The Journal: Ash Fall (2 page)

CHAPTER 1

May 1

“Mom? Where are you?” Eric called out from
the direction of the garden.

“Down here by the creek. I’ll be right up.” I
scooped a handful of cold spring water and splashed my face then
dabbed the moisture off with my ever present cloth hanky, and made
my way back up the hill, taking deep cleansing breaths as I went. I
had gotten very good at hiding my pain from my family. They had
their own grief to deal with, they didn’t need mine too. I greeted
my son and granddaughter with a sincere smile, and gave each of
them a hug once I made it to the top of the hill.

“Did you come over to help me work, Emilee?”
I teased my son’s eleven year old little girl.

“No, Nahna, but Dad says I should if you
really need me to,” she said, shrugging her thin pre-teen
shoulders.

“That’s good to know. When I really need
help, like for weeding, I’ll call you.” I laughed when she groaned
at the thought of weeding. “What’s up, Eric?”

Since he and Jason no longer shared my
brother’s house across the road, there was more than enough work
and upkeep for Eric to stay busy, so I didn’t see him all that
often.

“Jason and I were talking this morning about
foraging, and I was wondering what might be coming up soon. I know
the cattail flowers are a ways off yet. I haven’t even seen any
shoots.”

I remembered the first time I fixed him that
delicacy and he ate most of the plateful!

“They won’t be ready for another month or six
weeks, but I was just noticing the fiddleheads starting by the
creek. These are too young yet, we’ll give them a day or two and we
can start picking. Ramps might be ready, though. Want to take a
ride?” The wild leek patch wasn’t far, less than four miles, though
we were still restricting gas usage. With their high miles per
gallon, the 4-wheelers with which we had been gifted were perfect
for a short trip such as this.

Although Moose Creek had power restored two
months ago, we were still struggling. My contact at the County
Emergency Management office, Tom White, came through for us again
with a tanker of regular gas, though it wasn’t free. Limited
supplies and limited availability from the refineries had jumped
the price of gasoline to a whopping $20 per gallon. We no longer
rationed the gas at Fram’s, the only gas station in Moose Creek. At
that price, it was self-regulated. No one made a casual trip to
Marquette anymore. Those with vans or mini-vans offered shopping
rides for a share in the cost of gas. Food was still coming in to
our new food bank, however with the grocery stores in Marquette
being restocked, that was coming to an end soon. I was told we had
one more delivery and then we were on our own. Again.

The series of earthquakes that ripped the
country in half along the New Madrid fault line last November left
many small towns and communities floundering. There were few
deliveries between the East and West Coasts: little food, less
fuel, and diverted electricity. Moose Creek suffered greatly, and
though we made it to the other side, it was not without great cost
and deep personal suffering.

* * *

“Give me a half hour to finish tilling the
garden and to clean up, and we’ll go,” I told my eager
granddaughter.

“Mom, I can finish that if you want,” Eric
offered. My boys knew there were times I needed to do my own hard
work and keep my mind and my hands busy.

“No need, but thanks. Since it was tilled up
in the fall, it’s an easy walk through, and I’ll do it again
anyway.” I was looking forward to getting the garden planted,
though without a nursery to fall back on for plants, I couldn’t
risk planting too early and having the tender house grown seedlings
killed by a late frost. Planting was still a few weeks away.

Eric and Emilee arrived on the 4-wheeler left
for Jason. No one touched the deep metallic blue machine parked in
the lean-to that was John’s. With tools and cloth bags secure in
the milk crate basket on the back of my camouflage painted machine,
I led the way to the ramp patch, a few miles down the road.

* * *

“Wow, Nahna, look at all the pretty flowers!”
Emi said, turning circles to view the patches of the Dutchman’s
Britches, little flowers that looked like upside down white
bleeding hearts, mixed in with the brilliant yellow of the low
growing Marsh Marigolds, and my favorite, the tiny fragrant Spring
Beauties, with their mix of pink and white and striped. There was
even the occasional False Solomon’s Seal, a tall stalk of delicate
white blossoms.

“Yes, they are very pretty, Emi. Maybe we’ll
pick a small bouquet before we leave. First, let me show you how to
identify what we came for: food!” I’d been collecting ramps to
supplement my meals for many years, and only found out a few years
ago that the greens were just as tasty, making the entire plant
edible.

The long oval leaves with a pale rosy base
were easy to spot, and abundant, though many of the bulbs were too
small and immature to harvest. “Guess we’re a bit early for the
ramps, but we can still gather the leaves. If we cut them off with
these scissors, Emi, the bulb will keep growing and make more
leaves.” I handed her a pair of left handed scissors and one of the
three cloth bags I had stuck in my carrier, and let her work on her
own. Of my two sons, Jason, was left handed while Eric was right
handed. However, both of my grandchildren were lefties, as are
their mothers, and my mother. With that genetic propensity, I made
sure I had adequate tools for either. Eric and I used pocket knives
to harvest our share of the delicate, tasty leaves. I even found a
few bulbs that were large enough, and would add a zing to our meal
later.

After collecting two full bags of ramp
leaves, we walked over to the low wetlands near the river, looking
for fiddleheads.

“Like these, Nahna?” Emilee had carefully
snipped off a tightly curled fern stalk, and held it up for
approval.

“That’s just perfect. Let’s see if we can
find twelve of them.”

“Why only twelve, Mom?” Eric asked.

“That gives us four each. I want to see how
you and Emi like them and react to them before we pick a lot. No
sense in over picking if you can’t or won’t eat them. We might as
well let them mature. The mature ferns are not only lovely to look
at, they offer shade that helps keep moisture in the forest floor
and protection for small animals,” I replied. It had taken many
hours of study to understand our delicate woodland ecology, and I
refused to upset it needlessly.

Pan fried Brookies caught earlier in the day
and a big pot of ramp greens, along with our daily fresh bread,
made for a wonderful dinner. I missed having Jason and Jacob here
with us, especially at meals.

JOURNAL ENTRY: May 1

I spent a few minutes on the computer tonight and
printed out my Fall Prep/Chore list. It’s past time I reverse the
process and turn everything back on. It seems like such a very long
time ago that I was wrapping up hoses for winter and turning the
outside water off. Of all the chores, I dislike that one the most.
I doubt that will ever change. It’s the first one I need to do
though, because so many other things depend on having that water
available.

Next will be turning the cistern over and hooking up
all the gutters again, and that’s Jason’s chore. Then I need to
make any repairs to the fencing. I need to put the flower boxes up
on the railings, and run all the hoses. And, and, and……

So much to do.

* * *

CHAPTER 2

May 2

The world is run by those who show up. It was
time I stopped hiding and showed up, not that I had any interest in
running the world, but I did feel somewhat helpful in running Moose
Creek.

I still stopped in to the office once a week,
mostly to just to touch base with Anna and to keep up on the latest
news in town. Otherwise, I was keeping a low profile. My emergency
management position with the township was never meant to be a round
the clock job as it ended up these past six months. I was
physically, mentally, and emotionally drained from all that had
been thrust upon me. I really didn’t feel like socializing and
there were so many things to do at home with summer just around the
corner.

I parked my four-wheeler between another ATV
and an unfamiliar small gray car in the town hall parking lot. The
township was given eighteen semi-new machines after we defeated a
mob of escaped prisoners. The prisoners had stolen the 4-wheelers
and started a pillaging rampage that ended here, with us killing
all of them. A grateful county and dealership told us to keep the
vehicles.

“Hi, Anna, is anything new or interesting
going on?” I asked as I walked into her office, not knocking and
not noticing she wasn’t alone. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize you
were busy. I’ll come back later.”

“It’s okay, Allexa, please come in.” She was
all smiles and professional. “I’d like you to meet our newest
resident, Dr. Mark Robbins.”

I smiled and offered my hand. “Doctor,
welcome to Moose Creek.” I couldn’t help noticing his unusually
dark blue eyes, fringed with dark lashes, and the way his chestnut
brown hair curled around the collar of his hunter green Polo shirt.
He was right out of GQ.

“Allexa Smeth is our Emergency Manager,
Doctor, and has been invaluable to the survival of Moose Creek
these past few months,” Anna continued.

“My pleasure,” he said, his voice deep and
soft, and he held my hand shake just a bit too long.

“A new member of our community? We sure can
use you.” I smiled again and pulled my hand back. “What’s your
specialty?”

“I was a trauma/ER doctor in Saginaw,” he
replied. “After the collapse, I saw way too much of the cruelty man
was capable of, and the damage he can inflict. So I escaped.” He
grimaced, and though a very real shadow clouded his deep eyes
enhancing the blue, it still seemed a well-rehearsed explanation,
and there was an uncomfortable moment. Anna cleared her throat.

“I’m glad you’re here, Allexa. I’ve got
something for you,” she said, opening the top drawer of the large
desk. She pulled something out and handed it to me.

I looked at the long white envelope in my
hand. It was windowed and had my name on what looked like a check.
“What’s this, Anna?”

“Your paycheck for the last six months. I
wish it were more, but it’s all I could get out of the Board. And
don’t you dare try to give it back,” Anna replied. I had to stifle
a smile because that’s exactly what I was thinking of doing.

“Fine,” I said, folding the envelope and
sticking it in the back pocket of my well-worn jeans. I felt grubby
next to Anna with her neat as a pin hair style and pressed powder
blue pants-suit, and the doctor in his chinos and polo shirt. “I’ll
talk with you later,” I said to Anna, and turned to acknowledge her
guest with a nod. “Doctor.” I made to leave, feeling very
awkward.

“Allexa, wait!”

I turned back to face Anna, eyebrows raised
in question.

“I was hoping you would give us some help
here. We need to find the doctor someplace to stay temporarily,
then a place to live, and some suitable office space. You’re the
problem solver, what would you suggest?” Anna asked.

“Well,” I said, leaning against the door
jamb, still feeling unkempt even though my baggy shirt was one of
my best, “there’s no shortage of motel rooms. For temporary
housing, I’d suggest the Inn since it has dining facilities. The
green house just across the road, Anna, is it still vacant?” She
nodded. “It would take some work. The upstairs is a private
residence, and that lower level could be converted to an office for
the doctor, and it’s centrally located.” I turned to the handsome
man sitting by Anna’s desk. “It would be comfortable, just not
luxurious, as long as you don’t mind living and working in the same
space.”

Anna knew all this, and probably had thought
of it herself, which made me wonder why she was asking me.

“It’s what I would expect, and it would be
more convenient for attending any patients, day or night,” he
agreed. “How long would it take to get it ready?”

I looked back at Anna. “I can have Jason stop
over later and look at the place and give an estimate. He will want
to meet with Dr. Robbins to know what he has in mind.” I had
absolutely no idea where we would come up with the equipment that
would be needed to furnish a functioning medical office, however
that wasn’t my problem. “I’ll talk to him when I get home.”

“Is this Jason your husband?” the doctor
asked.

I smiled. “No, I’m not married. Jason is my
son.”

“Allexa, why don’t you take the doctor over
to the Inn, show him where it is and give him a quick tour of the
town while you’re at it?” She smiled innocently. I had the feeling
she was playing match-maker. How did I politely tell her – and him
– I wasn’t interested?

* * *

“Perhaps we should start with the house, Dr.
Robbins,” I offered, as we walked to the parking lot. “It’s just
across the street here, and you might want to see it before you
start thinking about repairs or remodeling.”

“Mark.”

“Excuse me?”

“Please, call me Mark.” He flashed a toothy
white smile at me.

“Fine, Mark it is. I’m sure the few things
needing attention on the residential level aren’t anything Jason
can’t handle. I’d guess maybe a week, you’ll have to talk to him
about his schedule,” I commented as we made the quick tour of the
house. “It sure does need a good cleaning though,” I added.

“Anyone you could recommend for that?” Mark
asked politely.

“Let me ask around,” I replied, though I knew
my daughter-in-law Amanda was very good at cleaning and she needed
the work.