The Journal: Raging Tide: (The Journal Book 4) (32 page)

JOURNAL ENTRY: June 9

It appears that knowing Harold would be staying to
help with the community garden has revitalized everyone’s interest.
That plus the warmer temperatures. The clouds are still a dirty
gray and there’s little actual sunshine, though what there is has
warmed the soil considerably.

I’ve been enjoying my time in the garden, especially
now that a few of the early seeds have started sprouting. We’ll be
having fresh radishes next week, and soon I hope to see the
lettuces growing. How I miss my salads. I need to come up with some
way of growing lettuce throughout the winter.

~~~

“Allex,” Keith Kay said when he stopped by
again, “there is something strange going on with the lake, not that
there’s anything anyone can do about it. I thought you should know:
the water is rising.” He definitely had my attention. “Last time
Carron and I were out fishing, we made a pile of rocks at the edge,
by the new water line. The water is up now by about an inch. Maybe
that new dam you told us about is starting to work.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. We set six flat rocks at the edge, out
of the water, and then piled more on top in a pyramid. The flat
rocks are now underwater.”

“This is good news, Keith, thanks! I will be
sure to let the mayor and the colonel know.”

This really was very good news, especially
for Lake Michigan.

*

“I think we should set our own gauge to
measure the lake,” Tom said when I told them.

“I agree. That way we can keep track too,
and I think we should mark it somehow to make sure no one is moving
it as a prank,” Jim said.

We found a four foot piece of a two by four
in the big barn. Remembering how I used to measure snow out in the
woods, I drew a line at the one foot mark where we would sink it
into the rocky lake bed and then a heavy line every inch. Then I
printed a 2 at the two inch line, and a 4 and a 6 at those
lines.

“Just six inches? Why not all the way up?”
Tom said.

“I can do that. After six inches though,
there should be no doubt the water is rising. Besides, it will take
a long time for it to get that high. The lake is fed by countless
streams, creeks, and artesian wells, and refilling will be a slow
process. It’s been estimated that the retention/replacement time
would be almost two hundred years! Thankfully they won’t be trying
to completely replace the entire lake. Still, it should rise only
two and a half feet every year, or two and a half inches per month.
At that rate it will take over thirty years for Lake Superior to
regain the eighty feet lost.”

The three of us drove down to end of Eagle
Beach where the water edge was closest for access. We moved rocks
and dug a hole in the sandy bottom. Once the two by four was in
place, Jim packed it down and we piled rocks around it up to the
one foot marker I had made. On the back of the new marker I wrote
today’s date, as a reminder of when we started watching.

*

After the cocktail party we hosted for
Harold Wolfe, who had agreed to stay on, the three of us had the
rest of the gravlax for ourselves. Tonight I made more Nori rolls
for our dinner. I remembered the day I bought two dozen packages of
the dried seaweed sheets for storage, and had thought I was being
really paranoid going overboard in my buying. I’m glad I did now.
Even though these will last a while, I still need to think about
what I can replace them with. Nori rolls are one of the few ways I
truly enjoy eating rice.

Jim expertly used chopsticks to mop up the
last of the soy sauce from a tiny bowl with his remaining Nori
roll. “That was superb, Allex, and a great way to celebrate the
refilling of Lake Superior!”

“I just hope that in thirty years someone
remembers about the river,” I commented.

“What do you mean?” Tom asked.

“The St. Mary’s River was the main
regulating drain for Superior spilling over into Lake Huron, and it
was completely blocked during the earthquake in December. The
Whitefish River was a secondary outlet. If it stays dammed,
Superior will
over
fill, flooding out anyone who still lives
on the shore, like Moose Creek.”

June 12

“It took some
time, Mom, but we did find the right stove,” Jason said
excitedly.

He and Eric emerged from the big pickup
truck Eric had parked down by the doors to the walk-out
basement.

“The really tough part was getting enough
copper pipe and fittings. Too bad the gas can’t travel in PVC pipe,
we found plenty of that,” Eric said. “And yes, Mom, we made note of
where that supply is.” He grinned, knowing I would ask. They
wheeled the hand-truck carrying the new stove into the enclosed
lower deck, and then into the house.

“I’m going to have to turn the gas off at
the tank to sweat these pipes, Mom, just so you know… in case you
want to do something else,” Jason said.

“It’s such a nice day I think I’ll work in
the garden. Let me know if you need anything,” I replied. The
weather had taken a nice turn with seventy degree days and muted
sunshine. The sunshine was always muted or muddy these days.

*

As I loosened the dirt and pulled weeds,
dropping them into the waiting basket that would go to the new
compost pile, it gave me plenty of time to reflect and think. I
knew I was very concerned about the coming winter and our food
supply. I feared we would lose even more people to starvation, and
there was nothing I could do about it. The more I thought, the more
I was reminded of the Survival Creed I learned so many years ago:
“The well prepared are under no obligation to endanger their own
survival to assist those who have refused, for whatever reasons, to
provide for their own welfare.”
I tried to remember this every
time I got the urge to give away some of our food. I couldn’t feed
everyone. I couldn’t save everyone. I just couldn’t.

What
could
I do to help the people
who now lived in Moose Creek to help themselves?

I finished the weeding and cultivating
quickly, then headed down to the shore of Lake Meade. The water was
very still, reflecting the pale blue sky like a glass mirror. I
could see reflections of trees and houses around the lake in the
silent water. I followed the shore, becoming more and more
interested in the transformation of the houses. Once home to the
wealthier of Moose Creek, with multiple boats tied to expensive
docks and pristine trimmed lawns of evenly cut deep green, the long
yards were now churned up and growing vegetables. I waved to the
people working these gardens and smiled when they waved back. The
house that caught my attention though, had no one working the
ground, no toys on the porch, no bicycles leaning against the door.
And that house was next to the one I shared with Tom and Jim. No
one lived there anymore.

The closer I got to the house, the closer I
got to an idea. This vacant building, with all its huge glass
windows that faced the usually sunny lake, could be turned into a
living greenhouse that could provide food during the cold winter
months that were sure to come.

I turned the doorknob and let myself in. I
had issued this place to a woman and her husband, along with her
adult daughter and
her
husband; they had wanted to stay
together and had wanted a large garden. They had all perished in
the flu epidemic. I walked through the quiet house slowly, never
having been inside before. The floor to ceiling glass walls could
be used as passive solar heating and if we put in well-spaced
shelves there would be a great deal of growing area.

The kitchen was massive, with lots of
counter space and a large work island: a cook’s kitchen. It would
be ideal for processing and canning. The large, six burner gas
stove made my decision easy. We could turn this house into a food
processing center for the entire community to use. I could see us
holding classes for those that were unfamiliar with the art of
canning. It was a good thing Harold decided to stay, as I certainly
couldn’t do it all myself.

I wandered down to the basement level. That
it wasn’t a walk-out was a bonus. Half buried and concrete, it
would hold the temperature of the ground plus be spared the icy
winds that were sure to arrive in a few months. We could install
bins and boxes of soil for those crops that needed that storage
method like carrots and beets. I could visualize shelves of wire to
hold potatoes; hooks to hang cabbages and onions from...

This could work.

June 15

“Are you
trying to keep us busy, Mom?” Jason lamented when I told him of our
latest project.

“Is that a bad thing?” I asked. “Besides, I
think this is just as important as having a gas stove for the
winter, maybe even more. Walk with me, Jason.” Eric had stayed home
to tend his own garden, knowing that Jason would be making most of
the technical decisions anyway.

I asked Harold to meet us at the house since
this would be more his project than mine. I talked with Tom and Jim
about how Harold could earn his keep during the winter, and they
had agreed.

We entered the quiet house through the back
door. Harold was waiting for us in the kitchen. The house had an
eerie silence that I could almost taste as Jason and Harold
wandered the house on their own while I waited in the massive
kitchen.

“Nice house,” Jason said when he found me
standing by the large windows. “Tell me again what your thoughts
are.” Harold waited silently.

“The kitchen is perfect as it is. The only
drawback is the stove is new and has an electronic ignition, which
means we can light the burners manually, but not the oven. Baking
would have to be adjusted to the five hours of power time; not a
big deal. There is more than enough cabinet and counter space for
storing jars and the canners.

“These windows let in a lot of light that I
want to utilize for growing things during the winter. We’ll need
shelves for that, which is where you come in. Floor to ceiling
would be my preference, though the top shelf might be too high, so
could be for storage only. The shelves need to be well spaced so
the available sunlight will reach all the plants, and I’m thinking
no more than two feet deep. Covering all these windows will still
give us plenty of shelves, which I think should be made of wire to
allow ventilation, evaporation and more sunlight.

“The very bottom shelf can be wood for
stability and will house the earth-boxes I found in the barn. Those
are filled with water and will be quite heavy. The boxes for the
upper shelves will vary, and mostly will be shallow for growing
beans, greens, shallow rooted things. I can also see flats of
starter plants.” I turned back to them. “Harold, do you have any
thoughts or suggestions to add? This will be mostly your
project.”

“Where are we getting the equipment from?”
he asked.

“Some of it will be my private stock,
although I thought we could approach it the same way we did the
bicycles: ask everyone to check their basements and garages,” I
answered. “Especially for jars, my supply of that is very limited
and already in use.”

“And all this furniture,” Harold swept his
arm toward the couches and tables that took up space in the open
living room. “What are we going to do with it?”

“This is a four bedroom ranch. I think we
can take down some of the beds to make room for moving the
unnecessary items,” I responded. “Much will have to go anyway when
the wood burner is installed. There won’t be any other way to keep
the place warm during the winter. I’ve already arranged with Earl
to do that since it’s his unit.”

“So do you want this going all winter?”
Harold asked.

“That’s my intension, yes,” I answered.
“Only if you decide to stay and to live in this house.” He raised
his eyebrows in question. “Someone has to keep the fire going or
all the plants would freeze no matter how good the sunlight
is.”

“Shelves are no problem, Mom. I can get a
couple of guys from town to move the furniture once Harold decides
which room he wants to keep as his own. Is there anything else?”
Jason asked.

“There is the basement that I think would
make a good root cellar, though we first need to know what kind of
vegetables we’ll be storing. Regardless, we’ll need hooks to hang
things from and wire shelves for storage, maybe a couple of bins
with sand for root crops.”

June 25

Joshua had been bringing Emilee to school
for a couple of weeks now using the extra four-wheeler.It was
charming to see how he waited for her to get inside the doors
before he left for the office and his time on the ham radio. As
arranged, at three o’clock when school let out, Emi took her turn
manning the radio until someone arrived to take her home.

“I’m really glad you suggested this
arrangement, Allex,” Tom confided in me. “Joshua has an engaging
personality when he’s on the mike, and we’re getting a great deal
of information through him.”

“Anything useful?” I asked.

“Not anything pertinent to us, but it’s been
good to hear what’s going on elsewhere. There’s yet another bridge
that’s been replaced over the New Madrid crack, and traffic has
increased. Those on the east side of the fault line aren’t happy
about the extra population though.”

Joshua burst into the office with a sheet of
paper and handed it to Tom. He read it quickly and turned to
me.

“The president has died, Allex,” Tom said,
stunned. “An apparent heart attack. With the VP already missing and
presumed lost, that leaves the Speaker of the House as
president.”

“Disturbing news to say the least. Still, I
don’t see how that will affect us here,” I replied. “We are a
forgotten piece of real estate, and for the most part that’s not
such a bad thing, in my opinion.”