The Last Tribe (16 page)

Greg’s eyes opened when the study
door shut.  Rebecca returned from feeding the chickens. 

“Something tried to get into the
garage and eat our chickens.”  She told him.  “Maybe a fox or a fisher cat.”

“What’s a fisher cat?”  He asked.

“A marten.” 

“Like a bird?  A bird tried to eat
our chickens?”

“That’s a martin with an i, this is
a marten with an e.  It’s like a badger or weasel, and it’s after our egg
source.”  She removed her coat.  “It didn’t get in, but there were scratches on
the door and concrete floor.”

“Can we catch and eat them, these
martens?”  Greg asked.  “We could use some meat.”

“I guess.  We can read about them
in the library.  I would assume, since they are coming after our chickens, we can
set a trap for whatever it is.”  She stood by the fire.  “I like your new attitude.”

“Let’s eat and walk into town.”  He
said as he sat up on his mattress.

The real estate office was a useless
exercise and took up the entire morning.  They accepted defeat and walked
slowly to their house for lunch. 

“I thought we’d find someplace.” 
She told him.

They were at the top of Choate road
and about to make a left towards their home when Greg stopped.

 “Wait, I have an idea.”  He
suddenly blurted.

“I’m not moving.  What do you mean
‘wait’?”  Rebecca enjoyed using Greg’s sarcasm.

“Funny.”  He said, acknowledging
her attempt.  “During one of my summer visits I had to go to this museum.  My
mom never let us just hang out, she always wanted to do something, you know,
give us culture, whatever.  Anyway, there is a cottage, Daniel Webster’s House
or something like that.  It’s a museum, kept in the old style, fireplaces,
woodstove.  I think it all still works too.”

“Are you serious?  Why didn’t we
start there?” 

Greg looked at her.  “Because I
didn’t think of it until now, that’s why.  I assumed my father was sending me
to the best place.” 

“So where is this museum?”

Greg turned and pointed to a white
sign twenty feet away.  “It’s right there.”

Rebecca smiled and held up her hand
for a high five before turning and walking to the front of the tiny museum.

 “It’s a two story house, but it’s
small.  You can tell it doesn’t have ten foot, or probably even eight foot
ceilings.  This house was built to heat from a fireplace or woodstove, and to
keep heat in the rooms.  Look how small the windows are.”  Rebecca made initial
observations. 

“Don’t forget, we can move and use our
own furniture.  We’re just looking for heat and cooking sources.  We can move
rain barrels to collect water, and if you don’t think I’m going back to that
house and getting that awesome couch?  You are wrong.  Did you sit on that
green one?  OMG, it was so comfortable.  Incredible.  I liked that small dining
table they had in the sunroom too.  It was perfect for two or four chairs.” 
Rebecca continued to talk about furniture as they made their way to the front
door. 

The door was unlocked.  “That’s a
good sign.”  Greg said to her as he pushed it open. 

The front opened into a small
mudroom with benches on either side.  It was set up for guests or owners to sit
and remove their muddy boots before entering the house.  It kept warm air in
the house and cold air outside. 

“This is kind of like a space ship
airlock.  You have to close the outside door before you get into the main
ship.”  Greg said as they entered the house.

“What are you talking about?” 
Rebecca responded.  “Are you telling me that you’re actually a SciFi geek.  You
were able to keep it a secret, but now it’s out there.  You’re a geek.  The
whole world dies and I get stuck with a 14 year old Trekkie.”

“Whatever.”  Greg smiled back. 
“I’m not a geek, and I refuse to be called a geek by a 13 year old college
freshman.  If you want to step up and get measured on the nerd-o-scale, be my
guest.” 

The second door opened into a short
hall.  To the left was a living room furnished with old style chairs and a
couch.  To the right was an open door leading into a bedroom with an old
fashioned four poster bed.   A fireplace was visible on the far wall of the
bedroom.

The ceilings were low.  The two
rooms were small.  It was dim in the house, partly because of the small rooms
and low ceilings, but also because the windows in each room were tiny with deep
window boxes. 

“The bedroom has a fireplace.  We
could put twin beds in there, and it will be perfect.”  Rebecca sounded
hopeful.

A staircase led to a second floor. 
It was a steep staircase that was shorter than a modern set needed accommodate
ten foot ceilings and duct work between floors.

 Greg ignored the stairs, turning
to his left and into the living room.  A fireplace with a wood storage cut-out sat
in the center of the wall.  Three small windows let in light, trapped heat, and
kept cold air out.  The windows were old with wrought iron panes separating
imperfect glass.  The walls were thick.  The glass was set on the far side of
eight or ten inch window frames. 

“This is another great room.  These
windows could use some help.  Have you ever seen the plastic stuff at the
hardware store you can put up on windows to keep drafts out?  We need a hair
dryer to finish the job.  I bet we can figure something out.”  Greg used the
plastic insulation in his dorm room last winter, preventing the draft in the
old dorm window from blowing on him at night.

“I’m getting that couch from the
other house.  This stuff is all hitting the curb.”  Rebecca shook her head. 
Greg got the sense she had already decided on the house.  Instead of inspecting
each room for viability, she was re-decorating.

“So you think this is a fit?”  Greg
asked her.

“If the kitchen has a woodstove,
you’ve struck gold.  This house is perfect, literally perfect for living
through a no electricity Hanover winter.  Did you notice the house next door
has about a cord of firewood stacked against the outside of the house?  It
looks like a dorm or something.  Whatever it is, that starts our wood
collection.”

“I haven’t seen a woodstove.  Let’s
hold off on declaring this our new house.  It does seem pretty perfect though. 
If we hang one of our wool blankets to block off the second floor, we can keep
even more heat on the first floor.”

At the far end of the living room
there was an archway into a dining room.  The opening between the rooms was the
size of a door, not like a modern home with the entire wall removed for an open
concept.  Another door on the far wall looked into a study.  It was a small
room with a desk and bookshelves.  They would shut the door and leave that room
closed in the winter, use it for wood storage if necessary.

The dining room was a good size
with its own fireplace.  On the other side of the dining room was an open door
that led into a kitchen.  Greg saw a woodstove and a large farm sink.

“I think we’ve found our new home,
check out the stove.  It has an oven on the side, four burners on the top.  We
are in business.  We should try to start fires in each fireplace, make sure
these are all working heat sources, then walk back and get the van.  Starting
fires means we come back to a warm house.  It’s a little chilly and damp in
here.”  Greg walked around the dining room table and into the kitchen as he
spoke.  There was a pantry to the side of the kitchen, and a back door that led
to a large sunroom they could use to store wood.

Rebecca looked down at her watch. 
It was 1pm.  There would not be time to get the additional furniture today.  They
needed to make fires, get the van, unpack food, boil water, and get settled for
their first night.  “I don’t think we’ll be able to get the single beds and the
couch today.  Let’s focus on the basics.  We’ll start the fires and unload the
van supplies into the pantry.  We’ll do a full house set up tomorrow.” 

“Hey Greg,” she said to him as they
walked back to the front room to check the flue and light the pre-made fire
left by the museum staff.

“Yes?”

“This was a great find, and a
better situation than we left at my house in Concord.  You probably saved us
for the winter.”  There was no sarcasm in her voice.  She wanted him to know
that he was the hero.

“Thanks, I think this house will
work out.  I mean, it already has fires made in every fireplace.  It’s destiny
or fate or whatever you want to call it.”  He moved cobwebs and heard a creak
from the hinges as he pushed opened the flue of the fireplace in the living
room.

The fireplaces and woodstove worked. 
Greg and Rebecca spent the rest of the day unloading supplies and moving wood
from the house next door onto a covered side porch of the Webster Cottage.  They
constructed the chicken coop next to the back door of the kitchen.  The birds
were happy to be free from their small cages, clucking and scratching around
their new home. 

The sun set at 6:00pm.  Greg made
dinner while Rebecca made camp in the living room.  They fell asleep in
sleeping bags on top of a woven rug next to a roaring fire, exhausted from the
stress and work of the day.

Greg’s eyes opened to a dimly lit
room.  The sun rose on the kitchen side of Webster Cottage.  The living room
was bright in the afternoon and dark in the morning.  He could hear Rebecca in
the kitchen.  He rolled over and got out of his sleeping bag.  The fire kept
the room warm through the night.  He checked the outdoor thermometer they set
up the night before, 28 degrees.  Not too bad an indoor temperature for a
freezing outside temperature.  He walked towards the kitchen rubbing his eyes. 

He swung open the door to find Rebecca
boiling water.  The kitchen temperature was above 70 degrees.

“We only have two eggs.  The gals are
upset after the move.  I suspected as much.  Ramen noodles with scrambled egg
for protein.  That should get us going.”  She spoke while concentrating on the
stove before looking over her shoulder at Greg.  “And you need to make some bread
for dinner.  I want my morning toast tomorrow.” 

“You’re in a good mood.  We have a
lot of work to do today.  Why so chipper?”  Greg enjoyed the light hearted
Rebecca, and wondered why she was cooking.

“We are in Hanover. We found a
great house.  Your family is going to show up in a few months.  This is the
best scenario we could have hoped for when you ran into me a week ago.  It
might be our best scenario possible when the world ended, period.  Sure, there
are challenges ahead, but team Rebecca/Greg stumbled into a great find.  If we
fix the furniture situation, we’ll be good until spring.” 

She was right.  Things were looking
up from when Greg slept under his cot at Hightower.

“I was thinking, you know, before I
passed out from exhaustion last night,” he paused, deciding whether to mention
his idea.  “Do you think we should light some kind of signal fire?   Maybe when
we are all set up?  If there are other survivors in the area, we might be able
to help them and they might be able to help us.”

Rebecca’s rules were clear, and her
number one rule was to trust no one.

“I don’t know, Greg.  I just don’t
know if that is a good idea.  It’s easy to think that everyone will be like us,
friendly and helpful.  What if they’re not?  What if we bring a desperate
person, cold and hungry, and they see our house, and our food, and, well, they
haven’t been around a woman in a long time.  I have more to worry about than
you.”  Greg could see fear in her eyes as she spoke.  Rebecca did not appear to
be afraid of anything, but rape was not just ‘anything.’

“Okay, I get it.  It was just an
idea.  Let’s work over the next few days, get our living situation finished,
scout out the town, and then we can talk about it again.  I would never do
anything unless we both agreed.”  Greg left the door open for further
discussion.  He believed adding people could help them survive.  He also
understood the risks involved with engaging strangers.

“First things first, we get our
beds.  We can use the van.  I don’t want to sleep on the floor for one more
night.”

“Agreed”  Greg’s back agreed too. 
He was stiff after two days of loading and unloading supplies, driving, and
sleeping on the floor.

They ate breakfast and drove the
van down Rope Ferry Road.  They struggled mightily to load a green couch and two
single bed frames into the van.  They nabbed an additional leather couch when
Greg declared he wanted his own napping spot for snowy afternoons.  After the
furniture was secured, they systematically grabbed the food neatly boxed by
each front door.

At the end of day five their house
was set up with couches, beds, and enough fire wood to last several weeks. 
They had a half of a tank of gas left in the van.

Greg lit the fire in their bedroom
and walked back into the warm living room.  Rebecca sat on her green couch,
contently watching the fire in the living room.

“I hope it doesn’t get too hot in
there, I like to sleep cold.  Not 30 degrees cold, but not hot either.”  Greg
began.

“I doubt being cold will be an
issue in a few weeks, particularly if the fire goes out while we are asleep.” 
Rebecca said back to him.  “Man is this couch comfortable.  This is the nicest
piece of furniture I have ever sat on, seriously, hands down the nicest.”

“I’m excited to sleep in a bed with
sheets.  It’s been a while.”  Greg sat on his brown leather couch running
parallel to Rebecca’s and perpendicular to the fire.  “Couches are comfortable,
but those beds we picked up this morning?  They looked really comfortable.”

Thirty minutes later they were tucked
into their new comfortable beds.  The bedroom did not get too hot.  Rebecca and
Greg had been together for two weeks.  It felt like summer camp, sleeping in
twin beds next to a fire in a log cabin type structure.  They talked into the
evening, facing each other, elbows bent, heads in hands. 

“What do you miss most about the
old world, aside from family and friends, of course?”  Greg wanted to know more
about Rebecca’s life.

“Well, I miss school, the structure
of my life.  I’m all about routine.”  She started.

“No, no, not that kind of stuff.  I
mean, what kind of frivolous thing do you miss?  I miss take-out food.  I know
that at private school I didn’t have to cook, but the best nights were when a
few buddies would order pizza, and we’d get it delivered to the front entrance of
the school.  It would be hot and smell so good.  We’d eat the pizza, and tell
other kids they couldn’t have any, and laugh and joke for hours.  Ordering
take-out with friends was one of my favorite things.  That’s what I’m asking,
what do you miss that we are never going to be able to do again?” 

“I miss going to the movies.  I
loved the movies.  I had a subscription to Entertainment Weekly, and I was up
to date on all the new releases, when the sequels were coming, who was starring
in what.  I loved Hollywood and movies.  I would go on Sunday afternoons,
always hitting the 2pm showing of the latest release.  I’d sneak in a box of
candy, because my parents owned a store, and just soak them in.  I don’t like
to think about never seeing them again, because maybe we can get a projector
working.  It makes me sad.  It’s been twenty-one Sundays since I went to a
movie.”

“That’s a good one.  I didn’t think
about movies.  See, you probably didn’t think about take-out food as something
to miss.  It’s funny how we have grown up the same, but miss different
things.”  Greg smiled at her.  Rebecca was doing a long stare, looking through
Greg.

“I don’t know how similar we grew
up.  I’m an only child, and my father ran our store most nights.  He’d come
home for dinner, that was a rule, but my mom and I spent a lot of time
together.  The three of us were close, a tight unit.  At the end, when they
knew they were going to die, and worse, that I was going to live, I think that
was hardest on them.  Can you imagine?  Dying, and knowing your 13 year old
daughter is going to be alone in this harsh world.”  She spoke in a distant
voice, not necessarily to Greg.

“Well,” Greg said in response, “My
dad had to tell me to survive until he got here.  I’m not comparing our two
situations, because your parents are dead.  I still believe my father is
coming, but I think we have a similar story.  Your parents knew you were going
to live, and mine knows I’m alive and he can’t get to me for another five
months.  Both are agonizing situations.  Both affect us, meaning you and me.”

Rebecca came back from her stare
and looked into Greg’s eyes.  She nodded.  She thought about his father, on the
phone, telling his son to stay safe, stay alive, how horrible that must have been. 
Her parents are at peace.  His father was alive somewhere, thinking about Greg
constantly.

“I’m a middle child.  We get
ignored.  I am sort of the opposite of you.  I talk loudly to be heard, I speak
my mind.  I went away to school because I didn’t want to follow my brother
through high school, always living up to his accomplishments.”  Greg yawned.

“Okay chatty Cathy, let’s call it a
night.”  Rebecca replied.  “Geesh, you do prattle on.”  She said it with a
smile.  She spoke non-stop since he found her.  She was surprised Greg’s ears
had not fallen off from her constant yammering.

“I apologize for rambling.”  He
said in a deadpan voice before yawning again. 

“Goodnight, Greg.”

“Night, Rebecca.  See you in the morning.”

And just like that, they fell
asleep in their new lives together.

The room was warm when Rebecca woke
up the next morning.  Greg silently placed a log on the smoldering embers when
he woke an hour earlier, and the fire came back to life, heating the room after
he left.  He was in the kitchen making breakfast.  The back side of the house
was warm from the woodstove.  Rebecca walked in wearing a robe.

“In our weeks together, you’ve
never gotten up before me.”

“I thought I’d shake things up a
little.”  Greg said back.  “I have French toast cooking in the oven, and warm
tea if you would like some.  It’s colder today, but you can see, the oven heats
this room nicely.”  He handed her a mug of warm tea.

“Um, thank you.  Wow, get you a bed
and you become a whole new person.”

“I’m excited to explore town
today.  I want to see what the condition of the area is.  I need some new
pants, and I want to see what supplies we can find.  I bet there are some great
lanterns at the hardware store we can use, and there are three or four sporting
goods stores over in West Lebanon, about five miles away.  There’s even an LL
Bean.  There have to be solar power options for lights, and other stuff to make
our lives more convenient.”  Greg was eager to get moving.

Greg wanted to find an animal
trap.  Thanksgiving was in a few days, and he wanted to catch a turkey.  He
could keep it in the cage they used to transfer the chickens.  He found some
sweet potato vines growing in pots at a couple of the houses they passed, and
he had bread for stuffing.  He knew he could make a great feast for the two of
them.  Getting a turkey would be a great way to celebrate their new life.

“Um, okay”  It was the second time
Rebecca said ‘um,’ conveying her confusion at the new Greg she encountered that
morning. 

“You know what I want to find?” 
She said after a few sips of her tea.

“I want to see if we can catch some
fish.  I bet there are fish in that pond.  Fresh fish?  That would be great
right now.  That pond is going to freeze over in a little while if it hasn’t
over the last two nights.  We need to find a fish and tackle shop.”

“My grandfather belonged to a
fishing club over the bridge in Vermont.  I don’t think I could find it, but if
we got a map there is a chance.  It was some private lake stocked with rainbow
trout.  They almost jumped in the boat when we went.  You can fish from the
pier and catch some whoppers.  I’m not a big trout guy, but fresh fish does
sound good.  I have this fish stew recipe that will knock your socks off.”

“Alright, you know I like a plan. 
Let’s eat and head over to LL Bean.  I get to go shopping again!  Let’s think
about getting a smaller car or SUV too.  The van is good for this trip in case
we want a canoe for the pond.  I might grab a bike as long as we have the trunk
available.”

“Don’t we have to pay for things
for it to be shopping?  I mean, technically speaking?  Aren’t we just going to
a place to pick stuff up more than shopping?”

“You call it what you want, I’ll
call it what I want.”  She smiled at him as she poured syrup on her French toast.

The house was coming together
nicely.  They had a table in the kitchen to enjoy meals in the warmth of the
woodstove.  There was no running water but the kitchen had a large sink with a
drain running to the outside.  Rebecca set a small rain barrel on the counter
next to the sink basin.  As long as the barrel was more than a quarter filled
with water, there was decent pressure out of the spigot to wash dishes and
hands.

They dressed warmly for the brisk
26 degree temperature outside.  Rebecca drove the van towards town so they
could take an inventory of the specific stores and supplies available within
walking distance.  They also wanted to see if initial appearances were true,
and the town was intact, as their first view of the pristine town might have
been inaccurate.

Greg knew there was a back road to the
shopping malls in West Lebanon, but he was not positive he could remember it. 
He wanted to drive through town before turning around and taking the highway they
knew to the malls.

“Let’s drive down Main Street
before we jump on the highway.”  Greg asked.  “I want to see how the town
looks, maybe head over to the grocery store to see if they have any food.”

They drove through the center of
town.  It was abandoned and peaceful.  All the store windows were intact, and
some of the window displays were still up.  “This joke might be lost on you,
but this is the first time I’ve been in Hanover when I could get a parking
spot.”  Greg laughed to himself, thinking of the endless circles his
grandfather made in search of a parking spot in town.

“It was usually busy?  It seems
like such a sleepy little town.”

“You have no idea.  In the summer? 
You had all these college students, tourists, locals, all crowding the
streets.  There were kids our age, there were retired people.  It was just
people upon people.  Then, the funny thing, there would be these random smelly
hikers.  The Appalachian trail is right around here.  These smelly people with
beards and nasty clothes would be sitting around talking to each other, right
in the middle of town.”  Greg’s thoughts of Hanover were fond, and driving down
Main reminded him of his Grandparents.  They both passed two years ago.  “It
was a great place to visit.”

Greg kept talking as they drove.  “We
would come up for a week or two, spend it at my grandparents lake cottage,
fish, boat, and swim the entire time.  We’d come into town and go to lunch or
dinner, and sometimes we’d come during town events, like the Fourth of July. 
There would be a parade and activities on that square field.  The one we passed
before hitting town, it’s called ‘The Green.’”