The Journal: Ash Fall (28 page)

I felt as if I’d been hit in the chest with a
very large hammer.

“You’re leaving?” I squeaked out.

“I’ll be back, I promise. I have to try and
get to her, bring her back here,” he said. “If I leave first thing
in the morning, I could be in Indiana early on Friday. It’s a
twenty-four hour drive, I’ve done it before.”

“John, the ash cloud… it could beat you
there!”

“If it were your boys, you know you would try
to save them.”

“Yes, I would.” I looked down at our hands,
fingers entwined. A single tear escaped as I centered on being
practical. “There are things to get ready for your trip, and I need
to fill the canner with fish. Then let’s make the most of
tonight.”

CHAPTER 28

July 19

We got up early to finish John’s travel
preparations.

“I think it’s best if I left before Eric and
Jason know I’m going. They’re not going to be happy with me,” John
said quietly.

“Well, I’m not very happy with you either,
but I’d be more worried about Emilee.” My lip quivered. I couldn’t
help it. “It’s her birthday today, John, and she loves you.” The
tears leaked down my cheek.

I had boiled a dozen eggs last night and they
were well chilled now. I set them in a plastic baggie, and then
into an old blue cooler, along with two loaves of bread and a
couple cans of tuna, and a can opener. I had put two one gallon
containers of water in the cooler first, one was frozen and would
keep everything chilled for at least a day, and once thawed, John
could drink it when the other gallon of water was gone. Then I
filled a thermos with coffee.

“You might need to bribe your way through
checkpoints, John,” I said and handed him the cash pouch. “And
don’t leave the Beretta behind this time. Take an extra box of
ammo, too. The road is going to be a dangerous place.”

“I have cash, you keep this.” He handed the
pouch back to me. “I think I will take Beretta with me. Funny how I
feel much safer with it.”

We stepped outside.

“I think I should take your old car,” John
said.

“No, you take the new one. It’s more reliable
and gets better gas mileage. Just make sure you bring it back to
me.” I tried to smile, but it was difficult. We loaded an old
sleeping bag, his duffle, the cooler and one extra can of gas into
the hatch.

“This may seem strange, just trust me,” I
said and handed him two packages of pantyhose, receiving a very
quizzical look.

“There was a TV special years ago about when
Mt. Saint Helen’s erupted in 1980. One of the issues the locals had
to deal with concerning the constant rain of ash was that it kept
plugging up the air filters in the vehicles. They solved it by
stretching pantyhose over the intake. The ash couldn’t get through
the fine weave. If you get caught in the cloud John, put one of
these on the car before the filter plugs.” I was trying very hard
to stay calm, stay even, though I felt neither. “And here are three
of the newer face masks. They also have an eye shield. Not only can
the ash damage the lungs, it can also damage your eyes. There’s one
for your trip down if needed and one for each of you to come back.
And please be careful with your wrist, it’s far from healed.”

* * *

The car was fully packed and by six a.m. John
was ready to leave. We stood awkwardly by the car, neither of us
wanting to be the first to say goodbye.

“I want you to know I believe the town is
wrong. I believe you, and I believe in you, Allex, and that’s why I
have to do this,” John said.

“I don’t want you to go, John,” I choked out.
“Please, don’t leave me, not again. I’m afraid if you leave this
time I’ll never see you again.”

“I love you, Allex, but I have to.” He
wrapped his arms around me, and held me for the longest time. “I’ll
be back in a week, I promise.” He kissed me and drove away.

Ironically, he was dressed in jeans and his
deep green hoodie, exactly what he was wearing when he left me last
March.

* * *

I crawled back into bed and wrapped myself
around his pillow, drowning myself in his scent, and wept until I
was dry and numb. Then calm came over me and I knew John wasn’t
coming back this time.

I had just finished showering and dressing
for the second time this morning, when I heard the voices
outside.

“Gosh, Mom, with your car gone we thought
you’d gone somewhere or we would have been quieter,” Jason said
with a sheepish grin. “Did John go somewhere?”

“Yes, he had something to do,” I dodged.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” I asked as I looked at the two
double batches, twenty-eight pints, of fish I had stayed up to can
last night.

“I thought we should go over your list again
and see if there’s anything we’ve missed,” Eric said. “I know we
need to flip the cistern, and that should take no time at all. Then
what?”

“We really need to get those fish cleaned,” I
said. I set out some cups and poured freshly brewed coffee. Neither
of the boys used sugar. Eric had taken a liking to some of Joshua’s
fresh milk, so I set a small pitcher of it on the table. I picked
my cup up and my hands trembled just a bit.

“Let’s take a walk around the house and yard.
Maybe something that we’re forgetting will shout at us,” I
suggested. I knew that I needed to keep moving, stay focused, or my
thin veneer of control might shatter.

Behind the big metal barn, Jason quickly
climbed the permanent wooden ladder that was attached to the
cistern platform, so he could check the remaining water level.

“Stand back!” he shouted down at us, hefting
up one side of the big cattle tank that served as the collection
pool, pouring the remnants out over the edge. The few remaining
gallons of rain water splashed heavily onto the ground. Using
balance and counter-balance, Jason walked the tank backward and
then lowered it, upside down.

“While I was up there, I noticed some
blackberries ripening,” Jason said. “Maybe Emilee would like to
pick some later, Eric. Give her something to do.”

It was becoming obvious to all of us that
once we had done all we could, it would be difficult to just sit
around and wait. We needed to stay busy. I doubted that would be a
problem, at least for the next few days.

The three of us finished walking around the
back side of the garden, through lush knee high weeds and
undergrowth and then we passed under the fruit trees, laden with
developing apples and cherries that likely would never ripen.
Stopping at the house to replenish our coffee, we checked the list
I had started yesterday.

“There’s still the other bale of straw to
move and the metal can of chicken scratch. I didn’t get around to
doing that yet, but I will,” I said, looking over the list. “And a
birthday party to plan,” I smiled at Eric. “Has Emi mentioned what
she might want for dinner?”

“Pizza is her favorite,” Eric grinned. “I
think she understands that presents are going to be few if any. The
attention might make up for it.”

“I still plan on giving her the Bobcat
handgun, if that’s alright with you.”

“She’ll love it, Mom. Is there anything else
we can do or give her?”

“Well, you can give her a box of ammo and the
little holster that fits the gun. I used it as an ankle holster,
though it’s adaptable to a belt.”

“Will John be back in time, Mom?” Eric asked,
searching my face.

“No.”

I stood and moved to the door, my sons
remained silent.

“Let’s check the greenhouse, see if anything
strikes us there.” I was one step in front of the boys, when I
turned. “Don had turned that old shed into a smoke house, didn’t
he? Can you get it fired up? We should smoke some of this fish we
have. I’ll can two more batches today, though I think over fifty
jars of fish should be enough. Maybe Amanda and Emilee can help me
clean the rest of them.”

“We need to bring in wood for both stoves!” I
commented as we neared the new building and I saw the newly
constructed woodshed. “Wait a minute… when did you two fill this
wood-shed?” It had completely slipped my mind. I had called Keith
for the delivery, and I didn’t remember seeing the pile of split
wood. I know I had lots on my mind at the time, but it would have
been hard to miss.

“Keith came by the morning of the mine
accident,” Eric told me. “Jason and I got it all stacked before you
got back. I paid Keith from the pouch. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” I replied, bewildered that I
hadn’t noticed this major chore being done. “Thank you for taking
care of it.”

“Why do we need to bring in wood now, Mom?
It’s July!” Jason said.

“If the temperatures drop significantly from
the ash cloud blocking the sun, it’s going to get cold. I don’t
want any of us out unless absolutely necessary. And that reminds
me, we need to lower the tarps, too, to keep the ash off the
wood.”

* * *

The greenhouse was crowded, and it was a good
crowded. There was green tumbling from the hanging baskets and lots
of green in the boxes as the plants acclimated to their new home.
The chickens started up a welcoming clucking when we walked in. I
threw them a handful of grain and they clustered around it,
cackling in pleasure. Jason changed the water in the adult pen,
while Eric watered the baby chicks in the other.

I sprinkled some pellets on the surface of
the fish pond and smiled at the splashes the little fish made as
they gobbled up the food. My eyes rested on the statue in the
corner: the bearded gold miner, with water endlessly cascading over
his sluice pan. I turned away, only to be confronted by my silent
sons.

“What’s going on, Mom?” Eric asked first.

“Where did John go?” Jason asked next.

They weren’t going to let me slide on this. I
sat down on the bench that surrounded the gurgling fish pond.

“He left. He went to Indiana to get his
daughter. He said he’d be back in a week, and I have to believe
that, though I have my doubts.”

Both boys just stood there, still silent. I
have to remind myself to stop calling them boys; they are grown men
with their own families.

“Well, Mom, you have us, and you know we
aren’t going anywhere,” Eric said, taking my hand and pulling me to
my feet. We had a group hug that made me laugh.

“We haven’t done that since … I don’t
remember,” I said.

“And don’t tell anyone, Mom, or we’ll lose
our badass status!” Jason quipped.

I took a deep breath and looked at the two of
them, so different yet so much alike. Jason, with his dark hair and
green/brown eyes; Eric with his clear blue eyes and lighter hair
that was now speckled with early gray; yet they were both hard
working and compassionate men.

“You’re right, I have my family and that’s
what counts the most. Now, let’s get the rest of this stuff done in
case that damn cloud shows up early!”

“Mom, before we get started, I wanted to
mention that while I was up turning the cistern, I saw several deer
close by and moving, heading north, just like the birds,” Jason
said. “I think Eric and I should take a few hours and do some
hunting. A couple of deer hanging in the barn could really help
out.”

“Excellent idea, just be back in time for
Emi’s birthday dinner,” I reminded them. “Much of this I can do
myself, if the girls will help gut the fish.”

* * *

We set up work with boards across two
sawhorses near the outside faucet. One tub was set to the side to
catch the heads and guts of the fish, while the other was partially
filled with water to wash the gutted fish. We separated the fish by
size. The largest would get smoked, the smallest set aside for us
to eat in the next couple of days, and the rest would be
canned.

Amanda really caught onto the method of
filleting the fish with scales and those were the ones we would use
for upcoming meals. The three of us worked quickly and efficiently,
finishing our task in less than two hours, while Jacob quietly
watched a cartoon movie.

As the next batch of fish pressure canned on
the stove, I gazed out over the yard, my thoughts still in turmoil.
John had left me again. Why didn’t I feel worse? I didn’t want to
think that I was getting used to his abrupt departures, or maybe I
was. Or maybe it was because at least I had some warning this time.
Or maybe I was numb to it because I just didn’t care anymore. The
disappointment, the pain, it was just too much to bear time and
time again.

My eyes rested on the herb garden. Even with
fresh herbs now in the greenhouse, I should harvest and dry what I
could from the raised beds. They would just die in a few days
anyway.

I gathered a basket full of oregano and tied
it in bunches to hang from the beams in the kitchen. Then I did
parsley and sage the same way. The chives don’t dry well in that
manner, so I got the dehydrator out of the shed and plugged it in.
The light oniony scent quickly filled the room so I moved it onto
the deck. I lined up several glass jars on the counter to hold the
herbs once they dried.

I finished washing and sorting out the
remaining fish. A half tub full of the larger ones was ready for
the smokehouse, and it looked like enough for a dinner with one
more batch in the canner. I was starting to feel fatigued, and
there was still so much to do.

I started the dough for the pizza and set it
to rise.

The little Bobcat pistol lay on the table,
magazine to the side, empty of shells. I took a soft cloth and
wiped it down with gun oil. It glistened in the sunlight shifting
through the window, a light breeze coming through the opened screen
ruffled the papers it sat on.

* * *

I walked across the road to finalize the
party plans with Amanda and was met at the bottom of the porch
steps by an energetic Emilee.