Wilson Harp - EMP

It was amazing how much just a few bites of vegetables could satisfy the growling stomach. My thoughts drifted to what I would normally eat on a salad. I’d have carrots and cucumbers, tomatoes and croutons. Oh, croutons! Those would be missing for quite some time. At least the carrots, cucumbers and tomatoes would be available in the next month or so.

We just had to make it through this week, and then maybe the next, but more varieties of crops would come in. Once we made it through the summer, we would have the fall harvest to look forward to. Pecans and walnuts, apples and peaches. I had heard there were some berries that would be available in the summer, but I really didn’t know about any berries except strawberries. And the farmers agreed they weren’t worth the effort. We needed foods that could be keep us going, not just foods that would be flavorful.

I knew thinking about different foods wouldn’t help my stomach pangs or help me focus on what I needed to think on. I looked around and saw I was already halfway home. My pace increased as I thought about working on the radio. Maybe I was putting too much power through it? Maybe I had missed a critical area? What about the capacitors? Could one of those have burned out?

I had been over all of those questions before and hadn’t been able to figure it out, but I was sure I was close to the solution.

Mom was out front of the house with a bucket and a pile of clothes when I approached. She waved at me and went back to her work. I had suggested to dad she go and work for Millie, but he didn’t like that idea. She had been pretty good these last couple of weeks, but he was worried what would happen if she had a bad day. The worst she could do here is break our stuff, ruin our water, or knock over our outhouse, again.

There, he said, she could ruin food for fifteen families in one outburst.

I agreed, grudgingly.

“David,” Mom said as I drew near. “Did you hear the news?”

“No, Mom. What news?”

I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

She kissed me back and smiled.

“They found some deer!” she said. Her eyes twinkled. She looked ten years younger when she was happy and I could tell she was focused and clear.

“That’s great,” I said. “Who got it?”

“Three. Buck and his boys got three. Two does and a buck. Buck got the buck.” She laughed. “Isn’t that funny?”

“Sure is,” I said with a laugh. “Where are they?”

“Hanging out in front of Buck’s garage, from what I understand.”

“When will they butcher them?”

“I’m not sure. Your dad went down there to see.”

“Okay, I’m going to go put our stew in the house and wash up for supper.”

“Thank you, David,” Mom said as she went back to her work.

I went through the garage and into the kitchen. I set the container of stew on the counter and the bag of salad on the table.

I didn’t remember the last time I had been alone in the house. It was an odd feeling, one I did not enjoy.

I walked back to my room. I intended to look at the radio for a few minutes before supper, but instead I turned and looked into my parent’s bedroom. It was essentially the same as when I grew up. The bed and dressers were the same and in the same location. The curtains on the window were the same ones my mom had hung when I was a child. They were a gift from Aunt Alice.

This room was a place of shelter. A solid point in the chaos of life. No matter what was going on in my life, I could know this room would always be here and always be the same.

I thought about Emma. What had I established that had given her a point of solidity to hold onto? We had moved often as both Lexi and I advanced in our careers. We changed furniture on a whim, the layout of rooms without consideration. The only unchanging element for Emma was we were together as a family. And now we weren’t.

“Davey?”

“Here, Dad,” I answered.

I walked back into the kitchen. Dad had opened the container with the stew and was looking at it.

“No beets?” he asked.

“Missus Marsh said they would add them tomorrow.”

He looked up as he did when he was considering what to say.

“She’s getting food stored up. That’s more clever of her than I would have thought. Maybe the council had that idea,” he said after a few seconds.

“Stored up?”

“We have been living day to day, Davey. And while that is no small feat, we need to start storing some food for a rainy day.”

“I think that phrase is more literal now,” I said.

“Indeed.” He closed the container and motioned me to sit down. “Did you hear about the deer?”

I nodded as I sat down. “I understand they took three.”

“Yes, and Buck says he saw at least four more.”

“Sounds like the deer are coming closer to town again.”

“It does. That’s good news for us, as we will get more meat in our diet, but it also means the coyotes might be heading back in as well.”

“We’ll have to keep an eye on the kids and pets,” I said.

“There is always a balance, you know? When something good happens, there is often a danger associated with it. And when something bad happens, there is often an opportunity.”

Mom walked into the kitchen with her empty laundry basket.

“Oh, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything serious,” she said as she saw us at the table.

“No. Not at all dear,” Dad said as he stood and took the laundry basket from her.

“You may want to check on those clothes in a bit,” Mom said looking out at the laundry drying on the clothes line. “A storm’s coming.”

I held Emma’s hand as I helped her up the crumbling wall.

“Hurry,” Lexi called. She was standing on the remains of the tower and waving us up.

I pulled Emma up the last few feet and she fell into me, giggling and smiling.

She was eight years old again. No, fourteen.

“Will you two hurry up?” Lexi asked. She laughed and we were standing with her.

I turned my head back and saw the land behind me burning. Desolation stretched as far as I could see.

“We’re almost there Dave,” Lexi said.

I turned to look at my wife and daughter. They stood on the tower and were looking out on the land we were struggling to reach.

I screamed as a bolt of lightning hit the tower.

Everything was dark, then the thunder hit and I tried to open my eyes.

“David?” Mom asked. “Are you alright?”

I shook my head and realized that my eyes were open, it was just pitch black in the room. It was a dream. I had dreamed of my wife and daughter again. I heard their voices, I felt their presence. But it was just vivid echoes of the dream.

“I’m okay, just a bad dream,” I yelled back to Mom.

I lay back on the bed and was startled by a flash of light. The storm was here.

All through the evening before, we could see the line of clouds march from the West.

I had always mocked the weathermen on television. They didn’t seem to know what was going to happen any more than the average person. Now I missed the general information they could provide.

Was the storm merely a line of thunder that would go past us overnight or would it be a system that would be with us for days? Would we have high winds, tornadoes or hail?

Of all of those, hail scared me the most. In the past, hail would have meant an irritating phone call to the insurance agent and a trip to the body shop. Maybe I would have to climb a ladder and check for damage to the roof.

Now, hail meant we could lose some of our crop. Losing our crop would mean starvation and more people in graves.

I grew restless as I considered what could happen, so I left the bed and went to the window. The storm silenced the normal sounds night brought to life and performed a symphony of its own. The sound of wind combined with the creaks, whistles, and thumping of the trees and buildings.