The Journal: Ash Fall (18 page)

“I also don’t have a car-charger for the
phone, so I couldn’t call. Larry offered his phone, however, I
don’t know your number. It’s programmed in so I never bothered to
memorize it, and I couldn’t retrieve it without it being on! Do you
know how frustrating that is?” He finished his coffee and I poured
him another cup.

“Traffic was bad. It wasn’t until we hit
Escanaba that I realized without power none of the traffic lights
were working. I will say that most everyone was being polite and
cautious at all the intersections, although there were still
accidents that blocked many of the roads. The delays were
maddening!

“It was hours before we pulled into Sawyer,
and then I couldn’t get out of the lot because the automated toll
booth didn’t work, and there was no one around at five in the
morning.”

“How did you finally get out?”

“It’s a truck. I drove over the curb.” John
grinned. “I really wish I could have called to let you know I was
on my way, Allex. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I was very worried, John. You’re back now,
and that’s what counts.” I was very relieved that he was back
safely.

“I missed your birthday,” he lamented. “I
have something for you, but I want to do this right and I’m
exhausted. Do you mind waiting just a few hours more?”

John took a long hot shower, and then slept
for six hours.

While he was sleeping, I made a fresh batch
of bread, cheesy tomato, his favorite. Then I got a jar of chicken
and diced it, along with some hard boiled eggs and onions fresh
from the garden, mixing it all with homemade mayonnaise to make
chicken salad sandwiches for when he woke up. I knew he had to be
hungry.

* * *

“Oh, that really hit the spot! I didn’t
realize how hungry I was,” John said, finishing off a second
sandwich and one of the beers Eric had left behind.

“I really am relieved you’re back, John. I’ve
missed you,” I said. “How was the visit with your daughter.
Christine, right? And your mom? I imagine they were disappointed it
was so short.”

“Yes, they were, and they were very
understanding about it.”

I couldn’t help but think he looked nervous
about something and it filled me with trepidation. Maybe I didn’t
want to know, yet I had to.

“What’s the matter, John?” I asked quietly,
reaching for his hand as he drummed his fingers on the table.

He stood up suddenly and started pacing. Then
he stopped in front of me, knelt down so we were eye to eye. He
looked like he had just swallowed a lemon wedge. Sideways.

“Will you marry me?” he asked, producing a
small ring box.

I was stunned. How many times had I thought
about hearing those words? And now, was filled with doubt. I smiled
to cover the chaos in my thoughts.

“John … I-I love you and there is no one I’d
rather be with than you, except, well, we’ve both been married
before, and we both know it didn’t work. That piece of paper seems
to say it’s okay to stop trying. Then complacency sets in and
relationships fall apart. Without that legality, we continue to try
and to work on being a good partner. Let’s give this some more
thought.” He looked crestfallen. “With all the pain and chaos going
on, I need something to stay the same, John. We’re together and we
have such a good thing going, why change it?”

Just then Emilee burst through the door and
threw herself at John.

“Grandpa John! You’re back!” she squealed,
giving him a hug. “Nahna’s been very worried about you. She hasn’t
said so, but I know she has, I can tell.”

John slipped the ring box back in his
pocket.

June 24

“I want you to see what progress I’ve made
with the greenhouse, John,” I told him over morning coffee.

“Sure,” he said quietly. He rinsed his cup
and put it in the sink.

John had been very distracted and distant
since yesterday. He was leaving this afternoon for the Green Way
house so he can get the needed sleep to be up at four o’clock
tomorrow morning, when they all readied themselves for the first
morning shift.

We took the outside path to the greenhouse.
The warm late morning breeze lifted my hair away from my face and
dried the sweat from my neck. It was going to be a splendid
day.

“Wow, you’ve been busy,” John commented as he
looked around at all the new plants and sprouts.

“You like it?” I asked. I really want him to
feel part of this, and not just because he paid for it.

“I love it,” he replied, turning to me. “And
I love you. I think you’re right too. We don’t need vows to be
happy and together.”

“Thank you, John. I knew you’d understand
once you thought about it. It’s not to say we can’t change our
minds in the future, just that right now I do feel this is best.” I
gave him a long hug.

“Let’s go look at the main garden. Things are
really coming up now. I’ve got good feelings about this year’s
garden, and I think there will be plenty to can even after feeding
all of us over the next few months.”

Just when we opened the electrified garden
gate, a roll of thunder sounded off to the west.

“Guess I won’t have to water today,” I
laughed. So much for a splendid weather day.

* * *

While out in the garden area, John let the
chickens out into their second yard. The seeding of the two yards
was working really well, even though one of the younger hens had
found a way to sneak past the gate and get into yard that was still
growing. We left the gates open so they could get back under cover
when the rain started.

The overhead clouds were bunching quickly in
ever darkening clusters, and more thunder met us. When the first
flash of lightning cracked across the sky, we headed back to the
house.

* * *

“It’s time for me to go…” John looked
longingly at me. “I seem to be always saying that, don’t I?”

“You’ve always come back, and that’s what
counts,” I replied and gave him a quick kiss. He climbed in the
truck just as the sky opened and the warm rain pounded the dry
ground.

CHAPTER 21

JOURNAL ENTRY: June 25

It’s been twenty-four hours and the rain hasn’t
stopped. The cistern started overflowing yesterday evening and now
the chickens’ second yard is a quagmire. In the garden I’ve left
deep holes where I’ve stepped with my mud-boots. I don’t dare touch
any of the plants for fear of spreading any water-borne diseases.
It will take days to dry out, once the rain finally stops.

* * *

“Allexa! Tom here. I see you’ve called
several times,” Tom White said apologetically.

“Gosh, Tom, I was getting worried when I
couldn’t reach you!” I replied, thinking of when I couldn’t reach
Liz only to find out she had died!

“You weren’t the only one,” he said.
“Actually, I’ve been in the hospital for a couple of stents.”

I was stunned. “Are you okay now?”

“I’m doing much better. They just extended my
warranty,” he joked. “What was it you wanted?”

I had to think back to when I was trying to
reach him. “Oh, the power had gone off and was out for days. I was
wondering why and when it would be back. It’s back on now though,”
I answered. “This keeps happening, Tom. Is it going to be a regular
thing? I just want to know what we need to be ready for.”

“Unfortunately it just might be.” I could
hear him moving papers around. “You know that Marquette produces
its own power, however, all the surrounding towns get supplied from
outside the city and Moose Creek gets fed from Wisconsin.”

“Yes, I know, and that’s why our power was
cut all last winter,” I said, remembering how devastating that was
to our town. “Is it going to be a regular thing?” I asked
again.

“Yes,” Tom admitted. “The edict has come down
that the small towns will go on a rotational power cut. They’re
still trying to figure out a schedule that will be workable for the
power companies and not too hard on the communities.”

“Workable schedule? Like being without power
for five days straight? That doesn’t sound fair and it will be hard
on the communities!”

“Every other day is too hard on the transfer
relays. The next outage for you is tomorrow and will last three
days,” Tom answered. “Then it will be back on for three days.
They’re going to give that a try and see how everyone copes.”

“I guess I’d better let everyone know,” I
replied, exasperated.

JOURNAL ENTRY: June 26

The rain continues to swamp the garden. Noticing how
the water collects where I’ve walked, I’m now digging trenches to
draw the water away from the wilting plants. Too much water is as
bad as too little.

At the risk of damaging the plants, I dug up six
tomato plants, two pepper plants and an eggplant, moving them into
the greenhouse, trying hard to not touch the tender leaves. At
least their water logged roots will have a chance to dry out some.
I can always plant them back in the garden later.

Jason stopped over today and helped me string the
few grow-lights I use for my indoor plants during the winter.

* * *

“I don’t know if this will help, Mom, but it
certainly won’t hurt,” he professed as he finished suspending the
last of the five lights and then plugged them in. A soft glow
pushed back some of the darkness of the rain soaked sun light.

“I’m really tired of the rain,” Jason
complained, sitting at the kitchen table while Jacob watched
cartoons.

“Where’s Amanda?” I was hesitant to ask.

“She’s gone shopping. Today was payday, and
we need groceries,” he replied.

I frowned. “Oh, Jason, that’s just not safe.”
Changing the subject, I said, “I wanted to talk to you about
another project. I’d like another woodshed built next to the
greenhouse. That stove will get plenty of use this winter keeping
the plants warm, and I don’t want to haul wood that far. Besides,
we’ll need all that’s been put up for the stove in the house.”

“That makes sense. How big do you want it?”
he asked. I think he’s looking for more work and that’s fine with
me.

“Well, if you put it against the house it
can’t be too tall or it will block the bedroom window. And if it’s
against the greenhouse, it can’t be any higher than your four foot
structure wall, or it will block the glass. Do you have any
suggestions?”

“Why not put it against the full wall where
the stove is? I can still make it eight foot tall, making it easier
to stack wood in, and if I make it still eight feet long, at only
four feet deep, it won’t be so obtrusive. Of course it will hold
only half the wood as the other shed, although you won’t need as
much with the solar heating. It will be easier to rotate, too.”

“I like that idea! How long will it take and
can you start as soon as the rain stops?” I gave him a couple
hundred dollars for materials and his labor, and left myself a note
to call Keith Kay for more wood.

June 27

I heard Jason pull into the driveway, and
quickly opened the door as he made the sloshing dash from car to
house, trying not to get too wet. It was still raining.

“I need a huge favor, Mom, and before you say
‘I told you so’, I’ll admit how right you were.” He slumped into
the wooden kitchen chair.

“Well, that’s nice to hear, Jason, but what
are you talking about?”

“Amanda. She went shopping yesterday, and
spent almost $500 on groceries. She said it really didn’t buy
much,” he looked down, embarrassed.

“What happened, Jason?”

“After shopping she went to see Lori, and you
know how she loses track of time. She thought it had only been a
few minutes, except she was inside for over an hour. When she went
to leave, the hatch was open on the car and all the groceries were
gone.” He choked on those last words. “She didn’t even lock the
car!” He was on the verge of tears. Money was not worth much
anymore and work was very scarce, so to lose all that was
devastating.

“Where’s Amanda now?” I asked quietly,
feeling so sorry for my son.

“She’s at home, alternating between crying
and being depressed. She didn’t want to come with me. Actually, she
didn’t want to face you, because she knows how much you have tried
to warn us about security.” Jason finally looked up at me, tears
brimming beneath his green eyes.

“What is it you want from me, Jason?” I
asked, promising myself that I would not be harsh on them, that I
would not be judgmental. I reminded myself that we all make
mistakes.

“I’m not even sure if we can replace what was
taken,” he said, “but can I borrow some money?”

“I’m just glad she wasn’t hurt – or worse,” I
said.

I sat back down at the table, and set some
bills in front of him. Six one hundred dollar bills. I normally
didn’t keep that kind of cash on hand, but John had been very
generous when he paid for his massages, giving me way more than he
should. Even Sven had been paying more.

“Here’s the five hundred, and extra to put
gas in the car.” I spread the bills out a little so he could see
what was there. “There is one condition, Jason, and that is Amanda
must promise that she will never go into town alone again! Is that
clear?”

JOURNAL ENTRY: June 28

The rain has finally stopped! Five days of a steady
downpour has been devastating to the garden. I don’t know if it
will recover.

I emptied the rain-gauge every day. Some days there
was one inch; some days there were three inches; total was eight
inches. After the first day I had to move it closer to the house
since I was squishing across the sodden lawn to get to it.

My little creek down the hill is beyond swollen,
it’s way over the banks and the bridge is underwater. I can’t get
within ten feet of either. I’m afraid the soggy land will loosen
the shallow tree roots near the creek, and the trees will topple in
the first wind. At least that will give us more firewood.