Second Chances (4 page)

“But someone's got to watch the perimeter. We're going to need water and materials soon. And yeah, someone has to be in charge,” John said.

“Right,” Eric said, ashamed that his wife had stepped up. She tended to do that, step in with a task he knew she couldn't handle to get him off his ass to do it. He knew it was a mental game, but he couldn't help but respond to it. At least here she'd played it right. He couldn't just shut down when things didn't work out as planned.

“Rules. That's what they are happy about, no rules,” Carlene said, wrinkling her nose in disgust in the direction of Kevin, the lead anarchist of the group.

“I can see it in a way, I mean, no taxes...” Trisha waved a hand.

“Yeah, but we've got to have some rules,” Eric said. “You know, the basics? Murder, rape, theft?”

“Some,” Trisha echoed grudgingly with a nod. She still sounded unsure though.

“Grasshopper,” John said suddenly. The others looked at him in confusion. “Sorry, an old tale. A fable I think. I remember the old toon when I was a kid. Real old. It was about a grasshopper who played his fiddle all day and lived it up.”

“Okay...” Trisha drawled.

John frowned thoughtfully. “There was a song, 'The World Owes Me a Livin,' I think or something like that.” He shook his head.

“Aesop's Fables,” Carlene murmured. The others looked at her. “I know what he's talking about now; I remember it from college. Go on,” she said, nodding to John in encouragement.

He nodded back. “Right then. Ants lived nearby; they busted their buts farming and gathering through the year. The queen berated the grasshopper for his hippy lifestyle. He was always after the workers to stop and enjoy. She warned him of winter.”

“Winter,” Trisha said, suddenly thoughtful. She looked around them.

Eric nodded. “Yeah, not what I'm happy about facing anytime soon,” he said.

“If we're lucky it's spring or late winter,” Carlene said. “Not that we can argue with Mother Nature,” she said. The others nodded.

“Anyway,” John said. She smiled to him. “Yeah, as I was saying, when winter fell the grasshopper was left out in the cold, shivering and nearly freezing to death. I think in the fable he did die. But in the toon the ants took pity on him and brought him in. They had a party, and he entertained them as the jester. He sang a song about learning his lesson.”

“Interesting,” Eric said noncommittally. They looked to the others around them.

“Yeah, hopefully they wake up before it's too late. We're going to need food. Right now we've got plenty of energy from the food we've got, the medicine, gear. But eventually it will all run out.”

Carlene snapped her fingers. “Three pigs. One built his house of straw, sticks...,” Carlene said. “A story about building right and planning for the future. We need to do that too, keep an eye on that.”

“Who's the big bad wolf?” Trisha asked.

“Are you kidding me?” Carlene asked with a chuckle, pointing to John's wolf.

“Hanuk?” John asked, looking over his shoulder. Hanuk was busy in a good shoulder roll, getting dirty and apparently loving it. “He's fine. No, for the record, the wolves are dinos and aliens out there,” he said pointing to the great outdoors beyond the walls. “We better be ready when they come huffing and puffing. A log cabin won't cut it,” he said, shaking his head.

“A tree fort like in ‘Land of the Lost’? Or a fort like ‘Terra Nova’?” Trisha asked. She frowned. “Adam and I have horses. That won't work for us,” she said.

“No, I don't think we can do either. A tree fort just puts us in handy bite zone. Pass,” Eric said, shaking his head as well. “The fort sounds good. We can work on that.”

“Electric fences. We'll need clear fields of fire,” John said. Eric nodded. “But no one is going to listen now. They are too wrapped up in their own little worlds. We need to get them settled, then get them working together as a community on the bigger picture,” he said.

“Good idea,” Eric said as the others gave John a long look. John shrugged. “I'll make the rounds. You girls talk to the other ladies, make connections.” He looked at John. “It'd help if we got the basics going though and someone set a good example.”

“I'll see what I can do,” John said. Eric nodded, eying him. John nodded back as the group broke up. He pitched in when he was asked by the horse breeders.

He helped other people with animals work out a better temporary corral for their small herd of horses and donkey. There was a goat and a couple more chickens. They parked vehicles around them and used an awning as a temporary barn. One of John's shipping containers made a nice handy wall for one part of the corral. “It's not enough,” the young woman said, shaking her head. She took her cowboy hat off and dusted her jeans off with the rim. He knew her name was Trisha Southby. He knew she was married, but he also knew she was a bit of a pain in the ass. Bossy too, which was probably why her husband had taken off to avoid the heavy labor. He liked how she fit in her jeans and shirt, but she was a strictly hands-off lady.

“Hell lady, it's a start. We'll improve it as we go. Same for everything else around here,” John said, wiping sweat from his brow. He was starting to regret volunteering to help people.

“Yeah, but what about grass and water? They'll need fodder,” she said, looking at the animals.

“We'll figure it out,” John said. “One step at a time,” he sighed, rubbing the small of his aching back. He noted her husband was giving him a dark look, so he left them to their own devices and animals.

He checked his dogs and the birds over, everything looked well. He'd bought chickens and other farm animals, but a few were missing. The hawks were okay though. He put a lock on the chicken coop. It was all he could do for now, he thought. He fed the other animals, then checked the dogs over, going through the ritual of playing and checking them to make sure each were okay. Each was staked out around the perimeter of his gear to protect it. When all were judged okay, he went to eat.

Eric introduced him to their two erstwhile guards, Bull Shannon and Ross Russle. Bull was the big guy, quiet, and apparently a vegetarian but gentle as a lamb. He was bald, white as a sheet, but with black bushy eyebrows and a long seemingly grim face.

His partner Ross was the short, black, pear-shaped woman he'd seen briefly. She had short, curly black hair, and a sometimes lively face. “You got something to say Bob the builder?” she teased to John. He shook his head.

“Well, for your information, I'm from Texas. I worked as a security guard in a bank. Bull here was in corrections in...” she turned to the big guy.

“New York,” he admitted.

“New York,” she said, turning back to John and the others. “So yeah, we know which end of a gun the bullet comes out of,” she said in a sarcastic put down.

“I wasn't quibbling about that, ma'am,” John said. “I'm glad for the help and the eyes,” he said.

She nodded grudgingly and then took Bull by the arm. “Come on Bull, let's go check that stream out. See what we need to see there.”

“Ooookaaaay,” Bull said in a drawl. “Just don't expect me to shoot anything Ross; you know what I said,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” she said patiently, almost motherly to him. “You're a vegetarian. I get that. We'll find you some nice tofu or something to chew on. Me, I'm looking forward to a nice dino steak if you don't mind,” she said. He nodded.

After lunch John went out with a group to hunt. It was late. The best time to go was early morning, but they needed to hunt to get more protein and to see what was around them. John had extensive experience hunting. He brought in a wild boar and a very large armadillo. The shell from the armadillo he used as a temporary dog house for his pack.

The dogs loved the armadillo meat. Once they were settled, John gutted the boar and fed the dogs the guts, then spitted the boar over a fire. That got the attention of Eric and others. After a couple hours, a few couldn't stand the gorgeous smells any longer and came by to be friends. John treated it like a barbeque, a welcome to the neighborhood. He handed out pieces of still steaming succulent meat to anyone who came by.

A red haired woman licked her fingers as she held the stick he'd put meat on. “Should use a cabob. It's cleaner,” she said wrinkling her nose at the stick.

“Stick was handy,” John said, grumbling mentally about people looking a gift horse in the mouth. “Besides, my skewers are packed,” he said waving a hand to his gear. “And I'm too tired to look.”

“I see,” she said nodding. “Sorry, didn't mean to be ungrateful,” she said after an awkward moment.

“No problem,” he replied, nodding to show there were no hard feelings. “Everyone's confused and upset by what happened and half are having trouble coping. Hopefully they'll settle down soon. We need to start thinking and working together if we're going to survive,” he said.

“Is it bad out there?” She asked, looking over to the dogs as they growled over the scraps of meat.

John sighed. “Bad enough, but beautiful. I hope we don't screw it up,” he said as she stared at the shell Hanuk was trying to chew on. The dog licked the inside of the shell, turning himself practically inside out to get at some pieces.

“My name is Ginger. Ginger Snadly but you can call me Ginger,” she said. “My mom named me for my hair,” she said, indicating her hair. He nodded.

“John,” he said, shaking hands with her.

“Trisha,” the other woman said, waving her free hand. “Hang on, I may have something,” she said, patting her pockets. She fumbled around and then pulled out her cell phone.

“You still carry it?” Ginger asked, amused. She shook her wavy red locks and looked at John. He shrugged.

“Why not. It's got a camera,” John said. He nodded to the curly haired Trisha.

“See, I remember seeing something familiar about that animal,” she said, indicating the Armadillo. “Yeah...”

Trisha remembered seeing the armadillo on her last family trip to a museum. She checked her cell phone's memory and found dozens of photos of various exhibits along with an app she had downloaded that explained each animal. She teared up when she found images of her toddler nephews that had been with the family. “Timmy, he loved it. All the neat dinosaurs...”

“Kids are awed by them at that age,” Ginger said.

“At any age,” she replied, smiling. “Their dad...my brother, he was all gooey about the dinosaurs. He really got into the animatronic ones,” she said, face clouding as she bit her lip. “I'm never going to see them again, am I?” she bawled, rocking as Ginger wrapped her arms around her. Ginger did her best to comfort the woman, stroking her hair and murmuring soothing things to her. But John noted her own eyes were teary.

Other people saw her crying. She sniffled as they looked away. “You shouldn't be looking at stuff like that right now if it tears you up. Put it away, save your batteries,” Pat advised her. Norma nodded as well.

John, however, came over and checked over her shoulder. He pointed out some stuff in the background. “I wish it was bigger,” he said.

“Here, I can zoom in,” Trisha said. She did so, but they still couldn't make out the details they wanted to see. They tried to pick out various things.

“Wait, I've got an idea,” Carlene said. She came back clutching her laptop to her chest. “Do you mind?” she asked, holding it out.

“Not at all. I'd appreciate a back-up,” Trisha said as she nodded and took the device.

“Me too then,” John said. The ladies looked up and then nodded. Trisha transferred the photos and app to Carlene and John's laptops and phones with a USB cable. Together they looked at the larger image. Trisha zoomed in to view the various displays of ancient survival and notes on plants and animals. John had them hit the print screen button, then save the file for later viewing.

Together they started to pick up ideas, which intrigued others to come over and listen, then join in. John patted Trisha on the shoulder as people thanked her for her information. Her husband Adam saw the pat, and his face went to stone. John realized he was jealous. John put his hands up and backed off. “You'll be okay, ma'am,” he said, nodding to Adam. The black haired male glowered slightly, but then touched his wife's back. She looked up to kiss him. When the kiss broke Adam got the message clear as day. He nodded politely again to the glowering husband as he moved off.

~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~

John heard the dogs growling and went to investigate. He found a raven haired beauty there talking softly to one of the dogs. He froze for a moment listening as she murmured reassurances. When Fergus looked to him she noticed and turned suddenly. John nodded to her. “Something I can help you with, ma'am?” he asked.

She looked up at him then away. “It's mean to chain them all the time, don't you know that? When they get loose they'll go wild,” she said.

“No, not really. They've been trained from a puppy to mind, ma'am,” he said, coming over to ruffle Fergus's ears. The husky looked up to him then laid down at his feet. “Besides, if they were loose they'd get into mischief. They love to tear stuff apart. Or they'd get out into the woods and either get killed or bring something back, most likely trouble. I don't want either of that, do you?” She stared at him for a long time then turned away. “It's still wrong,” he heard her say under her breath. He shrugged as she walked off.