The Journal: Ash Fall (12 page)

“I think if we put some rocks in the pond on
one side, we can use them to wire the plants in place until they
can take root,” I suggested. “And although the fish won’t have any
predators to hide from, like eagles or geese, I’d like to have
maybe some driftwood for a more natural habitat.”

“That would solve a problem that’s been
bothering me. I think I’ll ask Eric to gather up some large rocks,
then a couple of buckets of creek bottom. The fish will need a sand
and gravel bed if we want them to spawn. Any thoughts on what kind
of plants you want?”

“I think I’d like some cattails and water
lilies, maybe some marsh marigolds.” Just those three plants would
add a great deal to the new pond, in both habitat and color.

“Those should be easy enough to find. The
cattails and marigolds are just down the road, and I know a spot on
McKenna’s Bay where I’ve seen lilies.”

I could see his mind drifting away with
plans, and knew better than to interrupt his creative moments.
Besides, I had bread to bake.

JOURNAL ENTRY: June 3

The news tonight just reaffirmed in my mind that
things were not going well in the rest of the country. There were
more riots in the cities that are still under Martial Law and heavy
curfews. Refugees from the middle sized cities of 150,000 are
invading the countryside and farms looking for food and relief from
the violence, only to bring the violence with them. And new
diseases are emerging, some flu-like viruses, some bacterial and
highly communicable.

* * *

CHAPTER 11

June 4

I pulled into the parking lot at Eagle Beach
at 7:50 A.M. This was the start of the morning massages for John
and now Sven, too. Inwardly, I was thankful it was a cool morning
so my wearing long pants to hide the stitches on my shin didn’t
seem unusual.

I was ready at eight o’clock sharp, and Sven
took the first massage. Even though I know John waits so he can
sneak in a kiss or two, he really needs to get some sleep. Those
night shifts are brutal.

“Only two more weeks and I go on rotation,”
John murmured into my ear as we hugged after his massage was
over.

“I’m definitely looking forward to it,” I
grinned. “Now, you get some sleep and I’ll see you next week.”

* * *

I took what seeds I felt I could spare and a
mesh bag of old potatoes that I had extra and left for town around
noon. Most people would have tossed out these shriveled up spuds,
with the dark brown skin all wrinkled and the long white eyes
poking out. I had let these grow intentionally from what I dug up
last fall. I haven’t bought seed potatoes in years, always
perpetuating my own. I planted all I had room for in the garden, so
the rest could go to the community garden. Now I needed to find
Pastor Carolyn.

* * *

Cruising by the community garden first on my
four-wheeler, I spotted her with a hoe, hacking away at the soil.
Other members of the church were there too, diligently marking rows
with strips of cloth.

“Hi, Carolyn,” I said, announcing my presence
so I didn’t startle her. She was now our most senior member in the
town. We had lost most of the elderly to the flu that rampaged
through Moose Creek last winter.

“Allexa, good to see you!” She leaned on the
hoe, seeming to be grateful for the break. “What do you think of
our garden? Come to help out?” Her usually bouncy gray curls sagged
under the heat and sweat. She, too, seemed to sag under the blazing
sun and bright blue sky.

“In a manner of speaking, yes I have. I
brought you a bag of seed potatoes and some seeds. There’s
rutabaga, kohlrabi, radish, collards, and carrots.” I handed the
bags to her, and her eyes smiled. Carolyn and I have a history of
quiet collaboration from last winter. She knows I will do whatever
I can to help, but I have a limit and I don’t want any credit.

“These are all I can spare, and I wanted you
to have them as soon as possible. They need time to germinate, and
we never seem to have enough of that. There won’t be any second
chances with the garden.” Time and Fate have had a way of going
against us lately. A worried cloud passed over her face and was
gone just as quickly.

“How are you feeling, Pastor? You look …
extra tired.” I reverted to her formal title so she would
understand my concern. “Maybe it’s time you had a checkup from our
new doctor.”

“Fiddlesticks! I’m fine. I am tired though,
and hot. Maybe it’s time for me to take a break and let the
youngsters work for a while.” She leaned the hoe against a nearby
fence where other tools were lined up. It was interesting to me to
see how we have stepped back to a time where there was an unspoken
trust. Those tools would still be there in the days to come; no one
would even consider moving them, except to work in the garden.
Theft and crime in our town had come to a halt, leaving our new law
enforcement team, Ken and Karen, without much to do. Eric and Lenny
were backup deputies, and were even less needed.

Carolyn sat down in the shade with a bottle
of water, and I turned my attention to the remaining workers to
show them how to maximize the handful of sprouting spuds. We dug
four long trenches and watered. Then I selected one of the
potatoes, pulled my pocket knife out, and cut it in four pieces,
leaving one or two eyes on each piece. I had one of the young girls
place them in a trench, cut side down, 18” apart. Once they got the
gist of it, I took Carolyn home on my four-wheeler so she wouldn’t
have to walk. I did not like the ashen color of her skin.

Since I was right next door, I decided to pay
a visit to Bob and Kathy. It had been too long since I’d seen them
and I felt like I hadn’t been a very good friend.

“There you are,” I called out to Kathy when I
found her hard at work in her raised bed garden.

She looked up from the troweling and gave me
a bright smile. “Hey! Good to see you, my friend.” She wiped her
hands on her ragged jeans, something she never would have done
before, and gave me a hug.

“What are you planting, Kath?” I asked,
surveying the eight beds laid out in a spoke design. The hub was
multi-tiered and filled with perennial herbs, and the paths were
packed with faded bark chip.

“I’m putting in the usual veggies, just a lot
more of them. This bed will be all carrots, and that one I’ve
already put in the potatoes. Another will have green beans if I can
find the seed. There’s the rutabaga, peppers and summer greens,”
she said as we walked the circle. “And peas. I’m still debating on
the squash; it was a wasted effort last year.”

“Are the tomatoes on the deck in the earth
boxes?”

“Yes. Once the power came back on steady, I
started some seeds in my hydroponic herb unit. The tomato and
pepper plants are a lot smaller than what I normally start with,
I’m just glad I have some.”

“That’s the one thing lacking in the
community garden right now, tomatoes! I sure hope someone else has
tried to grow something on their own.” I paused, and then turned to
her. “I’ve missed seeing you and Bob. Maybe the four of us can get
together soon?”

“Four? Is John back?” Kathy asked
excitedly.

“Yes, just not full time. He’s still working
the mine and staying on Eagle Beach, and we see each other as often
as our schedules allow. It seems to be working.”

* * *

I was going to do some laundry when I got
home, except the power was out again. This was becoming more and
more frequent.

June 5

A visit from Joshua Beals was the last thing
I expected. The young man is only 21, tall and lanky, with a
laid-back attitude toward life and a ready smile. If he were forty
years older, I would liken him to a hardworking hippie. I hadn’t
ever visited his place, but I knew he and his grandmother loved to
garden and I assumed that had sustained them in their solitude.

“Joshua, how nice to see you,” I said,
smiling. Neither he nor his grandmother had been seen for the
entire winter. “It’s good to know you are still with us.” I gave
him another big smile and a hug.

“It was a rough winter, Miss Allexa, but we
made it.” Like everyone else, he had lost some weight, and had a
haunted look in his dark eyes.

“How’s Martha?” His grandmother preferred to
be called by her first name, even by her own grandchild.

“Truthfully, she’s been better,” he replied.
“Actually, that’s why I’m here…” I waited for him to continue,
since I had no idea what he meant. “I stopped to see the new
doctor, and asked him to come out to check her over. Martha refuses
to leave the farm. Anyway, he said he would and when I asked him
how much, he said he wouldn’t charge us anything at all.”

I instantly knew part of the problem: the
Beals would look at that as charity. They were very proud and would
never accept Mark’s generosity.

“I told him we would pay,” Joshua said,
“though it would have to be in barter, so I offered him a
goat.”

“I didn’t know you had goats,” I said, just
picturing Mark with a goat and I stifled a snicker.

“Doctor Mark said he didn’t need or want a
goat. He said maybe I could trade it to you for something he did
want. He said if you accepted the goat, then he would consider
having been paid. Will you take Matilda?” Joshua pleaded.

I couldn’t imagine what Mark had in mind,
however, if this was the only way they would accept his visit, I
knew I must.

“Of course, Joshua, I accept the goat in
payment for Doctor Mark. You might have to hold her for me while I
can figure something out for her. And you might have to give me a
few tips on how to care for her.” He looked so relieved. “What
other animals do you have?”

“Well, we still have Bossy. I know that’s a
stupid name for a cow. Martha thought it was a good joke. Bossy’s
been giving us enough milk to drink and make cheese. Would you like
to do some trading?” There was an undeniable eagerness in his
voice.

“I would be happy to. What do you need?” I
suddenly had visions of a new Moose Creek economy.

“Martha has been too weak to make bread. Do
you know how or know someone who does? I miss my sandwiches. And I
lost my last chicken to a coyote a few weeks ago. Do you know
anyone with chickens?”

“You’ve come to the right place, Joshua.
Would you like some iced tea?”

* * *

We sat down at the picnic table and discussed
‘prices’.

“I have eggs and just hatched some chicks.
How many chickens do you think you could use, Joshua?”

“Um, I-I don’t know,” he stammered. “I hadn’t
thought that far since I didn’t think anyone would be willing to
give any up.”

“Would six hens and a rooster do for now?”
The relief that flooded his face was magical. “Of course, the
chicks are less than a week old, so you can’t take them just yet.
I’ll trade you a dozen eggs for a gallon of milk for now, and every
week until the new hens start producing. Would that be okay?”

His head bobbed in speechless agreement.

“Now, how would you like a loaf of fresh
bread for some of your cheese?”

“You make bread too?” he asked in wonder.

“Every few days. My family loves bread.” I
laughed. “I do have one small request, Joshua. I need you to keep
Matilda. I agree that she’s now mine, except I really don’t have
the space or the time to take care of a goat. Will you do
that?”

I had seen the sorrow in his eyes when he
talked about giving up his goat, which I suspected was more of a
pet, and I knew he would do it to get his aging grandmother the
help she needed.

He swallowed hard. Emotions didn’t come easy
to this young man. He nodded compliance once more.

“Great! That sure helps me out, Joshua, thank
you.” I stood and held out my hand to seal the deal.

It’s an extra bonus that his farm is less
than a mile away. I sent him home with a dozen eggs, a loaf of
fresh bread, and a promise from him of returning in a day or two
with a gallon of milk and a pound of cheese. He took the “credit”
reluctantly. He’s a good young man with very firm morals.

I felt buoyed for the first time weeks. We
were establishing something meaningful for the community now.

* * *

All this encouraging news was darkened by
tonight’s newscast and the report of more quakes on the West Coast,
including three in Yellowstone.

CHAPTER 12

June 6

When I was weeding the herb bed, I plucked a
handful of chive flowers. Those sweet smelling purple flowers have
quite the zing to them. Most people don’t realize they’re edible
fresh or dried and make a charming garnish.

Emilee came skipping across the road as I
finished weeding. Even though traffic is non-existent now, she
still stopped and looked both ways before starting across. She
makes me smile and watching her lifted my spirits.

“What are you doing, Nahna?” She stuck her
nose down into the chive flowers. “Oh, they smell pretty!”

“Yes, they do. They are also tasty.” Emi’s
eyes brightened. Unlike her cousin Jacob, Emi is willing to try
almost any new food. I picked one up and held it out to her. “Do
you want to try one?” When she reached for it I added, “Be careful,
they have a strong peppery taste.”

She popped it in her mouth and started to
chew. The expression that flooded her scrunched up face was
priceless and I had to laugh.

“It’s okay if you want to spit it out,” I
told her. She didn’t. She grimaced and swallowed it.

“I don’t think I want another one, Nahna. The
taste isn’t bad, but there’s so much of it, it makes my mouth
burn.” She made another face that got me laughing again.

“There’s some sweet tea in the refrigerator,
Emi. Why don’t you get us each a glass?”