The Journal: Cracked Earth (17 page)

“What did you do?!” he asked, not sounding
happy. He’s had to be the doctor in town, all minor stuff of
course, and didn’t need one more patient.

“Hey, I didn’t fall on purpose and it’s only
a strain,” I reassured him.

“Let me check.” He removed the Ace bandage
and then poked at my foot and moved it around.

“Ouch! Careful there,” I said, not
appreciating him making it feel worse.

“Strain, huh? This is a sprain, Allexa, and a
bad one at that. You need to stay completely off this foot,” he
ordered.

“I promise to stay off it as much as I can,
Gray, but completely is impossible. You know that,” I said glaring
at him over my glasses, wanting him to go away. He noticed the
tanker across the street.

“Gas? I sure hope its diesel.” His comment
took me by surprise.

“Diesel? Why?”

“Well, all the county trucks run on diesel.
You know, the
plow
trucks, my EMS truck,
and
the new
fire engine. They all run on diesel. Only the older pumper runs on
regular gas,” he said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Why didn’t I know this? I had wrongly assumed
that all of the trucks took regular gas. “Well, we’ll take anything
they’ve brought us.”

Gray rewrapped my ankle, patted my knee and
went back to his own office.

I picked up a stack of gas requests that were
still sitting on my desk that I was getting ready to approve,
though I needed to ask Joe how much regular gas was left. If all
the essential vehicles took diesel, we might not have to ration so
strongly. While I contemplated this, someone came walking across
the street from Fram’s, carrying a small box. He looked vaguely
familiar, but he wasn’t a local. I turned my attention back to my
paperwork.

“I was told to ask for Anna,” I heard an
unfamiliar voice say to Joe, the zoning guy whose desk is in the
lobby.

“In there,” Joe said pointing with his thumb
toward this office.

“Are you Anna? My name is James, I’ve got a
package to deliver to someone named Allexa,” the strange voice
said. I turned in my seat at the mention of my name. Anna looked at
me, and James followed her eyes.

“It’s you!” he said.

That’s when I recognized him. The young
father in the parking lot at Mack’s grocery store!

“Oh, my God! I never thought I would see you
again to thank you!” he said, taking several long strides in my
direction. I smiled and we shook hands.

“How’s your little boy?” I asked.

“Oh, he’s doing fine. So you do remember
me?”

“Of course! Situations like that don’t happen
every day!” I said with a shrug and looked at the box in his
hands.

“You know Marie at Mack’s? She’s my cousin. I
told her that I had been assigned to make a delivery to Moose
Creek. That’s what I do, deliver gas around the U.P. Anyway, she
said she knew someone in Moose Creek that she owed a big favor, but
all she knew was your first name. To make sure I gave this to the
right person, she said that you would know what you told her.”

I reflected for a moment. “I told her to buy
a bunch of pet food before she left work, the day of the first
quake.” He smiled and handed me the heavy box. I opened it and
laughed. Marie had sent me a box of batteries! A, AA, C, D and one
9V - all of the types that I had picked up on the day of the
parking lot incident. “Tell Marie I said thank you. And I hope
she’s staying at home! I hear town is very dangerous right now,” I
said.

“Oh, she’s still working. The few grocery
stores that are still open have guards. Marie is safe,” he replied.
“I really don’t know how to thank you for what you did that day. I
still can’t believe those guys would have attacked in broad
daylight! You might have saved our lives, you know.”

“I only did what anyone else would have
done,” I said and shrugged again to ease my discomfort.

“Here’s a copy of your receipt for five
thousand gallons of diesel fuel,” he said, handing some papers to
Anna.

Diesel. How did Liz know?

After James left, and just before leaving for
the day, I gave Anna a pack of D cells for the battery lamp that
now sits proudly on her desk. In the short time I was at the
office, there was a fresh four inches of snow on my car. I went
back into the building and into Anna’s office.

“Say, if this snow keeps up you might not see
me for a few days,” I warned her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll send the plow trucks after
you,” she threatened jokingly.

* * *

Back home, I re-stoked the fire, leaving the
damper wide open. There would be no grilling tonight because I
couldn’t even
see
the grill from the back door. It’s been
years since we’ve had a blizzard like this. Don had apparently been
over after I left since the wood supply behind the stove was full
again. I really despise depending on others like this, yet I’m
grateful I had those I
could
depend on when necessary.

A half hour later the kitchen was nicely
warmed and I could finally take my coat off. I hadn’t eaten all
day, so I limped to the back pantry and selected a quart jar of
chicken soup, and a pint of mixed veggies. I added a handful of
rice and pushed the soup pot to the back of the stove to heat and
cook the rice, and made myself a cup of tea. What a day!

I sat in the rocker with my tea in hand and
briefly closed my eyes. I wasn’t asleep long when I was woken by a
knock on the door. I bolted out of the chair, my sprained ankle
causing me to stumble, spilling my tea. Had I locked that door? Was
the bar in place? A vision of Bill Harris flared in my mind and I
reached for the shotgun, fear creeping up my throat. I looked out
at a snow covered figure.

He looked up, his clear, sad blue eyes
peering through a veil of snowflakes. “You said to find you,” said
a voice with a soft North Carolina accent that kept whipping away
with the wind.

My heart lurched in my chest! John! He had
made his way to me. I tried and failed to open the sliding door. I
had left the bar in place. I yanked it free and opened the door for
him to come in. He smiled. His beard was snow packed and frozen. I
began brushing the snow off of him while he stood there.

“It’s so nice and warm in here,” he mumbled,
or sighed, I don’t know which. Still, he was here and that’s all
that mattered right now.

“Let’s get you out of those wet clothes,” I
said tugging his coat off, draping it over one of the other chairs.
He was shivering. I dropped his hat and gloves on the floor and
guided him to sit in the chair that I had just vacated. I limped
into the other room and grabbed the comforter off of the couch and
draped it around him. He shivered again as I knelt down to pull his
soggy boots off and grabbed a towel for him to wipe the snow and
wet off of his face.

“Did you
walk
all this way, John?” I
asked. It was slightly over seven miles to that house on Eagle
Beach, not really far, but too far to walk in a snowstorm.

“Yeah, I left this morning before it snowed
so heavily. It was hard walking in all that wind. I wasn’t sure I
could make it. I stopped a couple of times to rest out of the wind,
so that’s what took me so long,” he said, looking over at the
stove.

“Are you hungry? There’s some soup, would you
like some?”

With the jacket off and knit cap on the
floor, I could see how thin his face had gotten. It had only been
two weeks since I had last seen him. Why didn’t he come here
sooner?

I ladled some chicken soup into a mug and
gave it to him. He held the bowl in his hands and shivered again,
almost spilling it. I placed my hands over his to steady him. His
skin was so cold! He finished that bowl quickly. I refilled it but
knew he had to slow down. His eyes began to droop as the exhaustion
set in.

I left him there by the warm stove and began
making up the futon couch for him to sleep on.

I pulled up one of the other chairs beside
him, added more wood to the fire, and made tea for both of us. I
wanted to know what had happened at the house on Eagle Beach.

“John, where are the others?” I questioned
softly. There was anywhere from twelve to eighteen men staying at
that house on alternating shifts. Though some had left, there were
still a few remaining the last time I had visited.

“A lot of them got out early and went home,”
he explained while staring down into his tea. “You got anything
stronger than this?”

I smiled. “I might. What do you want?”

“A beer would be good.”

“You’re in luck. I’ve got two left.” I got
one from the cold pantry, popped the cap and handed it to him.

He looked at me, then the beer, and drank
half of it in one tip. He smiled. “Thank you. I’ve really missed
beer. For the last few weeks I thought I’d never have another
one.”

“Do you want the other one?” I asked after he
finished it in a second long gulp.

“No, but thanks,” he replied while briefly
closing his eyes and tipping his head back against the chair.

“You look really tired. I’ve made up the
couch for you. Would you like to rest?”

“If you don’t mind,” his soft voice was
apologetic.

I had some toiletry kits already made up, and
set one in the bathroom for him and put a towel on the sink. The
kit included a toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, a comb, razor, soap,
deodorant, shampoo.

“I’ll get you a pitcher of warm water if you
want to wash up. There’s a zip-lock bag on the sink with a few
things you might need.”

* * *

Ten minutes later he came out of the
bathroom, smiling. “Just brushing my teeth makes me feel human
again. Thank you!”

I walked up to him and put my arms around him
for a hug. He sighed and hugged me back. Another time of not
letting go. I stepped away.

“I’m really glad you’re here, John, but you
need some sleep. In the morning, I’ll fix you a big breakfast. What
would you like?”

He laughed. “Anything?”

I nodded.

“Biscuits with sausage gravy, eggs, bacon—
and coffee, real coffee!” he said wistfully.

“I’ll see what I can do.” I led him into the
other room where I had set up the futon. I turned on the battery
lamp for him and left him to sleep.

I made sure that I was up at 6:12A.M. to light my
bayberry candle and welcome in the Winter Solstice. I was very
quiet. Knowing that John was sleeping in the computer room on the
futon made me smile. I have this content feeling that everything
will be all right now.

I opened the stove to drop the ash, and
stumbled back to the warmth of my blankets.

I surfaced from my cozy cocoon of dreams an
hour later, dreams of radiating heat, only to find Tufts on my
chest pawing at the covers. I shooed him away after the requisite
scratch behind the ears and pulled my robe on again. I had left my
sweatpants on, so all I had to do was slide into my slippers and
hobble to the kitchen. I quietly set the water to boil and pulled
out the French press, put two scoops of coffee into the bottom of
the pot and filled it with boiling water to brew. I peeked around
the corner to see that John was still sleeping with the thick
blanket covering his bald head. I smiled. Snapping out of my
reverie, I brushed the last of the ashes into the lower pan, shut
the grate, and began to rebuild the fire.

John was up shortly afterward and heading for
the bathroom. I added more wood to the fire as he came back into
the kitchen. He smiled shyly.

The boiling water had effectively brewed the
coffee in the bottom of the French press, and when he appeared, I
pressed it, plunging the filter down to trap the coffee grounds.
“Are you ready for some coffee?”

“You really have coffee?” he asked in
disbelief.

“I don’t drink it much, so there was some
left over.” I know I lied. I’m so used to
not
talking about
what I have stocked up before the Event that it came natural. There
was enough coffee in storage to last John a long time. He smiled
when he took the cup from me, and sipped. Was that a tear I
saw???

“Have a seat, John.” I pulled another chair
next to the stove. “I’m betting you would really like a hot
shower.” He peered at me over his coffee cup like I was teasing him
with a pot of gold and would snatch it away when he reached for
it.

“Yeah, me too,” I said, “however, the
generator is buried in snow. We need to do some shoveling. I don’t
expect you to exert yourself without some food, so I made you some
toast and jam,” I said knowing the carbohydrates and sugar would
help him a lot. His eyes widened when I lifted the cover off the
griddle to expose three slices of nicely toasted bread.

“You’re limping,” he said, smothering a slice
of homemade bread with my wild blueberry jam.

“I twisted my ankle a few days ago. It’s
fine, only a little sore,” I lied.

Soon after, we both had shovels in hand and
dug a path to free the generator of its snow-dome. I started it up
and plugged in. Right after I moved in here, I had Jason wire the
circuit panel to divert to a single plug if need be, for our
frequent power outages. That plug fits the 5000 watt generator and
it runs the entire house if used conservatively. My biggest concern
then and always has been water. It’s a good well, although the pump
needs electricity.

* * *

I retrieved another package from the back
storeroom and set it on the dryer in the bathroom.

“It’s kind of generic, but you might want
some clean clothes after you shower. There are sweat pants,
t-shirts and socks. I’ll get you a sweat shirt. Just put your
clothes in the washer, I’ll start it later,” I said before I left
him alone. Soon I heard the shower running and over the sound of
the rushing water, I caught a definite groan of contentment. I
don’t think he meant for me to hear.