After the Fall: Jason's Tale (9 page)

Jason awoke early the next morning with great excitement and
immediately went to his lookout position to see how his gift would be received.
Just like the other mornings, the mother came out first. She saw the ducks
hanging on the line and looked quickly around in all directions. She went back
into the house and came out a few moments later with a shotgun at the ready.
She scanned the woods at the edge of the yard directly in front of the house,
the strip of trees down slope towards the road, and the forest line uphill, to
her left beyond the orchard. After some time, seeing nothing, she called inside
and the taller girl came out and took down the ducks. They both went inside,
and a half hour later, smoke rose from the chimney.

Jason smiled and went back to his camp. He ate some smoked
venison and greens he had collected and then went to check his snares. Two of them
paid off, rewarding him with a pair of rabbits. He moved away from camp to
clean and skin them. His anticipation grew again with the thought of another
meal to give to the family.

Much later that night, Jason settled in at the edge of the
woods to watch the house. With his binoculars, he could make out someone at the
window watching for hours. Finally they disappeared from the window. Two hours
later Jason crept out to hang his gift of the rabbits on the porch. Dawn found
him napping at his observation position. This time the mother came out earlier
and she came with the shotgun at ready. Again she spent some time studying the
woods around the house and then took down the rabbits.

“So what do you do next?” he asked himself aloud. “You going
to keep sending them food? What’s your goal?” The question hung before Jason.
He shied away from it not wanting to examine his motives or address his
actions.

The snares remained empty. A second day went by. After the
third day Jason wrapped up a large portion of his smoked venison and hung it on
the porch that night, then retreated to his lookout position.

This time when the mother came out and saw the package of
venison she began shouting something towards the woods. Jason couldn’t hear
what she was saying from the ridge. With no answer coming, the woman took down
the venison and went back into the house. Jason sat back to think about the
situation.

Maybe this is getting too creepy
.
Should I
introduce myself?
The thought both excited and scared him. He kept a dialogue
going in his head throughout the day. Asking questions about his motives,
whether he should move on, the potential of the valley, his memory of that time
he didn’t help and what may have happened to that group. The answers came as
the day wore on. He was looking for shelter, a place to stay, but now, there
was something more. The unanswered question rose up again.
What do I want
out of this?
The answer was companionship—someone to help and take care of.

The thought startled him even as it came to mind. It had
been hiding in his thoughts ever since his experience with Sam and Judy. He
recognized his enjoyment in the tasks he had now taken on for this family. He
was invigorated by a new sense of purpose. He had even begun cataloging some
repairs he could see that were needed around the farmhouse and yard. It was
time to meet this family, and with that realization, came a sense of dread.
What
if they reject me?

He would not force himself on them.
Did I show I can be a
provider?
“Suck it up, tough guy. You’re more nervous than you were in the
gun fight with the gang.” He told himself.

The decision made, Jason tried to clean himself up, but
there was little prospect of helping his tangled hair and beard. Still he
washed his face, trimmed his hair as best he could with his knife and
straightened out his camp clothes before heading down to the farmhouse. He
carefully approached the house, and found a good hiding position where he could
wait. His heart was racing. He felt lightheaded.

Why am I so nervous?
The possibility of rejection
certainly loomed large, perhaps larger than it had with Sam and Judy, but he
couldn’t shake the realization that, somehow, this was more important than Sam
and Judy. This family needed his help. There was no movement so he called out to
the house.

“Hello in the house!” He shouted; and then repeated himself.

From the house, came “Who are you? Where are you?”

“I’m just one person, and I’m in the woods, across from your
front yard,” he replied. “I’m the one who’s been bringing you the food.”

The door opened and the mother came out with her shotgun
raised. She was looking in Jason’s general direction but could not pinpoint
him. She was tall, around five feet nine inches and looked to be in her late
thirties, possibly forty. She was thin and plainly dressed in shirt and jeans.
She stood confidently on the porch, her straight posture accentuating her
height. She wore her hair, light brown in shade, shoulder length, framing a
finely proportioned face with full lips, strong chin and clear eyes. Even seen
from a distance, there was an air of dignity about her. She was taking a risk
to show herself in spite of Jason’s presents to demonstrate his good
intentions. She stood poised and ready with her shotgun on the porch.

“Come out and show yourself.”

“Promise you won’t shoot?”

“No promises. So you are the one bringing the food?”

 “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Cause you looked like you needed it.”

“I am not going to keep shouting to the woods like this,
show yourself,” she said with all the authority she could muster.

“I don’t want you to shoot me.”

“I know you are armed,” she called back, “so I need to see
you.”

“How about I empty my pistol, it’s all I have on me, and
throw it out into the yard? Then I’ll come out and sit on the ground. I don’t
want to alarm you. Then will you not shoot me?” This was similar to the
difficulty he had in connecting with Sam and Judy—a sign of the times, he
thought ruefully.

“Go ahead.”

Jason pocketed the magazine, cleared the chamber and tossed
the 9mm into the yard. He took a deep breath, then stepped out from the
covering brush and walked slowly into the middle of the yard, near the pump and
sat down.

“My name is Jason.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, ignoring his
introduction.

Jason gave her a condensed narrative of his odyssey since
the EMP attack. He emphasized the growing corruption he had observed in
Hillsboro and how he thought he would be better off away from large groups of
people until this disaster sorted itself out—if it ever did.

“I’m grateful for the food, but you will have to move on, my
husband is coming home soon.” The woman declared.

“I’m sorry,” he replied, “I’ve been watching for a number of
days and I don’t think your husband has been around for some time.”

Her eyes flashed.

“Think you are so smart? How about I shoot you right now?”
she said. Her eyes flashed in anger; the shotgun now pointed at his chest. “He
is
coming back…soon.”

“No, I don’t think I’m so smart, and please don’t shoot. I
just noticed the house needs repairs and you don’t seem to have had much to
eat. That’s why I went hunting for you. I guessed your husband got caught away
when the power went out last year, and you’ve been making it on your own since
then.” He was trying to calm her down. “As I told you, I lost my wife. Her
plane crashed when the power went out. I know what you’ve experienced. Many
people have experienced separation and loss of loved ones like we have.
Everything is shut down. Our world has changed.” Her face remained inscrutable;
he couldn’t tell how she was taking this in.

Finally he added, “Could you sit down and not point your
shotgun at me? It might go off and that wouldn’t be good for me.”

 The woman’s eyes softened slightly as she digested
what Jason had said. “I’m sorry. It sounds like you have had a difficult time as
well. It’s been hard, but we have survived to this point. I still believe my
husband is coming back.” The last said with extra emphasis as if to reinforce
her conviction. As she finished she carefully sat down on the top step of the
porch, resting the shotgun in her lap, keeping it pointed at Jason. Her body
remained tense, alert, as she stared at him with a still-wary look in her eyes.

This is strange. This man shows up and he provides food
for us. When that starts getting too weird he shows himself.
Anne pondered
the situation thoughtfully, not sure what her next move could…or should be.

Her husband, Ron, was not coming back soon. She had been
bluffing. He had left last year two months before the EMP attack. Ron had
become disenchanted with their experiment in country living. Seven years ago
they had decided to live in the country; Anne came from a small town and was
enthusiastic about the plan, Ron less so. He was a salesman for a manufacturer
of industrial machine tools. The job didn’t require him to go into an office on
a regular basis. He spent much of his days traveling to small factories around
the Carolinas, showing his products and checking up on prior sales and
installations. In addition, much of his work could be done on the phone or
computer so living in the country was possible.

When they discovered this remote valley and the farm for
sale, they both became enthusiastic about the romance of an idyllic, bucolic
lifestyle. The farmhouse was old, but in good condition when they purchased it;
two stories with a porch and tin roof. It was located up from the valley floor
and provided long, peaceful vistas of the valley. They would often sit on the
porch in the evenings, just drinking in the views.

They were not farmers. They leased out their fields for hay
production, as did some of the other newer valley residents. When they moved
in, it took some time to get to know the other families in the valley. There
was a mix of multi-generational families and newer owners, like Ron and Anne,
who wanted to experience rural living.

A year before the EMP attack, Ron began showing signs of
discontent. They had been living in the valley for six years. Getting to and
from the farm had become an ever increasing irritant as Ron’s career advanced.
He was moving up in the company and worked more frequently at headquarters. He
kept telling Anne that his career was suffering and the girls were not getting
nurtured by all society had to offer. Anne argued that quality of life was most
important, not career advancement. She insisted that life was better, saner, in
the country than in a big city like Charlotte. She relished the simplicity of
life growing up and wanted that for her girls, almost as much as a college
education. Sure, they would probably not stay in the country, but Anne was also
sure, that country values would stay with them throughout their lives.

Their conversations did not progress and Ron’s position
hardened. He began to stay overnight at the office more frequently. Anne missed
him and tried to make Ron’s time at home as pleasant as possible, working hard
to reinforce what had attracted them to their experiment in country living, but
it became increasingly clear that Ron was not happy. He grew distant. A
coldness settled into their marriage, which Anne and the girls could not thaw.

The dying of their relationship was a process, not an event.
Ron became more distant and removed, even from the girls. The end was finally
marked when he called her from work and said he was accepting a promotion that required
him to relocate to the company’s Indianapolis office. With that announcement
came the statement that he was in love with another woman and was planning to
seek a divorce. There was no discussion or consultation with the family. Over
the phone he agreed to send a monthly check to support them. Anne worked in the
local school system, but her salary was not enough to sustain the family. Ron
acted as though his offer was a gallant gesture. Anne, in her shock, could not
respond.

She had clung to the slim hope that Ron would come to his
senses. That the woman would not prove to be of good character and he would
realize how rich he was with his family, but nothing had happened before the
EMP attack. After that it was too late.

When the power went out, she had not thought much about it.
That happened often in the country. Only this time it did not come back. Days
went by and there was no way of getting any information. The car didn’t work,
so she could not go to town. After a week, she and the girls visited their
neighbors to the south, but they were also in the dark. The school bus stopped
coming through the valley when the power went out, and with the car not
working, there was no way to get the girls to the regional school located near
Clifton Furnace, the nearest small town. Anne and the girls hiked into the
town, a picturesque place now catering to drive-through tourists, looking for
country-store experiences. In town she heard that the power seemed to be out
all over the state, but people didn’t know what had actually happened. The
school was closed and no vehicles worked except some older ones. Anne purchased
what food she could with the cash she had, no credit cards were being accepted,
and walked back to the farm with the girls.

The weeks passed. Their neighbors to the south of them
packed up and headed into Clifton Furnace; from there they were going to try to
get to Hillsboro, nearly a day’s drive away. Anne talked about the move with
them, but her instinct was to stay. Caution overrode any desire to relocate.
Since the power stayed out, Anne guessed it might not be better anywhere else.
The departing family gave Anne the excess food they couldn’t pack; mostly dried
and canned goods. She and the girls then hunkered down to ride out the
situation at home, hoping the power would come back soon.

Now, nearly a year later easy access to food had run out.
Anne and the girls had hiked north to the other farms in the valley. They were
struggling like her, but they were all determined to remain rather than relocate
to a town. Anne was able to collect some additional food from another neighbor
who decided to leave the valley, which helped, but by now they had run out of
most of their resources. Anne had almost reached the point of giving up and
going to town to beg for help when this stranger showed up and brought them
food to eat. But what did he want?

“I could be helpful; I’m a good hunter and I can fix
things.” Jason broke into her reverie.

Anne’s attention shifted back to the moment. His tone
sounded a little desperate.
So, he wants to stay here…with us
. Her mind
froze at the thought. She needed help, but it seemed reckless, dangerous to
accept help from a stranger. There had been no violence in the valley, but how
could she invite a complete stranger into her household? She understood that
she and the girls were not doing well and she saw no relief on the horizon.
Help was needed; but from a stranger?

Anne’s options were limited. Reject this offer and the
family would have to make the trek to Clifton Forge or even Hillsboro to find
help. She suppressed a shudder at the thought of bringing her daughters into
such an uncertain situation. Or she could accept this offer and open her family
to some possible danger from this stranger. He seemed polite and well mannered,
but still, she knew nothing about him.

Anne made Jason recite his story again, looking for clues to
evaluate him. Was his story consistent? If it wasn’t, then she could assume it
was a fabrication. If it was consistent, what did it tell her about this man’s
character? She needed time to consider her position and alternatives. This
morning she had resigned herself to becoming a refugee. Now there was the
possibility of remaining here in the valley until the power came back on. But
with that option came the acceptance of a stranger into the lives of her and
her daughters. As Jason recounted his tale, Anne listened and pondered her
choice. It was in her nature to be direct. She did not like subtle
gamesmanship, so after Jason finished, she went right to the heart of her
concern.

“I’m sure you can help…” she paused, looking straight at him
with piercing eyes, “but what do you want?” Her question hung in the air
between them and now that she voiced the question, she was suddenly afraid of
the answer she might get.