Wilson Harp - EMP

“Thanks, Mom,” I said as I sat at the table.

“If you need to wash up, I have a couple of five gallon buckets of water in the garage,” Dad said as Mom put my breakfast in front of me.

“Where did you get those?” I asked.

“Well, not all of us sleep in past dawn,” Dad said with a smile. “I went and got water from the well.”

“You carried a five gallon bucket of water across the street?” I asked.

Dad sniffed. “It’s not that heavy.”

“Dad. Look at me.”

He sighed and looked up from his papers.

I sat my fork down and tried to look at him like he was Emma. “You know the doctors said you were to not to be moving things more than twenty pounds. I realize you probably did a lot of digging and moving of things yesterday you weren’t supposed to, but I don’t want to hear of any more of that kind of activity.”

“Okay, Pops,” Dad said.

His mockery cut a bit, but I knew he needed to be told he was being watched.

“Five gallons of water is close to forty pounds, and you know that.”

“That’s why I only carried one bucket at a time.”

“Well now you need to only carry a gallon at a time, or wait for me to get the water.”

“David,” Mom said. “He was only doing what he thought he should.”

“I’m sorry, Dad. And I know, Mom. I’m just concerned.”

“Shush,” Dad said as he looked at me with a sharp expression.

“Pat, don’t talk to David like that.”

Dad held his finger up to his lips as a sign she should be quiet as well.

I was irritated at his refusal to listen to me, but then I realized he was listening to something else. When I realized what it was, I jumped to my feet and ran to the front door. Dad was just a step behind me.

When I pulled open the door, the sound was clear and distinct. Someone was using a motorized weed trimmer.

“It’s Bill Jenner,” Dad said. “He is out trimming his house. Look.”

I looked to where Dad pointed and saw a rotund, balding man holding a weed whacker, trimming the weeds from around a bush near the side of his house.

As if drawn to the sound, I started walking toward Bill Jenner’s house, three lots over. I noticed there were others outside of their houses beyond the spectacle. Because Bill was on our side of his house, the others were looking around in astonishment.

As I walked toward Jenner and his amazing activity, I noticed two horses were headed my way down Granger. Anne would be here soon with both of her horses, but I had to find out what was happening.

I looked behind me and the Johnson’s were out of their house looking our way. Sarah had her phone out and looked at it with a furious visage. I guess she thought if one machine was working, the rest had to be as well.

Bill looked over his shoulder as we approached. I could see by his blood-shot eyes and sallow complexion he wasn’t feeling real well that morning. He was sweating more than even a heavy man should on a cool April morning. He was hung-over.

Dad and I stopped at the edge of his lawn and just watched him. Soon, a small crowd of people were gathered around. No one spoke. We were mesmerized by the sound and sight of a machine working.

Bill worked around the back of his house and then up the other side. All the while, a crowd of people lined his yard in the front. He took glances over at the crowd occasionally, but kept about his work.

Finally he was done and he turned off the trimmer. The spell was broken and people started talking. Some took out their phones, like Sarah had, and started trying to turn them on. It disturbed me a little that so many people were so attached to their phones that they still had them in their pockets two days after they had becomes useless chunks of plastic and metal. Maybe they held hope that somehow this situation would just resolve itself.

Bill walked into his garage and put his trimmer up. He climbed on his riding mower and tried to start it. Nothing happened. He tried again. He looked out at the crowd lining his property and then dropped his face into his hands. I guess he finally remembered what had happened. He climbed down from his mower and went into his house.

As his door closed, the crowd broke up.

“Isn’t that a sight,” Anne said.

“I think we need to figure out if any of my tools might work,” Dad said as we walked back to the house. “You start looking in the garage, I’ll go get the key to the shed.”

‘What should we be looking for?” I asked.

“We’re supposed to go into town, David,” Anne said.

“Anything gas powered to start. We’ll check anything with batteries as well, but I’m not optimistic about those,” Dad answered.

I wanted to follow Dad, but Anne required attention first.

“Anne, let Ted know what happened here, okay?”

“Do you want me to leave Clyde here for you?”

“No,” I said. “Take him into town and see if someone else can use him?”

“Okay, I’ll let Ted know. And when I get done, I’ll come back for supper.”

“Why?” I asked. It sounded short and rude, but I didn’t understand why she would want to come back to my house for supper.

“Because it’s been a few months since I have spent time with your folks. Just because you threw me out of your life doesn’t mean they did.”

She mounted Bonnie and led Clyde north into town. I could feel the embarrassment coloring my face.

I went into the garage and started looking carefully at everything in there. Most of the things I found were hand tools or gardening equipment. The few power tools I found were electric.

I joined Dad out in the shed after half an hour of searching the garage.

“Find anything?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. Found two flashlights, but neither worked.”

“Those probably need new batteries.”

“I was wondering about the flashlight that didn’t work the first night,” I said. “Seems the EMP didn’t fry the smoke detector battery, so why should it have hurt the ones in the flashlight?”

“That one is an LED flashlight,” Dad said. “I figure the EMP hit the display, not the batteries. The ones in the garage are the old incandescent type. If the bulbs didn’t pop when the pulse went through, they should be okay.”

Dad had a keen mind and I was always amazed at how quick he was to come to a correct conclusion.

“Find anything out here?” I asked.

“Acetylene torch, small chainsaw, and roto-tiller. Those are the only ones I have hope for.”

I looked at the equipment he named and reached for the chainsaw when I heard a horse approaching. I looked out expecting to see Anne riding back. I would have a chance to apologize for my insensitive comment. But instead I saw Ted on a splotchy brown and white horse.

“Morning,” Ted said as he dismounted. “Heard there was some excitement here a little while back.”

My Dad stepped out of the shed and looked at the man who had brought some semblance of order in town yesterday.

“Ted, nice to see you again.”

“You too, Pat. David here said he was going to be my runner for this section. I was surprised he was your son, as easy as he was to work with.”

Dad chuckled a little, walked over to Ted, and stuck out his hand.

“No hard feelings?”

Ted shook my dad’s hand and smiled. “None, Pat. Calling me a paranoid nut-job who can do what he wants is one of the nicer receptions I’ve had in this town.”

“Yeah. Well, I guess you get the last laugh.”

Ted shook his head. “No, this is nothing to laugh about. I just want to keep as many people alive as possible.”

“You think it’s long term?” Dad asked.

“Maybe. But we better plan on that being the case. We won’t have a lot of time otherwise.”