I had to respect his decision.

The next day, with no small amount of work since they had been shoved into a far back corner that was hard to reach, we finally pulled out the crates containing his parents’ and sibling’s belongings that he hadn’t sold at the estate auction. He uncrated everything until we found the juice extractor and then sweating and pale backed away from everything. I asked him, “Do you want me to put it all away?”

He stopped, thought for a moment, and then said, “No. Take it … take it inside and ….” With a very Latin hand movement indicated that I was to do with it whatever I wanted and then he walked away, turned once to say something, looked at the boxes and then turned again to keep walking. Over his shoulder he called, “I’m going to gather wood … and salvage … I … may be late coming home.”

I think that was his way of asking that I put it away before he got back so he wouldn’t have to face so much of it at a time. The extractor was heavy but it didn’t require electricity for which I was very grateful. I dealt with the rest of it as well as I could. The pictures and movie DVDs were put into a couple of tins and then stored with the rest of our family home media. There were awards and such that obviously belonged to Mateo and his sister and niece. I boxed those up and stuck them in my hope chest for Nydia when she was old enough to appreciate them. A few things must have come from his grandparents … some cigar making relics, some really old costume jewelry, a picture where the flowers were made of human hair … and then there were some antique looking kitchen pieces and silverware that I put away in the China hutch. There were a few things that obviously belonged to Nydia’s mother … Mateo’s niece … and I boxed those up and put them in the top of her old bedroom closet for safe keeping. There weren’t a ton of things, but it was enough that putting it all away neatly took time out of my other chores. I didn’t begrudge it as I knew it would be better for Mateo but I didn’t exactly enjoy myself either. I enjoyed history but even to me it was a little creepy pawing through the belongings of people I’d never had the chance to know and who had had such an impact on my husband.

Finally, I went back to gardening which that day was weeding and harvesting squash, gourds, and pumpkins. I also had the beans and corn to deal with and I pulled up a peanut plant and hung it to dry as an experiment to see if the peanuts were ready or still too green. It was long passed Nydia and Neeno’s supper time and both were nodding off waiting for Poppy to come home. When he did I was torn between making him suffer for being so late and worrying me or soothing him because he was obviously already suffering. In the end I decided that some things were best handled with care and I put his plate on the table and put the kids to bed myself. It took a while but finally they did both settle for the night and I returned to the kitchen where the only light came from the moonlight streaming through the one window I hadn’t shut yet.

“How can you see to eat? Let me turn on the solar lamp.”

“Leave it off … please.”

“Do you want any more food? I have another biscuit and …”

“I … I suppose.” I brought it over doing my best not to trip in the dark. “Leah, I’m sorry. I … I didn’t mean to be quite so late. Time got away from me and I went further than I had realized.”

“Mateo you don’t need to …”

“Yes,” he interrupted. “Yes I do. It’s not fair that you must feel the consequences of … the mess that was my family. But I just don’t want to talk about it now, it’s too … too difficult to explain and they’re all dead anyway.”

“All families are messy, some more than others. You’ve heard how my dad kept us at a distance from the rest of the family because he didn’t care for how some of them acted or raised their kids. But my parents weren’t perfect either. I loved them but if they hadn’t been so prideful and hardheaded maybe they … maybe they wouldn’t have died the way they did. And you surely know about … about Hank … so I was certainly no paragon of good judgment back then. If you need to talk I’m here. When you need to let it out I’m here. And if you just want to let it go for a while longer I’m here. Just don’t put it off forever Mateo or one of these days, just like Hank caught me off guard that time at the fair, your memories are going to catch you off guard and maybe make you say or do things that you like the results of even less than you do the memories.”

I turned away to put the wet rag over the drying rack when he was suddenly just there and in my space needing some comfort. As he hugged me I hugged him back. “Mi Tesoro, I will talk about it one day, but not … not now. I have worked so hard to put it all to rest and move on, to find peace with it. Only sometimes does it get tempting to start … what was it you called it the other day? Digging up old bones, that was it. I could feel the old … old feelings creeping up on me. It helped to go work, but it got away from me.”

“Just … don’t make a habit of letting it get away from you,” I told him with another hug. “My shoulders may not be as broad as yours, but I don’t break near as easily as you seem to think. Nor will I run shrieking into the night if I find out your family or even you are not perfect. It happens. Now are you finished or still hungry? You put in a lot of hours today.”

He stepped back and leaned against the counter but all I could see was his outline. “I missed putting the children to bed,” he said morosely.

“That’s not what I asked but if you want to put someone to bed then let’s finish up in here and you can put me to bed.”

He gave a surprised chuckle, but we did just that. The next morning, he was a little sheepish and seemed to be trying to make up for being missing in action the previous day. He started getting under my feet so I carefully, but firmly, shooed him off to take care of his own tasks so that I could take care of mine without worrying that he was worrying about me still worrying and being upset. He came home for lunch and had bagged another large snake so we had a little unplanned protein for dinner that night. He was getting quite a collection of snake skins that he was stretching on boards he leaned against the barn under the eaves.

“What are you going to do with all of them?” I finally asked him.

“The children will need shoes before it turns cold. I have been reading …”

That’s how so many of our conversations went; a question would be asked and one or the other of us would say “I’ve been reading …” But reading is a lot different from implementing. Sometimes our ideas panned out and sometimes they did not … or at least not the way we had originally meant for them to. This time he was talking about making shoes for the children and repairing mine that were so close to wearing out as well.

“We don’t have any souls for the shoes but I was thinking that I could cut pieces from tires but instead of sandals I could make full uppers from the snake skins somehow. Or perhaps when I finally get one of those deer …”

So many plans. It didn’t matter that we barely had enough time to breathe each day, there was always more to do. There was so much more that we needed to do. We could have easily used two or three more sets of hands but then that would have meant even more work as we had to feed the mouths that went with those hands.

I left the first row of corn to dry but instead of just leaving it in the field I picked the ears and put them in mesh bags that I crocheted and then hung them on the lanai to finish curing. I would do the same to the beans I was allowing to dry. It was getting so that you had to dodge and weave just to get from the screen door, across the lanai, and into the house. At night when I was just plain too tired to do anything else, I would sit and shell the dried beans or corn into containers that I would give one more airing to before sealing in an airtight container and putting them in the pantry.

My hands grew even more callused and I started catching everything on the cracked and peeling pads of my fingers. No matter what I did nothing made my hands go back to “lady looking.” I was dark skinned from the sun and wind, my skin was drying out, and I was horrified to notice that I had what looked like the beginning of crinkles at the corners of my eyes. It isn’t that I minded getting older, it was finding out that getting older was so easy to do that it was happening to me before I turned twenty-five. I tried not to be vain but Mateo caught me one day when I threw a rag at my reflection in the mirror. I was horribly embarrassed but he drug the story out of me and then set to convincing me that I was still totally desirable to him and eventually I was able to get over myself but I did start taking more care to wear a hat when I was out in the sun. Neither of us looked the same as we had even a year ago; life had aged us and not necessarily kindly.

It was towards the end of July and I was harvesting the first few … and late … bunches of grapes when I looked up as a flash caught my eye. “Mateo!”
 

Sammy55

Veteran Member
Super!! Now I have something to read in between my constant F5 on the "Queen Elizabeth" thread.

Thanks, Kathy! Always love your stories!
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 12-1: The World Gets Bigger​


There’s a great difference between knowing that a thing is so, and knowing how to use that knowledge for the good of mankind. – Jimmy Sangster

“Mateo!” I called again. This time I pointed up which made him look up as he came over in a hurry. It was a small aircraft I could tell that much, but unlike the drones that had come through before. “That’s not what the military sent out,” I told him.

“No, those were drones,” he agreed. “This one is manned and it most definitely did not start out as military. Please take the children and go inside.” When I opened my mouth to ask why he said, “Just for safety’s sake until we know who and what this is about.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” he told me as he cradled the rifle in his arm. “I just want you three out of the way in case something does happen.”

I ushered the suddenly tense and silent children into the house; they always picked up on when danger or perceived danger was near. Without me saying a word Nydia took Neeno and went to the “hiding place” that we still kept stocked just in case. No one had said the war was over but at the same time living like Neanderthal-flavored hobbits was bad for morale so we’d made the decision to leave it for emergencies and extra storage rather than our regular sleeping or living quarters. Not every action can be driven by fear if you plan on having any sanity left in the long run.

The plane – it didn’t really qualify as one after we got a good look at it – was doing some kind of very haphazard grid search. Even as untrained as I was I could tell the difference between the precise the drone had “searched” compared to the much more haphazard way the little plane accomplished the same type of act. The pilot spotted our set up and then made a bee-line for the air above our home where it circled a couple of times. Buzzing very low, several somethings were thrown from the aircraft before it took off back the direction it had come from to the east. The somethings broke up and then fluttered to the ground making a royal mess.

I stuck my head out of the screen door and when Mateo was finished looking at what had come down, he spotted me and walked over signaling me that it was safe, at least for the time being. Silently he handed one to me and I saw it was a piece of paper. There were three large blocks of writing on it.

Do not have fear, help is on the way! Liberation from your oppressors is imminent. You will be contacted soon. There is no reason for to have fear.

I looked at him and said sarcastically, “Love the new-style grammar. Remind me to add it to my curriculum.”

Mateo shook his head, “La Profesora is not happy?”

“Knock it off Mateo,” I huffed. “You know that kind of stuff irritates me. And just what is this supposed to be about? A little too much drama for my liking.”

He sighed, “Nothing good I’m afraid, or maybe Greg rubbed off on me too much.”

And did that little conversational tidbit open all sorts of mental doors or what? “Blue hats,” I said almost unwillingly.

Calmly Mateo asked, “Why would you pick them rather than say a Venezuela or a Cuba?”

Trying to organize my quick mental jumps into something that I could explain I looked again at the leaflet. “Since I was the one to mention the grammar I’ll start with that. That wasn’t written by someone that spoke English as their first language. ‘To have fear’ instead of ‘being afraid’ is just one of the more obvious mistakes made. Yes, one of the three languages is Spanish but they left out the proper exclamation point at the beginning of the first sentence which leads me to think that Spanish isn’t the writer’s first language either. And last we have that third language used and correct me if I’m wrong but isn’t that Esperanto?”

Mateo gave me a funny look, “And how do you know this? Do not take this wrong mi Amor but as a linguist you make a good baker.”

I chuckled unwillingly, “Fine but just because I’m perfectly capable of butchering a language with my mouth doesn’t mean my eyes are blind. Besides I had to do a report in college on George Soros and it turns out that he spoke Esperanto from childhood because his father was an Esperantist.” At Mateo’s look I explained, “Someone who uses Esperanto as a way to communicate and is usually involved in the culture to make it a more widely used language here on Earth.”

“I’ll take your word on that. I certainly don’t recognize it as Spanish though it does appear to have some words … or forms of words … in common with the Latin language. And how does this play into your theory?”

I gave him a look. “And how did this suddenly become my theory? Oh never mind. It just doesn’t seem like something any of the Spanish men that I’ve met would do, you included. You are much more … more … just more, I guess. Dropping flyers isn’t your style, you’d be more likely to land cautiously or depending on the situation come back at a later time, but you’d still do more than simply drop leaflets and fly away like you were afraid of something. Dropping flyers is the kind of thing they do during wars to create confusion in civilian populations. And all of that plus the plane itself and the fact that they didn’t act like they knew we were here is what tells me this isn’t our military.”

“I agree,” Mateo said.

“Then why did you …?”

“Because, I don’t want to be the only one thinking crazy thoughts woman. If I am turning into Greg’s shadow I want to at least be in good company.”

I turned up my nose at the backhanded compliment and started to walk away but he caught me around the waist and drew me back towards him. “I do not mean to tease you so much. This does mean trouble Leah. We need to sit and decide what we are going to do about it, if anything. I do not know how to measure their ‘soon’ but I think it best if I spend the rest of the day bringing in as much wood as I can and I will be more careful from here on out to stay closer to the house.”

I nodded, “If you really think it’s necessary I’ll try and harvest everything I can today and tomorrow and tonight we’ll move everything we can back into the hidden rooms.”

“I’m not sure what to think but as you are so fond of saying ‘better safe than sorry’.” He gave me a kiss and then went off with the wagon while I called Nydia and Neeno out to pick up the papers while I finished gathering the grapes and then continued to pick anything that even looked close to being ripe and ready.

That night after we’d put the children to bed we finally faced the situation head on. “Leah I don’t think I’ve ever asked you, did you have problems with the multi-national groups that came in to assist with the recovery?”

“Mateo, I saw so few people and got so little news after Greg stopped showing up that to be honest my world shrunk to our yard. I’m not even sure what you mean by multi-national groups.”

He shrugged, “Basically any country that thought they could get away with it came in and tried to make off with whatever assets and resources that they could.”

“What?! Exactly who was in charge of the store when this was going on? And how could they get away with something so obvious?”

“It only became obvious in hindsight though Greg and people like him had warned of such events being possible and even probable for years before it actually happened. The military units had antipathy for them immediately but could not forcibly eject them without federal approval which they didn’t get despite asking, then demanding it, several times. The groups first came under the guise of foreign aid workers, then in the guise of the UN itself. Supposedly they were helping to move supplies, fuel, and equipment to more efficient distribution points but in reality they were either setting up ethnic or cultural enclaves of their own people to give them a physical foothold on US soil or they were moving it all offshore, most to be sold on the black market back to the fools they stole it from in the first place.”

“But someone eventually figured it out?”

“Oh yes. That is one of the things that precipitated the … let’s call it the shuffle of power … in our government. The three branches still hold titular power per the Constitution, but the military are the implementers while war is declared on our own soil. The military and Guardsmen as well as local militias – at least those that hadn’t been disarmed by that point – came down on the multinationals fast and hard but by then the damage was done and the groups didn’t necessarily want to go home where the fighting and economic climate was even worse. Then came the limited nuclear exchange. After that I haven’t heard. Bea and her family had more trouble from the urban dwellers evacuating places like Miami-Dade but it’s possible that some foreign nationals were in there as well.”

I shook my head, upset. “It seems I keep finding out how little I’ve known about what has gone on beyond our street. Even here I kept to myself so much … if it hadn’t been for the strange half warning the Trasks left me I don’t imagine the children and I would be here today. I …”

“Don’t!” Mateo snapped. Then he shook himself and apologized. “I should not have yelled like that. I just … let us not travel that road of might have beens. It was not and that’s all that needs to be said about it.”

Looking in his eyes I saw a bit of the mental chaos he had exhibited when he first returned so I let it go. “Fine. Even with that part of it put aside it still underscores how cut off I was and how cut off we are now. No TV, no radio, no Internet, no newspapers; even if the news was slanted it would still something to sift through for nuggets of truth. We haven’t made contact with anyone in months. Sometimes I feel half deaf for lack of news.”

“Oh Corazon,” he hugged me. It didn’t change the facts but having him understand how I felt made those facts more bearable.

“So,” he said after a moment. “We are still left to decide how serious a threat the man in the ultralight is. And if you will hear me out I’d like to say something first.” At my nod he repeated another of my father’s favorite phrases, “Prepare for the worst, hope for the best, and pray either way.”

After a nostalgic moment I told him, “Agreed. It makes sense given our suspicions but what exactly can we do? Saying prepare is one thing, doing it is quite another.”

“First I want to make some caches and bury them in case we are forced out of our home for a time. It makes good sense anyway so they aren’t just for this event. You’ve saved all of the mylar bags you’ve opened. If I set up an inverter and battery in the kitchen could you refill them with your dehydrated fruits and vegetables and re-seal them?”

“I don’t have any O2 absorbers left but so long as we rotate them on a regular basis … say every six months or so maybe … it should work. Are you going to bury buckets?”

“No. I found a supply of large schedule forty PVC pipes and screw caps, I think whoever lived there was a plumber by trade and the PVC was simply missed by other salvagers because it was partially covered in the back yard by bags of oak leaves like it was nothing but trash. As long as we are careful where we bury them – and I already have a few places picked out – it should be OK. Each section of pipe will be able to stand on its own as a resupply point so take that into consideration when you are packing the food. I really do not want to split our ammo and weapons but in a worst case scenario we’ll need access to new ones if the ones we normally carry are taken away. We’ll still have a lot left so I want to go back to hiding things as we once did. In fact, if there is time and I can find the supplies, could you make more hidden storage?”

“I … well … yes, I suppose I can. I can build it in the bunker walls. I’ll just need better lighting to do the job right.” We hadn’t completely dismantled what had taken me so long to create though we had stopped using it on a regular basis. It wouldn’t take that much to re-secure it nor add to its usefulness.

“I’ll cache some tools as well since we have so many duplicates. I noticed that you still keep backpacks for you and the children. Will you make up one for me? Those are convenient.”

“Already done.” When he gave me a surprised look I shrugged. “Habit I suppose. While you are making a list, we should cache some camping gear. And some first aid stuff too though we don’t have much of that.”

We added a few more things to the growing list including one of the copies of our important papers and we also resolved to cache one of the electronic copies of all our family media away from the house. This was all on top of our normal work schedule and we fell into bed exhausted each night. I asked, “Is it possible that they will come at night to catch us by surprise?”

“Possible,” Mateo agreed. “But unlikely. We just cannot mount a 24-hour watch and still get everything else done. Besides they will be as handicapped as we by the lack of power and light. And sound carries far on the wind these days. If they follow previous patterns that I heard they’ll probably want to make a show of their technological and firepower superiority and for that we’ll need to see and hear them. They want our gratitude and awe to overwhelm any suspicions we might have. They want to disarm us both figuratively and literally to avoid wasting their own ammo.”

“They’ll try the honey before the vinegar.”
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Chapter 12-2

He grinned. “Just so mi Amor. However, if we have no other advantage of our own at least they’ve lost the advantage of surprise.” It wasn’t a lot to add to our side of the equation, but we took it as any advantage was better than none at this point.

Day in and day out we continued with our plan. I made up meal packets that only needed water added to them for reconstituting – vegetable broth, pasta dishes, bean chowder, etc. – and this was the food to go into the PVC pipes. All totaled we planted a baker’s dozen of caches, added hidden wood piles in case we needed them, and even built a few fallback positions well hidden amongst the ruins around us. Days turned into a week and then the week into three before it happened. I almost missed it except for the clean-up.

I was where I was most of the time, running between the garden and my outdoor kitchen. Mateo left before the children even had finished their breakfast; he worried that rain could be on the way. That morning I was canning peanuts and the ever-present mist was thicker than usual. I could barely see to the edges of the yard and all sound was muffled and strange. The first clue I had that something was wrong was a series of rapid pops that I recognized at once as automatic gunfire; even if I hadn’t the yelling that accompanied them would have been a dead giveaway. I immediately stopped what I was doing and grabbed the children up and shooed them into the bunker. Nydia knew the drill but I could tell she was frightened. So was I for that matter but it couldn’t be helped. I ran back outside to the continued sounds of a gun battle. I took my pot off the Franklin stove and put the fire out, all the while praying to hear or see Mateo and know that he was well and safe.

I ran back in to check on the children and reassure them that Poppy was on his way home though it would have been more truthful to have said that I hoped he was on his way home. Before running back out I grabbed a 20-guage shotgun that wouldn’t dump me on my backside if I had to fire it. Back out I went, praying a hedge of protection around Mateo. I couldn’t conceive of losing him again yet I knew it was entirely possible. Life was too cruel, a fact I had already experienced, but at least that day I was not its intended target.

Eventually the battle petered to silence. Then two or three single shots followed interrupting the silence before everything fell quiet again. The silence stretched out and out and further out still. Part of me was screaming “enough already, bring it on, let me do something” while another part of me cried “just let it be over.” Then through the fog I heard the odd but distinctive squeak-drag-squeak that one of our wagon wheels had started to make when Mateo pulled home something heavy. From the front gate I heard the all clear question which was a cardinal call. If my response had been anything but a Bob White call he would have known something was wrong. He returned the cardinal call once again and I ran to open the gate.

I was shocked to see a man and young girl in the wagon. Both were filthy and injured. Then wasn’t the time for questions so I helped Mateo who was obviously frazzled to pull the wagon around back.

“Leah, the girl she’s … been hurt. I don’t want to frighten her. Perhaps you can …?” It was his delicate way of asking if I could ascertain if she had been abused.

The man was barely holding on to consciousness. I admired his perseverance in the face of what must have been great pain as he helped Mateo to place him in a deck chair, but I was puzzled by Mateo’s gentleness and solicitousness towards him. Since the man was all but helpless and the girl barely more than catatonic I asked Mateo if he would be the one to go inside and bring the first aid supplies after a quick stop to let the children, especially Nydia, know he was home and safe.

“I am certain this enemy is dead and that these two are no danger to us … but in case I am wrong …” I looked at him and nodded then surreptitiously brushed the pocket I kept my gun in to let him know I was armed and on guard.

The man’s injuries appeared to be of more immediate concern, so I told the girl to sit tight and to let me look at him first. The man said in a quietly sad voice, “I doubt she’ll respond. I haven’t heard her make an intelligible sound since they kidnapped me, and … and I think … yes, full moon to full moon … it’s been a month. If God hadn’t sent your husband I most likely would not have seen another sunrise.”

I thought that seemed an odd way for a complete stranger to phrase it. I started cleaning his injuries and realized he’d been whipped on at least three different occasions plus he had sundry other wounds, some worse than others. “Mister …?

“Bouvier … Yger Bouvier … that’s Y-G-E-R … my parents’ idea of a bad joke. A lot of the times people see my name and pronounce it Eager Beaver.”

His blathering seemed to be his way of dealing with the pain I was inflicting on his already bruised flesh. “But I turned it to an advantage when I was called to the ministry. Seemed to work great with the kids as an ice breaker.”

I raised an eyebrow and gave him my best school marm expression I reserved for class clowns and said, “Seems you try to use it on adults as well.”

He gave me a grimace that was supposed to be a smile before admitting, “Guilty as charged.”

Before I could ask him another question he passed out. Mateo came out then and I told him what I thought needed doing. “I’m no doctor but I think he should be OK if there’s nothing wrong on the inside I can’t see. Aside from his wounds he’s suffering from exposure and dehydration. He seems a happy go lucky type, at least at first impression. I’m surprised he can still joke after what he’s been through. I’m not sure about the girl yet. We can clean them up out here and then make pallets for them in the family room.”

A little voice called, “I can help.”

I looked over to the lanai and saw Nydia peeping out. I turned to Mateo who answered my unspoken question with, “He’s napping.”

Looking back at Nydia and remembering she’d helped me with Mateo and Greg I instructed her, “Make the beds like we had them before in front of the fireplace please. Then get a cool pitcher of water and put it on the counter.”

“Yes ma’am Nonny,” and my little helper was off like a flash.

Mateo took care of the man called Yger and I did my best with the girl but eventually I had to say, “Mateo, take him in please and lay him down. I’m going to take her to the bathroom. This poor kid needs … they abused her, and I’m going to try and get her cleaned up and comfortable if I can.”

I pray I never witness such human cruelty again in my life. They’d had at her like animals … they were worse than animals in my mind … and the girl needed real medical care, the kind that was far beyond my ability to give her. I wasn’t the innocent Nelly that Mateo often thought me, even now. When I was at the inner-city school abuse of all kinds stared me in the face from the eyes of the kids I taught every day. My church had a ministry specifically for women that served those that had suffered through divorce or through abuse or both. I volunteered for a while at a pregnancy crisis center as well as a women’s shelter. My parents thought it was important that I appreciate the difference between our home and what was out in the world though I don’t think my father at least really knew what I was being exposed to. I knew what abuse looked like even if I had never experienced it to any great degree. Hank was a pussy cat compared to what had happened to the girl and I felt both guilty and angry at the same time. It is so hard to hold something so broken and not know how to even begin to put the pieces back together.

That night I learned that Mateo had been working on one of our evacuation points when he’d heard them coming. One look was all it took. They were a motley crew of misfits.

“It was obvious that they were going to try and charm us first. A small group of them were clean and well-dressed; four of them, very neat and militarily attired though in a piecemeal kind of way. Their insignia didn’t really match what it was attached to.”

Shaking my head I said, “I’m not sure I would have caught that.”

“That was the point Leah. Most civilians wouldn’t. Frankly the only reason I noticed was because we’d had a couple of people try the same stunt when I was on duty at my first assignment and a wiser, more experienced Sergeant was at the gate with me and spotted the discrepancy. They were trying to break in and get some supplies they thought we were hoarding. Anyway, back to this morning … I knew right away it was a scam. There were another ten men that would remain with the two main vehicles while those four would drive a nice looking jeep up to us.”

“Bait and switch,” I muttered.

“More like sleight of hand. Distract with the pretty while the real bandits took up their positions and cut off any chance of escape.” He sighed. “Leah, I just started shooting. It was an opportunity I was unlikely to get again in the face of such a superior number. They didn’t expect it. Then the prisoners - I had not realized there were any at first - added their weight to the battle. When it was done I … ended the misery of those too injured to be saved. Yger and the girl were two of the three survivors to escape with their lives.”

“There was a third survivor?!”

“Yes, but he took the jeep and ran in the middle of the battle. Yger said that he saw him get hit but didn’t know how badly, one of the prisoners but apparently one too afraid to stand and fight. Tomorrow I’ll scout the area a little more and make sure that he is indeed gone.”

Quietly so as not to disturb our injured guests I said, “I saw you bring back what I suppose is the weapons they were using but what was everything else you put out in the barn?”

He answered me just as quietly but with some excitement. “One of the trucks had some supplies in it. The packaged items were only generically labeled so I assume they originally came from non-civilian supplies; maybe they raided a convoy. There were also a few things in there – obviously stolen – such as jewelry which they were dismantling. Gold and silver was being melted into ingots. The precious stones were being removed and separated into small boxes by type and size. It looked like an ongoing operation. There were also a couple of rolled up paintings that had been cut from their frames and were in tubes; I assume they are authentic. And there is a radio! I’m not sure how to work it yet but we should be able to power it. The two trucks are toast; bullets tore through the engine compartment and a couple of the tires. If I have to burn them in place I will but they are under tree cover so I may be able to just throw moss and other tree debris on them and if the grass fills back in they should remain hidden from any but a determined searcher. I’ve already disposed of the bodies by dumping them into a couple of septic tanks.”

Worried I asked, “Are you sure that this is the group that belongs with that ultralight we saw?”

At that point the Yger whispered, “Don’t mean to be rude and interrupt but figure that’s better than eaves dropping and leaving you to worry.”

I jumped a little and the man again apologized before continuing. “Guy in the plane went missing two weeks ago. The group used to be twice the size as it was but they fought and split up when the plane didn’t come back. The other half took three of the trucks and went off to see if they could find the pilot or plane and salvage anything from it, this group refused to hand over the coordinates for occupied locations that the pilot had located for plundering. There was a fire fight resulting in a couple of dead and injured bad guys, but they eventually agreed to go their separate ways leaving things exactly as they had been. You were the last location on the list and the cherry on the sundae if I was able to understand them. The other occupied locations had more people, but they weren’t near so well set up as you two appear to be. If you don’t mind my saying so.”

Looking him coolly in the eyes I told him, “You may say so, but I would appreciate some discretion if you talk to anyone else.”

He grinned, “No kidding. Look, I’m no threat … or at least I don’t mean to be one. You’ve treated me better than I’ve come to expect people in the Outland to.”

“The Outland?” Mateo asked.

“Outland, Red Zones, Hot Zones, No Mans’ Land, whatever you want to call the quarantined areas around the bomb site radiuses. The kids have code names for everything it seems but mostly I think it is their way of compartmentalizing and controlling their fears. If you name something then you have some control over a person, place, or object.”

Mateo looked at me when I said, “How very tribal.” I’d seen the same thing in the high school where I had taught. You called the kids by their nicknames, their gang names. They didn’t like you to call them by their legally given names because they acted like it was a threat somehow. When I noticed the look on the two men’s faces I said wearily, “Sorry. A double major in history and education can leave you kind of cynical on occasion.”

“Ah,” said Yger. “I thought you must’ve been a teacher of some type. You’ve got the Spock eyebrow down perfect.”

I said, “Excuse me?” But Mateo chuckled in obvious agreement.

Shaking my head I got up and brought some broth for them to eat returning to find Mateo and Yger in deep conversation. As I walked in Mateo explained, “They have three other caches that Yger knows of.”

The man in question nodded, “They probably have more but I only know for sure of the three they made after the main group split up. Basically more of the same that they had in the truck. I’m not sure I can tell you where they are at, but they had it marked on maps that were kept in the sun visor of the two trucks.” He took a sip of his soup and the face he made you would have thought I’d given him haute cuisine. “This … is … sooooo … good. Thank you. I haven’t had a square meal in … well, way too long. I really do appreciate this. You didn’t have to bring us to your home.”

Mateo said, “Oh yes we did. I’m no Lot and this isn’t Sodom but I know when hospitality is called for.” He turned to see me spooning broth into the girl’s mouth. She wasn’t eager to eat but she didn’t fight me either. Mateo asked Yger, “The girl?”

The man shook his head sadly. “She was already a captive when I was taken from a caravan that was travelling between refugee camps and was already pretty much in the condition you see her in.” He added quietly, “All of it. It was sickening to have to bear witness …” Yger shuddered. “As soon as I can get back on my feet I want to take her to the main processing camp. They have trauma specialists there on staff. Major Taglione …”

Surprised enough that I almost spilled the broth I yelped, “Major?! It wasn’t that long ago that she was a Captain and before that a Sergeant!”

“You know Major Tag? She’s something else isn’t she?” Yger smiled in just as great a surprise as mine. “Tough as an old boar but strong enough to be kind when it suits the circumstances better. She’s a good foil for Major Dunham who is the type of person that brings to mind chewing on aluminum foil and who wants to have as little to do with the civilians as possible … but contrary to most people’s understanding it is mostly because it kills him by inches to see all the suffering and not be able to do much to alleviate it. They both serve under Col. Kilpatrick who answers to who knows at the moment. I don’t have the security clearance for information that high up.” Yger stopped for a moment and then asked diffidently, as if he’d suddenly become suspicious but was trying not to show it, “How would you have met Major Tag way out here? She’s been desk bound for some time now.”

I simply said, “It has been a while and we aren’t personal friends or anything. How do you know her so well?” It was an answer but gave no details.

“I’m one of the camp chaplains. Mostly I work with the adolescent pods … war orphans, runaways, that sort of thing. I had gone to help another chaplain set up a sub-processing station to help move those that can be moved out of the camps. It’s like pushing fledglings out of the nest a little at a time. Too few people want to go once they find out that they’ll be on their own. It’s the kids and young adults that usually want out when given the opportunity … or that have to be moved out if we find they get credited with too many behavioral incidences … and the Major is trying to get people moved before they get too comfortable and too dependent and become a long-term problem for the government.”

Mateo asked, “Is that a concern?”
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Chapter 12-3

“Dependency? Oh yeah. Too many still have the idea that when everything is over with they’ll simply be able to go back to buying what they need from the store, getting money from the bank, a paycheck from a job, that sort of thing. The Major likes to encourage the ones that show gumption first, get them started in a business, trade, that sort of thing. With some cooperation from the higher ups she’s been able to get the camp self-sufficient but just barely. They expect this winter to be worse than the last, not because of the weather so much as that people have run through most of the commercially processed foods that were left after the bombs dropped. We need people willing to plan and do the work for their individual families. The government just isn’t set up for providing mass support like it is trying to do right now. They are trying to provide support for some of the major manufacturing to restart but that’s hit or miss based on resources available. Power is also hit or miss depending on damage to the infrastructure and how much electricity was locally produced. Everything from here on out … well, it looks like you two see it and have a handle on it. It’s almost going to be every family for themselves. The main processing camp has three large ag field areas, the smaller processing camps have at least one each for their own needs. The Major, from my understanding of what is being discussed in the staff meetings, wants to set up trade between the camps so that no one camp has to be completely on its own. That way if say Camp 2 has access to blueberries while Camp 3 mainly produces tomatoes or strawberries in quantity, the two camps can come to a mutually beneficial trade agreement. After the camps are taken care of then they’ll be encouraged to trade with any locals that don’t belong to specific camps or enclaves.”

Extremely interested in the concept I asked, “What about grains?”

“That is one of the major problems. The weather change has disrupted food production in all of North America … around the world actually.” The girl had finished her broth and I decided to brush and braid her hair so it wouldn’t get so many tangles in it. She started to relax and droop as I listened to Yger continue. “A surprising number of countries were dependent on exports of food from the US but as of the first nuclear attack all exports were stopped by Congress even if there had been an agreement or contract. Despite that and taking into account the large population decline, the national food reserves are almost gone and what is left is solely reserved for military and for government continuity purposes. All refugee camps in the country were forced to become self-supporting or watch their people die of starvation. Long supply lines just aren’t possible because of the war, lawlessness, lack of fuel, and breakdowns of equipment. There are a lot of no-fly zones so air transport is restricted as well. Florida’s weather change hasn’t been as totally destructive as what has occurred north of the state line but we still can’t grow wheat in any abundance around here. Corn yes, but that was affected by the torrential rains and the late frosts.”

I could see he was beginning to tire and looked at Mateo who told him, “Rest now. There’s always tomorrow.”

“Maybe, maybe not … but if there isn’t at least I know today has been a good one.”

The girl was also asleep sitting up so I laid her down, covered her nearly emaciated body, and then took care of my own children and husband. For the next three days I rarely left the family room for more than a few minutes at a time. I even slept in there because the girl would sometimes wake clawing at her own face in terror though she never made a sound.

It was the third day and Yger had finally gotten Mateo to concede that he could use some help trimming the Confederate Jasmine that had started to grow into the surrounding trees and out into the yard. I was once again trying to encourage the girl – by this time I realized she was either a developed tweenager or a young teenager – to feed herself with only partial success but it was more than she had done the first two days. A knock on the front door startled me as we rarely used it. I had it open to let the house air out. After telling the girl and my own children to be quiet I cautiously walked towards it. What met my eye sparked a temper that could run as hot as Mateo’s.

“What … on … Earth … are … you … doing?!” I picked up the broom from the corner where I had put it after sweeping the front porch and swung it at the red head that squawked and stepped back. “If you do not turn him loose right this …”

A surprised Mateo said, “Leah!” But a hearty laugh from the side of the house stopped me in my tracks. “Well, that answers that.”

“Capt. Tag … I mean Major Tag … Taglione … I mean … Oh my goodness. I … oh dear … are these some more of your puppies?”

That only set the woman off again and I swung to look at the red head and recognized the young man named Decker that I hadn’t seen since I had been pregnant with Neeno. “Um … sorry Decker.”

Instead of being indignant he grinned and nearly shouted, “Hey, you remember me! Major she remembers me!”

“Yes Decker, you’re just that hard for the ladies to forget. Now fetch Ricker and let’s see if we can put Eager here back together enough to transport him back to base.” As Mateo was released from where he’d been held with several guns pointed at him Tag explained, “Sorry about that. This is the first time I’ve been here and seen a man about the place.”

“Speaking of,” I interrupted still a little shook and irritated at what had greeted me. “What happened to being chained to a desk?”

She grimaced. “I escaped. That’s my normal position. Actually, I was on my way back from a meeting of other refugee camp commanders and thought I would swing by here to see how you were doing. Imagine my surprise first to see Eager Beaver who’s been listed as MIA and then to see a man in your yard claiming to be your husband.”

“Oh good grief, he doesn’t really go by that awful name does he?” I asked rolling my eyes.

“Oh yeah,” she laughed. “The kids love him. Speaking of …?”

I turned and called Nydia to come to the door but she surprised me by bringing not only Neeno but leading the nameless girl by the hand. “Nonny, the girl was scared.”

“Oh dear,” I muttered and went over.

Mateo and Yger must have explained the situation because Capt … no Major Tag now … came over and gently looked the girl over. We were all silent when Decker came over to ask Tag something only to stop and stare at the girl before saying, “Hey … I think I know that girl. I … I think she is from Camp 14.”

Tag looked at Decker, “How sure is your think?”

“Pretty sure ma’am. I can check the log of missing persons. Does she have any birthmarks or distinguishing features?”

I said, “She has a strawberry birthmark in the center of her back.”

He nodded and ran off. Major Tag said, “We lost nearly half of Camp 14 a couple of months back. They were raided … sucker punched really … by a group claiming to be from the UN. It doesn’t matter how many times you warn some people, they’ll believe whatever it is they want to believe.” She noticed my significant look at Mateo. “Uh huh and I’ve given my husband a look like that more than a time or two. Perhaps … Mateo was it? … perhaps you would care to talk to Lt. Jenkins … that tall, skinny bean pole over there that barely looks old enough to shave … and Sgt. Weatherstone … now there’s a real man for you … and apprise them of the local situation.” I could tell from Mateo’s carefully blank look that he was still reserving judgment on Maj. Tag though he did as she asked. I suspect however that it was more because he wanted to pump them for information rather than for getting on the lady’s good side.

After he walked away Tag asked me, “Everything OK?”

I looked at her a little surprised that she would need to ask. “Of course … well beyond the obvious I mean. Why, what’s up?”

She sighed and then leaned against the column on the front porch. I asked her if she wanted to sit but she said, “No thank you. Do way too much of that lately or so it feels. I asked because … when soldiers come back from war they sometimes have a challenging time reintegrating with their families. Your husband was away quite some time, you … you learned to live without him, do things without his help, a baby was born.”

Beginning to understand I told her honestly, “It was … challenging … at first but more because Mateo had lived so long just to get home that his health failed him for a bit. He had a hard time believing he had actually made it at first, made worse by the fact that when he first got here … well, it wasn’t obvious I was still home. It shook him up. Shook me up for my prayers to be answered to be honest. There was some adjusting to do but more for me than him. But he’s been a good sport about it all.”

“A good sport?!” she chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it described quite like that before.”

“Honestly Tag, we’re fine. We’re actually better than fine. I needed him home, it was obvious. I couldn’t keep going the way I was going without some help. And it was obvious he needed me as well. We rebuilt from there. With no undue influence from outside people who might try to lay their expectations on us we’ve managed with only a few bumps along the way.”

She smiled and muttered sotto voice, “Oh good grief, a couple of romantics.” With a larger smile to let me know she was kidding she then asked, “What about supplies? Your set up is even sweeter than it was before … like the covered rows by the way and I’ll likely steal the idea so there … but the weather hasn’t exactly cooperated.”

I thought and then said what the heck, “Grains and sweetenings is what we are the worst off with. We can make do or substitute for everything but that. We’ve seen a few deer – Mateo even brought one down – and we have some pigs that we’ll slaughter once it really turns cold again. We’ve got gator until they hibernate or whatever it is they do. For eggs we have geese and ducks – tell your puppies to watch out because they can be more vicious than watch dogs – though I would love some chickens. Milk is a problem but I suppose it is for everyone at this point since you can’t exactly go pick it up at the corner market. The pecan trees don’t look like they are going to produce this year so that’s out. But we’re managing. Like I said it is mostly grains and sweetenings that worry me long term. The only thing we’ve been able to replace in those two areas are corn … and you can see the challenges of that for a family of any size plus the issue of grinding it into meal … and we’ve found a few stands of sugar cane for the kids to suck on as a treat and squeeze for a little juice to add to other things.”

She nodded, “We’ve got the same issues at the camp. Everyone wants wheat and most of the wheat crop in this country has been destroyed by the weather, compromised by radiation, or intentionally sabotaged by our enemies. What wheat remains is precious and they’ve set aside as much as they can as seed for next season’s crop with the remainder …”
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Chapter 12-4

The disgusted look on her face that I saw before she tried to hide it had me saying, “Or has been designated for the elite and the have nots will just have to make do.”

She sighed and said, “I’m not in a position where I can confirm that either way. Another fun fact is that the sugar cane crop down in south Florida has taken a beating. The change in weather patterns brought some pretty ferocious storms that flooded fields and other stuff I didn’t get into. We’ve been replacing it with beet sugar when we can get it from the north, honey, and something called sorghum but the days of white processed cane sugar are over for a while. I’m surprised you didn’t mention tea or coffee.”

“I never was much of a coffee drinker and Mateo doesn’t complain though I know he misses it. For tea I just grow mint and chamomile and things like that.”

She blinked at me. “You make your own tea.”

I rolled my eyes, “I grow it but it isn’t the caffeinated, high test stuff that you are referring to.”

“I’m not talking about that. Seriously, you can make your own teas.”

“Unless you’ve got a black thumb you can too,” I told her laughing a bit at her incredulous expression. “It’s not magic, you just need to know which herbs make the best tea. I like the mints and the lemony flavored ones or chai tea is pretty good when I really need something special. Or I’ll add some dried orange rind to …”

“No … no more. My head is going to explode. Do you know what people would give to have that back at my office? Drinking hot water just isn’t cutting it for most of us. It keeps us warm and hydrated but that’s about it.”

Tag was called away by the men that Mateo was speaking with and I went over to where Ricker the medic and a woman were examining the no-name girl. “Is she … well all right is a stupid question but is she …?”

The man sighed and said, “Under the circumstances it looks like you’ve done everything for her that can be done for her until she gets to the base hospital. The Chaplain said that he wants to take her back with us. Do you object to that?”

“No. Decker said that he thought he recognized her and if she can be reunited with her family that would at least be something for the poor kid. Um … look … do you have a moment?”

He stepped away with me and I told him what I’d seen while I had bathed her. He nodded. “I suspected as much given what the Chaplain said. We have a pretty good team on base for trauma cases. Unfortunately, they’ve been seeing way too much of this kind of thing.”

At loose ends once the medic went back to the girl I turned to find Nydia still sitting on the porch and I went over to her. “I’m sorry Baby Doll. Do you feel left out?”

“No. Poppy is doing business and you were just taking care of the girl. She’s bad hurt in her heart isn’t she?”

“Yes,” I said choked up at the childish simplicity of those words.

“She’s worse than Poppy was. Will she go away like Uncle Greg?”

I sighed. “She’s going away but not like Uncle Greg. She’s going where there are some people that can help her deal with her hurts.”

Nydia looked at me seriously and said, “Good. Maybe she can find someone like you and Poppy to take care of her.”

“Now that sounds like a good idea.” Tag had come up with Mateo and the other men he had been speaking with.

Mateo had a look on his face that drew my attention. “Leah, Major Taglione would like for you to explain your gardening methods to one or two of their civilian ag specialists.”

I looked around searching for the catch. “And where are these ag specialists?”

Mateo’s lips twitched. “They plan on being back in a week with a crew. They would stay five to seven days, plenty of time for you to play la profesora and teach them what they need to know.”

“Ooooo kay, who let that particular cat out of the bag?” I looked at Mateo with an arched eyebrow that had the group trying not to laugh but he just looked completely innocent yet unrepentant at the same time which made me roll my eyes and shake my head.

He came over and kissed the top of my bandana covered head and said, “I’ll leave you to discuss it with your Major Tag but it is still your decision. If you do not feel up to it …” His open-ended statement let everyone know that he would abide by my choice and support it fully. In his eyes though I could see that he was wheeling and dealing and would like me to consider it.

I nodded so that he would know I understood and then turned to Tag and asked, “What all would this visit entail? Would I need to feed them?”

“No,” she assured me. “My goal is to make this a mutually beneficial meeting. An exchange of information and good will that could lead to a trade partnership down the road.”

“What about quartering?”

“They’ll have a hard-side trailer. Technically the Ag guys are civilians but since they’ll be traveling with a military unit we don’t want to get in trouble with the 3rd Amendment. I got enough of the Constitutionalists breathing down my neck without adding to it unnecessarily.” At my surprised look she snorted in a most unladylike manner. “I don’t blame them, agree with them to be honest, but they don’t make my job any easier. Most of them are OK but there are a few that are a pain in the backside and don’t know as much as they think they know; they interpret it to their benefit rather than to the intent of the Founders. They’ve caused as much trouble for their own people as they have for mine. But even the worst of that lot is better than some of the people who think they are the next generation of leaders. If I have to deal with one more so-called community activist I’m liable to forget and just nail all of those agitators to the outside wall.”

You could hear the real disgust and anger in her voice and I was thankful that I wasn’t walking in her boots. Managing my own household was enough of a challenge thank you very much. Fifteen minutes later they were heading out and both Mateo and I had a lot to plan and discuss.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________

Part 13-1: With Silver Bells and Cockle Shells​


When the sun rises, I go to work.
When the sun goes down I take my rest,
I dig the well from which I drink,
I farm the soil which yields my food,
I share creation, Kings can do no more.
- Chinese Proverb, 2500 B.C.


“Mateo, do you think we made the right decision?” For two days I had continued to rethink our choice to allow Tag’s people to basically camp out on our door and theoretically learn from our intensive suburban “farming” techniques. First, I’d go one way and be very interested in them coming then I’d swing back in the other direction and spend a few hours very anxious about the whole thing. I wasn’t usually quite this changeable on a subject which spoke to how nervous I was about it.

I could see Mateo was taking my question seriously, not just assuming he knew best based solely on my hormones which I must admit were running a little high at that moment. “Leah, it isn’t that I don’t have concerns. I’ve seen …” He stopped and seemed to put on his proverbial flame-retardant suit. “Leah, mi Tesoro, mi Amor … don’t take what I’m going to say the wrong way.” After another brief pause as if he was gathering his thoughts he continued. “I’m over a decade older than you and had more experience even when we first married.” Something in my face must have told him he’d definitely hit a nerve. “Wait … mi Corazon hear me out. This isn’t a matter … Look, Leah, I respect you and I’m not trying to treat you like a child … I’m simply stating a fact. I’m older and have more life experience than you. You have experience of things but not necessarily perhaps as much …”

He stopped, pinched his nose and muttered in Spanish under his breath. I’ve always understood more than he thinks I do. I took three years in high school and two semesters in college; as a teacher at an inner-city school I expanded my vocabulary further … and not necessarily with words you would find in your average textbook unless you were reading the graffiti written on the inside covers. What made it appear that I was conversationally challenged was the fact that I couldn’t speak Spanish worth a flip – for one thing I never had learned how to properly trill my r’s – but I can read, write, and understand it more than I ever let on. I had to stop my lips from twitching as I translated his worried muttering, “Why did I open my mouth? I’m going to be sleeping on the sofa from now until the moon no longer brings the tide.” He looked at me and started, “Leah …”

Poor thing. I could see he really was concerned so I let him off the hook … mostly. “Fine. You are some kind of ‘man of the world’ and I’m nothing but Lil’ Miss Homebody who went from daddy to hubby. What exactly does that have to do with the question I asked?”

“Ouch.” He winced and shook his hand like he’d touched something hot. It was supposed to be funny but I wasn’t in the mood. “That is not what I meant Leah.” At my raised eyebrow he conceded admitting, “All right perhaps it was to some extent, but I would never have said it that way. How this conversation got so off course …” He shook his head in exasperation. “Your concerns are valid Leah, but we cannot stay closed off from the world forever no matter how comfortable it might seem at first glance. Short term we need news and contacts and then there are the things we need but cannot grow on our own. Long term we have Nydia and Neeno to think of.”

“I’m well aware of that Mateo, likely more aware than you think I am. I know I can’t grow everything we need and even if I could, one freeze, one season of drought, one injury to either one of us, could wipe us out. Growing up I probably lived a lot closer to that state of existence than you did, and I watched my parents and how it tore at them sometimes. If you’ll remember that’s where I learned all the skills that are keeping us fed now. I’m able to preserve some of the harvest this year for next, but I might not next year for the year after that. My goal was never to simply subsist and get by except in the extreme short term.”

Mateo sighed, “I didn’t mean to insult you Love.”

“I know,” I sighed as well. “I’m just … a little prickly about this I suppose. The reality is that I did go from my father’s house to yours. If the time you were away did nothing for me but teach me that I can stand on my own feet I suppose it served a purpose. I’m not afraid of reaching out Mateo, I just wonder if this is the when and who to do it with.”

“Ah,” he said beginning to understand I hadn’t really been speaking generally. “You mean is your trust in Major Taglione misplaced.”

“Something to that effect, yeah.” You know how you can tell a man is trying to choose his words carefully? Mateo had that look on his face. “Mateo, I know Tag can be … uh … she can … er … have a … um … strong personality I guess you would call it. I’ve never really seen her interact with any men besides the ones I call her ‘puppies’ and with them she’s a real mothering figure but the kind that is trying to toughen them up so she can toss them out of the nest.”

Mateo snorted, “Hmmm. I might call it something else but not having met her more than once I’ll take your word for it.” He laughed and shook his head. “It makes me sound like a chauvinist but I am very glad that you are not like that. I want a wife not a mother, a partner not a nursemaid.”

I gave him a kiss and told him rather bluntly but with a smile, “You’ve definitely got testosterone poisoning and we both know it … but since I married you knowing what you were like I’d be a hypocrite to start complaining about it now. Besides, I like your machismo. On the other hand I might not like it in another man. I’ve never met Tag’s husband, but I figure it has to take a man that is very sure of himself to live with such a strong-minded woman. I do know that she is extremely family oriented, and it shows in her work. It might also be why she keeps the ... well, not weaker but certainly the more innocent seeming young men … under her command until they grow a thicker skin or get a bit of experience.”

“Perhaps,” Mateo said. “I do not dislike the woman Leah, she simply reminds me of some of the women that I had to work with. They were as arrogant as some of the men in that environment and were just as blind to their failings. Time will tell if Major Taglione is more able than arrogant; she certainly seems capable and those working under her appear to respect her rather than fear or resent her which tells me a great deal. If it was just the Major I would say that there is no question that she is the right person, and this is as good a time as any, certainly when we have something they seem to value enough to trade for which gives us more standing in any negotiations. It is the unknown players that will determine how constructive this relationship will be for us.”

“Unknown players? You mean the ag specialists that are coming?”

“Uh hmm,” he said nodding and thinking. “It will be good to see how far her influence reaches, how her people act when they are not under her direct supervision.”

“Wondering if when the cats away the mice will play?”

He nodded. “And perhaps talk, which could give us more sensitive information on what is happening … in those refugee camps, in the state, and beyond. I know you consider the Major a friend of a sort but never forget that she did not reach her rank just because she is nice or friendly. In my experience, limited though it is, field promotions are only given out for two reasons … because the recipient earned it in some way or because there was no other choice after all other leadership was removed – death or otherwise. If she earned her field promotions then she bears watching, and we’ll need to weigh her words to make sure she isn’t telling us things just to placate us or manipulate us. If the military promoted her because there was no other choice, especially as high as she has risen in a relatively short period of time, then that is very worrisome. That would tell us that our military has been decimated, at least in the top ranks, that a sergeant was field promoted all the way to Major in less than a year’s time.”

I hadn’t thought of it in quite those terms. I pondered his words then said, “I think she earned it. I don’t think this is an issue of the Peter Principle. She’s too well organized and the other people with her seem to give her too much respect for it to be a political thing.”

“That is my first impression as well, but better to be cautious until we know for sure. As for the rest of it, as I said we need information. If that is all we get out of this visit of theirs I would say that it serves its purpose but I’m hoping for more. A lot will depend on what we find out. I need to know how cut off we are, the quarantine doesn’t appear to be very strict; on the other hand we’ve seen too few people for something not to be going on. Fear is a motivating factor but still the pressures from people migrating from the north because of the cold and those migrating from the south because of the fighting and the bombs should have had this area overrun, especially with the Bay and all of the ports and harbors it offers. Greg and I saw damage walking in … a lot of it … but there were still plenty of habitable spaces and buildings. And with no current bombing in this area the lack of people is illogical. No, something else is going on.”

“And that something is?”

“If I knew that then I wouldn’t need to pump the people coming in for information,” he said a little irritably. He walked away and then I saw him shaking himself mentally. I knew not to take his irritability personally and I knew at some point he’d try to make up for it. If I was hormonally challenged myself, I certainly wasn’t going to fault him for being a little stressed out.

The greatest challenge to our long-range planning was the simple lack of information. Back before the war neither one of us really cared about socializing, at least at that point and it had been a rare event in the past usually centered around some type of church function, office party, or something similar; but I did hate the claustrophobic feeling created by the lack of access to any information that we were experiencing now. As I’ve mentioned before, it’s like being partially deaf. I think my generation had gotten so used to instant access to tons of information that ending that access created a huge void. We had the ability to be hyper-connected to what was going on, like observant flies that could jump from point to point around the world almost at will. It had become a normal and accepted part of daily life … now nothing, not a blasted thing. It was like being handicapped.

I resolved to not be so anxious about the whole thing but to remain cautious. Easier said than done but what choice did I have? To that end I finished the hidden storage in the bunker and we moved in all of the remaining commercially packaged items we had left, except for a small supply of seasonings and enough of some bulk items that would last a week. Of those items I left out I strategically chose items from the supply that Tag had sent out that time. I thought it would look better just in case there were questions. I didn’t plan on them coming into the house much but on the other hand … well, I thought we’d just have to cross that bridge when we came to it.

We also moved a lot of the excess home preserved food into the hidden storage area as well. I couldn’t move it all in there or that would look suspicious, but we weren’t going to give away just how much we did have. If anyone said anything I figured I could tell them that it took me a while to get the garden off the ground. If that didn’t work I knew I could think on my feet as necessary. I wouldn’t lie unless I felt it absolutely necessary, but I wouldn’t pretend that I wouldn’t resort to it if I felt threatened.

The other thing I did was give the house a good cleaning; I put Mateo and Nydia to work as well. I think Mateo was mostly humoring me as he said at one point, “Leah, I don’t plan on them being in the house very much if at all.”

“Oh yeah? Then why exactly did we build all of that new hidden space?” I asked in a huff as I was turning Nydia’s mattress.

“Just in case this doesn’t go as planned,” he answered.

I looked at him and said, “My point exactly.”

He blinked, knowing that he was in check mate, and thankfully didn’t say anything more on the subject. Since we had been cleaning as we went when we removed all of the aluminum and sand bags from the house it only took two full days of hard work to do everything I wanted to do; after that it was just shutting off the upstairs to the children and maintaining the work downstairs. The added hidden storage actually did a lot to help me get organized and getting organized was half the battle of cleaning.

Of course, turnaround was fair play and for the next couple of days when I wasn’t in the garden I was helping Mateo to put away all of the salvage and wood he brought in. It was monotonous work … gathering, stacking, shifting, moving, labeling, then more gathering and stacking, etc. But since I didn’t have to think quite as much about what I was doing Mateo and I discussed what we would and would not do while Tag’s people were around.

One idea in particular that Mateo raised gave me some hope that we would actually get something concrete out of the visit. “Think about it Leah, since you will have so many extra hands in the garden why not make a plan to get the best use out of them.”

I must have gotten a wicked gleam in my eye because Mateo took one look and laughed. “You would have made a good corporate wife. Give you a goal and you’ll come up with a strategy to make it happen.”
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Part 13-2

“Do you miss it?” I asked him suddenly sensitive to what he might perceive to be a huge come down from his previous life.

“Some of it. I enjoyed helping people to realize their dreams … and I was good at it. I made people a lot of money Leah. I also liked the accolades that brought … and the prestige and power … the corner office with a view, the brass name plate that said here is a man that gets the job done for his clients.” Then he sighed, “But I don’t miss some of the … what you would call the shenanigans … that went on with office politics. The water cooler gossip, liquor laden lunches, having to flirt and bribe the right secretaries to make sure that my messages got where they were going and so my proposals didn’t get lost at the bottom of the stack. On the other hand, without those things perhaps we would not have come together. I’ll always regret the lie that brought us together mi Tesoro. And I’ll always feel blessed that God chose to use it and turn it to something good.”

We held each other for a few moments in complete accord. Somehow – I can’t remember who started it – the whole situation devolved into a tickle war and chasing each other around the yard while Nydia and Neeno giggled and shrieked with laughter at our silliness. That night after my loved ones fell asleep, the children in their beds and Mateo in his recliner while he waited for me to finish the last little bit of prep for the next day’s meals, I realized that Mateo and I actually got along better now than we ever had. Oh there was definitely love and lust before, we would joke and smile, but the laughter that we so often shared on a daily basis – even in the face of such a load of work and concern – only came to us after our long separation. We were so serious before, trying to prepare for we didn’t know what, but now despite it being worse than we had ever imagined we could play with each other. I try to imagine running around the yard like loons before he went away and I just can’t believe we ever would have; we were physically and mentally intimate but not emotionally or spiritually so. Now, even though daily life is a struggle for survival, play and laughter come so naturally to us there is no way that I would ever willingly choose to go back to the way things were before even if it meant undoing the months of misery I suffered in his absence.

The day before the Ag crew was scheduled to arrive it started to rain again. It didn’t just start to rain, it started and kept on raining for nearly three days straight never letting up to more than a light drizzle. We easily got over eighteen inches of rain according to the gauge we used to measure precipitation. Our pond that was just starting to go down not only filled back up but overflowed, something Mateo said he could never remember happening. The only thing that kept the pig pen from flooding and some of my garden beds was that all of the ponds and canals fed out into the swamp that in turn fed out into the retention ponds that lined the highway further up the road from us. Those retention ponds were just a little lower in elevation than our area of the road so that instead of the water backing up and truly flooding out our side of the road, the water flooded the highway and a couple of newer subdivisions to the north and south of our location. Even after the rain stopped, we couldn’t let the children out beyond the lanai because there were gators and snakes in locations they didn’t normally hang out in, like our front porch. We even found the big, furry cat sunning himself on our roof. He gave us a rather wet, half-hearted hiss before returning to his grooming schedule, so we left him alone.

Around mid-morning the next day we were outside investigating our septic field. The ground was truly saturated and we worried that the plumbing was going to back up into the house. Mateo and I had just put the concrete plug back onto the septic tank when we heard the unmistakable rumble of a big truck engine. It turned out to be two of them. One was a hard-sided personnel transport and the other was a soft-sided personnel transport of similar size, but it was pulling a hard-sided trailer. Bringing up the rear was a converted jeep looking vehicle; it wasn’t a humvee but it sure wasn’t your regular jeep you would have found on a car lot either, it had a huge and deadly looking gun mounted on it. As a matter of fact, all three vehicles looked like they were loaded for bear and then some. It made us very nervous.

A dirty and tired looking man in uniform stepped down from the lead truck and carefully walked over to the gate. “Excuse me, I hope that this is the Jakob residence or Major Taglione is going to tear me a new one.”

What on earth do you say to a greeting like that? After a few more minutes of Mateo making double sure that they were who they said they were introductions were made. The military patrol consisted of the team leader – or however they divvied up the authority – Sgt. Will Ortiz and patrolmen Robert Driver, Jason “JC” Clements, Fred Baines, Rick Montrose, Lou Chin, and medic Roger Lopez. The Ag crew consisted of an additional four people: Ag Specialist 1st Class Barker “Dog” Darnell and his wife Ag Specialist 2nd Class Lissette “Liz” Darnell, and their two apprentices – Ag Specialist 3rd Class Joseph Rodriguez and Ag Specialist 3rd Class Juliet Taglione. That’s right, Taglione; the Major had sent her daughter along with the rest of the crew and I had to guess it was an act of good faith. I was actually surprised by the Ag Crew. Dog was in his young thirties, Liz was in her late twenties but the other two were just babes in arms. Joseph claimed he was seventeen but I would have pegged him a year or two younger. Juliet wasn’t even sixteen yet. “Almost. Two months really shouldn’t matter that much.” Boy did I feel old all of a sudden.

Sgt. Ortiz handed a note to Mateo from Tag. In it she informed him that the men had been authorized to help him salvage within a reasonable distance from their base camp and that he was also offered the chance to go out on patrol with them to get a wider look at areas too far for him to travel on foot. I saw Mateo mentally check off something on his wish list and though my stomach squirmed a little at the thought of him going so far, I knew that it was inevitable and better to do it this way than solo and on foot.

To Sgt. Ortiz Mateo said, “I assume she is trying to encourage me to get to know you, give you a chance to earn my trust and for you to take my measure so you can report back to her.”

Sgt. Ortiz looked momentarily surprised then nodded and replied, “The Major told me you two weren’t your average survivor.” At Mateo’s questioning looked he added, “No offense. This patrol has done so many First Contacts that we have a formula. It’s good for us to have to reevaluate our approach now and again.”

“First contacts?” Mateo asked, seeking clarification.

“It’s an old Star Trek reference. In a nutshell, not everyone went into the refugee camps; only logical because if they had we couldn’t have held them all. Most people are ambivalent when they see military personnel – it brings to mind more bombs and the spot this country is in at the moment – but they usually don’t give us any trouble. We try and keep our contact with civilians to a minimum and liaison with locally stationed Guardsmen or local militia troops. We’ve found Outlanders to be a different kettle of fish. Those that have stayed in the Outlands are mostly either hard cases that are avoiding authority of any kind, those that have given up and are just waiting to die, or people that are just getting by but still putting one foot in front of the other. You people, this farmstead, it’s different. You’ve got it rough, same as the others, but you’ve gone above the subsistence level. Maybe the Major is right, and we can eventually use the Outlands to resettle people from the more crowded areas so that the government can disband the camps. Unlike you, most people we meet in the Outlands are actually looking for a ride to one of the processing camps, not the other way around.”

I stepped over to talk with Mr. Darnell who insisted I call him Dog and his wife Liz. “We’re just civilians. The titles are more of a courtesy than official in nature. They help us find where we are on a duty roster or flow chart but don’t really convey any special privileges or authority.”

I smiled and said, “Well then I’m Leah, you’ve met Mateo, and these two are Nydia and Michael though we all call him Neeno.”

I had thought to give them a day to get settled in and relax but Dog said, “The rain held us up two days on the road so we’ve only got eight left before we have to head back. If you don’t mind I’d prefer to get started right away … or at least right after we set up camp.”
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Part 13-3

This rushed my plans forward just a little but on the other hand I already had some ideas that I could put into place with no difficulty. First off Mateo and I took the children back to the house and I put together our lunch. In addition to the simple meal that I’d prepared for us I wanted to give the Ag Crew an idea of what my goals were when it came to gardening. Again, it was the idea that I wanted to utilize everything as constructively as possible, with as little work as possible, to facilitate the greatest gain as possible. To that end I was going to fix a small salad from the garden to give them all a taste, both figuratively and literally, of the potential that existed in this kind of gardening.

I made Broccoli and Carrot “Noodle” Salad using all fresh and raw ingredients. I took a head of broccoli and peeled the stalk and separated the florets. Next I used my spiral slicer and cut the broccoli stalk, a carrot, and a peeled cucumber. They looked like weird slinkies and I cut them so that the “noodles” weren’t quite so long. Then I mixed in a cup of sunflower seed sprouts and the small broccoli florets. I tossed it with a little homemade dressing and then put it on a platter on the lanai with a pitcher of cold guarapo. Guarapo is something that I found in Mateo’s mother’s recipe book. You take sugar cane juice and flavor it with a little natural lemon and/or lime juice. I wouldn’t call it lemonade, but it was something similar only with a tropical kind of taste to it.

Sgt. Ortiz was the first to spot the offering on the table. “Ma’am, Major Taglione said specifically that we were to be self-sufficient, that we weren’t to abuse your hospitality.”

“This isn’t abusing my hospitality Sergeant and I assure you I wouldn’t take food out of my family’s mouths just to schmooze your people. This is to make a point. I’m not sure the state of the food supplies you have at your base, but Tag sent the Ag Crew out here to learn how Mateo and I do things. If I offer something to the Ag Crew I’d like for you and your men to sample it as well that way you have more than one perspective to share with the Major when you go back.”

Rather reluctantly they all tried the small sample that I provided each of them. “Listen, I’m serious. It is one thing to read about something in a book. It’s another thing to do a hands-on experiment. But my job as I see it is not just to teach what I do but why I do it. In that question of why comes the rewards. So what do you think?”

Joseph, the young apprentice, spoke right up. “It looks funny but it tastes better than I thought.”

I heard one of the other men mutter, “If it isn’t nailed down that kid will eat it.”

I laughed and said, “I hope that’s not a comment on my culinary talents.”

JC looked chagrined and said, “No ma’am … but he’s right, it did look kind of strange – all of them curly cues with that green stuff mixed in.”

Lopez the medic shook his head and said, “That ‘green stuff’ is broccoli and has as much calcium as whole milk does. The … sunflower seed sprouts? … that’s the protein and it will also be loaded with enzymes and chlorophyll.” At my surprised look he said, “I have a rotation in the Nutrition department every other week. That’s why I was picked to be the medic this trip. We need to find new sources of vitamins and minerals to substitute for all of the enriched foods we were used to getting before, especially for the kids.”

I nodded. “Well Tag was certainly serious then so let’s not disappoint her.” For the rest of the day I took the Ag crew and gave them a very general overview of our production system and Mateo took the military guys and gave them a different kind of overview. When it was time for me to prepare the evening meal they went back to their camp to write up reports and prepare their own food.

As dark arrived and we closed the house for the night I was nervous about them camping over in the Trask’s yard until Mateo told me, “I think we can relax, at least where their intentions are concerned. Sgt. Ortiz and I discussed things and I’m certain as I can be that they are on the up and up.”

“And you think that you can get what you want out of them?”

He shrugged, “That remains to be seen. I’m not foolish Love, their current intent is harmless but I’m still uncertain about their long-range plans are in this area.”

The next day I really put my lesson plan into action and put them to work. “Rather than just describing what I do I want to show you from the ground up.”

We built several raised and covered beds that morning. As lunch time I approached though I found I wasn’t just a teacher but I was student as well.

“Portobello mushrooms? You grow your own Portobello mushrooms?” I asked Dog.

“Yep. It was a hobby of mine before things all fell apart. When the Major found out … well, I got a whole block in the base garden-lots to try and add some variety to our meals. I brought a bunch with me. You wouldn’t happen to have a good recipe would you?”

I laughed because they’d already figured out that I had a weakness for cookbooks and recipes of all sorts. “As a matter of fact I do.”

One of the tidbits of information that I’d picked up from listening to Joseph and Juliet was that fuel and the power it generated was strictly rationed at the Base. That caused a lot of challenges when it came to preparing the amount of food that was needed to feed all of the refugees living at the processing center. At the outlying camps it was an even bigger problem.

“You know,” I said. “My freshman year of college I … well, I put on the Freshman 15.”

“The what?” Juliet asked.

“The Freshman 15. It isn’t unusual for people to put on about 10 to 20 pounds their first year of college for various reasons and they average it out and call it the Freshman 15. And I packed those puppies on. As a result, I got very self-conscious and tried a bunch of different fad diets, then when the diets didn’t work I got into these whole lifestyles … paleo, vegan, and a couple of other ones. Actually my favorite was called the Raw Food Diet.” Joseph turned his nose up but I told him, “Relax, it isn’t what you’re thinking. It’s very vegan but in addition to that you don’t cook anything. I still serve a lot of dishes that I learned during that stage of my life and one of them is this fantastic Thai salad that uses Portobello mushrooms.”

I showed them how to do that and everyone got a sample except for Mateo and four of the other crew that were out on patrol. In the afternoon we planted the beds we had built that morning and then because I’d gotten a really good harvest of pumpkin and carrots for dinner that night I made raw Carrot and Pumpkin “Soup.”

We had to use my small, hand crank blender since it was so cloudy that we only had enough solar battery power to refill our potable water containers. For two servings you take a rounded cup of fresh, pureed pumpkin, one and one-half cups of pureed carrots, a little poultry seasoning, one and one-half teaspoons of garlic powder, one and one-half teaspoons of onion powder, almost one-inch pureed ginger root, a little sea salt (to taste), and put it all in the blender. As you are blending you add a little water at a time until you get the consistency that you want for your “soup.”

They were still a little unsure as to whether I was experimenting on them or not nonetheless Dog literally licked the small condiment cup of soup that I gave him clean. “Never thought of something like this. You know, I can’t wait to tell Lopez. I’m sure he’ll be over here tomorrow asking for the recipe. Think on it … it doesn’t require cooking. Every ingredient can be grown in our own garden … except for the sea salt and we’ll have to trade for salt no matter how you look at it. Plus, it should help with some of the nutritional holes we are trying to fill.”
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Part 13-4

Lopez didn’t even wait until morning but caught me as I was tossing my dish water at the cat who had decided that our yard would be a good place to sing and yowl in. The cat just ignored me but at Lopez’s approach he shot over the fence and up a tree. “Sorry. Did I scare him?”

I rolled my eyes and told him, “I doubt it. He’s just standoffish. Can I help you? Or are you looking for Mateo?”

“Actually I was wondering if you could give me the recipe for that pumpkin soup Dog won’t shut up about. Pumpkins are full of Vitamins A, C, K, and E, alpha and beta carotenes, magnesium, potassium, and even iron. That plus not having to cook it … I can’t wait to try it out on the Nutrition Department staff.”

“I’ve got one for using zucchini and butternut squash too,” I told him. “The only thing is that it calls for a tablespoon of almond butter and a little soy sauce.”

“I want it … and for the almonds talk to Liz.” He left without an explanation so it wasn’t until the next morning that I could satisfy my imagination.

At my question Liz laughed and said, “Well, I suppose it really isn’t funny but to me it is. I’m deathly allergic to milk. I can’t even get dairy products on my skin. It is the primary reason I’m on the triage list.”

Slightly more confused than I was already I told her, “I heard Tag mention this triage thing before. I hadn’t wanted to ask but is Juliet …?”

“The daughter that is on the triage list?” At my nod she said, “Yeah. All of us are on the triage list.”

“OK … that’s not making too much sense at the moment,” I said confused and concerned at the same time.

“You have to understand … it’s a big thing, or can be, but at the same time it isn’t … at least not for those of us here. The triage rules are federal; you either follow them or you can lose your access to the staple goods and medical supplies that the government is trying to provide to the military bases and refugee camps. The rules make sense most of the time. Medical supplies and medicines are in such short supply that they need to be used to their maximum benefit so just like in an overrun emergency room that means that the least ill get seen first because they are the most likely to benefit from treatment. No waste in the system.”

Hesitantly, “I understand the policy in theory but … I’m not sure I could put it into practice myself.”

Liz shrugged, “You do what you have to. The Major, she takes it personally and not just because of Julie. The only way around the triage rules is if the person in question is considered vital personnel.”

Beginning to see what was coming I just looked at Liz who nodded, “You’ve got it. To offset the triage rules the Major tries to make sure that all those that are triaged are trained in the departments or programs that offer the greatest protection without putting anyone else at risk. The triaged kids like Joey and Julie are apprenticed out as soon as anyone discerns any talent in a certain direction. We’ve got apprentices that are as young as eight. We don’t have any that young in our department but you should see them in Communications. They’re teaching those kids languages and how to operate the equipment … you go over there around lunch time and the break room looks like it has been taken over by a bunch of possessed monkeys. Strangely enough though they really do serve a vital purpose; those kids are fast as greased lightning delivering notes all over base since we don’t have the energy to run a regular intercom system.”

“What about those people that don’t show aptitude or those too old to be considered vital?”

Liz shook her head, “Guess you don’t know. The average age of those at Base is around forty. Anyone that was on maintenance meds pretty much either learned to survive without the drugs or they died around the time the UN was bombed. We’ve got some older folks, but the Major doesn’t let ‘em just sit around collecting dust. Usually they are teaching or training kids on whatever they did before they reached retirement age. In fact, if you broke the different departments down by age it would be our medical staff that are the oldest, what we’re missing there is the people in their 20s, 30s, and 40s. A lot of them died during the period of forced medical draft when they got pulled into the MASH units or around the quarantine zones to deal with people exposed to radiation.”

Struggling to understand I said, “I keep getting mixed signals. On the one hand things sound so grim, yet on the other none of you seem to be downtrodden or anything even approaching that.”

Dog came up right at that point and said, “Given the alternative, most of us are just happy to have a place and a job to do that puts food on the table.”

After thinking a moment I said, “I guess we got away from it or I’m still not getting it … what did Lopez mean?”

“Oh that,” Liz said. “Dog and I barter some of our work credits for some of the higher priced trade items, in this case almonds. I make almond milk for myself when I want it. When I’m running low on almonds I’ll make soy milk but I prefer nut milk. I can drink goat’s milk without a reaction so long as I don’t drink a lot of it.”

“They have goats on Base?”

I found out they didn’t keep the goats on the Base but at the dairy farm that was adjacent to the crop fields. The manure generated at the dairy farm was their primary source of fertilizer for the crops. Juliet told me all about the goats then said, “I was going to apprentice with the animals caregivers but the guy who runs it is a … er … him and Mom … I mean the Major … don’t always see eye to eye and to spite her he refused to take me on. He claimed that he couldn’t risk my health by exposing me to the animals, as well as the potential injuries involved, when I don’t have access to medical care. She tries real hard not to throw her weight around and get my family special privileges so I wound up in Agriculture. I think I like this better; I haven’t travelled too much but certainly more than I would have if I was stuck at the dairy all the time and in Ag I’m still living at home on base so I get to see my parents pretty much every day.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever heard what your father’s avocation is.”

“His what? Oh, you mean what he does … he’s a landscape architect. He pretty much single handedly designed the green spaces on Base and helped get the farm off the ground by knowing which plants grow well next to each other and which ones don’t. He designed the watering system too. It’s pretty cool. Now he and I can talk to each other while Robert, Priss, and Mom talk their shop.”

“There’s three of you?”

“Four. Vi is the youngest and isn’t really assigned to any program yet. Let’s see, Robert is nineteen, Priss is seventeen, I’m almost sixteen, and Vi … that’s short for Violet … is thirteen. Vi is … different. She’s not mentally challenged or anything but she has trouble processing stuff if too many things come at her at once. We think she’s growing out of it but still, with the way things go on Base you never know so mostly Vi hangs out with Dad and he’s teaching her graphic arts and stuff like that. She’s pretty good at it too. If all she had to do was draw all day she’d be fine … but you know how it is.”

I nodded knowing exactly how it was. I’d had a few students like that with hard to classify and quantify “syndromes” that made the traditional classroom setting a nightmare for them. I looked over at that moment and said more sharply than I had meant to, “Ack! Joseph, what are you doing?!”

Startled he said, “Uh, prepping this pumpkin for that dehydrator thing like you wanted.”

I took a breath and apologized for yelling. “Look, we need to separate stuff out and not just dump it all in the trash pile. The rind will go to the pigs, the stem into the compost bucket, but the seeds need to be scooped out and set into this bowl.”

He shook his head and asked why. “Well, if I didn’t already have enough seeds I would set these aside for the next season’s planting. But since I do have enough seeds for that I want to use these seeds to make a snack.” As soon as I was sure that Joseph wasn’t going to throw the seeds away again I turned to Dog and said, “I don’t mean to sound snarky but is food being wasted on Base?”

He gave it an honest think before replying. “Mistakes have definitely been made, especially in the beginning. As far as waste goes today however, that is way, way down. Food is too precious and for the most part people have gotten over their reluctance to eat food that might not be what they are used to. Smaller portions helped partially and if you work long hours, you get hungry. If you get hungry enough you’ll eat whatever is put in front of you.”

To show them how to utilize even something as unassuming as a bowl of pumpkin guts I showed them how to make Mustard-Ginger Pumpkin Seed Crunchies. I started with five cups of dry pumpkin seeds and set them to sprouting. I already had some ready since it takes one to two days to sprout them and then another day to dehydrate the sprouts. To the dried pumpkin sprouts I added three tablespoons of sea salt, a quarter cup of honey, one and one-half tablespoons of cider vinegar, one-half teaspoon of ginger powder, one teaspoon of mustard powder, one teaspoon of garlic powder, one-half teaspoon of curry powder, and one tablespoon of dried Italian seasoning. I mixed everything in a bowl and then spread it on a non-stick tray liner that I stuck into the dehydrator. It was a good day and after a couple of hours I flipped the whole mess over so it would dry evenly to a crunch stage. It made a bunch so I was able to send most of it back with the crew for an evening snack while still having plenty for Mateo and Nydia to eat.

“You aren’t eating Leah. Is everything all right?” Mateo asked after giving me a serious look.

Stretching my neck I said, “I’m fine. It’s just after having almost no information I feel a little like I’m on overload. I snapped at Joseph today when there really wasn’t any reason to react as strongly as I did.” I explained what had happened, but Mateo took a different view of it.

“My grandmother would have thrown something at the boy.”

“What?! You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

“No, she could be a cranky old thing, but it is because she grew up with so little. In her eyes wasting food was one of the worst sins you could commit. Her and her siblings nearly starved to death during the Great Depression. Leah, any food source must be taken completely seriously. A seemingly innocent mistake today could cost lives tomorrow. I have to tell you that the men, especially Lopez, are very impressed with how you run things … how economical each day’s chores are and how far you can stretch the food, how you multi-purpose almost everything you do. They’re taking notes.”

I must have turned bright red because he said something to the effect that they can take their notes but that they wouldn’t be taking me. We kind of got off the subject for a few minutes while I enjoyed his particular attention, but we came back around when he brought up the next day’s expedition. “I know you are not exactly happy with me going Leah.”

“I’m not exactly unhappy either. I know you’ve wanted to travel further afield for some time now. I just wish that ‘afield’ was a little closer to home.”

“You know I will be careful.”

“Of course I do. And you know that even though I know you’ll be careful that I’ll worry anyway until I get used to you traveling again.”

“Perhaps so, but that is tomorrow and this is tonight. Now, let’s go to bed so I can show you exactly how glad I am that you are my woman.”

That I could readily agree to. Tomorrow would be another day and the fourth day that the Ag Crew would be observing and taking notes. The lessons were going as planned but it was considerably more tiring than I had expected and I still had five more days to go before they left. I hoped those days would go as reasonably well as the first three had.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________

Part 14: Garden Magic​


This is the garden’s magic,
That through the sunny hours
The gardener who tends it,
Himself outgrows his flowers.
-Marie Nettleton Carroll



I was up early the next morning, even before the crew’s shift change. I waved at Lou Chin who beckoned me over; I went as far as the gate.

“Morning Lou!”

“Morning ma’am. Um … I have what may sound like a strange question, but I’ve been wondering. Do you have any recipes for seaweed?” At my considering look he added, “Don’t look at me like that please. It ain’t ‘cause I’m Chinese … I’m only quarter Chinese actually … and I hate sushi. It’s because I’ll be transferring to a camp set up along the coast when we get back from this run. Just something you said yesterday triggered a memory from when I was a kid. My great grandmother was raised in Ningbo; mostly fishing was a good living back in those days but there were times when she said God turned His face away and they would nearly starve. Sometimes it would get so bad that they survived on seaweed alone. So anyway, I’ve heard that you can harvest seaweed near where this camp is going to be and I was wondering if you had a recipe for it that doesn’t involve raw fish or octopus.”

I smiled. “I’m not a fan of sushi either though Mateo likes it.” I made a face and shuddered remembering what the fillings inside some of those round little packages looked like. “However I do happen to have a recipe you might like. I was introduced to it by a friend of my dad’s who was a commercial fisherman. It’s called Seaweed Chowder.”

You take two ounces of dried seaweed and soak it in water for fifteen minutes to an hour then drain it and transfer to another bowl. In a blender combine three cups of water, one cup of pine nuts, two cloves of peeled garlic, a quarter cup of lemon juice, and a half teaspoon of sea salt. You serve the liquid “soup” with the seaweed, no cooking involved. “I like the chowder part with or without the seaweed so even if the seaweed is something you decide you don’t like you won’t be wasting much.”

“Cool,” he said before going in to write up the directions down. Before he got all the way inside I told him, “You might also want to note that seaweed makes a good addition to compost as long as the salt has been washed out of it. When I’m short on green stuff for our compost piles I skim the scum and algae from the ponds and canals. Algae, seaweed, and moss add nitrogen to compost and help to get some heat action going.”

He nodded before closing the door and when I turned I was startled to find Mateo behind me. “You’re up early,” he said.

I sighed, “I’m nervous. I know I shouldn’t be … I have confidence in you … I’m still a little anxious though.”

“Oh. So … you’ll miss me today?”

I playfully threw the dandelion head I had just picked at him and asked, “What kind of question is that? I’m going to have to keep myself busy all day long until you get back just to keep myself from worrying and getting silly.”

He shrugged a little too casually and I knew immediately that something was up. “Mateo Jakob, what is on your mind?”

“I thought that perhaps … all of these young men around to admire you and …”

I turned my head so fast to look at him my eyes nearly crossed. “What on earth? That’s insulting … and … and … saying it right before you go off … and …”

Mateo shook his head, “I’m an idiot.”

“Yes you are. I can’t believe you.”

“I said I was an idiot.” Unfortunately, he only seemed to be saying it to appease me so I stomped off towards the kitchen. He caught up with me and finally admitted, “I’m a huge idiot.”

“Yes you are. Honestly, what is with you this morning?”

He sighed, “I don’t like the competition.”

I growled, “Better change that to ginormous idiot. Do I look like a bone to you, one to be fought over by a bunch of animals?! Do I seem to be the kind of woman that would put up with that sort of tug o’ war nonsense? And exactly what do you think of my character that I would …”

“Whoa,” he said trying to forestall my temper that rarely if ever was directed at him, especially the quick hot flash that I was sending his way at that moment. “All right, I’m a ginormous idiot. There isn’t a word for how big an idiot I’m being. Mi Corazon, mi Amor, mi Tesoro …”

“None of that. I’m not going to fall for it this time Buster. Seriously, what on earth set you off on this course? Mateo … you really have hurt my feelings you know.”

“Leah, I … I’m sorry.” He sighed. “It isn’t you I don’t trust, it … it isn’t even those other men. If I didn’t trust them I wouldn’t be leaving today. I don’t know where it came from. I suppose … perhaps I am not quite the assured man of the world you imagine me to be.” At that moment the only thing I was imagining was him barely ducking from my cast iron skillet in time to avoid serious injury but I didn’t tell him that. “Am I forgiven?” he asked.

“Of course but geez Mateo, don’t do that again. I don’t consider it the least bit complimentary even if women like Rachel did … or do … or whatever.”

“What does that hell cat have to do with this?” Mateo asked stupefied that I’d bring up his old girlfriend.

“Everything and nothing. Apparently all the other women you’ve ever dealt with were like Rachel … and as we are both well aware, I’m not. I don’t have the least desire to live that kind of drama, playing one man off another, so please don’t make the mistake of putting me in that category again.”

“Hmmm,” he muttered. “I suppose you would see it that way, but I wasn’t thinking in those terms. Either way my lesson is learned.” After a moment he asked, “It truly doesn’t bother you to have so many men around with me away for the day?”

I shrugged and told him, “They’re just Tag’s puppies for the most part. Besides are you forgetting Liz and Juliet?”

Ignoring the names of the other females he persisted, “These men are not puppies like Decker.”

“I suppose not but that still doesn’t change my confusion over why bring this up at all.”

He sighed, “I’m jealous.”

“And have I ever given you are reason to be jealous?” I asked nearly irritated all over again.

“No. At least not intentionally.”

“Then what’s the problem?” I asked, not real happy with how he phrased his answer.

“You are a great asset Leah.”

“Thank you Mateo I’m glad you think … wait … that didn’t sound like a compliment.”

He shook his head. “If I explain I’ll only be digging my hole deeper.”

“If? If you explain?” I asked impatiently.

He shook his head again and reluctantly smiled. “You look like a fuzzed up kitten. Only a wise man would realize that you’ve got sharp claws under all of that fluff.”

I tapped my toe and wanted to tell him that a wise men would know that calling me a fuzzy kitten in my current mood wasn’t the smartest course of action. “You’re definitely digging your hole deeper … and you’re stalling.”

He nodded. “Yes I am.” He sighed. “You are an asset Leah. Figuratively and literally”. Leaning on the counter while I packed his lunch he added, “I overheard Montrose and Baines talking. They said you’d have all the single men – and probably some of the married ones as well – at the Base vying for your attention. You could have your pick and maybe some that wouldn’t even mind sharing. It isn’t just your youth and vitality but all of the knowledge you have … apparently your brain is very sexy.”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed. It was just too absurd. “Oh Mateo. That has to be … oh my … the most backhanded compliment I’ve ever heard.” I finally stopped and wiped my eyes on my apron. I noticed he was looking disgruntled. I hugged him and then kissed his chin since he wouldn’t bend down. “Come on Mateo. Can’t you just see Rachel’s face if you said something similar to her? That her looks wouldn’t buy her anything but a sexy brain could …” I was back to trying to control my laughter.

Slowly Mateo unbent and reluctantly smile. “She would be appalled.”

Gasping I said, “My point exactly. Mateo, frankly I don’t care what anyone else … male or female … thinks of me in that respect. You’re the one I’m with, the only one I’m with, the only one I want to be with. So long as you think my brain is sexy I’m satisfied.” I lost the battle and giggled again. “Now stop it, all right? Honestly, the things that go through your head sometimes. If you start worrying again just remember that if not for you I wouldn’t be here … I’d probably have gotten sucked up into some refugee camp if I had even survived that far.”

“Do not say that,” he grumbled. “And besides, I don’t want you here because you feel like you have no other choice or out of some sense of gratitude.” I hugged him and he finally relaxed.

I told him, “Don’t worry, I’m not.” To top it off I gave him what was supposed to be a sultry look but it only made him laugh … but in a very male, my pride has been assuaged, kind of way. I swear, there is nothing truer than a man simply thinks completely differently from a woman. But perhaps, had I been faced with seeing Mateo in the midst of a bunch of females and overheard the same thing I’d be a bit touchy, especially after having him to myself for so long. Mateo was a catch … Latin good looks that were only getting better with age and experience, just enough machismo to keep life interesting without getting irritating, all combined with his own bit of “sexy brain.” You live, you learn and still your pasts will sometimes collide in unexpected ways. I resolved to be more circumspect in my dealings with other men in the future. Growing up I had noticed my parents took great pains to never be alone with the opposite sex. They always said that it was so that nothing they did could incite gossip but perhaps it was also a sign of respect to each other. I certainly wouldn’t be taking Mateo’s feelings on the subject for granted from that point forward.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Part 14-2

After I watched Mateo ride away in the transport I had to shake myself so that I could settle down to business. August would normally have been excruciatingly hot but instead it was warm yet still pleasant except in the interior of the swamp. The difference from what it was and what it should have been inspired me to cover the changing weather patterns and how they had influenced and nearly dictated my plans.

“The weather is actually what instigated the covered raised beds,” I told the Ag crew. They followed me back to the gardens right after the patrol left for the day. “For the most part, as you’ve seen, I start all of my seeds indoors in newspaper pots or something similar and then transfer them to the raised beds after I harden them off. I can’t be the only one that has noticed the bloom schedule is off for a lot of the trees and plants.” At their nod I continued, “Instead of the normal planting chart that you would find in books for this area I’ve actually had to keep a close eye on the temperatures – the lows and highs and frost dates – and then I plant based on the recommendations that were on the seed packets. For instance when the night time lows don’t fall below fifty degrees or so many days after the last frost. It hasn’t assured success but I’ve had fewer false starts that way.”

Dog nodded, “The first crops that we tried to plant were a complete disaster. Luckily for us we had enough seed to try a second time but not all of the camps were so lucky. Up north was really bad.”

I asked, “Just how bad is it up north?”

“It was real bad there for a while and a lot of people are really worried what this winter will bring. Last winter unheard of lows every day, ice storms, blizzards, waterways were frozen solid and all of the damage that comes from those things were just made worse by the fact that there were no road crews to clear the roads, clear fallen trees, salt the bridges, or anything. Spring barely came in some locations, summer was a complete no-show, and we’ve heard they’ve already had snowstorms in a couple of places and it is still August. Chicago never did thaw out because of all the cold air coming off the Great Lakes. Maine … communication in the backwoods of that state is so rare that any news coming out of it is a big deal. Canada is a huge popsicle, the only difference being that they seemed to be better prepared for the weather shift in the beginning than we were. They didn’t lose as many up front as we did percentage wise but their attrition rate from starvation and disease is on par with what our northern states are exhibiting now.”

Still concerned I asked, “And food?”

“It’s going further than they thought because so many have died.” At my stricken look he said, “Sorry, I keep forgetting that what is common knowledge to us is brand new to you.”

“Common knowledge it may be, but it still doesn’t change the fact that a lot of people have died unnecessarily, all for the lack of a plan.”

“Try millions died over this last winter,” Liz added. “We’ve been shown pictures of trash incinerators that have been converted to huge crematoriums just to keep more deaths from disease from occurring.”

I was already a tad depressed but every bit of news that morning seemed to heap a few more coals on the fire. For every good thing that I learned, two or three bad things would be added to the other side of the balance sheet. West Nile was all but wiped out as was Lyme Disease … but TB was running rampant in some refugee centers as were all sorts of gastro diseases and diseases that can be transmitted by mice, rats, and fleas. I couldn’t take any more and finally stopped asking questions.

At lunch time I didn’t have an appetite but Nydia came to me begging to have “crunchy fries and ketchup” for lunch. Joseph and Juliet overheard and you could see the hopeful look on their faces as they gave me puppy dog eyes. I had to laugh despite the stern look that Dog tried to give them. “You might not like my fries and ketchup … they’re good for you.”

Crestfallen Joseph said, “Let me guess … there’s another experiment coming.”

Juliet sighed and said, “You know, there are some things in life that just aren’t meant to be good for you.”

That set everyone off laughing and I thought, “Why not?”

I grabbed a good-sized jicama out of the root bin and scrubbed it before slicing it so it looked like a pile of French fries that I then put into a bowl. Over the top of the “fries” I drizzled two tablespoons of olive oil, one tablespoon of paprika, one tablespoon of onion powder, and a little sea salt to taste. I let this sit while I prepared the ketchup. I took my hand blender and mixed together a quarter cup of onion powder, a quarter cup of apple cider vinegar, a quarter cup of raisins, a tablespoon of sea salt, and one-half cup of dried tomatoes that had been soaked for a couple of hours and then drained. I put a few fries on some small plates and then let them spoon out some of the ketchup.

“Oh … my … gosh,” Juliet said. She turned to Liz and said, “If they served this in the mess hall I can tell you that the kids would be lining up to do anything you said just so they’d get a chance to have them again.”

I rolled my eyes and gave the rest of mine to Nydia and Neeno and Dog and Liz gave theirs to Joseph and Juliet. While the kids noshed on their treat, I pulled out my little bottle of virgin sangria base and then using one of the few small bottles of club soda I had left fixed the adults a beverage more suited to our age and tastes.

“Give me the recipe?” Liz asked.

“Sure but you won’t get the fizz unless you can add some carbonation.”

Dog grinned and winked, “Not a problem. A little baking soda, a little citric acid … it’s not the perfect solution but when it’s all you got you learn to be satisfied.”

The afternoon was filled with garden maintenance, adding another couple of covered beds and planting them, pruning some trees, and prepping harvested items for the dehydrators. I kept listening for the sound of Mateo returning and he finally did right before I could get truly anxious.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Part 14-3

The kids got to Poppy first but I wasn’t far behind and he was in a fantastic mood. “Leah, look what is in the back.”

Of course I did so without being cautious and I squawked like a chicken and nearly fell over when I opened the back door and was greeted with the glassy eyes and inch long teeth of a freshly killed bull alligator. “Mateo!”

“Not the gator Leah, the rest of it,” he joked.

I had definitely missed everything else and after warily making sure the large gator was well and truly dead I climbed up and tried to make heads and tails of the jumble. I just shook my head. “You’ll have to explain it to me in a bit. Let’s get that gator over to the butchering area before it gets ripe. I assume you want to grill out tonight?”

Sgt. Ortiz grinned nearly as big as Mateo which told me that a hunting story was going to be told. I just rolled my eyes at the whole male thing that was definitely going on. The Ag Crew were interested in the story of the gator’s demise and the processing of his meat. I on the other hand had a marinade to prepare and a grill to warm up.

In the end it was a real group effort and eclectic meal. The gator tail was cut into kabobs and the ribs were marinated in a citrus mix and brushed with a marmalade sauce while they cooked. I made a couple of different salads from our garden and sliced some homegrown beefsteak tomatoes. The others donated some lentils and enough rice to make a huge skillet of pilaf. For dessert I added some cane juice sweetened fresh fruit to their dried fruit cocktail mix. A couple of skillets of seasoned cornbread served as our bread.

While the men manned the grill I cut up the remaining meat for smoking and canning; the canned meat we would put in our storage but the smoked would be eaten in the coming days. We all ate hardy. It had been a while since I could remember being that full. It didn’t take the children long, despite the excitement, to fall asleep. I was coming back onto the lanai after putting them both to bed and caught Dog patting his belly.

“I can’t believe how well you all do on meat protein. Liz’s little brother is apprenticing in the nutritional medicine department – he works with Roger a couple times a month – and despite the manpower devoted to it, it’s always a struggle. We’ve managed to have meat protein three times a week the last few months …”

Liz broke in, “… Thanks to the Major setting that camp up on the coast with a Guardsmen base camp to guard them.”

Dog nodded before continuing, “We have some kind of seafood every Friday. Then the other two days are whatever we can … beef is rare but we do have it on occasion, fowl is more often but not necessarily chicken but don’t tell the refugees that, goat meat and something out of the wild is what we have most often.”

“Then why the surprise?” I asked.

“It’s one of the biggest complaints … not enough meat. Meats and bread. That’s all anyone seems to think about. If they only knew how lucky they are to have the Major coordinating things. We have one of the best intake bases in the state.”

Joseph, not nearly as shy as he had been the first couple of days said, “We’ve had a lot of out-of-state people come to see how we do things. Most of them leave shaking their heads saying we’re being too easy on people. It doesn’t matter that it is working, that the dying has all but stopped in the camps except for what Roger there calls a natural mortality rate. What they don’t like is that it is more work for them to change.”

“Mom says,” Juliet stopped, blushing. “I mean the Major says that people will live up to your lowest expectation of them. If you expect people to act like animals and then treat them that way, that’s how they’ll act. If you expect people to act with dignity and then treat them like they have more than two brain cells to rub together to get a spark you’ll have fewer who … er …” She slowed down and noticing the pink in her cheeks I had to laugh.

“I can imagine what she says. Your mom has a colorful way of expressing herself on occasion.”

Relived Juliet said, “And how. She treats people the way she expects to be treated … until they hack her off then you just better watch out ‘cause she’ll blow both barrels at you with no warning. She hates it when people forget to take their brains out and use them. She doesn’t put up with too much crud at all. And if you want to keep all your body parts don’t tell her you can do her job better than she can and then refuse to prove it. Dad says she can’t afford to let things pile up or get out of control ‘cause she’s the one with her keester on the line for all the refugees under her authority … the staff and personnel too.”

“Uh huh. And anyone with sense wants the Major to stay,” Joseph said.. “I was sent to the camp when my foster family dumped me and that was before the bombs started falling. It turned into a nightmare before the Major arrived. We got fed once a day if we were lucky; MREs in the beginning but that didn’t last long. Right before the Major arrived we were down to a cup of rice or a cup of plain ol’ oatmeal a day. The water was bad. There weren’t enough latrines and they were all clogged and disgusting. The camp was full of fleas and roaches. I’d rather die than go back to living that way.”

“Is that why you are apprenticing with the Darnells? To make sure there is enough to eat?” I asked.

He got a sad look on his face. “Mostly. I’m hoping maybe …” He stopped and shrugged but peeped at Juliet.

I thought he’d joined to be with her but instead he was asking Juliet to explain. “The Major … she didn’t have much choice. Some people, especially some teens and college age kids, they didn’t like the rules … any rules; they couldn’t even follow their own. She wound up having to lock some of them up and on top of that putting a lot of them out on a work farm – it’s a converted juvie hall sort of thing. The worst of them – the ones that the farms don’t settle down or who do something really heinous – get sent to a prison off the coast. It’s an old oil rig that’s been stripped of everything but living quarters; supplies are dropped shipped once a week.”

“Isn’t that dangerous for the guards?”

Sgt. Ortiz said, “Aren’t any guards. No need for them. No way of escape. Too far to land to swim. No materials to build a raft strong enough to get you to shore. Even if they try it … and a few have of course … there are Naval and Coast Guard patrol boats out there and anything that isn’t supposed to be on the water gets sunk. The area around the rigs are mined to prevent anyone from approaching and either rescuing them or … otherwise.”

I must have looked shocked and of all people it was young Joseph who said, “I know how it sounds but do you know how bad you gotta be to be sentenced there? There’s all sorts of chances … starting with you can just walk away. The camps ain’t prisons, at least ours ain’t. You don’t like the rules you can just go. People do it all the time.”

Robert Driver who has to be one of the quietest people I’ve ever met in my life said, “Problem is most of those try and come back within a few weeks of ‘freedom’. Most of the complainers are too soft to make it on their own.”

Joseph added, “My brother did that; left and then came back. More than once. Second time he was put in Work Camp A for two weeks. Then when he came back to Base he got caught trading drugs for people’s food rations. That got him jail time. Then he tried to start a riot while he was in there so he got sent to Work Camp B which is like the State Pen. Last I heard he’s got two strikes against him in there and one more will see him sent offshore or maybe even shot if he does something stupid like attack a guard. If I can just get him to see things could be good, even better than we had it before, he’d stop.”
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Part 14-4

The shame of it was that Joseph believed it. But from the looks on the others faces he was the only one. Feeling bad for the kid I told him, “People have to make their own choices Joe. You’re going to have to accept that if your brother continues to make the kinds of choices he has been making then it is no reflection on you. It isn’t because you didn’t work hard enough or long enough or did the right or wrong thing.” He shrugged. Apparently he had heard that before.

Changing the subject Mateo said, “Corazon, perhaps you will give the directions for those things you call rawsages? They are not as good as your bean burgers but they are very good wrapped in a warm biscuit.”

Mateo was talking about the Italian Rawsages that I started making as soon as my lettuce came in. They aren’t bad at all. You take a cup of shelled pumpkin seeds, a half a head of lettuce, a half cup of olive oil, five cloves of garlic, a half cup of onion powder, a tablespoon of caraway seeds, a tablespoon of dried sage, and a half bunch of fresh basil and blend them all together in a food processor. Then you form the resulting mix into sausage shaped patties or “logs”. You can eat it as is at that point but I prefer to dehydrate mine until they are firm on the outside but still moist on the inside.

The party was late breaking up. We sat for a while, quiet and replete, and watched the bats as they hypnotically swooped and dived in the backyard. Because of all the rain the mosquito population exploded. At certain times of day we would simply retreat to the screened lanai and kill the ones that had followed us in. Without the bats, frogs, and ducks who ate the mosquito larva we’d have been overrun and sucked dry before we knew it. Eventually though they did go back to their trailer, though I noticed it was reluctantly for a few of them.

“It is pleasant to have company but I’m not sad to see them leave for the night either,” Mateo said as he stretched and popped. I snorted silently but he saw me roll my eyes since he turned unexpectedly. “Leah? Didn’t you have a good time?”

I sighed. “Of course I did. It’s just there is some clean up that still needs doing and I’m beat on my feet. But since we don’t have a refrigerator it isn’t like I can leave cleaning up the food until the morning.”

He shook his head. “Ah Leah, I did not think … here, let me help.”

“No, go to bed. You are going out on patrol again tomorrow morning early and you need to rest. I’ll be fine.”

“Leah …”

“Go.” I wasn’t just being a martyr because I enjoyed it. Mateo really did need to rest, he was very dark under the eyes and there was a full day of salvage tomorrow because they had found a pretty good treasure trove of potentially useful things.

“I’ll make it up to you Love.” I shook my head with a nonverbal never-mind, turned him and gently pushed him in the direction he needed to go; and he did, but reluctantly. I knew though he’d be asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow; he’d had a long and productive day. As for me the mess really wasn’t all that bad, I was mostly tired too and complaining a bit just to let off some steam. It was stressful trying to concentrate on what I was doing, distract myself from worrying about Mateo’s absence, and assimilate all the new information I was picking up from our visitors.

The haul they had brought in from the day’s salvage run was nothing short of stupendous compared to what we had been doing and it was all because of the stop they made at this big DOT maintenance warehouse. The place was completely collapsed on one end but on the other it was only dilapidated and partially destroyed. What was crazy was that no one had really gotten to it to take off with its contents. Sgt. Ortiz told Mateo that it was possible that it was either one of the last areas evacuated or there had been a clerical error showing that it had already been cleaned out.

What got to Mateo is upon opening the door it was like entering Wonderland. The first thing the military guys did was raid the offices for the coffee and condiments. There wasn’t a lot but Mateo let them have it. There were partial packs of cigarettes in a couple of desk drawers too that made Baines moan in ecstasy. Lopez hit the first aid supply cabinet and you could hear him mumbling a prayer of thanksgiving. Mateo on the other hand bypassed all of the immediate gratification of the small finds and headed straight for the open warehouse area and straight over to a line of forklifts. Unbelievably all of them had batteries still attached and there was a wall with heavy metal shelving that contained a couple of replacement batteries.

Once the men saw what he was doing JC and Bobby Driver ran out back and then called for Ortiz who came back in with a manic look on his face. “Matt, I’ll help you load anything in here that you want but we need that fuel out back.” He looked like he was ready to barter a few body parts for it and Mateo admitted to being tempted but he said, “Deal.” It was no skin off our nose as nothing we had used diesel. I suppose we could have come up with a use for it but the batteries and some of the other stuff Mateo found was infinitely more valuable to us.

The value of the batteries was only outweighed by the value of the individual pv panels that were meant to be attached to road signs. With those pv panels and batteries we’ll be able to more than triple our energy storage. There were some skids and trailers and Mateo intended on hauling a couple of them back to expand our storage. When I asked him where he intended on us putting them I discovered that it was his plan to take over Gerald’s yard. I wasn’t thrilled. I still expected Gerald to come back and make a huge stink about everything we’ve done to the neighborhood.

That was when I learned the horrible truth. “Gerald is dead Leah. He’s not coming back. I doubt his wife or children will care to make a scene considering he was executed for the crime of espionage.”

“What?” I asked horrified.

“I don’t have all of the details but apparently he had been involved in some black-market ring before we were all taken away from the neighborhood. He tried to continue the association after we were sent off to … boot camp I suppose is what you would call it, some kind of quasi-federally approved UN processing camp. He was trading information for luxury items like liquor, cigarettes, and good quality boots and it eventually came to the ear of the wrong person … or right one depending on how you look at it. He was caught red handed and was executed by firing line two days later.”

I didn’t know what to say and Mateo said there wasn’t anything to say. “It is old news to me Leah and I shouldn’t have told you, you’ll only worry and wonder about what else went on. Let’s just be happy with the largesse that we found.”

That was a lot easier to say than it was to do although thinking about the other things that they had found certainly was a distraction – a supply of concrete and asphalt, chains and ropes and wire, road flares, heavy duty shelving, office supplies, a couple of thousand-gallon water tanks and one five-thousand gallon water tank, cable and chain hoists, and all sorts of miscellaneous odds and ends. I wasn’t sure where we were going to put it all but Mateo said that it could go in the trailers until he could get everything organized the way he wanted it.

It just so happened that there was a small strip mall next door to the DOT offices. There wasn’t a speck of food to be found there but while ninety percent of everything had been cleared out of all the stores there were a couple of extraordinary finds. From a bar located on the far end he brought me one of those industrial juicing machines; it looked like a Vita-Mix on steroids. The bar had apparently also specialized in one of those healthy juice and smoothie counters during the lunch time rush. In addition to the electric juicer there was a manual citrus press, stainless steel ice scoops that would work great for our grains and dehydrated veggies, bar towels, manual can openers, funnels and strainers, and other small ware. A Chinese restaurant had some janitorial supplies and a bunch of kitchen equipment that would hold up to open flame cooking. He found similarly useful baking equipment in a pizza place which gave me the idea to build a medieval style outdoor brick oven once the worst rush with the garden was over. A catering company had all sorts of goodies and those Mateo split with Tag’s people because it would be useful in starting a new community; we certainly didn’t need eleventy-dozen sets of silverware and plates though I did decide to put two dozen in storage in case I should ever need them. There was a dental office that Mateo said looked like a herd of elephants had trampled through it – probably looking for drugs of some kind – an accounting office with a cabinet full of copy paper but little else, some type of insurance underwriting office that was badly water damaged from leaks in the roof, a photography shop that was completely empty of all but the display cabinets, and a sewing machine repair shop. There weren’t any sewing machines in the shop but there were a couple of crates of material, bobbins, and thread that were likely used for testing and display purposes.

They wanted to finish salvaging in that area and then spread out for possible other finds. I wondered where all the stuff had gone that had been “officially” salvaged from around town. Mateo said that a lot of it was simply “lost in shipping.”

“Excuse me?”

Mateo nodded, “Sounds like a stupid excuse for poor tracking doesn’t it? But I think it is the plain truth. My guess is that we’ll eventually find that much of it was either destroyed or sent offshore by the international aid workers. For myself I saw an entire warehouse of goods burned when it was found to be infested with bed bugs and lice.”

It was drops of information like that that kept rippling across my brain, taking my equanimity with it. But since I had finally finished cleaning up and putting everything away I was simply too tired to worry about it any longer. Maybe it’s better that I have to work as hard as I do otherwise I’d waste much more time than necessary on things I could do nothing about.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________

Part 15-1: Company and Compost​


O how can it be that the ground does not sicken?
How can you be alive, you growths of spring?
How can you furnish health, you blood of herbs, roots, orchards, grain?
Are they not continually putting distemper’d corpses within you?
Is not every continent work’d over and over with sour dead?

--Walt Whitman



It was very hard to get going the next morning but I did it because Mateo needed breakfast and then a packed lunch so that he could go on patrol and hopefully bring back some additional salvage. After he left I noticed that I wasn’t the only one moving a little slow. It was the fifth day of their visit but it felt like they’d been here longer. They looked at me expectantly and I ran over in my head what I wanted to cover before speaking.

“You’ve seen our entire set up from garden and field to final product. You’ve seen how we use the animals as part of the system … compost, fertilizer, and the Muscovy and Mad Geese bug patrol. You’ve seen our water purification set up and how we run water through all of the sand filters before adding it to our cistern; how our drinking and cooking water is from the well on the days that we have enough battery power to run it and when not, we use water that we’ve further treated from the cistern and stored in barrels inside. You’ve seen our long-range food plans and how we preserve what comes out of the gardens, hedges, and orchards. Now I want to branch out a bit. I’ve talked with Lopez but I’ll admit to being really surprised that Base has really missed a prime resource to exploit.”

Dog, thinking he was beating me to the punch said, “Humanure. Waste processing is in a different department but from what I understand they decided to pass on the project for now because too many still get sick and contamination is a real potential problem.”

“We decided the same thing but only because of the elevated water levels we’ve had around here for the last several months,” I told him. “Though humanure is a potential resource, what I was actually referring to are wild food sources. You’ve seen how we harvest wild meat with the gator, snakes, and frogs’ legs. There’s also fresh water fish in the canals and the swamp grows some big snails for escargot if I want to go to the trouble and it keeps those little jobbers out of my garden.”

Joseph interrupted my lecture with a very audible gulp and a gagging, “Snails?! Dude, not even I get that hungry.”

I couldn’t help but smile as the other three chuckled. “Never say never Joseph. It’s nothing but an opportunity for someone to prove you wrong. Apple snails are good protein sources.” I showed him the large empty shells of the snails that we had eaten the week before they had arrived. Juliet mentioned that she’d eaten snails before when they had dinner with a friend of her parents’ that had married a French woman. Joseph turned a little green around his edges.

After the laughter died back I continued. “Let me try another tact. What is this?” I asked pointing to a glass gallon jug I had sat on one of the garden benches.

Liz and Dog kept silent giving the kids a chance. Juliet finally answered, “I know it looks like water with some weeds in it but I bet that is the tea Mom … I mean the Major … was talking about.”

“Correct,” I told her with a smile. “This is an herbal version of sun tea. It is one of my favorite blends and contains spearmint, peppermint, and lemon balm … all out of my garden. In a little while after it has a chance to finish steeping we can sit and relax with a glass.”

“Do we … I mean you strain the green stuff out of there right?” Joseph asked.

“That’s right. It doesn’t have the caffeine that traditional tea leaves have but it is still a pick me up and some herbs have certain properties that help in various situations. Some herbs have a calming effect. Some herbs encourage physical vitality. Some herbs help to stimulate the appetite or settle the stomach. Then some herbs you need to watch out for because they have a surprisingly strong laxative effect.”

The kids snickered as I expected they would, but I noticed that Dog was trying to hold back his own laughter while Liz rolled her eyes and elbowed him. She looked at me conspiratorially and said, “They never grow up.” I grinned noncommittally since Mateo could be a bit of a stick about some things, but it was the way he was raised so I just accepted it since it didn’t hurt anything.

“Several of my potted herbs have gone wild. I’ve since fenced them off but only so they aren’t constantly trampled accidentally, some have spread out beyond the boundaries I tried to set for them.” In particular I pointed out several varieties of mints as well as the borage plant that was spreading way outside of where its pot had fallen over and broken during the time the children and I were shut up in the bunker. “I also harvest edible flowers and wild greens from all over this area, say within a mile from the house but that is about as far as my travels take me these days and then only with Mateo when he needs help with some leverage on some larger pieces of wood. The problem is that it’s too much work to subsist on foraging alone – you usually spend more calories than you take in – but as a supplemental food source it can’t be beat. Foraged foods also tend to be more tightly packed with high concentrations of vitamins and minerals; you get a lot of bang for your buck.”

“How so?” asked Liz. “Are you saying we lose something when we domesticate a plant species?”

“Not exactly though I did hear something to that affect in a lecture I attended a few years ago. It’s easier to use a specific example to explain what I mean. Take a head of lettuce, say an iceberg type. A salad made of it is what most people are used to taste-wise and texture, but it is bland and mostly water. It fills you up and provides roughage, but it can get boring rather quickly … one of the reasons people use way too much dressing. But if you add dandelions, dollar weed, purslane, and violets you aren’t just adding nutrition, you are extending your domestic food source, adding color, texture and flavor, and making the meal more interesting for your taste buds and your brain. With a greater variety of forage greens you can have the same menu component several days running – a side salad – while still having something quite different each time it is served.”

Dog grinned and the kids sighed as they saw me pick up a stack of buckets and baskets. “And what are we getting up to today?”

I gave him an overly bright smile and said sweetly, “I’m so glad you asked.” Liz laughed outright. Dog rolled his eyes. Juliet snickered. And Joseph groaned good naturedly and in sotto voice added, “Juliet you sure Leah and your mom aren’t related or something? They sure know how to put a guy to work.”

I passed everyone a container and led them out of our yard. I showed them how to find the easiest to identify greens like dandelion, violet, Spanish Bayonet blooms, purslane and dollar weed, wild garlic, and cat tails. We also picked any ripe wild blackberries that we came across. Dog added his own knowledge of edible fungus and showed me how to gather spores so that I could start my own mushroom beds. By the time a couple of hours had passed we were all hungry and eager to head back. Neeno, who I had been carrying in a sling on my back, was especially in need of his lunch and a nap.

To demonstrate further that wild forage could be tasty and good for you I set up the juicer that Mateo had brought home the day before. Into it I tossed a good handful of mixed wild greens, two dried apples that had been rehydrating since breakfast, and five stalks of celery. I poured the resulting juice into condiment cups so that everyone could have a taste. Dog and Liz liked the drink but the kids found the greens a little strong. “This can always be thinned out a bit with water or juice or you can pull back on the amount of greens you add until you get used to it.”

Liz asked, “What do you do with the left over pulp?”

“The stuff from the juicer?” At her nod I said, “Depends. I’ve used it to stretch my flour for bread or tortillas. Sometimes I dump it into the pigs’ slop bucket; but if it has any alliums in it – onions or garlic or chives – I put it into the compost pile, pigs shouldn’t have alliums.”

Dog shook his head, “Now wait, growing up we had pigs and they got onions and garlic in the leftovers all the time.”

“Leftovers means you cooked them right?”

“Well … yeah. We’d give them table scraps.”

I nodded, “We don’t have too many table scraps around here and those we do I usually reuse in another recipe. So like Liz asked, I reuse stuff as much as I can so that there is less waste. But I never give the pigs uncooked onions, garlic, or any other allium … maybe I’m wrong but in 4H that is what our leader always told us. I just prefer to be safe than sorry; I found other ways to make sure they get all the nutrition they need. Frankly, as soon as it gets cold again we plan on culling some of the pigs as there are getting to be too many of them for us to feed and care for … we’ve already had to enlarge their pen twice to keep ‘em from fighting.”

Joseph asked incredulously, “Pigs fight?!”

Juliet said, “Joey pigs will bite your fingers off if they are in the mood or just hungry. When I was working on the animal farm I saw a guy get mangled up pretty bad by a boy pig … and there were some parts missing when they got him out and tried to sew him up.”

Dog said, “A male pig is a boar … and not our department so let’s get back on track.”

I sighed, “Actually Dog I have a favor to ask. Can you all … uh … entertain yourself the rest of the day? I really need to catch up on laundry and some housework.”

I’d caught him off guard but in half a moment he was grinning, “Definitely not a problem. I was wondering when we’d have the time to work on the reports and gather some local samples and now is as good a time as any.”
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Part 15-2

I was relieved. I enjoy teaching, I always have even when I was just a teen and got my volunteer hours from being a Homework Help at the library or as a VBS group leader at church. The problem lay in the fact that I still had my other time-consuming responsibilities that couldn’t be put off. I needed that afternoon off probably as badly as they did.

I was boiling some cloth diapers and praying that it wouldn’t take forever to potty train Neeno when Liz came up behind me and asked, “Mind some company? I warn you though, those diapers stink less than Dog’s socks do.”

The joke was funny but I found to my surprise she hadn’t been exaggerating. “My word!”

“I know, it’s awful,” she admitted making a face as she hurriedly dumped the offending articles into a bucket of water we dipped from the barrel I had heating. “We’re on the list for a new pair of work boots but Dog is a hard size to fit.”

“Uh … you want some suggestions?” I asked tentatively, not wanting to offend anyone.

“Are you kidding? I’ll try anything at this point.”

Relived I told her, “Get him to wash and soak his feet every night and use a pumice stone on them. Dead skin and calluses hold moisture which is a breeding ground for bacteria. Use all natural fiber socks if you can and change them a couple of times a day if necessary. You want something that is going to wick the sweat away from the feet. Set the shoes so they can dry in the sun every day so loosen the ties and spread the tongue out. For the inside of the shoe mix up some baking powder and dried sage and sprinkle it inside at night; leave it in the next day then knock it out and replace it each evening after that. You can also soak his feet in vinegar a couple of times a week for a couple of weeks; it is supposed to help kill any bacteria by raising the acidity level.”

“I’m going to try that stuff as soon as we get home,” she said enthusiastically.

We continued with what we were doing and then I asked, “If you don’t mind a personal question how did you wind up in the camp? Were you and Dog together before?”

“Wow, now that’s a story. My aunt was a school bus driver and she got drafted to drive some of the evacuation routes. I knew Dog before and we had gone out a few times but nothing serious. He worked at my uncle’s garage. He never impressed my Mom and Dad much; they said he didn’t have any ambition. That isn’t strictly true, his ambitions were just a little different from other people’s. I could have easily fallen for him but my parents … their attitude held me back. That all changed though when he was the only one to set out in the middle of one of the bombing runs to find me after the bus my aunt had been driving was hijacked. To make a long story short, while he was rescuing me his hands got badly tore up in a fight with some of the crazy people that were holding me and my aunt at gun point trying to make us drive them out of the state.” She shook her head. “He’d been warned he’d get triaged if he came after me but he did it anyway, but it meant his hands didn’t get looked at fast enough. Damp and cold really makes him hurt and he can’t put the strength into the tools like he needed to so he could work in the motor pool.”

“So that’s why he wears those fingerless gloves?”

“Partly. He also just likes the way they look,” she laughed. Then she sobered and said, “When I found out I was on the triage list too I thought my life was over. I didn’t have a lot of marketable skills. I couldn’t even work in the commissary or cafeteria because of the milk allergy. I was having a hard time earning the work credit to buy what I needed. Dog would turn up with something for me a couple of times a week and my dad finally said, ‘Oh just marry the guy already and put him out of his misery.’ It was Dog’s perseverance that got us in the Ag Department and he’s doing really well. We’re hoping to get enough experience and supplies built up so that we can take our families and start a new camp … actually a private compound … after we get through this next winter.”

Still trying to illicit information where I could I said, “I’m still not sure I understand the work credits everyone keeps mentioning.”

Laying some under things over a folding rack that she had brought with her she answered, “First off, don’t think of it like money ‘cause that isn’t what it is. Money is supposed to be backed and supported by some federal body and this isn’t. It’s just a convenience. It’s a barter unit, kind of like a paycheck but then again not. Each job will earn you so many credits per hour. The more responsibilities you have the higher the hourly rate of credits you earn. Some infractions can earn you deductions in work credits; these aren’t fines but penalties. The other thing is if you get in a hole with your work credits … lose more through infraction deductions than you are bringing in through work … you get sent to a work camp until you clear the decks. It isn’t debtors’ prison, though a few have tried to make it out to be that, but more accountability so that people are responsible and don’t start racking up penalties thinking that it won’t catch up with them.”

I told her, “Sounds like a system that could be easily abused … on both sides.”

She nodded, “Any system can be, but work credits can only be traded at the Base storehouse, and the Major punishes civilians and any personnel or staff alike when they get caught working the system. It’s just as fair as it can be made right now. Other bases and camps have their own systems; this is the one that works for us. The Major lets people “save” their work credits and buy things towards building their own camp or homestead. That’s what Dog and I … and our families … are doing.” I had a lot to think about.

The rest of the afternoon was pretty quiet until Mateo and the other men arrived. There were no relaxed smiles this time however. I thought that it had been a bust but then again they were pulling several trailers on three vehicles … one on the transport, one on a vehicle that turned out to be a water truck and another on a vehicle that was a small fuel tanker. The kids ran up to Mateo and while he was not rough with them he simply picked them both up and handed them back to me. “Take them inside Leah. We had some bad company today. We … discouraged them … but Ortiz and I don’t think they are smart enough to have learned their lesson the first time around.”

I could feel the color draining from my face; it was a warm tide rolling away revealing a cold and barren wreck. This is the nightmare thing that I hadn’t had to deal with much. It happened, continued to happen from what we’d heard, but it had been separate from the children and I; we had hidden away from it for a long time. My one run in with it – the night that I had chosen to shoot rather than watch Mrs. Trask be assaulted – wasn’t even on our property and it had been at night when no one could recognize me or trace my actions back to me.

Nydia stiffened as she realized something was wrong though I don’t think she understood what. Neeno was about to fuss because Poppy wasn’t paying him the attention he thought he deserved but I bounced him in my arms a couple of times and it distracted him as it always did. Another look at Mateo’s face and I calmed down and turned to take the children to the bunker. I didn’t run but I did hurry.

Nydia had a mutinous look on her face for a moment and then unstiffened and went into the hidden room with me. “You’re not staying,” she said at her lip all but drug the ground.

“I need to help Poppy if I can,” I told her quietly.

“You always leave,” she pouted.

“Not because I want to.” I kissed her head and she sighed like an old woman.

“You’ll come back?” she asked with heart rending fear in her eyes.

“As soon as I can Baby Doll. You know the rules. No coming out unless Poppy or I come to get you. I’m putting a snack here for you two; it’s peanut butter on celery sticks, your favorite, and you can even add raisins if you want. And here is the wind up lantern. If Neeno falls asleep just put him in the bed. OK?”

She shrugged. Nydia was young, not stupid. She’d been forced by life, circumstances … and me … to mature faster than her peers would have before this war or whatever it was that was happening to us. She knew something bad was coming. She was just angry. I would be too in her shoes. Just as soon as it seems life is getting better something comes along to pull your chair out from in under you before you have a chance to sit down.

The habits of my new life were put to good use and I had the house locked down faster than I could have explained what I was doing to someone else. I was turning to see what I could do with the containers and garden when Liz came around the corner of the house with Joseph and Juliet, looking stricken. “Dog says I …” She looked back over her shoulder and I could see the other men arming themselves and taking positions.

I looked at her and asked, “He sent you here with the kids?”

I got a disgruntled look from Joseph but Liz nodded and answered, “I … I … is there … anything …”

I looked at Joseph. “Do you know how to hit what you’re aiming at?”

Surprised at my question I had to ask again before he said, “Yes ma’am. My brother … he … you know …”

“I don’t need the details Joseph I just need to know if you can do more than point and shoot. I don’t want to hand you a gun and have you shoot yourself or anyone on our side.”

Standing straighter he said, “I know what I’m doing. I’m not as good as my brother but I’m decent.”

“Good enough. Can you handle a rifle or a shotgun?” I asked him.

He shrugged, “Either or.”

“OK, here’s a shotgun. The trigger is a little stiff so you need to mean it when you pull it. I’m going to station you on the lanai. Don’t shoot unless you must. I don’t want any more attention brought to the house than it already will.”

“Don’t worry. We get drilled with this stuff all the time on Base.”

I looked at him sharply, “And why didn’t I know this?”

He shrugged like it was no big deal. “I guess we thought you’d know. The Major is a bear about people being able to take care of themselves. All civilians are expected to take turns helping to protect the Base.”

I turned to Juliet, “And what about you?”

“Rifle. I don’t do so good close up.”

Thinking quickly I said, “OK, you’ll be upstairs at the front of the house. Same rule applies. Don’t get involved unless you have to and keep your head down.”

I turned to Liz and she took an involuntary step backwards. “I …”

Refusing to show my surprise I responded, “OK then I want you here, between the two of them. I’m going to be outside …”

“Wait! What?! No. I heard them … they want us inside and out of the way!”

“OK, calm down,” I told her in my best soothing voice. “I’m not planning on getting involved in the battle … if there is one. We’ve got seven … count them seven … trained and experienced military personnel out there with high power weapons and the gumption to use them. Mateo also has battle experience and I assume that Dog has some of some sort as well.”

“They came in scared Leah,” Liz said still jittery but at least no longer yelling.

“I didn’t see fear Liz, just concern. They’re doing their job and getting things set just in case there is trouble. And that’s what I need to do. I need to go check the garden and see if anything needs tending and protecting in case trouble does arrive. What you can do is make sure that … let’s see … here they are … get these bottles filled with water from the potable water barrel and put some GORP together from this stuff I’m putting on the table. It could be a while before we know for sure what is going to happen and no one has had dinner yet. When I come back in I’ll try and figure out something else constructive to keep us busy but for now just try and … well, not relax as I know that isn’t happening, but just channel your energy into something useful. Trust me, it’s how I kept from going crazy during all of the bombing and stuff that was going on around me when I was pregnant and alone except for Nydia.”
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Part 15-3

I went outside and started bringing in all the container plants that I could move. Joseph was there helping which made the job go quicker. Liz looked like she was starting to pull herself back together; I saw her take the plants from Joseph at the door and move them into the house. I was really surprised by Liz’s initial reaction and it must have showed though I was trying to keep it to myself.

“She’s all right Leah … she just got beat up real bad and watched her aunt get killed when they was hijacked.”

“When they were hijacked, not was,” I said automatically.

A brief smile told me that Joseph didn’t take it personally then he said, “She’s lots better than she used to be, but she still gets a little freaky at first. That’s probably why Dog sent her here instead of to the trailer.”

“Not to mention the trailer won’t exactly hold up during a battle.”

“You might be surprised. It’s been armored up, but it still isn’t some place I’d want to be if we run into some of them foreigners.”

I looked at him, “Foreigners? Like the enemy?”

“The regular army takes care of the real foreign troops. The kinds we – the refugee camps, National Guard, or the militia – run into most often are either deserters from the foreign troops or leftovers of those foreign aid workers. Most of the real immigrant people, both the legal and illegal types, try and keep to themselves ‘cause they know if they cause problems the military will burn ‘em out.” It sounded brutal but so was war.

I continued to work ‘til dusk. I went into the house and found that Liz had outdone herself; all the bread I had baked earlier in the day was sliced then and made into peanut butter sandwiches. There was also a large bowl of mixed GORP sitting on the table. Liz herself had collapsed onto the sofa and was asleep. I remember being that kind of exhausted from nervous energy and envied her ability to just let go like that. I looked at Joseph and then slid the cabinet in front of the bunker door to the side and slipped inside taking a couple of sandwiches and some fruit juice with me.

Neeno was asleep and Nydia wasn’t far from it but both jumped and nearly ran me down when they sighted the food. I cuddled each one, kissed them, and after they finished their sandwiches and laid back down I stepped back into the kitchen.

“That … is … so … cool.” It was Juliet. She’d come down to go to the bathroom before it got dark and to grab a sandwich for herself.

“Yes it is,” I replied. “But I would appreciate it if you and Joseph would keep it to yourselves.”

Joseph said rather seriously, “Not a prob. If I live to have kids I’m gonna have me a place like that to put them. They ain’t gonna grow up like me with no place to hide when the bad things happen.”

Not sure how to respond to such a heartbreaking glimpse into what his life must have been like growing up I patted both kids and then grabbed the leftovers, put them in a dark-colored, soft-sided cooler, added my last bottle of insect repellant, and tried to find where the men had secreted themselves at.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Part 15-4

I was carefully creeping along the fence line, my rifle bumping my hip as the strap slipped off my shoulder, when I spotted Mateo beckoning to me. I blended into the shadows as best I could and found not only Mateo but Sgt. Ortiz. Mateo already had a line of whelps around his collar area and gratefully dabbed some of the unscented deet on him and his clothes.

“Mi Tesoro,” he breathed into my ear before kissing me.

Sgt. Ortiz was happy to see the sandwiches and water and left Mateo and took them to share with the other men at their various positions.

Using a very soft voice that disappeared under the noise of all of the tree frogs that had started to sing, “How long will you keep this up?”

“Through the night and into tomorrow. If they haven’t struck by lunch time tomorrow we’ll run a patrol and see if we can find any sign of them.”

“And you sure you were followed?”

“Mmm,” he said around a mouthful of sandwich. “They were after the fuel most likely. They’re on motorcycles; small ones with good mufflers but that still makes them faster than travelling on foot. And they were armed. They spent a lot of ammo pursuing us. Several of them paid for their choice. Ortiz said if we hadn’t had the fuel and other supplies he would have turned on them and burned them all.”

“It’s a wonder we haven’t run into them before,” I muttered, worried about our safety once the others left.

“Must be new to the area, or passing through. They were carrying individual packs but nothing big. Ortiz said it was only a matter of time before …”

We both stopped talking at the same time. We hadn’t heard anything in particular but that was the problem. The frogs had suddenly stopped singing. Mateo was torn between sending me back to the house and having me travel unprotected through the bright moonlight to get there. I patted his arm and pointed to a path of dark that wound around the yard. I knew our yard and house as well as I know my own feet and hands. It had been a long time since I needed light to move quickly over the ground. I’d spent months only coming out at night like some blasted vampire and I hadn’t lost the hang of it.

I was half-way around and in the corner under an overgrown crepe myrtle … more tree than the bush it was originally meant to stay … when I heard a stick snap. I stopped right where I was, becoming motionless. It could have been one of the military personnel but since they would most likely not appreciate being surprised I decided to avoid it. On the other hand it was weird how they didn’t seem to know that just three poles down from where they were trying to climb over the barbed wire fence that was between our front yard and what was formerly Gerald’s side yard the wires had been cut and they could have just walked right on through rather than acquire the rip I heard in someone’s britches followed by a muffled curse … the fact that it was a muffled female curse and all the females on our side were accounted for led me to believe that I was in the exact kind of trouble that I had been trying to avoid.

I quietly slipped the rifle off my shoulder while I prayed that Mateo wouldn’t hesitate if it meant the difference between shooting a female and protecting his own life. He’d been raised to never hit a female and that kind of thinking, though honorable, could get a man killed in this day and age. There wasn’t a lot of time to think about it. The three of them were crossing right in front of me. Rather than shoot and make everything crazy I swung the rifle, with the safety still on, like a baseball bat into the face of the one in front. They were traveling in a single file. The butt of my rifle caught the first one square in the mouth and knocked him back into the other two who both went down, tripping under his unexpected weight. I brought the butt of the rifle down hard on the pile of bodies at my feet, connecting and causing pain each time. It was a quiet fight, but it was quickly ended when Mateo and Baines showed up out of the dark.

No one fired a weapon and the skirmish was over pretty fast ending permanently when Baines put a boot to all three heads hard enough that it took them out. I wasn’t shaking, not yet. Mateo pulled me into a rough hug which tilted my head backwards giving me a pretty good view of Juliet in the window. She was pointing frantically and I realized she had a perfect view from her perch. I pushed Mateo away and got his and Baines attention and then Juliet flashed five fingers on each hand twice and then pointed frantically down the street. Both men went on high alert but before I could head for the house the shooting started.

What a mess that was. In all the uproar I became separated from Mateo when he told me to get to the house and stay out of any lines of fire. I didn’t make it back to the house. Someone ran at me out of the shrubbery and grabbed me from behind. Bad idea. Bad, bad idea. I don’t like that anymore now than I had when Hank used to do it to me. Stomp, poke, scratch … they threw me from them just about as quick as they had grabbed me. They’d ripped my rifle away but that didn’t stop me from grabbing a brick from a landscape border and bringing it down on their foot dropping them to my level. Without thinking about the consequences I slammed the brick down on their head a couple of times before grabbing my rifle and theirs and scrambling away like a crab. I ended up in the gardenia bushes shaking like a blasted rabbit trying to escape from a hawk.

The gunfire was loud in the normally quiet night. Nothing was coming my direction … or the direction of the house … and I hope it stayed that way. Nothing was getting in downstairs and then I heard the distinctive “drop” of the metal door being brought down in back. I hoped that Joseph was inside and hadn’t opted to try and help outside though I realized that is likely what a boy his age and experience would feel compelled to do. Sure enough within five minutes I heard, “Psst … psst. Are you hurt Leah? Juliet saw …”

I grabbed him and pulled him into the gardenia bushes with me scaring him nearly as bad as he’d scared me. I put my hand over his mouth and then shook my finger at him. He shrugged but I could tell he wasn’t the least bit repentant. I shook my finger silently at him again but he just ignored me and looked out through the bushes while pushing the barrel of the shotgun through ready to fire if needed. I was completely out of patience with him but I put it away and mentally told myself that Dog or Ortiz could deal with him. Eventually through hand motions I convinced him to stay where he was while I crept around back to check to make sure no one was coming in from that direction.

Sure enough I spotted two people yanking and pulling at some squash and tomatoes and stuffing them in their jacket pockets. Something inside me snapped. They were taking food from my children, from my husband. They were destroying months of work, patience, and care. When they started kicking at what they couldn’t carry away, damaging things out of spite I raised the rifle I still carried and …

I’m not proud of what I did. I don’t expect soldiers are proud of taking the life of an enemy either. It was an act of war. They may not have been dropping bombs or even shooting at me or my family but what they were doing endangered us just as surely as the other actions would have.

Slowly over an hour or so the gunfire petered off. In the end it was a total route though we did suffer some injuries on our side. We had less than a third the number in our party as they did in theirs, but better weapons, better training, and greater experience made the difference.

Baines got some birdshot in his calf. Sgt. Ortiz got a bullet burn across his hand. Driver took a bullet through his shoulder but it didn’t hit anything vital. Mateo’s cheek was cut by some shrapnel. Dog got into a fist fight with one of the attackers and they beat the tar out of each other. Joseph … I nearly strangled him when I found out … lost an earlobe from a very close encounter of the bullet kind.

Lopez was matter of fact and told him, “You won’t be wearing an earring in that ear again Bro.”
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Part 15-5

The impulse to strangle came when I overheard Joseph respond, “Cool. It was always trying to get infected anyway.” I swear but it must be that the entire male species suffers from Y-Chromosome related insanity during battle. My stomping around and growling at them all for getting hurt and worrying me sick only made them snicker or puff up like a peacock.

The fight was over. No more bad guys … or bad girls … and there was nowhere for my adrenaline to go. I fussed over the men and then had to let them go do their thing once the bleeding was stopped or patched up by Lopez. The children were asleep so that was out because there was no way I was waking them up until morning. Liz was off fussing over Dog. Juliet and Joseph were checking the equipment on the trailer. That left the garden and that’s where Mateo found me trying to fix what the baddies had tried to destroy.

“Leah …” I heard him but couldn’t seem to stop what I was doing long enough to respond. “Leah?”

He took the broken plants out of my hands and pulled me up out of the dirt. “There isn’t enough light for this. Come. You need to lie down for a few minutes. The morning is soon enough to try and fix the damage.”

I’m the kind of person that is great during an emergency. I stay calm, cool, and collected. I stay focused. No histrionics from me thank you very much. But once things have calmed down and there is no place to put the excess adrenaline I start shaking. I refused to cry but I couldn’t seem to stop the shaking. Mateo held me. Part of me felt horrible … stupid and cowardly … but the greater part of me was simply too grateful that he was still there to hold me, for me to lean on. Eventually I was able to pull my control back together.

“Everyone is going to be hungry early so there isn’t any sense in trying to sleep. I’ll … I’ll make hash with some of the smoked gator and make a veggie omelet with duck eggs. All the bread … I’m sorry … it got used up last night and …” I was starting to lose my concentration again.

“Shhhhh. Mi Corazon, me Vida … it’s all right.” The dam broke and I did cry a bit. It helped more than I wanted to admit but it took a lot of my energy with it. Mateo convinced me to go be with the children for a bit and despite it all I did fall asleep.

I only woke up because I heard giggles. “Nonny snored.”

“Shhhh Nydia. You’ll wake her.”

“But Poppy,” the little girl whispered. “It was so funny. I had to roll her over before she woke Neeno up.”

A could hear laughter in the voice that said, “Shhhh. Nonny must have been very tired and …”

“And Nonny is going to die of embarrassment if anyone else heard her snore,” I moaned.

Nydia and Neeno giggled and squirmed onto either side of me. I looked up bleary eyed at Mateo and asked, “What time is it?”

Nydia answered for him, “Breakfast was hours and hours ago.”

“What?!!” I jumped up and realized that Mateo must have partially undressed me at some point because I distinctly remembered just falling across the bed fully dressed. I yanked the sheet over myself and looked daggers at him through the light of the wind up lamp.

He grinned without remorse, “You needed sleep. And now you need to eat. I’ll take the children and …”

“Beat them?” I growled only half in jest since they were both doing some sing song thing that went “It’s raining and pouring and Nonny is snoring …”

Sure enough it was raining. “Oh no. My garden.”

“Easy Love,” he said as I scrambled into clothes behind a dressing screen. “The damage wasn’t as bad as it looked in the dark. Liz was able to put most of it to rights and the rain will help keep the roots moist until they take hold again. We did lose two tomato plants – a cherry tomato and one of those stripey ones – and I pulled all the fruit and put it on the counter.”

“Seriously Mateo,” I said coming from behind the screen with as much dignity as I could under the circumstances. “What time is it?”

“Not late,” he said.

“Mateo ….”

“It is only ten-thirty. I meant for you to sleep until lunch but these two monkeys …” The kids laughed and bounded out of the bunker.

I rushed to Mateo and hugged him. “How’s your cheek? Let me see. Did you eat? Was there any more trouble? Are …?”

“Shhh. Everything is fine Leah … or … well, you know what I mean. Everything has been dealt with. Fortunately, the rain did not start until after Ortiz was able to track back the enemy’s path to their base camp. There was a brief skirmish with the three that were left behind to guard their bikes. And no, there were no children as I know you will ask. These were all older teenagers and young adults in their early twenties.”

“A gang?”

Mateo shook his head as we walked out into the kitchen. “Not a traditional one but more like a group of scavengers living off whatever they could find. Ortiz said either they hadn’t run into many homesteads so hadn’t attacked en masse like that often, or maybe they had done it so often they overestimated their own strength. Either way, they’ve been eliminated.”

“Eliminated,” I mumbled then sighed. I would have said more but I wasn’t sure there was anything that could be said. They were the ones that turned it into an us-or-them situation. They didn’t even attempt to trade, their only thought was to take. “What … what was done with … with the bodies?”

“There were too many to bury and it is too wet to burn. I suggested they find a large septic tank and dispose of them that way.”

I blanched but knew under the circumstances it was the best that could be done. “Away from here?”

“Hmm? Oh … yes. That private school … Berean Academy? … that one that is down the highway a bit. It has a large commercial sized tank and it is far enough away that we don’t have to worry about immediate ground water contamination.”

The Crew came and went through the rest of the day and I cooked using some of their supplies and some of ours … fried green tomatoes figured prominently in the evening meal … on a grill set up under the lanai since it continued to rain. Montrose came over and helped Mateo set up a radio station and showed him how to operate it and gave him call signs and symbols so he could contact the Base on a regular schedule if we wanted to or call for help if we needed to. The help wouldn’t come immediately of course but it would at least let someone know we were in need of assistance.

Liz came over shame-faced and it took a while for me to get her over it. I rolled my eyes and said, “And who was sleeping while everyone else was working this morning?”

“After last night you needed it. Dog said you were shaking like a leaf and trying not to show it.” We both congratulated the other on trying to overcome what bothered us most, not completely convinced that either one of us meant a word of it, and we went on. There was no choice, all you can ever do to move forward is to put one foot in front of the other and try to drag as little baggage along on the trip as you can.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Part 16: Tidings - 1


Wisdom is oftentimes nearer when we stoop than when we soar. -William Wordsworth


The next two days passed quickly. What we decided to classify as an “attempted raid,” though only the Good Lord knew what it should really be called, occurred on the night of the fifth day that Tag’s people were here. The sixth day was pretty much shot in clean up and recuperation. The seventh day, typically one of rest, was a day of reports and sampling and going back over diagrams and weather patterns. I answered more questions that day than I had all the others combined as Dog and the others double checked their notes.

One thing of note that happened that day was that Liz made herself a batch of almond milk and brought me the pulp and asked if I knew of anyway to use it. Actually I did, but I had to pull out my old recipe files from college to find the recipe. Using that pulp we made Almond Cinnamon “Bread” in the dehydrator.

I can’t ever say that I would have six cups of almond pulp for just Mateo, the children, and I but if I had almonds and if I had a refrigerator - both of which were on my dream list – I could save the pulp until I had enough to use. Liz had made enough for all of the cooking needs for not only the Ag Crew but Tag’s men as well so coming up with six cups of pulp was no strain and she was happy to find a use for it so that it didn’t go to waste. I had the flax seed the recipe since I had bought over fifty pounds of the stuff back when we were still relatively flush with money and had someplace to spend it. Mateo had wanted to know why I had bought one hundred and fifty pounds of flax and at the time all I could tell him was because I got a great deal on a bulk sale; stupid but true. I still had quite a bit of it left although lately I had been going through more trying to extend my wheat flour with whatever I could come up with. And before that I had been using flax to replace eggs in my baking until the geese and ducks came along.

We started by mixing the six cups of almond pulp with two cups of flaxseed meal. To that we added a cup of olive oil, a half cup of honey and a teaspoon of ground cinnamon. After that was thoroughly mixed I added two teaspoons of sea salt and a cup of seeded raisins; I learned very quickly to seed the raisins before I dried them when I started making my own. Trying to seed raisins after the grapes are dry is just about the most frustrating activity known to man in my book.

Next the “bread making” got interesting and downright messy. I had to use some of my precious plastic wrap and cover one of my dehydrator screens. I had teflex trays from my electric dehydrator but they were an awkward and wasteful fit in my homemade solar dehydrator. We pressed the dough onto the plastic wrap until it was about a quarter inch thick. I dried it that way until the worst of the stickiness was under control and then I used the plastic wrap to flip it so it could dry thoroughly on both sides. You can dry it to the crispy stage or you can leave it chewy, either way it is good and was a treat for the evening meal.

I went to bed that night both relieved and apprehensive that Tag’s people would be leaving the next day. “Does that make sense?” I asked Mateo after telling him how I felt.

“Of course it does. Do you think I am any different mi Amor? I would like them to go so that we can return to our lives and our own schedule. I am tired of seeing you wait on them, you are always so tired. No Leah … I won’t be gainsaid on this. Yes, they are very nice, but you are trying to keep up with our home while teaching them new ways to take care of theirs. It is a great deal of work for all of us to have these guests and I am glad to see it coming to an end. On the other hand … we did learn something from them and I do understand the enjoyment of having other people around and hearing news from the outside. The radio will help with that from now on … but speaking to someone in person is still superior to merely hearing something over the airwaves. And I am sure that it was nice to have adult female company. I remember my mother complaining to my sister – I was a small boy but I still remember – that when she married and moved out of the family home my mother was afraid she would have no one to talk to.”

I gave him a hug because I knew how much he struggled with sharing things from his growing up years. “I’m not your mother, I’m me. I admit it is nice having Liz and Juliet here, but I don’t have a problem with you being my only adult to converse with most of the time.” I felt rather than saw his grin in the dark of our bedroom. “If I know there will be other times to visit with people then I’m content with the way our lives are. I’m sure it is nice having other men around for you; definitely with regard to moving some of the heavier things that you’ve managed to salvage … and for added security.”

“Yes to both. On the other hand, I’ll be happy when our privacy returns. I know you consider it idiocy … and I’ll even admit that it may well be … but I am not comfortable with all of these men around you when I am not here.” I didn’t growl at him for his feelings but rather tried to see it if our positions were reversed and I have a feeling I wouldn’t like to be off working knowing that he was surrounded by unattached females.

There were definitely pros and cons to them going just like there were many to their visit in the first place. The next morning, in preparation of them heading out in the late afternoon, I was in the middle of packing some dried herbs to send to Tag when Joseph ran over with a message from Sgt. Ortiz. “Don’t panic, there’s a patrol coming in.” After a sour look he added, “Major Dunham is with them.”

“Why does that name sound familiar?” I asked while trying to remember where I’d heard it before.

He humped a disgruntled sigh and said, “He’s Major Taglione’s counterpart. He’s … he’s a … OK, he’s not horrible and I know it sounds childish ‘cause Major Tag has told us it does but he gets irritated real easy and he treats civilians like we’re just little kids or something.”

I bit the inside of my cheek finally remembering the name and the circumstances that I had heard it under. Juliet was basically complaining of the same thing to Dog after some radio communiqué. Later Dog explained to me that the Major just wasn’t happy about actual kids – anyone under eighteen – holding a civilian job, especially not one that took them outside of the secured compounds. Having been around kids in one form or another my whole life, and having been one myself less than a decade ago, I wasn’t sure I agreed with the idea that eighteen years was some magical point of adult passage but you had to pick some arbitrary number when you were dealing with rules and regs and it was the way most people probably still viewed things. All in all however, it seemed that Major Dunham was one of those men that were armor plated on the outside and a marshmallow underneath, but God forbid that anyone should ever know.

“When will they be here?” I sighed, wondering if all of the plans I had for the day needed to be rearranged yet again.

“About twenty minutes,” he told me before heading back at a run to finish packing up.

I finished with the herbs to give to Liz for her to put with the seeds and starts of other herbs and veggies I’d given her and then the children and I went inside to clean up and make sure that there was enough cool water so that everyone’s canteens could be refilled if necessary. The weather was quite warm relatively speaking and the lower than normal humidity level seemed to wick the moisture right out of you before you realized it. I sat out a couple of bottles of blackberry shrub – a thick syrup that could be added to water for flavor and rehydration – in case anyone wanted a pick me up.

I went inside to wash my face and do something with my flyaway hair and as I came back out I heard the rumble of three vehicles. The first one looked like a tricked out honest to goodness military vehicle done in some kind of jungle camouflage. The other two vehicles, one a transport and one something that looked like a cobbled together humvee, were also done in jungle camouflage. I noted it because they could have pulled off the road into the bushes and I might very well not have seen them … heard them though and they were loud in the quiet morning air.

At first glance Major Dunham is not what you would call impressive. The man is … well, not scrawny exactly, but I wouldn’t ever classify him as anything more than lean. And he was short by male standards; if he was a full 5’7” he accomplished it with the heels of his boots. But one look at his face and you knew making a comment that came anywhere near commenting on his size would be a bad idea. His face had that stiff, controlled look that men with bad tempers tend to develop when they have had to exercise restraint more than was comfortable on a regular basis.

I came up beside Mateo right as Major Dunham began talking. “You two, I presume, are Major Taglione’s pet outlanders.”

Well I can tell you it didn’t get any better from there but for some reason Mateo seemed to find the Major a source of amusement. I on the other hand was having a very difficult time remaining passively polite in the face of such obvious … obvious something. There was condescension and disdain in there but there was also real irritation, but whether it was directed at us or at Tag or just what or who I couldn’t tell. To be honest I wasn’t sure that I cared; Major Dunham was quickly falling to the bottom of my want-to-get-to-know list. And since I was real close to being simply too tired to be polite I said, “No need to spend any more time around here than necessary Major. If you are finished with putting us in our place you’ll find that we’ve courteously provided you and your people with some cool, fresh drinking water and a few munchies.” I turned to Mateo – catching a glimpse of some rather startled faces behind him while he himself was trying to keep his lips from twitching – and added, “Lunch will be ready shortly.”

I didn’t exactly stomp off but I was not singing tra-la-la as I returned to the house either. Mateo found me in the kitchen about fifteen minutes later trying to control my desire to slam the plates a little too forcefully onto the table. “Ah … mi mujer de mal genio … you are beautiful.”

“Don’t you try and schmooze me Mateo Jakob, I’m not in the mood. And just what do you mean I’m your hot-tempered woman? I was as polite as the day was long but if anyone, you included, thinks I am just going to stand there and be treated like … like … grrrrr.”

His grin was a sight to behold. “There was steam wafting from the top of your head Leah.”

“And you think that’s amusing do you?”

“So long as it is not directed at me, yes. He is … he is a man not comfortable in his skin Love.”

Flabbergasted I asked, “That … that arrogant, conceited …?!”

“Yes. If he was as confident as he wishes everyone to think he would not feel the need to … how did you put it … put others in their place. He has a difficult job and probably has to fight for the respect he gets, especially with civilians. He is the type of man that worries that showing any softness could destroy all that he has had to work so hard for. I imagine that as contemptuous as he sounded he gets on his knees in prayer to thank God above that nothing happens to your Major Tag. Can you imagine what a nightmare dealing with civilians must be for him? Especially children? Those he considers helpless?”
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Part 16 - 2

I grumbled a bit and said, “Tell him to drop the sheep dog act and teach them to defend themselves rather than assuming they’re unable to take care of themselves and maybe his job wouldn’t be so hard.”

“But then love, what would the sheep dogs of this world do for a living?”

“Humph,” I grumbled. “How on earth does Tag put up with that?”

“Probably better than you would think. She strikes me as the type of person that can give as good as they take and I suspect Major Dunham has more reason to respect her than he lets on.”

“Fine. Whatever,” I said unwilling to completely concede the point but unwilling to turn it into an argument either. “I’m just glad he will be gone soon.”

“About that …”

All I could do was turn and look at him. “No.”

“You haven’t heard anything to say no to yet,” he grinned.

“Fine. Tell me … and then I’ll say no.” He laughed outright at the look on my face and after a moment I felt myself start to grin unwillingly. “Oh, all right. Just tell me I won’t have to put up with him for long.”

It wasn’t as bad as I had worried about it being. I had very little to do with Major Dunham that day. I don’t think it was avoidance on either of our parts, we were simply busy at our own tasks. Mateo had more to do with him than I did and by the end had formed a more favorable impression.

“Mmmm, it is good to be home, it has been a long day. How was your day mi Tesoro?” he asked as he bent to wash his face and hands in the basin of wash water I had set out for him. It was early evening and just turning dark, he spent the day of showing the Major and his men where the bodies were buried – figuratively and literally. Also, there was an accounting of the equipment from the raid a few days previously … but what they didn’t know about the one we handled on our own was that we’d already stashed what we could use and hidden what we couldn’t use right now.

“Busy and … overwhelming. You look tired,” I said in concern as I sat and watched him quickly strip, wash, and then climb into the bed I had already used a warm skillet to get the dampness out of.

“Major Dunham … he is a very energetic man. I think he would even impress you. Every time I thought about it too much I could see you calling him that pink rabbit from that battery commercial and had to stop myself from laughing.”

“Honestly,” I snorted and rolled my eyes as I guided him to a position that I could massage liniment into his tired and sore back. “Are you trying to tell me he is just a cute and fluffy bunny? Well I’m not buying it. The man is cranky and crabby and cold.” I finished and massaged the remaining liniment into my own hands that were aching as well. He put a shirt on and then we both lay down. After he snuggled up behind me I felt his smile as he kissed my shoulder. The night was dark and moonless and since I couldn’t see his face I asked, “What are you smiling about?”

A quiet chuckle was followed by, “Just thinking of Major Dunham’s expression if he were to hear you describe him as a fluffy bunny.” He gave another quiet chuckle so as not to wake the children and then explained. “No. The man is certainly not ‘fluffy’ or particularly friendly but he is fair and has an aura of barely restrained energy, a deep well of it. He takes his job and his responsibilities seriously. His commitment is all consuming, very Type A. He reminds me of some of the young traders I used to work with, the ones that always seemed to be right on the edge of burn out.”

I shrugged. “I got the impression from Juliet that his wife is practically a saint. Very delicate and ladylike and works in the Chaplain’s office at the Base. Both of their kids are in the Guards since they never made it through basic training before things fell apart.”

“Both?” Leah, they have … had … five children.” Hearing this I sighed and tensed a bit trying to protect my emotions from that “had.” Mateo pulled me closer. “They lost a son … changed to KIA after he’d been listed as MIA after his unit was attacked at the Suez Canal. Their daughter was an interpreter at the UN and was at work when the bomb was detonated.”

“And … and the other one? You said they have five.”

“Their youngest. A little girl. She has Downs and is on the triage list. Apparently she has some breathing problems related to the Downs and gets respiratory infections fairly easily. It is basically accepted that at some point home care won’t be sufficient.”

“Sufficient? Oh … oh you mean … oh no.” I shuddered, the parent in me quaking in compassionate sympathy. “So now I feel churlish,” I told him.

“Don’t. Major Dunham is … let us just say that just because God has allowed him to face challenges and pain doesn’t mean it excuses his … we’ll call it his communication style. Without Major Taglione acting as a filter with the civilians things would be a mess, more like those early refugee camps than the constructive and mutually beneficial work groups that they have now.”

Tag’s name immediately brought to mind the letter that Major Dunham had handed me after a resigned sigh that bordered on a disapproving snort. I opened it after he walked away, the rigid set of his back reminding me of one of my dad’s earthy sayings … he walked like he had a corn cob stuck in an uncomfortable portion of his anatomy. Thinking of my dad distracted me so much that it took me a moment to really absorb what I was reading. When I did I had to stop and go back to the beginning and reread it … twice … before all but running to Mateo.

Leah & Mateo,

Hope this finds you and yours well. Here is your next allotment and don’t give me any guff about it. We’ve had this conversation before and it has never truer than it is turning out to be right now; the fewer people that we have to process through intake the better for us all. We need successful settlements to set an example to all of those that are currently housed in the refugee camps. We are seeing an increasing number of refugees from the north making their way into the state in an attempt to escape what is expected to be a harsh winter. Besides it is little enough as it is and just as before I cannot promise more. Infrastructure damage makes even our own supply lines catch as catch can.

Also included are supplies you are to consider as the payment for the training you two have provided. Again, no guff. While you Leah may have done it merely to be helpful, your man did it for other reasons of which I am sure you are aware of by now. I would do the same in his boots. The sooner we can re-establish some kind of constructive economy the better. It does no one any good to assume the government will care for them from cradle to grave. Self-sufficiency of her citizenry is the only way we are going to get this country back on her feet.

Regarding the supplies, the goats were Juliet’s idea from her last radio report. She stated that you were willing to part with two mating pairs of ducks and two goslings to genetically diversify our flocks here. We’ll return the favor on the next patrol but I have no definitive date for that yet. Hopefully the goats … of which we have more than we can realistically care for with our current resources … will make up for that. You’ll notice only a hundred pounds of rice and a hundred pounds of wheat in the inventory I sent. Unfortunately, between physical infrastructure damage and weather irregularities, the harvests of both have been radically reduced. Corn and oats are nearly as bad in some areas of the country but the reduced population and the fact that we are not exporting (except to Canada in exchange for oil) has offset the worst of what could be. If I know you Leah, the remaining supplies will not be difficult for you to manage and utilize even if they are strange to you.

You’ll notice that there are a couple of cases of mixed items. These are odd lots that aren’t moving or cause me too many headaches in the Civilian Exchange where people can “spend” their work credits. I’m not sure what all is in there. We finally just started tossing the ends and bits and pieces into cases and giving them out to the groups that are homesteading. A couple of groups use them as barter items or charity items, but I suggest you hold off on that until after the winter is over with.

I’ve also included a condensed report for Matt of all the publicly known targets and infrastructure damage. He’ll appreciate it in light of what he has already been told. And with that in mind, it is my duty if not my pleasure to warn you that the coming months may prove to be stressful ones as refugees are forced to utilize the Outlands and as some of the less civilized influences make their way here as well. All I can do is encourage you to prepare as best you can and to listen to the radio you now have for any news. Your gardens may be at particular risk, and you should make every effort to secure your homestead. There have also been reports of increasing incursions by foreign traffic. More bombing raids are not out of the realm of possibilities. I’ve been told that securing MacDill is a priority but I’m not sure if that is going to make things worse or better for you.

Tag

PS. The pup is from our family to yours. Our mutt had puppies and even I don’t make enough work credits to feed all those extra mouths. She’ll make a good guard dog for the kids. She isn’t particular and will eat ‘possum as easily as Alpo. Her sire is one of the dogs that guards the livestock and she looks more like him than like her dam. Figures. What on earth are we going to do with 8 puppies that are a cross between a Golden Retriever/Shepherd mix and a Kangal Dog? They are either going to be huge and gorgeous or ugly as homemade sin on Sunday.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Part 16 - 3

I laughed at her closing comment but my breath still came in short gasps for a while and my heart took even longer to settle down. It was completely unexpected on my part and both Mateo and I were shaking a bit as we unloaded it from the back of the covered transport. Joseph and Juliet helped to get it to our lanai but then they, along with Mateo, were called to answer Major Dunham’s questions. It was left up to me to deal with it all and I inventoried it as I put it away.

I picketed the four goats – two nannies, one kid, and one male – and then put the puppy on an improvised leash so that he could get used to his surroundings without having to worry about him running off. Then the children and I turned our energies to the rest of the bounty. Tag was right, a hundred pounds of wheat wouldn’t go far but it added to what we had left in our supplies and the other grains would help me to stretch it pretty far. A hundred pounds of rice would also go quick if I wasn’t frugal with it, but I still had about a hundred pounds left so that would make a total of about six five-gallon bucketfuls.

There was also a hundred pounds of oats, about half of it rolled and the rest in groats. And then a hundred pounds of whole kernel corn. I saw it and gave a prayer of thanksgiving that Mateo had insisted on buying a good quality grinder and spare parts that could be both manual and automated when we’d had the chance early on in our preparations. I’ve left it manual but if I was going to have to grind our grain on a daily basis I would need to figure out some type of power for it … possibly pedal power; even Nydia could help with that.

The other grains were a mixed lot: forty pounds of rye, twenty pounds of spelt, twenty pounds of quinoa, forty pounds of millet, forty pounds of barley, thirty pounds of buckwheat, and fifty pounds of grain sorghum. I immediately took a scoop of each grain and put it to the side to see whether I could sprout them or actually sow them and grow our own grains in the future. In addition to the whole grains there were twenty-five pounds of masa to make tortillas with, thirty pounds of grits – Mateo has finally acquired the taste for them though he resisted when we were first married – and fifteen pounds of cream of wheat cereal, what some folks call farina.

I was thrilled to see the sweeteners. There were two five-gallon buckets of piloncillo. These are basically raw sugar cones which you grate to get the amount that you need. That was probably a local product from south Florida but the other stuff pretty much blew me away and I wondered how Tag could have afforded to let us have it. There were four six-gallon buckets that were so heavy I had to use a dolly to move to the pantry. They each contained something different; honey, sorghum molasses, maple syrup, and cane syrup. I thought they were probably worth their weight in gold, or maybe more so since you could actually eat the stuff. In the current environment our stash of precious metals was all but worthless, but we still hoped that when things were rebuilt they would afford us a platform to start from. They would never replace all that we had lost but then again I was beginning to wonder if we weren’t richer now than we had been when Mateo worked in the big investment firm.

Grains and sweeteners weren’t the only types of items. There was a huge block of what turned out to be coconut oil which had to be another domestic item from south Florida and there was a small barrel of olive oil that was labeled Valenza Farms from somewhere in Ocala. There was a burlap bag of almonds and another of walnuts, neither one being something I could get locally and much appreciated because of that. There was a bushel or so of peanuts in the shell and a gallon of sunflower seeds. While I could and was growing those items in my own garden having the extra was certainly a bonus. There was another burlap bag of tamarind pods and another one that I thought was carob pods; I’d have to experiment with those two although I knew that Mateo had liked to drink tamarindo on hot days. Those were obviously from south Florida as well.

There was a fifty-pound bag of potatoes and a small bag of sweet potatoes. The sweet potatoes looked old and had eyes growing on them and a couple of the potatoes were leaning towards that same direction. I set those aside for potting. Getting old or not, nothing must be wasted. There were also mesh bags of tropical roots and tubers like yucca, malanga, boniatos, jicama, and dasheen. Those all had to come from south Florida and I was beginning to suspect that Tag had helped to set up a large production community down there, or at the very least had hooked up with one. Certainly, the raw sugar could be used as proof for that. So was the fresh tropical fruits – guava, avocado, mamey, papaya, and limes.

There were two mesh bags of onions and one of garlic which made me want to jump up and down in excitement. I could grow both but now I would have enough to expand the patches without cutting into my actual usage for food and medicinal purposes. There was two wine cases of bottled juices and ciders (some of them “sparkling”) in various blends that I suspect were from the Tennessee/North Carolina area as frankly they reminded me strongly of the stuff from roadside stands along the Blue Ridge Parkway when my parents and I went to visit one of my aunts that lived up that way. The labels were far from fancy being just plain white with black lettering that was crudely glued to the bottles. Three of the bottles even had wooden stoppers that had been sealed with wax. That gave me all sorts of ideas and I made a note to myself to find out what kind of wood could be safely used for bottle stoppers.

I nearly flipped when I saw a case of yeast and two cases of vinegar (one white and one a mix of cider and a few specialty vinegars). I seriously wondered if it had been a mistake until a small piece of paper inside the box caught my eye. It was a note from Tag – though she didn’t sign her name – and it read something to the effect that if you couldn’t help the ones you wanted to succeed the most then who could you help; that made me tear up. I was already overwhelmed and wondering how on earth that Mateo and I could ever repay it all when the rest of the note caught my eye. “No guff girl. The reports I’ve received thus far are glowing. If you insist on paying it all back then do it by sending prayers our way, I have a feeling we are going to need it.” Tag’s obvious concern about the coming months began to settle in my stomach like I’d eaten something way too spicy. They had the might of the military and a large civilian contingent that they were training. If they were still worried then what on earth would Mateo and I be able to do?

I finally got down to the boxes of miscellaneous stuff and just stood there staring down into the mess for a few moments wondering what to do with it all. There were small packages of spices and seasonings that were a brand commonly known to me in the days before everything fell apart. Badia brand products started in Miami in the 1960s and went worldwide by the 80s. They were about the only one that I bought because they were so economical and covered a broad range of seasonings and products so that I could integrate dishes from our diverse family backgrounds. There was also a ton of single serving size items that obviously came out of some type of restaurant supply inventory but we aren’t talking just ketchup and mustard - especially since they were conspicuously absent - but there were other condiments like steak sauce, soy sauce, hot sauce, Miracle Whip, squeezable cheese, dipping sauce, syrups, salad dressings, salt and pepper, honey, and I don’t know what all.

One of the “junk” boxes contained a wide assortment of inedibles like hygiene products, some of which were full-sized and a very welcome addition. Also in there were some items that I thought would have been better packaged separately such as a paper sack of powdered lime. It was just so much more than I could really take in all at once. And it wasn’t just the largesse of supplies.

The goats were cute, but I didn’t have a lot of experience with them and was hoping that the information in the books I had been reading was correct. And the puppy that was already roughly the size of a small pony seemed to take extreme delight in leaning on my legs so hard he nearly knocked me over several times. I gave the pup some of the kibble that he’d arrived with but not much because he’d already procured his own meal by catching a soft-shell turtle and chowing down. From there I went to investigate what could be made fit to house the goats. After being unable to find anything in our own yard I looked in Gerald’s yard and found what I wanted in his former shed. It was one of those big expensive things that had been custom built. It was a pretty building but that’s not what I cared about so much; the doors and windows were secure and there was plenty of ventilation.

I had thought that Mateo was asleep, or had until he mumbled in my ear, “Leah, you are thinking this to death.”

“Sorry. Why don’t you go to sleep?”

“Mmmmm,” he said in tired agreement. “I will after we settle this.”

“What’s to settle?”

“You, feeling guilty.”

“Uh …” It still amazed me that Mateo and I had become so in sync with each other. “Mateo …”

“Leah, this is not charity. Do not underestimate the value of knowledge and experience; those have always been high priced commodities. And rightfully so. We can make it without those supplies because of what we’ve done up to this point. But, because of what you’ve done we can trade your knowledge and experience to further improve our position.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” I told him emphatically.

He nodded and I felt his bristled chin against my shoulder. “We are partners. The good thing is that we can take the profit from our partnership and increase our potential income. One day I would like it so that you don’t have to work quite so hard mi Corazon. And I … let us be honest Leah … I am some years older than you and while I may be in the prime of life right now and in better shape than I have ever been in, the future could and most likely will hold something different. I would like to see that you and the children are well cared for before I am unable to perform that function.”

Startled at his reasoning I tried to turn in his arms but he held me fast. “Mateo! Don’t say things like that,” I whispered fiercely.

“It is the truth and I’ve had too many life lessons to think otherwise. Look at how we got Nydia. And look at what we’ve both been through to get to this point in our lives. It is merely commonsense to prepare for the worst while hoping for the best. I would not be responsible husband and father if I did not see to this possibility. For whatever reason God has blessed me with you and the children and as the head of this house I am accountable for doing the best I can to provide a future for you and them in case something should happen to me, even if that merely means that I age according to God’s natural order of things.”

“Fine. I earned … we earned rather … the supplies. Now can we please change the subject and go to sleep?”

“Of course mi Amor, but it doesn’t change the fact that the future is something that is a huge unknown and one we will have to face one way or the other.”

The future would have to wait. There were too many days lately that I barely had enough energy to deal with the here and now.
 

teedee

Veteran Member
It is still as good as it was the third time. I especially liked how you went deeper into the future than most other authors do. That plus the fact that I just love how you wright sums it up! Thank you dear lady!!!
 

Griz3752

Retired, practising Curmudgeon
I remember when I read this thinking the last line could have been:
The End?

Another excellent tale that could transition to "Generational".

Just an observation Ms Kathy.

I mean, when you finish the other 2 dozen odd open works you have on TB2K, finish (do you ever?) your BOL and maybe consider "retiring" from your business, maybe then.

Thanks for sharing your thoughts.
Always entertaining and educational.
 
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