Prepper Central: A Prepper Fiction Novel (Prepping - Together we will Survive Book 1) (3 page)

‘Ready,’ I turned to Marge who was too busy filing her nails to notice that we’d pulled up in my parent’s neighborhood.

‘We’re there already!’

‘Indeed.’

The neighborhood looked considerably different from the last time I was here, three months ago. Homes that used to be filled with love- evident by groomed lawns and one too many gnomes- were now empty and displayed more broken glass than a glass factory. A sense of relief hit me, knowing that my parents would soon escape the wrath that would have more than likely come knocking on their door. The Cul De Sac in which I lived hadn’t been hit by the depression quite as badly as the neighborhood where I grew up. This may have been due to the large majority of people in my area turning to prepping and thus, being aware that they needed to make amendments to their lifestyle before it was too late.

I pulled up in the driveway, and a smile extended across my face. ‘Alrighty love, let’s do this.’

Marge hopped out of the car before I’d even managed to get my door open. I could see the excitement building in her as she anticipated the lovely greeting she was in to receive. I slammed the car door behind me and clicked on my transponder key twice, just as a safety measure. Hand in hand, Marge and I walked to the door. I could see mom peeping through the curtain, her face brighter than I’d ever seen it.

‘Look at you two,’ mom gleamed, swinging the door open.

Marge was the first to have her body entangled in mom’s arms. Next up was me. First, she squeezed my cheeks, the way happy old ladies do. ‘You look great Jimmy. Just absolutely great.’

In the background, I watched as dad threw his arms around my wife. ‘Looks like Jimmy there fed you a whale before you left the house.’

‘Dad,’ I yelled. Pregnant women don’t like to be called fat. Pregnant women are moody and hell would have to raise to the skies before I allowed him to piss Marge off. ‘She’s pregnant.’

‘What do you mean she’s pregnant?’ Dad replied with a childish smirk taking control of his face.

‘I told you…’

Marge cracked up, proving that she hadn’t taken the slightest bit of offense to the question.

‘I know she’s pregnant you big dummy. Grow a sense of humor, will you?’

Okay, everyone was laughing and I guess I was reading a bit too much into the whole pregnancy equals low self-esteem thing. But this man really did have a big mouth and a terrible memory.

‘You look great Margarine,’ he changed his mind and called her by that awful nickname that I hated. ‘You’re one of the few who can still glow while someone’s eating away at your insides. I should show you some pictures of Eleanor when she was swollen up because of that Jimmy boy. Oh man, that was a sight.’

‘I was pretty big,’ mom agreed.

I would have disagreed and pinned their memory of her pregnancy on old age. However, I’ve seen pictures of mom during her pregnancy and she looked like a completely different person. The slender, five feet four inches woman looked like a yoga ball.

‘You know Marge,’ dad said, finding it hard to keep his hand off my wife’s shoulder, ‘you’ve just got a couple more months to go before our bellies look like twins.’

Marge’s face went from light pink to cherry red in an instant. Each word that slipped out of my dad’s mouth caused her to laugh harder and harder.

‘She’s not having triplets, dad. There’s just one little peanut growing in there.’

‘Hell, I was hoping she’d be having enough to drive you mad the way you drove me and your mom mad.’

There he went again, going on about how much of a terrible child I was. ‘Well, you know they say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, so I’m guessing you weren’t much better yourself.’

‘Me,’ dad pressed down on Marge’s shoulder as he mustered up a laugh, ‘I was the
worst
. You know that movie Chuckie. The one that scared the crap out of you,’ he nodded his head profusely, ‘that was me.’

‘You used to go around killing people?’ Marge butted in.

‘Oh, no Margarine. I just looked like the kid. Every other day my parents would have to take me to the doctor to get patched up. Most kids in town fell out of trees. I fell off rooftops.’

‘Christ.’ Marge’s hands shot to her mouth the way they usually did when she was surprised, sad, distraught, happy or had any other less than or more than regular feelings.

‘Alright,’ mom finally chimed in, ‘I think we ought to get going. I’d rather not be on the road too late.’

‘So dad, you’re completely fine with this,’ I asked, shocked that he didn’t have something snappy to say.

‘I can go calm or I can go kicking, but either way, I’m gonna go, right?’

This wasn’t my dad talking. There was no way on earth my dad just said something that made sense. But it was him. That Teletubbie looking man who was more red in the face than an apple, made me know that I wouldn’t have to reach for the paracord to restrain him. Apparently I took too long to reply because there he was, chatting again.

‘You look disappointed Jimmy. You know what it is with you kids nowadays, you just love drama.’

‘Oh no. Nope. Not at all. Totally drama free here dad. So if you would kindly leave all the heavy lifting up to me and make your way to my vehicle which is parked out front, that would be greatly appreciated,’ I said in my most chauffeur-like tone.

‘This man’s making a mockery of us, Eleanor,’ he turned to mom.

‘Comes after his old man,’ mom shot back, edging dad in the stomach with her elbow.

Thankfully, there was no pushing and tugging to be done and we got right to packing all their belongings into the back of my Nissan Frontier.

‘So we’re just going to leave my car here, are we?’ Dad said, shocked that all the bags and boxes were being packed into my vehicle.

‘You’re not really supposed to drive for that long dad.’

‘For an hour. Boy, you must think I’m a corpse or something. There’s much more stuff in the house that needs to be taken out and I don’t know what kind of Math teacher you are if you think they’ll fit in that thing you have over there,’ he pointed to my car.

‘Mom?’ I turned to her for reassurance.

‘Your dad’s still a fine driver, son. It’s just when the night kicks in that he starts acting like he’s playing auto theft grande.’

‘You mean grand theft auto,’ I chuckled.

‘Whatever, that Spanish kid from church says it’s called grande and last time I checked, I didn’t see you playing video games.’

I decided to let her have her win. If she wanted to name the video game after Starbuck’s cup sizes, then I wouldn’t stop her.

‘Okay. So dad?’ My voice pulled him away from a conversation he was having with Marge. ‘You wanna show me what else needs to be taken out?’

My arms were sore, my legs were weak and I just couldn’t wait for the pulling and lifting to be over. With a pregnant wife and two elderly folk standing by my side, I insisted on doing the heavy lifted on my own. I wouldn’t be surprised if I left their home with more slipped discs than a skeleton. In the bedroom, dad pointed to two oversized boxes and a trash bag filled with objects that poked out the sides. Rather than asking him what on earth he was planning on bringing into my home, I gripped the edge of one of the boxes and pulled. He helped me to lift and position it into his car and then I collected the other two items that needed to be packed up.

‘We’re all set,’ I yelled breathlessly as I gave the garbage bag one last push and secured it in dad’s vehicle. Everyone smiled, except dad, who looked at his home as though it was going up in flames. ‘Dad…’ I patted him on the shoulder, ‘this whole thing will blow over before you know it and you’ll be back to cleaning your fishing gear and doing whatever it is you do in the garage.’

‘I hope so Jimmy boy. I really hope so. You know how long me and your mom have lived in this house?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Over forty-five years. I don’t even remember calling another place home.’

I felt his pain. I really did. He didn’t have to lose his home to the bank to go through what many were feeling due to foreclosures. Instead, a threat, one that hadn’t yet presented itself in full-force, but one that could not be denied, was driving them out. It saddened my heart to see dad hold back the tears that caused his eyes to shimmer. However, I knew that I was doing the right thing. I knew that
he
knew, moving out was the right thing to do.

‘I know it’s hard dad. I mean, I don’t know because I haven’t been as attached to a place as you are to this one, but I can really imagine that it’s not easy.’

‘Not at all,’ dad replied. He reached to my side, took my hand and gave it a tight squeeze. ‘Your mom and I, we raised you well.

‘You sure did,’ I threw him a smile.

A strong gargling sound intruded my dreams, sending me sprinting to the kitchen. There, stood dad with a wooden spoon in his hand and his fingers ready to flick the switch to the sink incinerator. ‘Stop it,’ I yelled, confused as to what he was doing.

‘Sorry Jimmy. Did I wake you guys?’

‘Uh. Yeah.’ I wasn’t even trying to hide how pissed off I was at having to hop out of bed. ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’

‘Trying to turn off the kitchen light. I think I must have broke it but then again, there’s something really up with the plumbing and electric connections in this house. Every time I turn the light on, the sink goes crazy.’

If this had happened in the morning, when I was wide awake and not sleep deprived, I probably would have been holding my stomach trying to soothe the stitches that laughter had brought on. ‘That’s not a light switch dad.’

‘That is a light switch, son,’ he jeered. ‘If it looks like a light switch and flicks like a light switch…’

‘It’s an incinerator,’ I cut him off.

‘An inciner-what?’

‘If you toss leftovers down there, it grinds it all up.’

He pulled out the wooden spoon to see that large chunks of it were chipped off. ‘Holy Jesus,’ he exclaimed. ‘There I was about to put my hand in there to see what the hell got stuck.’

‘Well it’s a pretty good thing you didn’t.’

‘You don’t have to tell me twice. Get back to bed now,’ he said in an all too familiar tone, ‘but turn the lights off before you do.’

I took dad’s wrist and walked him over to the actual light switch, mounted on the left wall of the kitchen. I used his hand, which was curled in a fist, to flick the light off. ‘See, that’s how easy it is.’

‘Whatever Jimmy.’

‘Sleep well, dad.’

‘Go snuggle up with that lovely wife of yours and put another baby in her,’ he replied.

‘Dad!’

‘What? You’re acting like you’re going to bed early for any other reason. You should have loved the tuning out that I was doing with the incarcerator.’

‘Incinerator.’ I shook my head, walked away and refrained from talking to dad about my sex life. If only he had known just how worried I was after receiving mom’s phone call the previous night, he would have realized that there was nothing but sleep on my mind.

***

‘Rise and shine,’ came mom’s overly chirpy voice. The pinstriped curtains in my bedroom were fully drawn and the sun was nowhere to be found. Having not lived with my parent for a while, I forgot just how little sleep old people needed to function. She could stay awake knitting all night and still be up before six o’clock was ready to strike.

Marge rolled around to face me. ‘She’s not serious, is she?’

‘She sounds pretty serious,’ I smiled.

‘Ugh,’ she replied, pulling the thick blanket over her messy head. ‘This is what will take a lot of getting used to.’

‘Eh. See it as preparation for when the baby comes.’

‘Oh, when our little one’s here, you can be sure that you’ll be doing the late night shifts. Cindy told me that many women toss and turn for their entire last trimester and if I’m sleep deprived then, you can bet I’ll be catching up on my snooze when baby’s here.’

‘We’ll see about that.’

I placed a kiss on Marge’s head and told her to take a couple more minutes while I dealt with mom. In the kitchen, she was already clanking around pots, ready to whip up a nice, hot breakfast.

‘Say, have you guys only got this premade junk or do you have actual flour and actual sugar to make pancakes.’

‘Mom, I’m a prepper, flour and sugar are things I have in abundance.’

I reached in front of her and opened the cupboard below the one she was facing. ‘Here you go, more sugar and flour than you need to make a hundred pancakes.’

The look on her face told me that she was truly impressed with the quantity that I showed her. However, that was just the beginning. Our house was structured in a very clever way, and though on the outside, it seemed relatively small, there was just enough space to house an extravagant stockpile.

‘How about after dinner I introduce you guys to the place where we
really
store our food.’

‘Sounds great.’ Her answer didn’t depict interest. However, this may have been more due to the fact that she was busy strengthening her wrists, mixing pancake batter. Being old school, she avoided utilizing the hand mixer which was positioned within two feet of her.

‘You know you can…’ I started.

She instantly knew what I was going to suggest. ‘Yes, yes. I know I can use your technology but this is like morning exercise, so leave me be.’

Who was I to complain? Mom’s pancakes were to die for and if she insisted on sweetening them up with the love of her wrist, then I wasn’t going to stop her.

‘How long do you think until you’re done?’

‘Another half hour or so.’

‘Good. I’m gonna get showered up and then I’ll take care of setting the table.’

‘Great, but we all know how you love to waste water, so don’t take too long. Breakfast is a meal best served hot.’

I entered the bedroom to see that Marge was no longer in bed. Instead, the sound of the shower beating over her body was to be heard. I tapped on the door twice, informing her that I was coming in. Together, we enjoyed the warmth of the water soaking our skin. Marge’s stomach was surely getting bigger and the entire time in the shower, I had a hard time preventing myself from staring at it and imagining just how much fun our little one was having doing summersaults in her tummy.

When I got back into the living room, I noticed that mom had already set the table.

‘You know I said I’d do that, right?’ I turned to her.

‘Oh, not to worry. I’m still your mom, I can take care of the small things. Plus, if you’re going to want me to feel comfortable, then you can’t treat me like a guest.’

She was right. If I intended on living in harmony with my parents, then I needed to allow them to be them, while preventing them from changing the rhythm of my life too much. Having breakfast made was something I could live with. Having the table set was also something that wouldn’t make me feel like less of a man. However, having dad clip his toenails in the middle of the living room- well, that shouldn’t be happening.

‘How many screws are you missing?’ I barked at him in a tone that bore the slightest hint of friendliness.

‘Wouldn’t say I’m missing any screws but a few nails have already made their way off my foot.’

‘Dad. You can’t clip your nails on the coffee table. That’s what bathrooms are for.’

‘Thought they were for showering but whatever. Your house, your rules.’

‘Damn it Chuck,’ mom chimed in. ‘I’ve talked to you about this for over a hundred years. You think people want your shark teeth stabbing them in the behind when they sit on the couch.’

Shark teeth? Is that what she called his toenails? Though it did pique my interest, I didn’t want to know. Dad sprung to his feet but not before letting out a few grunts to show us that we were being a bother.

‘Two more minutes,’ mom called out in a tone too loud for me, but loud enough for both dad and Marge-who was still in the bedroom- to hear.

‘Let me help you with those,’ I said to mom, before taking the platter of pancakes out of her hand and setting it down on the hardwood dining table that was big enough for a group of eight.

Mom followed closely behind with a bowl of boiled eggs. I picked up the bacon from the kitchen counter and brought them to the dining table.

‘Ready,’ mom yelled to dad and Marge.

Both entered the dining room at the same time. ‘Smells delicious,’ Marge commented.

‘Well, let’s hope they taste as good as they smell,’ dad smirked.

Mom, who was now seated beside dad at the dining table, slapped his wrist. ‘You think if my cooking wasn’t great you’d have a belly that big to show off.’

‘I like to say it’s from too much beer,’ dad giggled.

Together, we enjoyed an exceptionally delicious breakfast- one that rivaled that of the local breakfast house that many would consider the best in the country. Now, it was time to get them acquainted with my stockpile and I couldn’t wait to see what they had to say.

‘This way,’ I motioned to the group.

Through the hallway behind the dining room we walked. The first door I opened led to the laundry room and the second led us down a flight of stairs. Once, I’d gotten to the bottom, I flicked on the light switch. I’m not sure why the electrical work was that way. After all, those stairs have left me with more than the regular amount of bruises, having fallen down them my fair share of times.

‘Holy hell. Did you bring us here to run a supermarket?’ Dad exclaimed. ‘I knew there was a catch to you opening your home to us.’

‘No dad. You won’t be running a supermarket. This is our stockpile.’

‘Stockpile?’ he and mom said in unison.

‘Yup. That’s what we preppers call it.’

‘Peppers,’ dad chuckled like a school kid. ‘Still don’t get why you insist on calling yourself that.’

I didn’t pay him any attention. ‘As you can see, the shelves mostly contain canned goods and then in those buckets,’ I pointed to the left of the room, ‘ we’ve got lots of rice, flour, sugar, beans, oil and a whole bunch of other essentials.’ Showing them the stockpile brought out the school teacher in me. ‘To the right, we’ve got gallons and gallons of water.’

‘Looks like one of those tetris games.’

‘Well mom,’ I smiled at her reference, ‘you are indeed right. We’re going to need all the water we can get and thus, it’s best to have a system that allows the water to be stacked neatly, as to get as much space as we can.’

‘What’s in there,’ dad pointed to a cupboard behind him.

‘That’s where we keep all the medical supplies. Painkillers, hydrogen peroxide, bandages, that sort of thing.’

‘So you’ve got a pharmacy going on in here too. I’ve never seen anything like it.’

‘Something like that. Everyone in the neighborhood’s got their own stock but mine’s the biggest and so, I’ll be in charge of helping out when supplies are running low.’

‘So… you’ve got a supermarket, and a pharmacy. So I’ve got to ask, where’s the bar?’

The room filled with laughter. ‘Dad, in this crisis, I think the last thing we’ll need to think about is alcohol.’

‘In this crisis, the first thing I’ll be thinking about is how to tame my nerves so I guess alcohol should be with the pharmaceuticals. Am I right?’

‘No. You’re not right but…’ I cleared my throat. ‘That doesn’t mean I haven’t got some goodies for you.’ I walked around the shelves to another little room where there was box piled on top of box. Everyone followed. ‘This…’ I looked dad dead in the eyes, ‘is where you’ll find a little whisky to tickle your throat.’

‘In those boxes,’ he scratched his head and moistened his lips with his tongue.

‘In these boxes. Well, some of them contain beer, and there’s a mixture of gin, rum and some other junk in there.’

‘Not junk, treasure.’

‘If you say so, dad. But this pile here isn’t to be used for partying. Since alcohol can be used as an antiseptic, to start fires and so much more, we need to ensure that all of it isn’t used to get a buzz. Alright, so there, we’ve got toilet paper and napkins and in that box, with the blue lid, that’s where we’ve got the real junk. Those are mostly the barter items, but they’re also items that we can use to lift our spirits when we’re sick of the beans and spam.’

‘So that’s where the real junk is,’ mom added.

‘Exactly. That’s where we keep the real junk. Chips, chocolate, that sort of thing. Oh and underneath your bed upstairs,’ I addressed mom directly, ‘there’s more water.’

‘Huh.’

‘Yeah. Marge and I have got containers of water underneath our beds too. It’s valuable storage space.’

‘So we’re sleeping on water beds.’ Dad positioned his hands to the side and acted as though someone had set him in a pool and he was ready to paddle away.

Laughter bounced from wall to wall. Dad was a truly funny character and I was happy he was here. People like him are valuable assets during a depression- comic relief is never a bad thing.

‘Okay, so let’s head outside, where you’ll see what used to be a vegetable garden. We’ve actually got a greenhouse in the community where the temperatures are regulated and so it does a lot better in these cold months than my little garden was able to do.’

‘Gardening, I love it,’ mom did a little jumping dance to show her excitement.

‘You know mom. If you’re interested. I can probably speak to one of the guys to see if they can put you on the greenhouse rotation. You’ll be there with some other lovely folk like yourself.’

‘That sounds brilliant.’ Her face lit up and I could tell that she was truly happy that she’d be able to have a hobby to keep her mind off things.

‘Okay. So mom will be running the garden and I’ll be running the supermarket.’