The Switch (15 page)

Chapter 25

Thanksgiving Day was
celebrated a few days early so the two turkeys would be fresh when cooked. The
turkeys were deep fried using a large pot over the open grill pit John and
David had built near the rear of John and Sue’s house.

The turkeys were ready to eat
late in the afternoon. They set up four picnic tables under the shade of the
large trees in the yard and spread out a variety of vegetables and fruits. The
highlight of the meal other than the turkeys was the homemade bread that Renee had
prepared in a rock oven David had built using rocks collected from the lake’s
shoreline two weeks earlier.

The food was obtained during
the previous trips searching through the many vacant houses. They collected
every box and can of food along with cooking oil, sugar, and flour they could
find. In the basement of one of their former neighbors who lived in the last
house at the end of the driveway they had found hundreds of cans of soup,
carrots, beets, beans, ravioli, fruit and cartons of various sodas.

John knew that the owners of
that house, the Millers, had left for a trip to Texas a week before the power
failure and had never returned. The Millers were in their mid to late sixties
so he was doubtful they would be returning so he had no reservations about
taking the food.

On one trip through vacant
houses Lynn and Renee found dozens of bags and jars containing seeds that could
be planted the next spring. In the yard of that house they found a large
overgrown and weedy garden ready to be harvested.

As they celebrated the day everyone
was in a happy mood.  As life was settling into a relaxed routine. The old
everyday stresses were gone. There were no bills to pay. There was no schedules
to meet. Everyone seemed to be satisfied with the direction of their lives.

John thought that even though
they would not be able to watch any football games on television, this was
going to be the best holiday ever.

As they ate, the conversation
was focused mainly on the upcoming winter and the needed preparations. But
somewhere in the middle of the weather predictions David held up his glass of
tea and proposed a toast.

“Here is to all those who do
not have it so nice”

There was a moment of silence
as they sipped their drinks.

John said, “We have to be
thankful about all we have. This is a good time to think about what has
happened to others.”

He looked around all three of
the tables.

“When I was in Chicago, I was
at the airport when the power failed. Planes fell from the sky, many people
died at that instant. I was only a few minutes from being on a plane myself. I
wonder what has happened to the relatives of all those who died at that
instant. How many people are sitting right now, wondering if their loved ones
will ever come home? They don’t know what happened to their friends and
relatives.”

He took a short drink from
his glass.

“One of the men I worked
with, Steve, was with me at the airport. When the power failed we talked about
what we should do. We were only guessing how long the power might be out. We
walked for miles, mostly in the dark to find a Sears store. When we jumped over
a fence, Steve got a deep cut on his leg. I had to leave him in the Sears store
because he was not able to walk or ride a bike. He has a family on the West
Coast. Even if his wound had healed, he might still not be home. Every day I
ask myself what happened to Steve and his family. I am sure all of us have a
few bad thoughts.”

He held up his glass. “This
is to Steve and his family.”

Renee stood up. “I sometimes
think about the families of those kids by the mall in Nashville. That was a
horrible situation. I just don’t understand what they were trying to do.  I
have had dreams about the looks on their faces as they charged towards us. They
must have been on drugs.”

Lynn stood when Renee sat
down. “As far as I am concerned, they got what they deserved. Under these
circumstances we have to protect ourselves. Think about how helpless the
preacher and his family were. I wonder if they made it to Atlanta.”

Megan remained seated but
said, “Before I go to bed, I pray for the old man that was in the car with the
dog. I wonder if he was taking the dog to his grandkids as a present.” Tears
came to her eyes as she finished her thoughts.

Then Cameron spoke. “What
would happen to any people that were on a ship in the ocean? What would they
do? Would they just drift around until they starved?”

David answered the boy’s
question. “That might be the worst place in the world to be stuck. There would
be hundreds of people on a big ship. Think about how they might fight for food
and water. They could do nothing but sit and wait to die. There would be a
chance they could drift to an island or something. But if they were in the
middle of the ocean, that would be awful.”

John stayed seated. “All
things considered, we really should be thankful. Think about people who were on
fishing or hunting trips in the wilds of Canada or Alaska when the power
failed. Many would have been flown into a remote lake, to be picked up in a
week or two.  Those people would not even know the power had failed. All they
would know is no one ever came to pick them up.  How would you like to face an
Alaskan winter with no winter clothing, no food, and only a tent or
non-insulated cabin?

Now it was Sue’s turn.  “What
has happened to all of the people in hospitals and nursing homes? If no one
stayed around to help them, they would all die.”

David spoke again. “Here in
Alabama the winter should be mild. So far we have had plenty of food and water.
There are millions of people in the large cities around the world who won’t
live to see spring. Many will starve or freeze to death. Many will be murdered
by their neighbors. The combination of lack of heat and food along with no
police protection, will add up to chaos in the coming months.”

Cameron added that maybe the
people were eating rats. 

No one eats rats, added
Megan.

If you got hungry enough you
would eat a rat too, he countered.

Enough on the rats demanded
Renee.

David continued, “We should
be thankful on this Thanksgiving Day that we are here together. We are safe,
warm, and have all we need. We should be able to feed and protect each other
for a long time to come. We are better off than most. I for one am happier now
than ever before.”

Chapter 26

He finally gave up beating on
the door and collapsed on the step. He leaned back against the door and cried
like a baby. He was tired and depressed. He did not want to think about going
back to Portland; he wanted his family now.

He lay there on the step for
a long time, until he fell asleep. When he awoke he stood up, and full of anger
he rammed his shoulder into the door. The door broke from its hinges and fell
to the kitchen floor.

His beating on the door had
attracted the attention of an old man living next door. The old man was
watching as Steve lay on the step. The old man whispered to his wife, “Get my
shot gun, that man is crazy!”

When Steve stood up and
smashed through the door the old man was walking across his lawn loading the
shells into the gun.

Steve walked into the kitchen
table and looked for a note from his wife. There was no envelope or note there.
He frantically searched the entire house for any signs his family had made it
here. He found nothing.

He totally lost control of
his emotions and began breaking the house apart. He picked up a chair and threw
it through the front window. He smashed the lamps onto the floor. He pulled the
refrigerator from the wall and tipped it over onto the floor. He was so out of control
that he did not notice the old man with a shot gun enter the kitchen through
the broken door.

The man stood only a few feet
away from Steve with the gun pointed at him. Steve turned to kick the kitchen
table when the man squeezed the trigger. The last thing Steve saw was the flash
of the shot into his face.

Chapter 27

A few days before Christmas a
man on a horse rode down the gravel road towards the houses along the edge of
the lake. He was a small man of about sixty. He rode as if he had no place to
go, as if he was just out for an easy ride. He was met at the head of the
driveway by Cameron and Megan. Cameron was holding his air rifle in his folded
arms, as if he was protecting the home site.

The man stopped his horse
beside the kids and leaned low over the side of the horse’s neck. He asked, “Are
you the sheriff here?”

Cameron smiled and said “No
sir, who are you?”

“I am the mailman. Are your
parents around?”

“Yes, they are cleaning up
the garden,” he pointed down the hill.”

The mailman tipped his hat in
the direction of Megan. “Thank ya.” He turned his horse down the hill towards
the garden. When John and Sue saw him coming across the yard he raised his hand
to wave.

The man on the horse was
Terry Irhard. He had worked for the local Post Office for over thirty years.
John and Sue had both talked to him many times in the small Arley Post Office,
but did not know him well. He brought news that the Post Office would be
accepting outgoing mail if it was brought to the Arley office. Mail coming in
from other locations to local residents could be picked up at the office only on
Saturdays between seven A.M. and noon.

Irhard went on to say that
for now postage was free but they were only accepting letters, no packages
could be mailed. The mail service had just started moving about a month ago. He
had been contacting as many residents as he could, spreading the news and
regulations. He said that mail was coming in only once a week from Jasper, and
so far there was not much arriving. Word from those carrying the mail between
Jasper and Arley was that Birmingham and Atlanta had suffered serious civil
disorder. The Post Offices there were operating, but safety of the couriers was
such a problem that not much mail was getting into or out of those cities.

He stayed and talked for
nearly an hour. The best news he brought was that on the first Saturday of
every month people were gathering at the old airport in Jasper to trade goods
and services. He said a person could trade anything from livestock to
furniture. He had been there last month and that is where he had traded two
guns and a sheep for the horse he was riding. He said he had even bought a loaf
of bread.

“Before turning his horse to
leave he took a long slow look around. He saw the water tank built high on the
side of the house and the stone fire pit and the boats at the dock.

“You have a nice set up here.
It looks like you folks are doing a lot better than most.”

During the next two weeks,
the family collected everything they thought they might be able to trade and
loaded it into the wagon.

But when they finished
loading the wagon, it was obvious that there was not enough room for everyone
in the family to go too. A decision had to be made who was going to stay home
or who would have to ride one of the bikes.

John saw disappointment on
several faces so he suggested that he stay behind to protect the homes. David followed
his lead and said he would be happy to ride his bike which left enough room on
the wagon if some did not mind sitting on top of some of the trade items.

They left at dawn on the
first Saturday of January. The weather was cold that early in the morning so everyone
wore jackets, hats and gloves. The kids wrapped themselves in blankets pulled
up over their heads.  

The wagon was out of sight
only a few minutes, when John had on his hunting clothing and heading for the
pear trees at the edge of the woods with his bow and tree stand.

John had seen a large buck in
the area all summer and had seen the buck searching under the tree for any
remaining pears twice in the past several days. He knew of a well-used trail
leading from the pines to the open field and the pear trees. He walked along a
fence at the edge of the field and found deer hair on the barbed wire where the
trail met the fence.

He attached his tree stand to
a medium sized hickory less than twenty yards from the trail and fence and
climbed as quietly as possible to about twenty feet. He sat with the rising sun
at his back watching the trail and as usual, soon fell asleep.

His chin was resting on his
chest when he was awakened by the familiar sound of crunching leaves. He opened
his eyes but did not move. He listed to the crunch, crunch, crunch, of the
leaves and knew the noise was being made by moving deer. He slowly rotated his
head in that direction and saw a large doe and two smaller deer standing at the
fence looking into the open field. The big doe stood motionless as she watched
the field for signs of danger. She turned and looked back into the woods behind
her which is exactly what he wanted to see. His many years of bow hunting had
taught him that bucks often followed behind does moving to feeding areas.

The three deer jumped the
fence and walked to the nearest pear tree. John watched the deer search the
ground under the tree for fallen fruit while listening for more crunching of
leaves from the trees. A few minutes later he caught a glimpse of movement to
his left. He turned his head slowly back that direction and saw the big buck
moving along the trail. He sat motionless but his breathing heavily and his
heart was pounding in his chest.

The buck’s antlers were tall
but narrow. He strained to count the antler points. There were ten, no twelve
points.

The buck walked slowly along
the far edge of the trail in the direction of the other deer. When it stepped
behind a large pine tree John slowly put his left hand onto his bow, which was
hanging on the side of the tree stand.  He slowly stood up and raised the bow to
his shooting position. The buck eased further along the trail, stopped again, raised
his nose to the air and flared his lips. The buck was in rut and was smelling for
a receptive doe. It rounded a dead log and stood where the trail crossed the
fence looking towards the does.

John pulled back on the bow
string preparing for the shot. He placed his sight pin low on the deer, just
behind its shoulder. The buck was less than twenty yards away, it was going to
be an easy shot.

He stood rock solid aiming at
the buck until his arms tired. He did not shoot. Instead quietly lowered the
bow. There was a smile on his face. He knew he could kill the buck but the
animal was so majestic he did not want to see it die. He had seen the deer so
many times during the summer and had watched him eat acorns for nearly an hour
earlier in the fall.  He almost considered the deer a friend.

Other than the need for meat,
John enjoyed the scouting for deer, and getting himself into perfect position
for a shot, more than the kill. 

He would love to have the
bucks rack over his fireplace, but he did not want to end this deer’s life. He
rationalized to himself that there were no taxidermists available to mount the
head and the buck would be too tough to eat anyhow. Smaller and younger deer
were always more tender.

He lowered himself back onto
the tree stand’s cloth seat and continued to watch the deer until it turned and
disappeared back into the woods.

After all of the deer had
finished feeding and were gone from sight he climbed down the tree and headed home.
As he walked along the gravel road the only noise was the sound of the gravel
of the road under his boots. He thought back to past days on the lake and the
noise that was usually present. He hoped he would never lose his appreciation
for the lack of noise from boats, jet skis, mowers and tractors. The silence
was heavenly.