Curtain Fall: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 1) (26 page)

John spotted the twenty-five pound bags of pinto beans on a bottom shelf and added four. He did the same for the white rice. Rice and beans were a staple in the Latino diet, but from a dietary standpoint, when they were combined together they formed a more complete protein. Such a diet was also high in fiber, and could be blended to create a variety of flavorful, filling, and life-sustaining meals. In fact, John had more rice and beans in his storage larder than wheat. He loved rice and beans.

As he passed down the last aisle, John grabbed a case of pop-tarts and instant oatmeal. He wasn’t a fan of either, in fact he hated them for their processed sugary deliciousness, but he thought the kids would like them. The importance of including kid-friendly foods, or any type of comfort food for that matter, was important during the opening phases of disaster survival. It was a time when any element of normalcy could make all the difference in morale and mindset. The kids would need something to remind them of their former safe and secure lives, and nothing did that like an appreciated pop-tart. With that thought in his mind, John also grabbed a case of sweetened cereal.

Next, he added pasta, ramen and “Cup-o-noodles” to the two carts. Finally, as John neared the end of his shopping range, he stopped to study the canned meats. Tuna was an absolute no-brainer for him. He might be the only one in the family who ate it, and thanks to the Army he did so with peanut-butter and crackers, which disgusted the family, but it was John’s personal comfort food. But it was also the best in John’s book.

Tuna had the longest shelf-life of all the canned meats in the store, and it was also the healthiest. Not only was it an excellent source of protein, but it contained potassium, and B vitamins, as well as healthy omega-3 fatty acids. It might smell funny, but it was an excellent addition to any survival larder, so John grabbed four, twenty-can packs and tossed them into the cart.

As for the other meat-eaters in the house, John grabbed two six-can packs of canned chicken and beef. They were in larger cans, near family
size, but he felt restrained from adding more. He didn’t think the family would be interested in eating any of the meat till their freezer was empty, and that would take a month or more. And even then they might not eat the canned meat, because Jenna thought it was too salty. Be that as it may, John knew hunger had a way a recalibrating someone’s eating habits.

While standing next to the two heavily loaded carts, John sighed and pulled out the shopping list. He mentally checked off the items on the list and then stuffed it back in his pants pocket. Somehow he had missed the cornmeal, baking soda, and baker’s chocolate.

He left the carts where they stood and went to find the missing items. The cornmeal and baking soda weren’t an issue, but the baker’s chocolate was nowhere to be found. However, during his search for the baker’s chocolate, John realized he completely forgot about spices. As he looked them over, he wondered which of them was essential, or at least more essential than most.

Not wanting to spend too much mental energy on the challenge, John began to grab, what he thought of, as a well-balanced assortment. He grabbed two large containers of black pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, basil, oregano, pinto bean seasoning, cinnamon, and nutmeg. The other spices, though useful, were excluded for the sake of storage. Besides, it was unrealistic to purchase every spice when the basics were more than enough to make a difference in their food prep.

John reviewed the shopping list once more, and then said aloud, but quietly, “Time to do a little John shopping.” John momentarily left the shopping cart where it stood, and wheeled the flat-cart to the front of the store where he parked it near an empty checkout counter.

After retrieving the shopping cart, he headed for the candy aisle. Again, thoughts of sustaining the kids’ mental health prompted John to head for the sweets. Since Halloween was right around the corner, there was an excellent assortment of variety bags to choose from. He grabbed four large bags of assorted heat-tolerant and individually wrapped candies.

He also added two large bags of trail mix, mixed nuts, and four cases of granola bars, and two of protein bars. While he walked to the front of the store, John pulled out his cell phone and called Jenna.

“Hey babe . . . where you at?”

“I’m over in the toiletries area. I need about another five or ten minutes.”

“That’s fine,” said John. “It’s gonna take me awhile to check out anyway, so I’ll get started. Do you need my help for anything?”

“No. I’m fine. I’ll meet you at the car . . . as planned.”

They said their goodbyes and John slipped his phone away. “
Time to pay the piper
,” he thought, a as he headed over to his flat-cart.

John was about to push the two carts away when a young, twenty-something, blond woman waved for him to approach the closed checkout lane she was approaching. “That’s okay, sir, I’ll take you right there. I’m about to open up anyway.”

John thanked her, handed her his membership card, and then pushed the flat-cart closer to her side of the register. A moment later another woman came over to help the cashier process John’s large order.

He did his part by unloading most of the food from the shopping cart and placing it onto the belt, but he was more interested in mentally calculating how much the food would cost him. He had the money to cover it, but he never before made such a large single purchase from Costco, and he wondered what it would come to.

He also hoped the two women wouldn’t ask him what his plans were for the food. He didn’t want to say it was none of their business, and it wasn’t, but that was rudeness beyond John. That left him only one option, to tell another lie. But lies, even in the name of security, were wrong, and it bothered him whenever he played with them. Fortunately, the ladies treated his order just like any other, or in other words, they were too busy processing his order to talk.

While John swiped the membership credit card through the reader, he spotted Jenna heading over to a different register. To her credit, she
ignored John entirely when he stared at her. She had her own membership card, so John didn’t need to help her check out, but he was impressed with her ability to completely ignore him. He was also surprised to see she had two loaded carts of her own.

John felt a momentary stab of guilt when he saw the purchase amount on the screen. It wasn’t guilt over cost as much as knowledge, or what he was doing with the knowledge he had. He immediately pushed it aside, and was deep in thought about his remaining shopping when he realized the cashier was talking to him.

“Excuse me . . . I’m sorry. I was distracted,” replied John.

“It’s OK. I’m guessing you want some help getting to your car?” she asked with a completely honest smile. “Would you like me to call for assistance?”

John smiled in return and said, “Yes, please. If you could. If someone could help me to the car, I can handle unloading.”

“Sure, just a sec,” replied the young woman, and she radioed a code to some nearby associate, after first giving her register number. John figured the code was something like, “Hey, come help this old guy out to his car,” or something like that. He never before asked for help, but he knew there was a first time for everything. The load of supplies was simply too much to handle by himself. The trip across the parking lot would be more than he could handle in one trip, and since he wasn’t up to making two, the help would be appreciated.

John didn’t have long to wait for help. By the time he had the membership card back in his wallet, a young man, his head covered in a green bandana, approached John and asked, “Can I help you with your purchase, sir?”

“Yes,” replied John. “I just need help out to my truck.”

“Sure, not a problem,” replied the young man, and he followed John to the exit with the heavily laden flat-cart. John smiled as he saw Jenna’s continued attempt to remain detached from John waiver and crack. Her eyes got big when she saw the amount of food her husband was leaving the store with.

Now it was John’s turn to play “cool-cucumber,” and he walked past where she stood at the register without acknowledging her in any way. To the average observer, Jenna presented an expression similar to that of several other folks who took notice of John’s food, but he didn’t care. It was a lot of food, but that could mean anything.

John thanked the young man for helping and he turned his attention to loading all the food into the back of the Suburban. He was about to drop the second row bench seat, but decided to reserve that space for Jenna’s supplies. And he was glad he did, for when she arrived he saw just how much she had.

Before he could comment on her supplies, she said, “What is going through that head of yours, John Anderson? That’s way too much food.”

Instead of replying to her comment, John began to whistle the familiar R.E.M. tune about it being, “. . . the end of the world as we know it.”

Jenna punched him softly on the shoulder and hissed, “That’s not funny, John!”

“You’re right . . . it’s not funny. We’ll need this food, Jenna. It won’t go to waste,” said John.

“I hope you’re right. No, I mean. Oh, never mind. Just help me load this stuff in the car,” finished Jenna.

They both knew the disaster would claim many lives, some directly and some indirectly. And though they could wish it wouldn’t happen, neither of them was willing to bet their lives, or the lives of their children, on that chance.

Jenna turned and wheeled the empty flat-cart away, and then returned a moment later to take away the first of the empty shopping carts. John was forced to shift things around a bit to accommodate Jenna’s supplies. The back of the truck was completely full, so much so that John wouldn’t be able to see out the back window. But he was fine with that.

When they were finished, they climbed in and drove off. Jenna reached into her purse and dug out her half of the shopping list. She
studied it for a moment and said, “I found everything I need except for the vitamins.”

“They didn’t have any vitamins?” asked John.

“No, they had ‘em. I just don’t like the brand they carry,” replied Jenna.

“Do you want to stop and get some on the way home?” he asked.

“That depends on whether or not you were able to call Abby’s doctor about her prescription,” said Jenna, as she deliberately eyed John.

John brought a closed fist to his forehead and said, “Crap! Nope. I totally forgot.”

“How can you forget something like that?”

He turned to look at Jenna and said, “I’m sorry. I’m not perfect. I’ll call the office right now.”

“You’re driving . . . I’ll do it,” said Jenna, as she fished in her purse for her phone. She palmed the phone, tapped away with an index finger, and placed it up to her ear. “Hello, my name is Jenna Anderson. I’m calling on behalf of my daughter, Abigail Anderson.”

John listened to half the conversation, but he had a pretty good idea about what was being said on the other end of the line. He’d done it himself countless times before. Abby’s health demanded it.

A few minutes later Jenna was connected to the nurse practitioner, and she explained, “I’d like to order a refill for Abby’s insulin. No. Yes, we have everything we need but the insulin. Yes, both types, please. I understand. Yes, we are willing to pay out-of-pocket for the prescription. Can we order a six month supply? No, we’re not going out of the country. Okay. When will I be able to pick it up? Tomorrow? Okay, thank you. Goodbye.”

“What did they say about the six month prescription? That was a great idea,” said John.

Jenna sighed and replied, “They can’t do it without a doctor’s signature. The nurse can approve a ninety-day supply, but nothing larger than that,” moaned Jenna.

“Can’t they get a doctor’s signature?” asked John, perplexed.

“Yes, but the doctor’s out of town till Monday. We can wait and try again on Monday, or we can go forward with the extra ninety-day supply she approved.”

“Ninety is better than nothing,” replied John.

“I agree,” said Jenna. “And we can always call again on Monday and talk to the doctor then. But they usually don’t issue more than ninety days of insulin because of potency issues. Apparently it has a short shelf-life,” finished Jenna.

“Yeah, I understand all that, but shelf-life or not, insulin that’s only half effective is still better than no insulin at all,” replied John with irritation.

“You’re saying that because you fear for the worse,” remarked Jenna. “The doctor’s office doesn’t think like that. They don’t know about the disaster. And even if they did, I don’t think they’d give us more.”

“You’re right . . . they probably wouldn’t,” replied John.

They drove in silence for several minutes, each contemplating the growing range of disaster effects and how it would affect their family. Jenna was the first to break the silence when she looked at her shopping list and said, “Can I read my list to you . . . to see if I got everything?”

“Sure,” said John. “Go ahead.”

As she read the list, John would either nod his head and say, “Yup, I saw that,” or he’d just grunt. But when Jenna said, “Toilet paper,” John added more and replied by saying, “I’d say you cleaned the store out.”

Jenna looked over at him and with squinted eyes said, “You know darn well we’ll use it.”

“Oh, it’s not that I think we won’t use it. I just think we should get more,” teased John.

“Oh, really?” replied Jenna with amusement. “You think I use too much toilet paper?”

And before John could check his mouth at the door, he replied, “I do. I can stretch a single roll for an entire month.”

“One roll for an entire month?” mocked Jenna. “I would love to see you try that,” she added as a direct challenge.

John, with his male pride now on the line, tried gingerly to avoid stepping on the landmine he just laid for himself. “Well, what I meant to say was, while I was deployed, and with the help of the toilet paper that comes in MRE’s, I was able to stretch one roll of toilet paper an entire month.”

“Fine!” said Jenna. “I accept your challenge, Mr. One-roll-of-toilet-paper-a-month. You’ll be using pages out of a phone book before the week is out.”