299 Days: The Visitors (10 page)

Grant told Cole a story about giant octopuses – friendly ones – out in the water in front of their cabin. There weren’t any out there, but it made a good story. He told Cole about how the octopus families loved each other and took care of each other. That made Cole happy. He felt like a little octopus in a happy octopus family. He knew that his sister and parents, and grandparents, took good care of him. He appreciated it, even if he didn’t say it.

It was, once again, beautiful out. The ocean air made it slightly chilly out on the water. This was magnificent, Grant thought. Fishing with Cole. Telling stories about the octopus family.

After a while, Cole wanted to go inside. They didn’t catch any fish, but they would have the story of the octopus family forever.

Grant had forgotten how good life can be when you’re…living it. This is how people used to live, he thought. Before they slaved away at high-stress jobs to earn money that was taxed away or spent on luxuries no one needed. Suburban life in America had gotten so out of control. Both parents working extremely hard just to earn enough money for taxes and big screen TVs. What a joke. But Grant had fallen for it. Everyone had.

He realized his mind was drifting toward politics. Not today, he told himself. No, today was about the octopus family. He allowed himself one more political thought. Now that things had reset, millions of people were rediscovering things like fishing with their kids on a “work day.” No more offices. No more commutes. No more taxes. Things were tough, but there were some silver linings.

They came back into the cabin and Lisa and Manda were in a deep conversation. It sounded like it was about boys. They abruptly stopped talking when Grant came in. That’s fine, he thought. Manda needed a mom for some girl talk. That’s part of being a teenage girl. And being a mom.

Grant was so relaxed. He hadn’t been this way in…he forgot. There was that thought again: trying to remember the last time he had time off or was relaxed. That wasn’t productive. It didn’t matter. What mattered was trying to have as many mornings like this in the future. He would work to make that happen. So when he thought, “I haven’t talked to Cole about the octopus family since…” the answer would hopefully be “yesterday.” It was a goal, anyway.

No one came by the cabin all morning, which was unusual. People were always dropping by with some problem to be fixed. Someone needed a key or was dropping off some food by or picking some up. Equipment needed to be fixed or someone needed gas for a vehicle. But not this morning. Eileen and Drew must have told everyone to let the Matsons hang out alone that morning. Whatever happened, Grant was loving the peace.

The Matson family just talked the rest of the morning until it was lunch time. Cole was hungry. He was thirteen and growing. It was amazing how much a growing boy ate. Cole ate almost as much as Grant; sometimes more.

Manda pointed to Cole and said, “We’ll make lunch.” Then she pointed at Grant and Lisa and said, “You two just relax.”

“Sure,” Lisa said, surprised to hear her kids telling her that they’d be doing something around the house. The kids had been doing a lot of that lately, now that there was no more ballet or a myriad of other activities taking up their time.

Manda and Cole loved cooking together. Manda wanted to show her parents that she was independent and could do things on her own. Grant and Lisa were fine with that. They were especially fine with the couch time.

Lisa said softly to Grant, “Manda has a boyfriend.” Grant didn’t want to hear that. Well, he did. Good for her. But he was extremely protective.

“Don’t shoot him or anything,” Lisa said.

“Why? Do I have a reason to?” Grant said with a smile.

“No,” she said. Then she smiled and said, “Not yet.”

Grant sat up. “What?”

Lisa was laughing. “Just kidding, dear. I just wanted to get a reaction out of you. Boy, did that work.”

Lisa told Grant about Manda’s boyfriend. His name was Jordan. He lived on Covington Road in Pierce Point. From the description of the place, Grant realized that it was Jordan Sharpe. His dad was the one who loaned them the mopeds.

“From what I can tell, he comes from a good family,” Grant said. “I won’t shoot him, honey. I promise. Unless…”

Lisa rolled her eyes at Grant.

Right then, lunch was ready. Manda and Cole had made spaghetti. They ate that a lot, but they had a lot of it. Grant stored up eighty pounds of noodles and several cases of canned sauce. More noodles than sauce, but they served it that way. One twenty-six-ounce can of sauce for the whole family. It was fine. Grant remembered how they used to put that much sauce on one or two person’s noodles and throw the remaining sauce on the plate away. They used to waste so much food. That was over now. Another silver lining.

“So what do you want to do this afternoon?” Grant asked.

“This,” Lisa said motioning to the kids in the kitchen and her and Grant on the couch. “Hang out.”

“Hang out it is,” Grant said. They spent the rest of the afternoon talking and reconnecting. Grant was in heaven.

Around dinner time, someone knocked at the door.

The kids were instantly disappointed. They knew their day with their parents had just ended.

Grant answered the door. It was John, who had one of the handheld CBs with him. “Sorry, Grant, but they need you at the Grange. And Lisa, too. No emergency or anything.” Earlier, Eileen told John and Mary Anne that the Matsons were trying to have a family day. John felt bad for interrupting them, but they said on the CB that they needed Grant and Lisa.

Grant did not want to go to the Grange. He thought about telling John he wasn’t going.

No. You have important work to do. You will understand later.

“OK,” Grant said. He knew he had to go. Besides, he’d had such an amazingly good day that he was OK with going back to work now.

“What’s going on?” Grant asked, hoping the answer was something Lisa and the kids could hear instead of something like, “There’s a big gun fight.”

“Everyone has agreed to have the final vote on whether to do the trial,” John said. “And Lisa needs to check out some patients. Routine things, nothing life threatening.” John waved the CB around as if to say, “It’s not my idea. These guys called in and said that’s why they need you.”

“Hey,” Grant said, “a final vote is worth coming in for. I want to get this debate over with.” Lisa nodded. She understood, too. She had been amazed that she got a whole day off. She cared about her patients. But, dang, the rest of the day with the family would have been great.

Grant looked at the kids. “We understand,” Manda said. Cole nodded. “Thanks for a great day, Mommy and Daddy,” she said. Manda only said “mommy” or “daddy” like a little girl when she was showing affection to her parents. Or she wanted something.

Grant slowly got up from the couch. It was hard to get up. Not physically, but mentally. He wanted to just sit there with the family.

He wondered if he should shave before he went in. Community leaders, or whatever Grant was, shouldn’t have a few weeks’ beard. Ah, what the hell. He wasn’t going to shave. That’s how it was now.

Grant slowly walked into the master bedroom and got his pistol belt on. There. That’s more like it. It felt normal. He enjoyed not having it for a few hours, but it was back to business now. Out of habit, he grabbed his AR and kit.

Lisa got some of her medical things. “Bye, kids,” she said. “Be good while we’re gone.”

“Of course, Mommy,” Manda said with a smile. Grant looked at Lisa and mouthed, “Jordan.” Lisa laughed at how uptight Grant was about boys.

Grant and Lisa went out the door and looked for the truck to take them. There was no truck, but two mopeds.

“Cool,” Grant said. “You and I haven’t ridden these since college,” he said to Lisa. “Do you still remember how to run one?” he asked.

“Yep,” she said. She wasn’t sure she could ride one again, but she didn’t want to look like a sissy. She was a little awkward with it at first, but managed to get down the road.

There they were. Just like in college. Well, kind of. In college, they rode mopeds on beautiful sunny days like this. They also thought back to college when they planned on Grant being a judge and Lisa being a doctor. That had come true, though they assumed back then that they would have those positions under normal circumstances, not these. And they certainly had never foreseen riding around with an AR-15.

Chapter 147

Double Tall Latte

(June 5)

Professor Carol Matson was clinging to her normal life as much as possible, which meant a double tall latte from the University book store. She loved them; their smell, the warmth of the cup, the caffeine rush that would follow. She ordered one and sat out in the beautiful sunshine on the campus of the University of Washington. She held the latte with both hands like it was a gold bar. Smelling it made her relax. She felt so comfortable and at ease. She took a sip. Oh, that was good. Just like she’d remembered. She hadn’t had one in a month. Now they had lattes again at the bookstore. Well, for faculty like her. Not just anyone could get one of these lattes. She believed in equal treatment for the masses, but had to admit that if lattes were in short supply, she was glad to be one of the few who could get them.

The first week or two of the Crisis had been a little dicey with the power outages, the empty shelves, and the crime. She had pretty much stayed in her little house by the campus in Seattle when all the crime was happening. She couldn’t blame people for taking things. They were poor and had been oppressed by the system for generations. It was reparations, really, for an unjust capitalist system. That’s what everyone thought. At least, that’s what all her friends at the University were saying.

A woman who lived two houses down from Carol had been raped. That was terrible. Typical macho male behavior. Carol kept her doors locked so she would be safe. She didn’t have a gun, of course. Those were terribly dangerous. They always just went off for no reason. She’d read that in the
New York Times
. Besides, guns were illegal in Seattle under the new emergency laws. She wouldn’t be caught dead with one. Imagine what her friends would say. It was unthinkable.

Carol was so thankful for all that the government was doing for her. They were getting food to the stores and she could get plenty of it with her FCard. There was no more organic food, but at least there was food again. She’d lost a few pounds since the beginning of the Crisis, which was probably a good thing. See, she said to herself, the government is thinking of everything. We’re all healthier now.

Carol was especially thankful that the government was finally cracking down on all those rednecks. They were the terrorists who were causing all the problems. If those macho “Patriots” would just stop trying to hurt people and impose their corporate religious philosophy on everyone, things would be back to normal in no time.

She tried not to think about it—tried really hard, in fact—but there was some misunderstanding that her own brother, Grant, was one of the “terrorists.” She knew he was on the POI list, but she was sure it was a mistake. She simply refused to believe that the government was out to get her brother. Why would they? He was a harmless guy.

Besides, she kept telling herself, the POI list was just “persons of interest,” not “people wanted for crimes.” Her brother probably knew where some of the Republican politicians were hiding out and the authorities wanted to know where they were because they were probably terrorists. Her brother was just wanted for questioning. That made sense.

A little part of her, however, thought her brother might actually be working for the so-called “Patriots.” His politics were misguided, but his heart was in the right place. She kept flashing back to their childhood in Forks. She remembered how Grant would protect her from the “Ogre,” which was their dad who constantly yelled at them and sometimes hit them. She remembered how Grant, at a young age, was forced to fight. He hated doing it, but sometimes he was the only one who could stand up to men trying to hurt innocent people. If there were some innocent people down in Olympia being mistreated, Carol thought, Grant was probably trying to protect them. That might have got him in trouble, she realized. But he could explain his way out of it. He was always good at that.

Holding that warm and fabulous latte got Carol thinking about another aspect of her brother’s wayward politics: how to explain to her colleagues that her brother was a POI. She felt bad for having this selfish thought, but she had it nonetheless. She assumed the University knew about her brother. She hoped that they wouldn’t suspect her. No one from the University had talked to her about him being on the POI list and the amount on her FCard had not been cut, so she assumed she was probably OK. She confided with her friends that her brother was a POI. But, she added, it was closed-minded thinking like her brother’s that drove her from that hell hole of Forks and into an open-minded and diverse community, like the University. She was embellishing about how bad Grant’s politics were, but she felt like she needed to do that so she wasn’t suspected. Grant would understand.

Her professor friends felt sorry for her. Every family can have shame; even a very smart and progressive person like Carol can have an embarrassing family member. It wasn’t her fault. Her brother had just fallen for the lies of conservative America.