Eric Walters - The Rule of Three

I started running, my legs moving almost as fast as my head. It was all downhill, and gravity was working in my favor. It was good that something was finally moving in my favor. I passed by people, running too fast to stop, too occupied to talk even if I did stop. I had to get home as soon as I could and tell Herb and Mom what I was thinking.

I slowed down as I came to Herb’s house and then stopped. I needed to gather my breath and my thoughts. It was important for me to tell him my idea as calmly as possible. No feelings, no emotions, just an idea. I knocked on the door and there was no answer. I knocked again and Herb came to the door, rubbing his eyes. I’d forgotten about him trying to get some sleep. He motioned for me to enter. The hall was lined with paintings that he’d gathered in his time working around the world. My father always joked that it was like having a multicultural gallery in the neighborhood.

“We need to talk,” I said.

“Sure, come on in.”

“No, I want my mom to be there, too. Can you come back over… please?”

“Of course. I’ll be right there.”

“Thanks.”

Inside our place I heard Danny’s voice coming from the kitchen. He and Rachel were sitting at the table eating dry cereal and my mother was puttering in the cupboards. Obviously she hadn’t gone to sleep. I needed my mother to be part of the conversation but I didn’t want the twins to be involved.

“Hey, can you guys take your breakfast upstairs? I need to talk to Mom.”

“Well, good morning to you, too,” Rachel said.

“Yeah, good morning. Now go away. I need Mom, and Herb is coming back over.”

“And who exactly elected you king?” Danny asked.

“Nobody.” Just like nobody had elected Herb to be king and make decisions for them. “Please, guys, it’s important.”

“Was it so hard to be polite?” Danny said. He stood up and grabbed his bowl of cereal. “I’ll eat and watch— Wait, there’s no TV.”

“Is it about Dad?” Rachel asked. Danny came over to her side. They both looked at me with a worried expression, and Mom turned around to stare at me, too.

“No, it isn’t. I just need to talk to them alone.”

“Why can’t we hear what you’re going to talk about?” Rachel asked.

“It’s important, and it doesn’t really concern you.”

“If it’s important, then it does concern us,” Danny said.

Rachel looked like she was close to tears. I felt awful that I was the cause—no, the trigger —of that happening again.

“Rachel, you have nothing to worry about,” my mother said. She reached out and placed a hand on Rachel’s head.

“Please don’t lie to me,” she said. “I know we have lots to worry about.”

“We’re not stupid,” Danny said. “We know things are bad.”

“We just want to know how bad, and how much worse it’s going to get,” Rachel added.

My mother took a deep breath. She was stalling for time to try to answer a question that really didn’t have an answer.

“Look, nobody knows much right now,” I said. Maybe it was better to have a half-truth coming from me. “But I know Mom will tell you once things have sorted out a little. Okay?”

They both nodded. I had a feeling that while they said they wanted the truth, what they really wanted was a reassuring lie. I’d give it to them.

“You know that with Captain Mom living here nothing is going to happen to us.” I smiled—a forced smile—and they both smiled back. I wasn’t sure whether their smiles were any more genuine than mine or whether they were just agreeing to our little deal to provide and accept reassurance. I really didn’t care. They got up and left the room, already engaged in an argument about gathering water.

There was a tap on the window and, before we could answer, Herb walked in through the open sliding door. He nodded a greeting to both of us.

Interestingly he didn’t look as old and frail as he had only an hour ago. Was that because he got some sleep or was his looking old just part of an act, getting us to feel sorry for him? I didn’t know, but I was sure he was capable of doing that. I’d seen him with people and watched enough to know what an actor he could be.

I now had the stage, but wasn’t sure of the words in my performance. I sat down, trying to find the way to express what I was thinking. I wasn’t sure of everything, but I knew where to start.

“I agree with the things Herb has told us,” I said. “I know he’s right.”

Herb nodded. I thought I saw a slight reaction, a relaxation, in his neutral expression.

“The food in the store and in people’s homes isn’t going to be enough to last until this is over unless it ends really soon… and I don’t think it’s going to.” I paused. “Just like I know we can’t save everybody in the world.”

“I’m glad you understand,” Herb said.

“I understand that. I just don’t agree with what you’re saying we have to do and how we have to do it.”

“If you agree with my premise, you have to agree with my conclusions,” Herb said.

“No I don’t,” I said forcefully. “Just because things are desperate and people are getting ruthless doesn’t mean we have to be ruthless. We don’t have to abandon all of those people.”

I braced myself, waiting for his response.

“Adam, I value your opinion and ideas. If you have a better plan I want to hear it.”

“It’s not really a plan as much as an idea of a plan.”

“We need to explore all options. Tell us and maybe we can all fill in the blanks. Let’s hear it,” Herb said.

I was expecting him to argue, to tell me I was wrong, that I was nothing but some stupid kid, but not this.

Okay, now I had to speak. “I don’t think we have to move to the farm. We can stay here.”

“Aside from security issues, where would the food come from for all of these people?” he asked.

“Before all the houses were built here, this used to be a farm—the soil has to be good.”

“Soil that’s now covered with pavement and houses,” Herb said.

“And a soccer field, school yards, the field under the electrical towers, the playground, the parks, and everybody’s front yards and backyards. There are acres and acres of land, probably as much as there is at the Peterson farm.”

“Most of those acres are fenced off into little sections,” Herb noted.

“But they don’t have to be. Those fences could be taken down, and that material could be used to build a perimeter fence that could surround the entire neighborhood. Why couldn’t we grow food on all of that land the way the farm grows food?”

“The farm has a tractor and mechanization to help grow food,” Herb said.

“But none of that is going to last. You said it yourself—the Petersons are going to be forced off, maybe killed, the place looted. What if we asked the Petersons to come here to live and bring all their equipment, to help turn the land into farmland and the people into farmers?”

“Even if we could grow enough food for everybody, that doesn’t mean we can defend what we grow,” Herb said. “Putting up perimeter fences for defense would work only if you had enough trained people to guard those fences.”

“We have enough people, and we have the skilled people who can train enough people.” I turned to my mother. “You could train people, right?”

“I could train them, but I couldn’t necessarily equip them. We have a limited number of weapons.”

“There are a limited number of guns, but what about other weapons—things like bows and arrows and clubs and bats?”

“I don’t think those would be very effective,” my mother said.

“I’ve seen what a group of people with no more than machetes and clubs can do, for better or worse,” Herb said. “Alternate weapons can be effective when mixed with trained personnel with guns, night-vision goggles, some body armor, and perhaps a mix of explosives.”