The Journal: Cracked Earth (20 page)

I explained to John that “Buddy” is the
nickname for Carl McCoy. He and his wife Patty own the local bar,
The One-Eyed Jack. Not many people in Moose Creek like Buddy, but
The Jack is the only bar, so he is at best tolerated, but still a
creep, nonetheless.

After dinner, Kathy helped me divide up the
leftover ham three ways, but I insisted she and Jason split the
rice pilaf and the rolls. I could always make more. It was one of
the things I had planned for. By having a wood burning cook-stove,
I had a capability to bake whenever I needed, provided the flour
held out.

“Bob,” I interjected into a conversation he
was having with Jason about plumbing. “Would you like an
after-dinner scotch? Kathy, how about you?” Bob’s eyes lit up and
so did John’s. I didn’t know John was a scotch drinker. I would
have offered him some sooner. These touches of normal habits are
what I’ve prepped for.

“Well, I see I said the right thing,” I
laughed. “John, would you get some glasses down from that shelf,
please?” I pointed to the rack where the wine glasses hung. On the
shelf above it was a variety of drink glasses. I hobbled into the
back pantry and retrieved a bottle of scotch, rum and schnapps.

Jason got the bag of ice cubes off the deck
for us, and Kathy, Bob and John bonded over Famous Grouse on the
rocks. Jason opted for the Captain Morgan’s Private Stock spiced
rum, while Mandy and I sipped a shot of peppermint schnapps.

It was a good time to ask Bob and Kathy about
Al and Mary, our other friends.

“Oh, I thought you knew,” Kathy said. “They
went downstate to stay with their boys in Traverse City when this
all began.” Good, that was one less couple I had to worry
about.

With the generator still running I did the
dishes instead of waiting for morning. Then I found out why Jason
wanted to stay one more night

“Mom, do you mind if we all take showers?”
Jason asked while he helped me dry the dishes. My gas water heater
stays hot on a minimal amount of propane, which still flows without
power, where his electric water heater didn’t work at all.

While Amanda was taking her shower, Jason
came to me for a favor.

“May I have five gallons of gas before we
leave in the morning? Amanda barely got back home and I had to
siphon some from my truck to get us here.” He knew I had a drum of
gas in storage.

“Absolutely. Do you want a couple more cases
of noodles for Jacob, too?”

“Thank you,” he hugged me tight. “One will be
fine for now.”

The next morning I fixed a big breakfast, hoping it
would last until supper. While Amanda collected their belongings
and Jacob’s toys, Jason put some gas in their car, then filled the
five gallon container he’d brought while I watched from the back
door.

About noon, they were ready to leave. Jason
mentioned that he took a little extra gas, and I knew he would.
He’s always been very with honest with me. Well, mostly. I still
wonder why he didn’t tell me about Amanda leaving.

After they left, I told John that I needed to
go to the office for an hour or two. He looked confused. He didn’t
know that I was the township emergency manager.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, that’s not necessary, but we need to
cover something before I leave,” I replied. He got a big grin.

“Not
that
,” I blushed. “You need to be
armed. What would you prefer to have an automatic or revolver?”

“Automatic.”

“Nine millimeter or twenty-two?”

“A nine.”

I got up, reached into the clock and pulled
out a gun. His eyes widened. I thumbed the safety on, ejected the
clip, ejected the chambered round and handed it to him, handgrip
first.

“Beretta 92FS, nice gun!” he exclaimed while
he pointed it at the floor, sited it down, weighed it.

“Will that do?”

“Nicely! Do you happen to have a holster for
it?”

“I’ll get one.”

“What are you carrying?” he asked when I
returned from the back room after locating the appropriate holster.
I showed him my Kel-Tec 9mm and he grinned. I slid it back into my
shoulder holster.

“I know you don’t need to be told to not let
anyone in you don’t know, but I have to say it anyway,” I shrugged.
“You’ve seen the supplies. Those are for US, John, you, me, my
family. That’s what I’ve prepped for. Your job today is to protect
all that,” I said with a grin, then kissed him. “I won’t be gone
long. I hope.”

* * *

“Where have you been?” Anna asked when I
arrived at the office. I reminded her where I lived, that nobody
plowed my road. I couldn’t get out.

“That won’t happen again. Sorry.” Anna looked
like she hadn’t slept in days. She sank into her oversized chair.
“It’s been a busy weekend. Have you driven through town yet?”

“No.”

“Someone has been trying to burn down the
town!”

“WHAT??!!”

“Shoreline Treasures was the first casualty,
and then the real estate office burned.”

I was more distressed that the real estate
office suffered. It was a great building! Originally a bank, it was
built to fit the area, a log cabin. It was beautiful with its hand
hewn beams and rustic stain. When the bank pulled out, it made its
way into several, unsuccessful businesses before settling into a
real estate office, which had maintained now for over ten years.
Shoreline Treasures was a gift shop that was closed during the
winter.

“Any suspects?” I asked, dazed.

“Since it started right after Buddy’s bash,
Ken and Karen are going over the guest list, figuring that someone
got really drunk and then got pissed off over something. Now
everyone left in the town is pissed off.”

“When did this happen?”

“Christmas Eve,” she said shaking her head.
“Of all the nights! It’s disgraceful, considering how well the town
has pulled together so far.”

“Do they have any suspects?” I asked
again.

She looked sullen and didn’t answer right
away. “Yeah. Lenny.” She took a deep breath, “It’s only a suspicion
right now. You know Lenny is a hothead.”

“I’m confident Ken and Karen will figure it
out,” I said, not entirely sure if I was convinced myself. “I need
to contact Liz. Is there someplace I can have some privacy?”

Anna left me alone in the office knowing the
importance of my call. I quickly dialed the County Emergency
Manager. The phone rang and rang, unanswered. I hung up and dialed
911. “This is Moose Creek emergency management,” I said when the
call was answered. “I’m trying to reach Liz Anderson and no one is
answering her phone.” After a pause and some clicks a male voice
answered.

“Tom White.”

“Tom, Allexa Smeth in Moose Creek. I’m trying
to reach Liz Anderson, but she’s not answering.” The line seemed to
go dead. “Tom?”

“We found Liz yesterday. County ME said it
was a heart attack.” His voice broke.

No words came to my mind.

“I’m acting EMC. Is there anything critical
that you need?” he asked, sounding overwhelmed.

“Food.”

“You and everyone else,” Tom sighed. “I’ll
see what I can do, but I can’t promise you anything.”

“Thanks. Please, send my condolences to Liz’s
family.” I hung up, stunned at the news.

* * *

“What’s wrong?” John asked when I let myself
into the house.

I struggled to get the words out. “I lost
someone today.” I broke down in sobs. John wrapped his arms around
me. I shivered despite his added body heat.

“Who?” he asked gently, wiping the tears from
my face.

“Liz Anderson, the county emergency manager.
Liz wasn’t just my boss, she was my friend.” I pulled away from
John to get a hanky from my pocket.

“What happened?” John asked. He was pressing
something into my other hand. I looked down at the golden liquid in
the glass and took a sip. Brandy.

“They believe it was a heart attack, too much
stress I imagine.” John took the glass from my hand and hugged me
again tightly. It felt so good to have someone understand my
distress. When he kissed my temple I looked up at him, wanting
more. The kisses that followed stirred something deep within me and
I forgot the stress I was under. I forgot about Liz for the moment.
And we both forgot about dinner.

* * *

“Anna, is there any way I can borrow a snow
mobile from someone?” I asked.

“For how long?”

“An hour or two, that’s all.”

“I’ll have George bring ours up,” she
offered. I wanted to get John back to Eagle Beach to collect some
more of his own things.

“Thanks, we won’t be long.”

“We?” I heard her ask while I walked out the
door.

* * *

John and I arrived back at the township hall
at the same time George was parking their new snowmobile. He went
over the controls with John, assuming that he would be driving. I
knew John had never ridden one before, though he had a motorcycle
back home in North Carolina, and could adapt quickly. John made a
slow circle, and drove around the parking lot a few times to get
the feel of the machine. I took the towing sled out of the car and
tied it to the back of the snowmobile like I’d done a hundred times
before in the woods, then I got on the back of the sled behind John
and tightly held on to his waist.

He was definitely having fun.

The roads were fairly clear, but snow packed,
which was good, since a snowmobile needs snow for the treads to
grip. When we got to the entrance to the Eagle Beach subdivision
the road changed. It hadn’t been plowed since the first snow and
was deeply drifted. I whispered to John the advice I was given
many, many years ago: if you get into deep powder,
don’t
stop
! From that point, it was close to a mile to the house that
John had shared with his co-workers. The snowmobile took the drifts
easily.

When we pulled up to the house, we sat there
for a few minutes, taking in the beauty of the Big Lake. The wind
had whipped up the shoreline, spraying the trees and the deck with
the glory of Lake Superior. Icicles dripped from the handrails
looking like shimmering Christmas ornaments. Small ice floats
appearing like a frozen wasteland crowded each other in the bay,
held motionless by the small pools of thin ice that might have been
open water yesterday. Chunks of ice, farther then eye could see,
jagged and gem-like, edged the horizon where the open water of the
deep lake undulated with massive waves that were made small by the
distance.

We let ourselves in through the garage, where
John used a hidden key to open the interior door.

He asked me to wait upstairs while he took a
big duffle bag and a flashlight and descended alone into the gloom
of his old basement room. I wandered through the kitchen. Ice
crystals had formed on the metal faucets, but all looked neat and
clean, though it was obvious that anything consumable had been
stripped from the place. The glass door commercial coolers that
once were filled with all manner of drinks for the guys was empty.
The nearby storage shelves now only held empty boxes.

After a few minutes, I called down the stairs
to John, asking if he was okay. Moments later, I could see the
bright white beam from the flashlight getting larger as he made his
way back up the stairs.

“It took a little longer than I thought it
would. Sorry if I alarmed you,” he said with a hint of sadness in
his eyes, making me wonder what else was down there. “Let’s get out
of here,” he said

* * *

At home, he dumped the bag out in the middle
of the kitchen floor. He had packed his pillow, cellphone and
charger, a couple of books and clothes: t-shirts, jeans, a sweater,
socks, underwear and two pair of shoes.

“I think all the clothes will need washing.
I’ll start the generator,” he said, appearing distracted.

I sorted his clothes and started the washer.
Then I got the last beer out and handed it to John.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” I
prodded gently. He stared at the beer a long time before taking a
large swallow.

“Those last few days that I was at the house
I slept on the couch, near the fireplace,” he said between gulps.
“I didn’t know that Henry was downstairs. He still is.”

* * *

JOURNAL ENTRY: December 28

I’m really feeling down.

After everything else, Liz is dead, someone
is trying to burn the town down, and there’s a dead body on Eagle
Beach. Not to mention I’m still waking in the middle of the night
with cold sweats from bad dreams.

With all my preps, I felt I had so much,
enough to last me forever, at least well past the next growing
season. I did have extra, but I didn’t count on so many depending
on me. Will I have enough, or will I let everyone down? The
responsibility is overwhelming.

I wonder if that’s how Liz felt?

* * *

On the morning of the 29th, I ventured into
town to find Gray so I could tell him about the body on Eagle
Beach. While at the EMS office, I ran into Marilyn Harris. I felt
guilty because only four of us knew I had shot her husband, and it
still haunted me, likely always would. She seemed happy to see
me,

“Oh, Allexa, I’m so glad to run into you!”
She hugged me and handed me a set of keys. “I didn’t know who to
give these to. I’ll need a ride back home.”

“What’s this, Marilyn?” I asked really
confused, examining the keys in my hand.

“I know that Bill had a dark side and I’m not
going to justify it. But maybe I can apologize in a small way,” she
explained. “Bill had a Passat Wagon TDI, a diesel. I want the
township to have it. Actually, I think I’d like Karen and Ken to
have it like some sort of patrol car.” Then it dawned on me: A
diesel vehicle. With the new shipment of diesel gas, this would
help a
lot
. I hoped I thanked her enough.