A Will To Survive

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Twenty-Eight

After the bombshell Scott lays on Sissy is dealt with, at least temporarily, it is nice to get back to less stressful concerns. The strawberry shortcake is a huge success. Sissy again dips into the gifts she set aside for the kids “just in case” and comes up with several things Sarah and Bekah really enjoy as birthday gifts. Everyone stays up later than usual and Scott uses some of their hoarded propane fuel to keep a lantern running after the power goes off mid-way through a heated game of Uno for both light and some heat.

The next morning everyone is slightly bleary-eyed from the unusually late night, but everyone is still up at their new normal time of daybreak. So much manual-labor has to be accomplished when the power is down, they really cannot afford to sleep any daylight hours away.

It is funny, the new paradigm of working during daylight and sleeping during the dark hours has turned out not to be that difficult for most people to adjust to. With the curfew for both individuals and businesses, as well as the crowd restrictions, there isn’t exactly a lot to do when the sun goes down. Changing their schedule has also helped save on fuel and batteries. After Sissy sees Scott and the other men off for another long day, she continues to think about the various changes that they have had no choice but to accept.

The power going up and down is a pain. It would have been nice to have a consistent schedule to operate by, but that isn’t likely to happen any time soon. You just learn to keep water containers topped off and to waste as little as possible. Food leftovers aren’t really a problem, there is a lot less waste in general than there had been prepandemic, at least in Scott and Sissy’s neighborhood. Foods that require refrigeration are rarely available, and when they are they are used up as quickly as possible. Most people’s refrigerators and freezers are now just nothing more than glorified water coolers. Laundry continues to be the bane of many households. There just is no easy way to do any amount of laundry without the power on. From water to agitation to rinsing, then hanging and drying, keeping clothes clean is very labor intensive.

Of course, food availability is something everyone is anxious about, even for families that have prepped. “Preppers” as the news tends to call them – like they are some separate species of humans – started using up their preps as early as two weeks after the first illnesses were reported. Three days to two weeks of preps simply was not enough and did little more than help the markets stave off collapse for a few extra days. Those that had taken their prepping up to three months have also found out that it depended on the weather and their geographical location as to how easy it was to get re-stocked after their supplies ran low. Now the six-month preppers have seen an end to their long-term supplies. Many, like Sissy’s family, are trying to supplement their supplies with home-grown produce and foraging practices, but because it is only March, a lot of them are just beginning to set seedlings up for their spring garden. Some locations in the US still see a significant amount of snow – at least enough to delay planting – well into April and sometimes beyond.

People are learning to operate on a lot fewer calories than most people had prepandemic. Sissy is thankful that she had prepped as much as she had before everything hit the fan. Between the long term preps, the fresh foods that she is growing, and the barter items that her husband is bringing in, her last inventory shows that she will be able to stretch that out several months longer. Her personal concern is still for the lean months of the summer when it is too hot to grow most edible garden produce in her neck of the woods.

Fuel and transportation costs continue to be a crisis. Many refineries are shut down, either due to staffing or equipment failures. Those that are still running, are operating well below capacity simply because there isn’t’ enough crude oil coming in. Gasoline is extremely expensive, now going for a minimum of $10.00 per gallon if it is even available. In some areas, like California and many northern states, if private citizens can find fuel to buy it is at least double that price. Many corner gas stations have closed down their pumps. Alternative fuels are not doing any better. Most of this year’s corn crop is earmarked for heading off mass starvation here in the US. That means that even if the ethanol plants could be up and running, there simply isn’t anything for them to process, not to mention the fact it takes a lot of energy to create ethanol making uneconomical to produce. The same is true of bio-diesel. Bio-diesel is primarily a recycled product . . . no used cooking oil to recycle, no bio-fuel.

There are rumors of some “white lightening” manufacturing going on further south where the sugarcane crops grow. Sugarcane, like many starch-to-sugar plants such as corn and potatoes, can be converted into homemade liquor. The higher proof the resulting liquor is, the easier it is to use as a fuel. Local law enforcement usually looks the other way so long as the stills are being used to create "fuel.” But, if they are making drinking liquor then they get shut down pretty quickly. There is some corruption, like kickbacks and bribes to keep from getting raided, but most people are careful not to stir up trouble. It is too hard to come by replacement parts for busted stills. And no one wants to draw the attention of local gangs who have made attempts to monopolize this cottage industry.

Some of the most difficult changes though have been of a social nature. Families must unite on a constructive level to get through difficulties. The pandemic crisis is really highlighting some of the problems in marriages and parent/child relationships. Single parent families struggle even more than before. It isn’t very “liberated” to admit, but a woman alone, or even worse a woman alone with children, runs a far greater security risk than does a two parent or two adult household. It isn’t about finances, it is about the realities of the physical logistics of survival.

There are people – both male and female – who are taking advantage of the situation. But there are also marriages and relationships that have been saved by the enforced time and proximity faced in SIP and quarantine. Then there are the creative approaches where more than one adult, some with children, team together in a communal setting that has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with survival. Sissy wonders how long these relationships of convenience will last once the pandemic and the subsequent economic upheaval are over. Only time will tell.

As Sissy sits on the porch to take a break and enjoy a cool, orange blossom scented breeze wafting out of the grove, she realizes that overall – at least in this neck of the woods – life still progresses in similar ways to what it had before. You love, you work, you strive to provide something better for your family and yourself. The pandemic is a temporary event with a finite ending at some point, even if no one knows when that is yet. There will be repercussions to deal with afterwards, but even then people will survive and some will strive for success and some will allow life to just take them where it will.

Maybe tonight, if any of the local stations are up and running, they will sit and listen to what is happening outside of their city. Sissy says “maybe” because her attitude is that it is good to stay informed, but tired people need rest and lately the news isn’t very restful. She is still very careful of her family’s health as she doesn’t consider any of them back to one hundred percent yet, not even herself.

Later, as the family sits down after a dinner of Bean and Vegetable Burritos created from homemade flour tortillas, canned pinto beans, and vegetables from their garden, they turn the solar radio on and try to pick up the closest radio station which is WUSF 89.7.

They can’t raise that station at all so realize that the power outage more than likely stretches all the way to the main USF campus. This is bad news because the nearest hospital, University Community Hospital (UCH), is directly across from the university. All of those tents in the triage units have likely lost their power. Luckily there is a full moon tonight and the sky is fairly bright. When the power goes out and there is no moon, pitch black doesn’t begin to describe how dark it gets.

Scott skips back up the dial to WRBQ 104.7. It is a popular radio station from prepandemic days that played a mix of music from the 70s, 80s, and 90s. Though part of a large corporation - CBS Radio Broadcasting – and affiliated with radio stations across the country, they are still very community-minded and their business continuity plan reflects this as well as an unusual commitment to their staff. One of the disc jockeys that has been in the bay area since the mid-70s is also part of the station’s management team. He quickly organized the staff, and most of their families now live and work out of the station building on Gray Street.

They park the radio dial just in time to hear the announcer come on and say “This is your nightly, in-depth news report broadcast from Q105, serving communities in the Tampa Bay area.”

In local news:

You can expect tighter gas rationing at the pump within the week. Gas purchases will be restricted to ten gallons per visit, down from the 15 gallons that it has been since November. Gas stations that are still in business are being encouraged to reserve at least one pump for walk-up customers. Safety Note: Walk-up customers are reminded that they must use appropriate fuel containers.

A local man is trying to make the legal case that using deadly force against individuals in the process of stealing from a family’s garden falls under the same laws that allow a home owner to use deadly force against an intruder that enters their home; or the new Looter Laws. The man points out that in these catastrophic times when what a family gets from their garden can make the difference between life and starvation, stealing from the garden is a deadly threat and a homeowner has the right to respond accordingly. To the consternation of several civil rights groups, this movement is receiving wide support through out the state, including the support of many law enforcement agencies and private citizens’ groups.

All of the bay area Bank of America branches have converted to drive-up-only facilities. They follow several other banks in this area who have been forced to close their customer service areas in the wake of last month’s rash of gang-style bank robberies. A statement directly from B of A headquarters in Charlotte, NC states that while Bank of America understands the inconvenience this may pose to some customers, it is a necessary step to ensure the safety of customer assets as well as respond to new OSHA work environment regulations. The statement continues further by encouraging all current B of A customers to take advantage of their broad range of online banking services.

According to a spokesman for the Florida Department of Environmental Protection, the bay area can expect to see an increase in haze and a lowering of air quality as the fire in south Florida continues uncontained. The fire is believed to have started in a mobile home community when a gas grill exploded. The fire quickly spread through the closely spaced trailers of the retirement village and has now engulfed over 100 acres of homes just outside Naples, FL. Cool, damp weather is preventing the fire from spreading too rapidly. The National Guard is assisting in evacuation efforts and local volunteers are constructing firebreaks in an attempt to prevent the fire from reaching the Picayune Strand State Forest. Picayune Strand is home to the only stable population of panthers east of the Mississippi, one of the few native wild cat populations apparently unaffected by the current panflu strain.

In other areas of the state:

School closures are again under discussion. Legislators are preparing to vote on an emergency measure that would shut down the public school buildings at least through August. This same measure would transfer classroom teachers to positions with the FLVS and the public broadcasting classroom system. If the measure passes, parents will be responsible for transferring and registering their children with the appropriate district program office. The Florida Education Association (FEA) and the National Education Association (NEA) are offering limited support to the changes as long as all teachers currently employed are given positions within the new system at the same pay and benefits as their previous position.

To address the 180 classroom days per school year required by Florida law, the current academic year will run non-stop through October of this year. The next academic year will follow immediately on its heels and continue until a 2nd 180 classroom days have been completed. At that point, a return to a more traditional school calendar is expected.

Universities and community colleges around the state are addressing their students’ needs with the same creativity. Starting with their summer semesters, the online class list will be expanded. USF has also announced plans to offer lecture courses as downloads for Blackberries and mp3 players. Many universities will offer multi-media lectures in real-time and for replay using programs like Windows Media Player and Quick Time. HCC’s courses that utilize WebCT will more than quadruple.

A “volunteer for food” program called S.H.A.R.E. is being used as a model in the process of revamping and combining several state-level assistance programs. This is being done so that program abusers are weeded out and more people can be served in a wider geographic area. Participants will use volunteer hour vouchers to “buy” items from the program’s mobile grocery stores. The amount of food or household items available to each household will be directly determined by the number of volunteer hours that the family earns. There will be a minimum number of hours required to participate in the program, as well as required service hours in the agricultural division. Vouchers will have expiration dates 60 days after issuance. People currently receiving assistance will automatically be enrolled in the new program. People that have been on waiting lists or those who would like to apply to participate should call the assistance program office at 1-888-200-1234 for more details.

In other news, the State’s Office of Vital Statistics has reported the latest pandemic casualty figures. The numbers are disheartening. Despite stringent mitigation measures that have been in place since the beginning of the pandemic, the latest figures for a statewide population of nearly eighteen million stands at 71,159 dead. This figure only includes confirmed fatalities from pandemic influenza. Deaths for other reasons, such as from violence and infrastructure collapse, as well as for other infectious and/or chronic diseases, have not been released.

The CDC has released tentative, nationwide death figures as well. The national death total stands at 3,371,283 for pandemic influenza. When asked whether they would release ancillary death totals, a source inside the CDC who wished to remain anonymous since they were not authorized to speak to the media, stated that the true number of deaths from associated infrastructure problems would not be known until months after the pandemic had officially been declared over.

Also in national news, everyone is reminded that while a moratorium on federal income taxes is in effect, tax forms themselves must still be filed.

Federal investigators have turned in final reports on why New York City has failed to respond to every mitigation procedure imposed since the beginning of the pandemic and how this failure has affected surrounding areas. CBS and Clear Channel Broadcasting are teaming up and will offer a synopsis of this report once it becomes public.

In other health news, authorities are reporting dozens of cases of trichinosis have been popping up around the country. Trichinosis is a food-borne disease caused by a microscopic parasite. Animals such as pigs, dogs, cats, rats and many wild animals (including fox, wolf and bear) may harbor the parasite. When humans eat improperly cooked meats, they can become infected with the parasite. Many people have been forced to hunt to supplement their family’s diet. Inexperienced hunters are believed to be the primary culprit behind the sudden upswing in cases. The symptoms of trichinosis usually start with fever, muscle soreness, pain and swelling around the eyes. Thirst, profuse sweating, chills, weakness and tiredness may develop. Chest pain may be experienced since the parasite may become imbedded in the diaphragm (the thin muscle separating the lungs from abdominal organs). The incubation period varies depending upon the number of parasites in the meat and the amount eaten. It can range from five to 45 days but is usually 10 to 14 days.

The US Meteorological Society has issued its yearly hurricane prediction. Its looks like pandemic-driven infrastructure failure is not the only thing that will interrupt utilities this summer. Scientists are saying they expect to see 17 named storms, 9 of them hurricanes. Of the nine, five are expected to be category three or greater.

In international news:

Reporters from within Asharq Alawsat newspaper report tribal and sectarian feuding through out the Middle East. The only common theme appears to be general belief that the “Zionist West” either orchestrated the pandemic for its own ends or is using the pandemic to subdue the rest of the world. Unfortunately, desperation and sectarian pressures are leading many to buy into the propaganda. Already many western interests and embassies have been destroyed during demonstrations. The US remains at a critical security-threat level in response to intelligence of several credible threats.

The WHO reports worldwide fatalities have surpassed initial predictions. With no end to the pandemic in sight, a vaccine is becoming more and more important.

And that is your nightly news report.

Reminder: City of Tampa Utilities has issues a boil-water order that will remain in effect for the foreseeable future. For other community news, be sure and tune into Q105 on the quarter hour.


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Ship’s Log

Bekah asked me today why do all of my entries seem to be about food. I’ve looked back at this journal and agree that a lot of my entries are about cooking, eating, or gardening; but its an exaggeration to say ALL. Its just that part of our survival plan is my job. Food seems to be a preoccupation of everyone to a certain extent.

Oh sure, there are guys like Barry and his son whose primary thoughts seem to always turn to security issues. I don’t fault them for it either. But they sure wouldn’t be able to think as clearly if the didn’t have partners who thought about their stomachs for them.

I don’t mean to sound disgruntled, I’m not really. I would write about other things more often if I had time. For me though, I seem to spend the bulk of my time growing food, preparing food, trying to make the food we have more interesting or go further, etc. Even though I’m so tired of it all at the end of day, its still mostly what I think about; reviewing today, preparing for tomorrow.

So, to keep myself from sounding completely obsessed I’ll try harder to mention other things. For tonight however introspection time is over; I’m tired and its bedtime. -- Sissy

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The news last night wasn’t the most heartening Scott and Sissy has heard, but life goes on. The hurricane prediction makes them nervous but since hurricane season doesn’t start until June 1st and there isn’t a whole lot they can do about the weather anyway, they decide to focus on what they can do. Today’s task is reorganizing all of the things that Scott has brought in from barter and the produce from their garden.

However, Scott and James decide to first see if Barry or any of the other neighborhood men want to walk to the gas station two miles away to pick up another 15 gallons of fuel before the restrictions take effect. It is always better to go in groups if you are walking, especially if you are going to the store or gas station. Scott knows he could take the van but then he would have to waste gas waiting in the longest lines. Walk-up lines are much faster and shorter.

If it is like the last few times Scott has waited in line for fuel, they will be gone all morning. While Sissy packs some snacks and a couple of water bottles, Scott puts his weapons permit in his pocket and straps on his side arm.

There are a couple of people in the neighborhood that still insist on making sarcastic comments about the “wild west” or even rude comments about “redneck hicks” when Scott and a couple of other men carry their weapons. Barry likes to irritate them further by wearing a cowboy hat and doing an imitation of John Wayne or Clint Eastwood. But it is these same people who importune the gun owners to go to the store with them or take the night shifts at the neighborhood garden. The hypocrisy of it drives Scott nuts.

Thinking of all the gardening she needs to get done today, Sissy gives Scott and James a kiss as she entreats them to be careful, and to keep their masks, gloves and goggles on. She then heads out to the backyard to do a busy round of planting. Today Sissy is excited because she is planting corn! Not just corn but a number of other things she hopes will finally yield enough for her to start having some left over for preserving. She is also going to ask Mr. Jones if he knows of any empty space in the neighborhood where they can plant popcorn. Sissy knows you can’t plant some varieties of corn near each other or they don’t produce correctly. Popcorn is one that needs to be planted far enough away from sweet corn so that they can’t cross-pollinate.

First thing Sissy does is harvest the last of the mustard and collard greens to clear up that portion of the garden for new plants. The weather is really warming up and the greens are starting to get bitter. She also harvests some broccoli and lettuce; both have done fairly well all things considered. The first of her Chinese cabbage looks like it will be ready to harvest in the morning so tomorrow’s lunch will likely be homemade egg rolls. Lastly she pulls a whole row of beets. She is pretty sure she can pickle some beets tonight, keep some for her family and send a container to Mr. Jones who loves pickled beets nearly as much as she does and has been a real help in the neighborhood. Its nice to know they have enough that they can occasionally show their appreciation by sharing.

Sissy takes everything in so the girls can start cleaning them. She tells Rose to bring out the beet tops when they are finished.

Rose grins and says, “Suckerrrrr!”

“Oh hush,” says Sissy, blushing.

The girls all laugh as she heads back outside. They have good reason to tease her a bit. She is going to feed the beet tops to the gopher tortoises and peacocks that live in the orange grove. There have always been gopher tortoises in the grove, but the peacocks moved in a just a couple of weeks ago. Their cry is loud enough to wake the dead, and scary enough to put the newly risen back in the grave; especially if you don’t know what it is you are hearing. A peacock call sounds like a woman’s tortured cry.

Yeah, she is probably a sucker for feeding critters that aren’t even hers, but she is going to do it anyway. She likes to watch them, and it doesn’t hurt that it keeps them out of her garden. So far, peacocks aren’t falling ill from the animal strain of the pandemic flu. Sissy isn’t foolish enough to let the kids mess with them or their dropped feathers, but she isn’t ready to run them out of Dodge with a BB gun yet either.

As she returns to gardening, Sissy is so glad Scott found all of those containers in one of the abandoned apartments. The woman living there must have intended on using them for something, or had looted them herself, but then had found them too bulky to take when her family decided to leave. Either way, 50 large flowerpots with their price tags still on them is suspicious. But she wasn’t going to turn up her nose at them either. They are a welcome addition to her resources. The family actually kept just 30 of them and left the rest for Barry and Tom.

It has been a lot of trouble to get all of these pots filled with dirt without making huge potholes in the orange grove. Luckily their rear neighbor offered them some dirt from around her pond area if they would dig some out for her as well. It was a good trade. The dirt from the banks of the large pond is full of organic matter and mixes well with the sand from the orange grove. Sissy further enriches the mixture by adding some compost. She finishes the mixture off by adding some of her other gardening supplies like perlite and a little slow release fertilizer. Sissy is sparing with the fertilizer. There won’t be any more where that came from for a long time.

Into the pots Sissy plants another round of garbanzo beans, lima beans, garden huckleberry, husk tomatoes (aka ground cherry), different kinds of peppers, radishes, and several different varieties of tomatoes. The tomatoes are very important. Sissy stocked up on a lot of tomato products - spaghetti sauce, salsa, juice, paste, stewed, etc. – but at the rate the family uses them, they won’t last out the year. She really needs to be able to can some more. At least her edible landscaping continues to do well. This month she plants nasturtium, which makes a great addition to salads. The green seed pods are also good for making Poor Man’s Capers, which lend really good flavors to stews and soups. Just as she plants the last tomato seedling, Scott and James return.

“Perfect timing! Were you able to get fuel?” Sissy asks.

“Yep. But they had already changed the restrictions to 10 gallons. Got lucky though, they were letting every walk-up have 10, which meant that we were able to bring back 20 gallons between James and I. Good thing I brought the extra container, huh?”

“Yes dear. You are da man,” Sissy giggles. “Its also a good thing James insisted on bringing the little red wagon,” she laughs “or y’all woulda been a lot longer getting home. How many went and thought to bring some wheels this time?”

“We had six men and two boys. Tom got his son out of the house. He said the boy won’t let his mom and little brother out of his sight since they were all so sick. Boy nearly panicked and wouldn’t go because no one would be there to take care of them “in case.” He was impatient and in a rush to get home the whole time. He nearly hyperventilated when we had to wait for a train to go by. Tom is really worried about the kid. He said he was having anxiety attacks pretty regularly.”

“There are going to be a lot of people that can use some behavioral counseling when this is over with. I’m so not sorry we missed the on-air breakdown of that DJ the other night. Barry’s wife said it was awful,” Sissy said, recounting the episode for Scott.

“Yeah, several people in the neighborhood are talking about that. Can’t be any worse though than that doctor that put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger in the middle of that live, televised statement by the CA governor. A lot of kids around here saw it because they were supposed to analyze it for a social studies assignment. Whatcha wanna bet they don’t assign any more live broadcasts?”

Shaking her head at the vagaries of life Sissy says, “For now we can only do what we can do and see to our own. The girls should have lunch just about ready and then I need you guys to move some stuff around for me.”

Lunch is a pasta dish made from ramen noodles and canned ham with a fresh salad from the head of lettuce Sissy just harvested that morning. Everyone has a good appetite. Afterwards Rose volunteers to do all the clean up if Sarah and Bekah will get Johnnie down for his nap so that she can finish a paper she needs to submit as soon as the power comes back on. Scott and James go out to help Sissy with the rest of the planting.

“Now let’s put those bathtubs to use that you brought back from those burned out apartments.” One of the runs Scott and his crew have made was for a property owner who had several apartments burn when someone was trying to cook over some candles. The whole complex didn’t go, but six of the apartments are now uninhabitable, primarily due to smoke damage. The men had been paid – in cash no less – to clean out the units and seal them off. The deal was they could haul away anything so long as it didn’t compromise structural integrity. They had brought back parts from ovens; refrigerators; washers and dryers; a couple of doors and door hardware; wire and conduit that could be salvaged for something; 7 toilets; and six bathtubs.

Tom Cox took the toilets. He thinks he has figured out a way to build an outhouse that feeds directly into where his septic tank clean out opening is. If it works, he is going to see if anyone else would be willing to barter with him to install the system at their home.

Barry took the washer and dryer parts. He is going to try and cobble together a second set of appliances for his wife and daughter in law. They have started taking in Mr. Jones’ laundry as a thank you for all he did while they were down ill. Barry also wants to try and fix Mrs. Cleary’s dryer for the same reason. Most people in the neighborhood hang their laundry out to dry, but there are days when the weather makes this impossible. Scott thinks it’s a great gesture on Barry’s part if he can pull it off.

As for the bathtubs, they are about to be turned into part of a raised bed garden. In two of the tubs Sissy will plant sweet potatoes. In the other three she is going to try and plant some corn. In various places in their yard they are also planting cucumbers, peanuts, pumpkins, summer and winter squash varieties, and several different types of melons. “Oh,” Sissy thinks to herself, “it will be so wonderful if all of the plants produce. And I’m really glad that I was thought to make sure and get Florida-friendly varieties.” Sissy really was smart about picking varieties that can withstand the heat and humidity of the Deep South. For example, in addition to the traditional orange pumpkin varieties she made sure to get seeds for Seminole pumpkin and Calabaza squash. The Seminole pumpkin looks kind of odd – it isn’t even orange – but the fruit sets well in Florida’s weather and is sweeter than butternut squash. The Calabaza is kind of a cross between a pumpkin and a winter squash variety. The only drawback is the fact that its outer shell can be even harder than Hubbard squash and sometimes you have to use a meat cleaver and hammer to split it open. Its really, really good baked though and if Sissy has to do a lot of pit cooking a tough shelled squash like Calabaza will be perfect. If everything the family plants produces well, Sissy feels fairly certain there will be enough left over to preserve for off-season eating.

Sissy still can’t get the idea out of her head that they are using their preps faster than she originally anticipated. Sure, they are going to last longer than she had originally figured, primarily because of the garden. But, what about the economic recovery period post-pandemic?

Sissy manages to save some seeds from what they’ve grown following directions she found on the Internet; but she has no idea if they will germinate, especially the ones from the hybrid varieties. On the flu forums she read prepandemic, some folks were going on about heirloom varieties being more reliable for that. She wishes she had paid more attention to what that meant. It might be in one of her gardening books, but she hardly has time for any kind of research these days. Her life is already one long experiment as it is.

Take the fact that she continues to watch the unusual fruit that she planted in her landscaping last year to see if it will produce. Right now the Cherry of the Rio Grande bushes are blooming. From the little tag that was on the bush when she bought it, it can get up to fifteen feet tall but you’d never guess it looking at the scrawny things now. It’s a wonder it can even hold up the blooms it has. If all goes according to plan, she should see small, red, one-inch fruit in about three weeks. The fruit is supposed to taste like a traditional sweet cherry. Not wanting to experiment on Scott or the kids until she knows something is safe, she’ll be stuck as the guinea pig.

Overall, Sissy feels that she is fairly well informed about the various aspects of helping her family survive these trying times. But her goal is to do more for them than to help them just to survive today. She wants to make sure they survive the future as well. And not just survive, but have the ability to triumph over whatever life throws their way. She does worry about being over confident though. It seems just when they reach a certain comfort level, another curveball comes their way.

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Poor Man's Capers

After the blossom falls off, pick the half-ripened (still green) nasturtium seed pods. Continue picking as long as the seed crop continues. Drop them in a boiled and cooled mixture of:

1 quart white wine vinegar
2 teaspoons pickling salt
1 medium onion, thinly sliced
1/2 lemon, thinly sliced
1 teaspoon pickling spice
1 clove garlic, smashed
4 to 6 peppercorns
1/2 teaspoon celery seed

Keep the mixture refrigerated and use the nasturtium pickles in sauces, dips, casseroles, soups, stews and as edible decorations.

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Ship’s Log

The few oranges left on the trees are getting really kind of ick. Mr. D left a note for James to pull anything left on the trees he is tending because the next storm would probably knock them to the ground anyway. There were enough that we got nearly one gallon of juice, and the kids ate the leftover pulp for lunch.

Scott is going on a run tomorrow and I decided to just go ahead and make a big batch of citrus-ade.

To the orange juice I added a half-pint of lime juice and a half-pint of lemon juice. I then added a whole cup of sugar even though it is so dear now. First it was too tart and then it was too sweet. I finally fixed it by adding one of my remaining small bottles of club soda.

I split it between two jugs and put one in the frig and one in the freezer. The kids will be able to have the one in the frig tomorrow with a light lunch and I’ll send the frozen one to work with Scott. It’ll be thawed, but still cool, by the time he is ready for it.

While I’m sad to see the last of the fresh oranges go, we’ve got other things coming in, even if not in the same abundance. I’ve still got canned fruits and juices. One of tomorrow’s tasks will be to check all of the expiration dates on what I have. We can’t afford to allow anything go bad. Waste not, want not. - Sissy

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Thirty

A horrific cacophony of rumbling and screeching wakes everyone at what turns out to be one in the morning. Every window in the house rattles hard in their frames. Johnnie immediately wakes shrieking and the other four kids run to their parents’ bedroom scared as well. Scott and Sissy throw on some clothes and go outside about the same time as other people in the neighborhood are pouring into the street. Just NNW of their street there is an orange glow in the sky. The fire lights the night just enough to see there is also black smoke billowing up.

“Explosion you think?”

“There ain’t nothing over there that could explode like that.”

“And what was all that racket before the explosion?”

“Train derailment.”

“Train derailment?! You think?”

“That’s the direction of where the tracks cross from the west side of US41 to the east.”

“There’s a gas station over there too.”

“But its been closed for months now.”

“Who’s for walking up the road to see what it is?”

“But there’s the curfew, and you know how strict they are about that!”

“Curfew hell. If that fire’s gonna come this way I wanna know before its knockin’ on my door.”

About then Barry limps up. “Whoa there. No body better go up there yet. Ain’t you got ears? Listen. That’s automatic weapons fire. You men better get your families hunkered down. Fire might not be the only thing thinking of paying a visit tonight.” Then sirens are added to the load of confusing sounds.

Barry pulls Scott aside and whispers, “If you want my guess someone’s done tried to hijack one of those trains. You know the rumors, they’re carrying everything from food to fuel to gold to vaccine. I bet some knucklehead decided to copycat that incident up in St. Louis. The gangs around here are getting bold enough that they could have gotten stupid.”

“It could be anything. Whatever it is, everyone needs to get off the street. Damn, there goes Vince. He’s heading up the street,” replies Scott.

“Let him go. Some people would rather satisfy their curiosity than use their common sense. He ain’t done nothing but live off his grandparents since he showed up back in October. Doesn’t lift a hand to help them and they gotta be in their 70s. All he does is complain and talk about his big plans that he’s had to put on hold. Guy is a craphead, nobody’s loss if he gets himself shot.”

“Man, Barry, that’s harsh. I thought I was the only one around here with that low an opinion of humanity,” returns Scott.

As the two men head back towards their homes Barry continues, “Yeah, I’m in good company I guess. I don’t know what your excuse is, but I had to get that way after one of my own boys turned out to be a craphead. Trying to get him out and keep him out of trouble with the law . . . no matter what we did or how much money my first wife and I spent he would just turn around and cuss us for ruining his life and do what he had been doing before. It bankrupted us financially and was one of the biggest factors in our divorce. That boy of mine is – crap, maybe was, as I don’t know whether he is dead or alive - just selfish through and through and Vince is just like him.”

Another explosion rocks the night followed by more gunfire and the two men flinch and duck.

Barry hurriedly says, “I ain’t getting home any faster knocking my gums. Look, if things do get bad . . . you are further up the street than I am. If you think you gotta bug out, fall back to my house. We’ll figure it out from there.”

“Thanks. If anything comes your direction first, you all head to our place.”

“Done. See ya.”

Scott, having seen Sissy return to their kids as soon as Barry had pointed out the gunfire, reaches home to find his wife in full Five Star General mode. Sissy has already marshaled James and Rose into installing the plywood and reinforcing braces on the few windows they have been leaving uncovered. Sarah and Bekah are moving bedding into Scott and Sissy’s bedroom.

“Hon, can you help finish covering the windows? Then move those book cases in front of the French doors like we talked about? Girls, when you are done with the bedding, I want you to say in there and keep your little brother calm. I’m going to move some of our bug-out boxes into the bedroom. Rose, James, I want you two to roll the piano in front of the front door and lock the wheels.”

Scott just lets her go to it. He knows this is her way of staying calm. Since early on they have gotten and kept their property pretty secure. Even if nothing comes of this night, he figures this is a good reminder of why they do it and an even better practice exercise. But he has a feeling this isn’t just a drill. As soon as the kids are secured in their parents’ bedroom, Scott douses the lantern and asks the kids to leave their flashlights off. Suddenly there is the sound of several large vehicles rumbling down the road to stop in front of their house.

“Remain indoors. Repeat, lay low and remain in doors. Hostile gunfire in the vicinity. Remain low and indoors,” suddenly blares into the night from a loud speaker, followed by another small burst of gunfire. Scott, peaking through a spy hole he built into the window coverings, sees that the voice is coming from a National Guard vehicle that holds several soldiers with automatic rifles.

“Why aren’t they at the end of the road? Why are they all the way back here?” Sissy asks quietly.

“They might be establishing a perimeter or something like that. I don’t know. Barry said to come to his place if things get bad, but to be honest, I don’t want to drag the kids out and through this. I don’t know what it will come down to. Just be prepared. When was the last time you checked the bug out bags?” Scott whispers back.

“The other day when I was rotating some of my instant mixes. They are packed and ready to go. We’ll just need to grab water. The kids also have a backpack of food and supplies ready to go and then they have a satchel of their personal treasures to throw over their shoulders. I even fixed a bag for Johnnie to carry with a little canteen. Oh God, I pray it doesn’t come down to us leaving this house,” Sissy says nervously.

“I don’t want to either. But you never know. Go and try and get the kids to at least lay down, even if they can’t sleep. They will probably need the rest later on. Especially James. He’s been acting jumpy again. I think Tom’s boy may have set him off with all his paranoia and anxiety about how things might go wrong.”

As Sissy turns to go they hear, “Halt! Keep your hands where I can see them!”

“Wait man! I live here, down the street with my grandparents! Point that gun some place else man! Don’t shoot!”

“Step into the light! Prepare to show your identification!”

Scott says, “That idiot. That’s Vince Johnson. He doesn’t have I.D. to prove he’s living with his grandparents.”

As they watch, Vince is cuffed with a nylon restraint and loaded into the back of a transport holding at least a dozen other people restrained in similar fashion. You can tell, even from a distance, that he is not happy with his treatment or current circumstances at all.

A sudden disturbance from out back sends them to the windows with peep holes on that side of their house just in time to see a couple of uniformed officers wrestle a large man to the ground and put nylon restraints around his wrists and legs. A woman suddenly steps out of the darkest back corner of the yard and begins to point what looks like a gun at the officers.

Without thinking about it, Scott rips down the window cover and screams, “Down!! Woman with a gun behind you!!!” The cops drop just as the woman pulls the trigger. Another cop is on top of her in seconds.

“Oh . . . my . . . God. Was that Barry Jr.?!” Sissy whispers in a shocked voice.

“Yeah. It looked like him.” Scott confirmed.

The uniforms take their prisoners out the side gate while one quickly give a thumbs-up in thanks.

The sporadic gunfire continues nearly ‘til dawn. The kids finally fall into an exhausted sleep. Scott and Sissy lean against each other as the last of their adrenaline drains away. The National Guard truck full of prisoners pulls away, Vince still among them. A mixed team of guardsmen and local law enforcement officers go door to door checking for any collateral injuries.

As the sun clears the horizon, Scott and Sissy cautiously go outside to survey the damage. After a quick look around they think their only damage is a gate swinging on one hinge and a couple of sections of downed fencing. That is until they got around to the west side of their house; the side that faces the grove.

“I can’t believe we didn’t hear that.” Scott says while staring at the damage.

They just look, not truly believing what they are seeing. From the front corner of their house to the back, running in two more or less parallel lines, are small pockmarks. One line runs just below the windows in the concrete block. The other runs above the windows and into the fascia that sides the gable end of the house. Sissy shakes while she tries to take deep breaths to keep hold of herself. Scott just stands looking, getting angrier the longer he looks.

“It has to have happened right before that scuffle in the back yard. Or . . . I don’t know. . . there was so much noise and confusion.”

“That’s our bedroom wall. The kids were in there. I left the kids in there alone,” Sissy says as she finally loses the fight to keep her tears in.

Scott wraps his arms around her and rests his chin on her head until she calms down. Finally finding her anger, Sissy grinds out, “We wanted to protect the kids from being hungry, so we prepped food. We wanted to protect the kids from being thirsty, so we prepped water and figured a way to get more when that ran out. We wanted to protect the kids from being sick so we developed an SIP plan and prepped medicines. We wanted to keep the kids safe so we prepped extra security measures and got to know our neighbors. But how the bloody blue blazes are we supposed to protect them from something like this?!!!”

Just as Scott opens his mouth on a pithy comment, Barry and Barry Jr. come through the side gate. “Well, son of a . . . Holy …. Mother F… Damn!“ Barry stutters but finally just shakes his head. “Sorry Sissy, but my Gawd. I’m assuming no one got hurt or you all would be making more noise. But man, I’m fired up I’m here to tell you, just seeing this!”

As Sissy sputters a tearful laugh at Barry’s antics, Barry Jr. walks over and shakes Scott’s hand. After receiving an affirmative reply to his question about whether every one was OK he says, “The other guy with me, Bill Nelson, said to send his thanks with mine for the warning. I told Dad what you did back here.”

“You’re welcome. You would have done the same had our positions been reversed. So what was this all about anyway?” Scott asks.

“You know how understaffed we are. Since the big sickness its even worse. We’re also dealing with fuel shortages and broken equipment. We’ve had to severely cut back on our patrols. From what we’ve pieced together thus far at some point after dark, someone or a group of someones sabotaged the tracks right there where the train switches from one side to the other. Witnesses said that when the train derailed, a couple of cars slid into that propane store which is what started the explosions. It’s a mess up there. The Lutz Volunteer Fire Department and a couple of other stations in the area are using heavy construction equipment to contain the blazes that are mostly on the west side of US41. We’re lucky there wasn’t anything but residuals in any of the holding tanks.”

“So the big racket was the train derailment and initial explosion. But what was with everything else?”

“Its still under investigation but it looks like a group of people – presumably the same ones that sabotaged the tracks – were intent on looting the train after it was stopped. My guess is the plan started getting out of control when they got a bigger accident than intended. Bill was the one to call it in. He had been on his way home after a two week shift, and was just a half-mile north of the tracks when the train derailed.”

“Unreal. Did anyone ever say what was on the train that they wanted so bad?” Scott asks.

“Some of those we arrested said they’d been told it was food. Others said money.”

“What was on the train?”

“The only thing I’ve seen is machine parts. Bill said he talked to one of the security guys from the train who said it was mostly carrying tractors and spare parts on their way to the ag fields south of here. Y’all are lucky you have a concrete block house. Several houses between here and the tracks are frame and they took a beating.”

Sissy asks, “Oh no. Who and how many injuries?”

“The only fatalities so far as I’ve heard were on the bad guys’ side, and most of them are from the initial derailment when one of the train cars slid into where a group of them were hiding. We’ve got two officers with minor injuries, 12 combatants with injuries, and 6 civilians with injuries. One of them, Mr. D next door, has a crease in his head where a bullet went through his wall. He’s refusing to go to the hospital. All the civilians are refusing to go to the hospital.”

“Can’t say I blame them,” Barry puts in.

Scott says, “Yeah. Truthfully, given all the gunfire we heard last night I would have expected more injuries.”

“No lights,” Barry Jr. says.

“Huh?”

“No electric lights. No one could see what they were shooting at. That’s how we were able to take most of them down. We didn’t bother wasting ammo. We just followed their muzzle flashes.”

“Where did civilians get that kind of fire power?”

“That’s one of the things that’s being investigated. That was some heavy crap that’s for sure. They seemed to have everything but the kitchen sink and a rocket launcher. I gotta get back to the station, just wanted to check in and say thanks. Oh, and let me tell you, that Yucca plant of yours that you have on the front west-side corner of your yard caught two of the combatants for us. That is one heck of a security feature, one of the guys was practically impaled in a couple of places, especially in one particular vulnerable spot if you catch my drift,” Barry Jr. jokes before heading back to his team.

After the men shake hands and part, Scott says that he is going to walk across the grove and make sure Mr. D’s house is secure. Afterwards he is going to go up in the attic and see what kind of damage they have. That will probably take most of the day. They agree to let the kids sleep for as long as they want. Tomrrow morning, after everyone has a full night’s sleep, he’ll mix up some concrete patch and repair the pockmarks in the block work.

“Did you hear what Barry Jr. said?” asks Scott.

“Yeah I did. I checked to make sure that jerk that ran into my Spanish Bayonet plant didn’t break the flower stalk off. I was going to start harvesting those this week,” Sissy answers.

“Well, that wasn’t exactly what I meant but its good to know we didn’t lose the plant. Its been worth every complaint and poke James suffered when he used to mow the lawn. Did we lose any other plants?”

“No thank goodness, at least nothing that I’ve found thus far. That on top of everything else would have just put salt in the wound. Anyway, if it wasn’t about the garden and orchard stuff, what was it you were talking about?” Sissy asks.

“Oh, I was just thinking how ironic it was that for once the power outages worked to our advantage.”

“I never thought of it that way. I guess we have more than a few things to be thankful for. But to be honest, I don’t want any more excitement for a while. I’m craving peace and quiet and boredom something fierce right now.”

“You and me both honey. You and me both.”

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Thirty-One

It’s been a little over three weeks since the night of the train derailment. Three blessedly boring weeks. No exploding propane tanks. No automatic gunfire. No humvees or military transports rumbling up and down the street. About the only excitement there has been is when the kids shrieked – with laughter – when Sissy made “green eggs and ham” omelets for St. Patrick’s day by adding green food coloring to their powdered eggs.

Easter has also passed, but more quietly than in previous years. This suited the Chapman family just fine. They marked the holiday with traditional practices like resurrection rolls and hiding brightly colored plastic eggs for Sarah, Bekah, and Johnnie to hunt. They talked with relatives online to catch up on family news and sent over a basket of plastic eggs for Barry Jr.’s little girls to play with. Barry Jr.’s oldest girl is finally out of bed for most of the waking part of the day. She still tires easily when playing, but at least now she doesn’t just watch her younger sisters from the sidelines. Her appetite has finally returned as well, but she is still rail thin. Their diets don’t have a lot of fat in them. From somewhere Barry’s wife has come up with some meal supplement drinks for kids; it was probably on the black market and Sissy doesn’t really want to know how much they had to pay for them. Sissy used up all of the supplemental shakes that she had stashed when her own family was recovering.

Scott and his crew have made a couple more runs and report that at least in the areas of town that they go, all is quiet. Enough of their jobs pay cash that it is worth the fuel, and enough pay in barter that they don’t have to spend all of their cash. Good deal all around for these times.

And then one night they hear some heartening news. There has been an important break through in the area of vaccines. A trial vaccine is being tested on humans and it appears to work. It is only proving effective against the main pandemic strain, but that is 70+% of current cases. It will still be months before it is available to the general public; manufacturing is at an all-time low. There remain questions about where the vaccine will be deployed first and for whom; but there is now a little more hope on the horizon.

The only cloud is the increasing concern about a terrorist attack. The worry is enough that statements are being issued by bi-partisan groups urging people to be vigilant in their communities and report any suspicious activity to local authorities. “Local authorities” think that is a good joke considering how over-worked and under-staffed they are. They can’t run around investigating every potential lead that comes in. A group of dissidents had been arrested outside of DC, and they did have a cache of illegal weapons, but whether they are part of an imminent attack is still unclear.

The UN, the WHO, and the CDC have formed an unusually united front in their discussion of terrorism. Several delegates have mentioned that there could be sanctions, including being moved to the bottom of any vaccine list, for countries perpetuating acts of terrorism or giving refuge and/or aid to terrorist groups.

On the home front, Scott manages to repair the bullet holes in their block wall with concrete patch. He even manages to paint the wall over with matching paint left over from the original paint job last summer. The patches show in a couple of places, but over all it is better than it had been which is a psychologically helpful thing for the family.

The vinyl fascia takes more ingenuity. Scott fills the holes and cracks with color-matched latex caulk. Up in the attic he patches the plywood side with wood putty. The worst damage though is where the bullets that had gone through the fascia continued into the roof. He uses the wood putty to fill these holes as well. After the putty cures, he paints over the area with some roofing tar. He also tars that area on the shingle side of the roof. Tacking the fence back up and reinstalling the gate hasn’t been that difficult. One of the gate hinges was bent but a hammer and some muscle fixed that. The repairs aren’t perfect, but they don’t look half-bad either and the house is back to being weather tight, which is what really matters.

Now that warmer weather is here, water conservation is even more important. Average rainfall in their area for the month of April is only 1.80 inches. By the end of the month daytime temperatures will average 90 degrees Fahrenheit. This will mean more sweating which requires more fluid replacement in the form of drinking water. This will be especially true whenever the utilities are down.

Watering all the plants by hand takes a lot of their stored water when the power is out. Even when the power is on they try to be frugal and only water when they absolutely have to. Scott tries to figure out an irrigation system, but he isn’t having much luck. For now they are making do, and it is working.

Sissy continues to harvest things from the garden including cabbages, onions, carrots, celtuce, shallots, peas, amaranth, radishes, and snap beans. They also plant cardoon and add consecutive plantings of snap beans, corn, tomatoes, and watermelons to get as much out of the growing season as they can. By checking every day, Sissy manages to harvest nearly three cups of blueberries from the small bushes they had planted just this passed year. Its not much of a harvest but its certainly better than nothing and they hope that the yield will be even more next year. This year, by mixing the fresh berries with some of their remaining dried blueberries, Sissy has enough filling to make two full-sized pies. Without even having to think about it, the family agrees to give one of the pies to Barry’s family. They’ve got as many mouths to feed as the Chapmans do and good friends look out for one another. There is no doubt that Barry and his wife would do the same for them if the situation were reversed.

James, Sarah, and Bekah ingeniously build some “cages” to go over the various edible plants because the raccoons are really getting bold. They have a couple of raccoons that are even coming out during the daytime; they are losing their fear of humans. Mr. D offers them parts of his old hunting dog kennel if they will help him strip the last of the citrus off of his trees. In exchange, Sissy is going to preserve as many quarts of fruit segments of this as she can and offers a share to both Mr. D and Barry and Tom’s families. James has plans to rebuild the kennel over the top of the corn to keep squirrels out, another nuisance animal that is getting out of control.

By the end of the month the citrus trees will have small marble-sized fruit. Some tropical colors are reappearing in the landscape. The hibiscuses are in bloom to replace the azaleas. The smell of confederate jasmine has replaced the smell of orange blossoms. And the bottlebrush tree and bougainvillea bushes are showing themselves to advantage. The mosquitoes are back with a vengeance. And since the pest control companies are not operating, people are beginning to have really bad problems with ants and roaches. That’s Florida for you, but it doesn’t make it any less irritating.

Sissy figures she is pretty lucky. She paid particular attention to the potential problem of insect infestations in her preps. She addresses pests in her garden with organic solutions. She tries to do the same with the insects in the house, but certainly doesn’t say no when Scott sprays with the professional strength stuff he uses at the apartments. Between sprayings, her primary defense is plain old Borax.

Sissy is already harvesting a handful of Cherry of the Rio Grande every day. They aren’t bad either. They have a sweet cherry taste just like the plant tag said they would. She is finding that something is getting into the trees and taking the ripe fruit in the very early morning hours. Hopefully a fruit net placed over the bushes will stop this from happening. The problem with that is the net draws attention to the fact that there is something worth having on the bush. Since it is planted in the front yard and can’t be guarded 24/7, the net may keep the animal marauder out but draw the human marauder variety. Can’t win for losing on some things. All Sissy can do is pick all the ripe fruit every day and hope for the best.

They do have one problem that they aren’t going to be able to avoid much longer. Their kids are growing. Rose isn’t a problem, she reached her full size a couple of years ago and has a decent wardrobe that is still in good repair. Sarah and Bekah are still growing, but there are lots of hand me downs for them to use. Johnnie also has boxes of hand-me-downs and Sissy has patterns and material that she can use to sew if that isn’t enough. But James is down to one pair of pants, two pairs of shorts and a couple of his dad’s old shirts.

Scott has tried to find him something at the neighborhood market but anything available is either way too big or way too small. Scott says he will keep a look out when he is out and about. In the prepandemic months Sissy bought clothes for James that were a size larger thinking that would be enough, but he has already outgrown them. Her plan of last resort is to cut down some of Scott’s jogging clothes, but he really needs jeans for when he works in the grove or helps her with gardening and yardwork. After clothes will come shoes for Bekah and Johnnie, but that is a problem for another day. Sissy is hoping desperately that she can figure out a solution for James before she has to start cutting down Scott’s clothes. She and Scott have had to make adjustments to their own clothing already. It’s one of the downsides to losing so much weight. Nothing fits anyone the way it used to. And hard work and harsh laundry practices are wearing clothes out more quickly than before.

One funny thing has happened. Mrs. Cleary has found a new use for raccoons. She had her husband and Mr. Jones catch and skin a couple that had been targeting the neighborhood garden. Then, following an old “receipt” from her grandmother’s diary, she fried it up and added the meat to the neighborhood stone soup. Some people were leery, but those who did eat it said it just added a mild, gamey kind of taste to the stew. “Meat is meat,” was the most often heard comment.

Mrs. Cleary said the only tricky part was making sure all the glands were cut out the right way. “After that, cooking ‘coon isn’t any different than cooking chicken. And it’s a lot cheaper.”

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Thirty-Two

Things remain relatively quiet in Tampa as April turns into May. After months of pandemic living most people are just too tired and hungry to get up to causing a ruckus. They’ve seen the potential problems with group gatherings. Many have been affected by violence and have no desire or ability to continue the cycle by perpetuating it. That isn’t true of everyone everywhere all of the time, but overall things are definitely calmer than in the opening weeks of the pandemic. Of course, there are random bursts of civil unrest here and there, but for now things remain settled.

Even New York City has finally calmed, due probably in large part to the fact that less than a quarter of the original population remains in the city. A federal investigation into the effects of the mass exodus of New York City reveals the following timeline:

The first confirmed cases within the city were not the result of a foreign national arriving at Newark or JFK airports, but a lowly traveling computer salesman. Upon hearing the news of an impending pandemic while at a convention in Arizona, the salesman – known as NYC Index Case 1 – drove his rented car back to the state as quickly as he could to be with his mother who lived alone in a miniscule apartment in the Bronx. His return was two days before most of the AZ hotel staff where he was staying were quarantined with flu-like symptoms. On the NYC end, the index case was so difficult to pinpoint at first due to the unexpectedness of its origin, and due to the confusion of the quick explosion of cases in “Meals on Wheels” volunteers. This mobile group of people spread the virus much faster and wider than it was ever planned for in even the worst case scenarios.

Within days of the pandemic being a confirmed reality in the continental U.S., a mass exodus of NYC began. This exodus was primarily made up of the wealthy and the middle class who thought they had a place to go outside of the city – cabins in upper New York state, relatives in New Jersey, summer homes in Connecticut, etc. Most roads were quickly un-navigable due to gridlock. The bridges (like the GW, Verrazano, and other river bridges) and tunnels (like the Lincoln and the Holland) were quickly clogged with vehicles. Then, despite exits from the city being closed by the National Guard and local law enforcement – these closures included the ferries and other commercial waterway traffic - “escapees” quickly overran all of the blockades. People also tried to paddle out over the Hudson River in anything that would float.

The outbound NYC refugees poured into places like Ft. Lee, Jersey City, Trenton, Stamford, Bridgeport, Weehawken, Teaneck, Hackensack, Maywood, and Paramus. Many, who had expected to be taken in by family and friends, found themselves forcibly turned away – sometimes at gunpoint. Finding no refuge there, they continued north, south, and west like locusts, staying only long enough to run through an area’s resources or to succumb to infection.

Those people who remained in NYC did so mostly with the misconception that someone somewhere was responsible for filling the gap where they had failed to prepare for a disaster. This despite the fact that many New Yorkers had seen first hand what a catastrophe could mean when they experienced the 9-11 attacks on the World Trade Center. Even near misses by hurricanes, such as the deadly 1938 hurricane that came to be known as the Long Island Express, Carol in 1954, Donna in 1960 and Gloria in 1985 did not convince residents or city planners that having catastrophic preparations in place was a good idea.

Then the power went off. Hospitals failed, as did most public health facilities.

As reality began to set in throughout the city, some continued to wait in vain for help and some started going out and taking what they thought they needed or wanted through uninhibited looting. Everything disappeared quickly. There simply was no more to take. Even getting fresh water was becoming a problem as electricity was required to draw drinking water from reservoirs many miles from the city. Most of the remaining water sources were undrinkable because they were brackish, a mixture of fresh and salt water sources.

There were some neighborhoods that didn’t fall prey to panic and violence, but that was because in such locations there was already a well-established presence by a group or individual. These groups or individuals would brook no interference, no transgressions. They were proof that a strong arm was at least as important as a quick mind in determining who was boss and what rules people were going to follow. Of course, this wasn’t always proof against viral infection, but it at least afforded an illusion of normalcy for those living there. Many apartment buildings became the only island of refuge for their tenants, assuming all of the tenants cooperated with that concept.

When there was no more to take from the shelves, people began to prey on each other. There was some established gang activity but nothing compared to what the West Coast was going through at that time. The problem was that people eventually began to band together to create new gangs; but, congregating together exposed even more people to infection. The gangs offered some protection, but left people vulnerable to violence and infection. Not a good trade.

At this point, the weather hadn’t turned raw yet, but the stench of uncollected garbage and the sick and dying proved too much for many, so there was a secondary exodus from the city with all its accompanying problems. This group was even less equipped than the first that left the city. They had no friends or family they could expect to take them in. They had no resources to take with them. And any resources they expected to find outside of the city were long gone or well protected by those that held them.

Now, even those dedicated few that had remained . . . the health care professionals, local law enforcement, workers at all levels in a wide variety of fields . . . realized that there was nothing more they could do. Those that had not left before now left the city at the tail end of the secondary exodus. This set off another round of widespread violence as the people remaining in the city felt they were being abandoned. There was some attempt by the Federal government and the State of New York to evacuate the elderly, but many simply refused to leave. Some of the ethnic strongholds also refused to evacuate.

Because of the extraordinary amount of violence, the federal government felt it could not afford to risk its own dwindling numbers of personnel and resources to re-supply a city that, by-and-large, refused to do anything but flame like a Roman torch. Some of the worst violence was a result of ethnic and/or religious issues. It was like having miniature versions of the Middle East, Eastern Europe and parts of Africa all rolled into the confines of a dying city.

Then winter weather began to set in. The frail and elderly as well as the young and vulnerable that had thus far escaped both infection and the violence, quickly succumbed to the added problem of winter weather conditions. These fatalities further emptied the city of inhabitants.

Eventually infection rates and attrition due to violence decimated the remaining population of the city. There are still roving – and violent – bands of people, but they are more loosely aligned and can be found primarily outside of the city proper. You would no more walk around New York City alone now than you would have prior to the city-wide clean up led by Rudy Guilliani in the 80s.

With the advent of spring, roof top gardens can be seen by air patrols of the city. There is little chance of producing all the food they need, but at least people are trying. There is also evidence of cooperation within neighborhoods to clear debris from the streets and institute some organization back into their lives. Some neighborhoods have barricaded themselves off from the rest of the city using scavenged material and now rusting and useless cars.

With some semblance of self-control and order now in evidence, the federal government has expressed a hope that they can once again attempt to re-supply the remaining citizens of NYC. Whether this will work, or whether it will spark another round of civil unrest remains to be seen.


Unlike in New York, May is the month of plenty at Scott and Sissy’s home. In another way, it is also a month of worry. The family harvests a bumper crop from their gardening. They bring in burdock, parsnips, potatoes, sunflowers, black eye peas, several varieties of shelling beans, cantaloupes, more Jerusalem artichokes, lima beans, okra, garden huckleberries, husk tomatoes (aka ground cherries), both hot and mild peppers, and the first of the summer squash and tomatoes. The kids have a blast with the sunflowers, but it sure is hard work to keep the squirrels out of them. For all that though, May is the first month they are unable to plant things because of the recommended growing seasons of the seeds they have available to them. It is getting too hot to expect seedlings to survive.

Complicating things further, while May gets a little more rain than April – not much, just an inch – the hot weather is quickly depleting their drinking water reserves. The water that remains in their pool is also evaporating at a quicker rate. The rolling black outs are occurring more often and lasting longer because of increasing energy demands. So far TECO is able to cope, but several smaller electric cooperatives in rural districts are beginning to fail. Scott and Sissy deal with each of these issues as best they can. They have little choice but to deal with the situation.

They can’t change the growing seasons so they are doing the best with what they have already planted. Sissy is preserving everything that they don’t eat fresh. That isn’t as much as Sissy had hoped. She had underestimated the combined effect of a lot of manual labor and loss of utilities. Lots of hard work means a higher caloric need than the 2000 cal/day that she had prepped for. She does pull at least a handful of small, yellow plums off of her dwarf Gulfgold plum tree every day. The tree is looking a little sickly and Sissy worries that she isn’t doing something right. Time to pull out the Florida fruit tree books again. There has to be a remedy for leaf-scald in there somewhere.

The real bonus is that James and Sissy managed to keep the banana trees watered enough that the stalks never dried up. Its been amazing. They’ve managed to get twelve full-sized bunches and that has given them nearly 150 pounds of bananas. Most they ate fresh of course but Sissy did slice a few for drying and used a few more to make banana jam. And the compost is loving those banana peels. The trees are pretty well confined to a corner of their lot near their side door. The kids had strung clothesline wire on posts along the top of their privacy fence and then attached flattened cans in a facsimile of plated armor so that it hung down from the clothesline wire. While this was originally to keep the opossums and raccoons from walking along the top of the fence, it has the additional benefit of adding about three feet of height to the fence line. If you were at the road, you couldn’t even tell the banana trees had any fruit on them at all. All you saw was the very top leaves swaying, assuming there was any breeze.

Their small Barbados Cherry hedge is producing its first crop of fruit as well. Planted last year, Sissy was never sure quite what to expect from the shrubs. All she had read stated that the fruit was very high in Vitamin C. The bushes can potentially grow into small trees approaching twenty feet in height so she put them in at the front corner of her house. They really haven’t grown too much so how they are supposed to actually make it to twenty feet is beyond her. But, she has gotten a nice bucket of fruit so far. The books say that after the first big fruiting in May, the trees may continue to bear fruit off and on until December. This will be a bonus if it proves to be true. The fruit doesn’t keep though. You have to use it the day you pick it or it gets nasty. They don’t can or dehydrate well either according to Sissy’s sources so she hasn’t wasted her time or resources trying. The kids are enjoying the tart little fruits but all the seeds drive Scott crazy. The Surinam Cherry is almost the same as the Barbados Cherry except instead of continuously fruiting from this point forward, it will stop fruiting by the end of the month and then have another crop in September or October if it gets enough water.

The blackberry canes are doing what they were meant to do as well. Sissy originally planted the blackberries as a hedge on the west side of the house between her yard and the orange grove. James, the family lawn service provider, was not happy with this originally as the thorns caught him every time he pushed the lawn mower down that side of the house. However, now there is a decided benefit to them. Sissy has harvested nearly two gallons of fruit so far. It seems the more often you pick the ripe fruit, the more fruit you will ultimately be able to harvest. Sissy also planted some persimmons on that side of the house and the blackberries will keep the racoons out of the young trees. The persimmons won’t be ripe until November, but it is nice to see the baby fruit hanging from the tree branches.

Sissy is disappointed in the grape vines that she planted. So far she has only gotten two very small clusters of fruit. And the vines don’t all look like the same species either. Some have bloomed and have tried to make a little fruit while others look like they are just now waking up from dormancy. She isn’t sure what to make of it, she didn’t get any fruit from the vines last year but she hopes maybe the other vines will fruit at a later date. She won’t give up until September when she knows that Florida’s grape season is officially over with.

They are trading very little food at the barter market. Nothing that comes their way goes to waste. As an example, a raccoon turned over a pot that held a tomato plant. Sissy was just plain furious as it had been loaded with fruit. She tried to save it but the plant was too shocked and the main stem had broken. Rather than allow it to be a total loss, she pulled the green tomatoes and made things like fried green tomatoes, green tomato pie, green tomato hash, green tomato cake, and green tomato mincemeat. The remaining leaves and stems went into the compost heap.

They also can’t make more water. With only 2.5 inches of rain for the month, they are heavily dependent on water storage when the power is off for extended periods of time. Scott has his family really tighten their personal water restrictions. They must be extremely diligent to gather every drop of rain they can. They also give other forms of water harvesting a try, like condensation farming and dew gathering, with limited success. They are very careful to refill every empty water container they can scrounge up when the power is on and run water to their pool to at least partially refill it when they can.

Scott and Sissy can only effect the power going up and down in a limited manner. When the power is on they limit their power consumption to clothes washing, water needs, and canning and cooking. If the power is on they also run the air conditioning at night to drive out the humidity. They leave the air conditioner off during the day because they are in and out working anyway. They make ice when they can and when the power is off they keep it for iced drinks. When the power is on they bake bread. When the power is off they fix their bread using alternative cooking methods, or they do without.

The hurricane season is fast approaching as well. Even a hit by a tropical storm could be disastrous under current circumstances. People are living on the edge; a weather event of any magnitude will put a number of people over the edge.

[Siskiyoumom]

Thank you!

Love the recipes and the practical matters we can all handle.

Sis

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Thirty-Three
(part 1)

June has arrived like the proverbial lamb. Scott and Sissy decide to stop worrying about what could happen next semester and celebrate what their kids have accomplished this semester. Rose completed her highschool educational goals and as far as Scott and Sissy are concerned has graduated.

Though the family home educates their children, they had planned on participating in a graduation ceremony sponsored by FPEA (Florida Parent Educators Association) which is a statewide homeschool support group. Of course large gatherings are now prohibited, nor do people have the gas or money to travel to the annual Orlando function even if it was allowed. Instead, several volunteers have gotten together and created a graduate website to showcase each graduate that submitted their information, complete with picture if desired. They also recorded a downloadable graduation ceremony with names being called out and with applause soundbites following each name. The sponsors of the website had to get special permission from the State because of the bandwidth required to operate the website.

Another neat feature of the website is that kids can sign a virtual yearbook. The concept is rather ingenious and several public and private schools are viewing it as a potential model for their autumn graduation events in case public gatherings are still prohibited. Unfortunately, along with the graduation page there is a “in memoriam” page for homeschool seniors that did not live to see their graduation. After Sissy catches the kids looking at each name in morbid fascination she sits down and has a long discussion with them. The kids are handling their situation superficially well, but things like the memory page or a news broadcast can disturb the precarious emotional balance they try so hard to maintain. Raising kids is never easy, but there is so much that you have to watch out for these days.

Rose and James have behaved amazingly well for your average teenager, all things considered. They settled down admirably after it was finally and irrevocably show that sequestering them was the best option for the family’s well being and safety.

Scott and Sissy’s kids are no more immune to bad days than Scott and Sissy themselves are. No one is perfect but everyone is trying their best most of the time to work as constructively within the situational confines as possible. Their family wouldn’t be able to function successfully if the kids weren’t on board. The kids have their importance and contributions recognized regularly. Scott and Sissy receive acknowledgement of their responsibility and authority from their kids. All family members try to behave respectfully to each other even under difficult and stressful circumstances. Scott and Sissy try to keep their own relationship healthy and respectful so that they can set a good example for the kids. Consistent reinforcement is the key to good family management. By having everyone work together, cooperatively and respectfully, the great good of the family and its members are served best. Scott and Sissy’s family operates as a team; a winning team.

In addition to Rose graduating and having her birthday, Scott and Sissy’s other children have completed their year’s academic work successfully. They decide to have a party and call some friends and relatives and email others to celebrate. Sissy cooks a canned ham, black eyed peas, cornbread, fried squash, fixes a salad of cantaloupe and huckleberries, and bakes a no-egg spice cake she fills with canned apple pie filling between the layers and a dusting of powdered sugar for the frosting. Scott even makes up diplomas and plaques for the kids and he takes pictures of them using the digital camera he has kept charged. It may be some time before they can have the pictures printed up, but at least they’ll have some record of the day saved.

Speaking of pictures, one of the tasks Sissy has been keeping up with is the family journal. Sometimes the journal is handwritten and sometimes it is computer printed. Sometimes there are pictures, magazine cut outs or pasted newspaper articles and sometimes there are hand drawings. Every family member participates several times a week by adding something, but Sissy makes sure that she writes in it every day. There are menus and recipes, inventories of barter items, tales of danger and tales of kindness. It’s turning out to be as much a therapeutic exercise for everyone as it is a chronicle of the pandemic. They call it their “ship’s log” though Scott has been known to slip and call it something much ruder – and more stinky – when he begins to enumerate what went on during those days he is out and about in the community.

The last couple of entries show that Sissy, James, and Sarah have planted the last of their Jerusalem artichokes, peppers, and some zucchini and crookneck squash, praying that the plants can survive the harsh summer heat that has arrived with a vengeance. The log also shows they’ve harvested the last of the potatoes, salsify, cardoon, celeriac, snap beans, garbanzo beans, and cucumbers. Scott used a pitchfork to dig the peanuts and then hung the plants to cure so that the unshelled peanuts can be pulled and stored in mesh bags for later use. They continue to harvest tomatoes and Sissy turns these into juice, paste, pasta sauce, salsa, and ketchup. They’ve also harvested pumpkins and winter squash varieties. Further north people store hard-skinned squash in their shells but due to Florida’s heat and humidity Sissy must can what they can’t eat right away. They also begin harvesting watermelons, though they lose two to an enterprising raccoon that Sissy wound up having to trap and dispose of. Scott gave it to Barry who dealt with it the way Mrs. Cleary advised him to … breaded and fricasseed.

The gorgeous Passionflower vines that were growing on the trellis attached to Scott’s shed have given way to passionfruits. The fruits are also known by their common name Maypop. No matter what you call them, the small, yellow fruits are delicious. Without refrigeration you need to eat the fruit as soon as you pick it. They look sort of like small yellow eggs, but they are fruits. Sissy had to lay a net across the front of the trellis in an attempt to keep the animals from taking all of the fruit.

This month Sissy also starts to pick the first of her papayas. If you keep these picked, your tree – really looks more like a stalk than a true tree – will continue to produce through to the first frost. The papaya makes another nice, fresh addition to their diet. The fruit is a little on the exotic side of taste and neither Johnnie nor Bekah seem to be developing a taste for it. Scott on the other hand loves it as he grew up eating it nearly year round for breakfast. Sissy loves being able to give Scott things that give him pleasure like this. It’s one of the few rewards she can give him for all of his hard work.

The first of June is also the beginning of the dreaded hurricane season. Luckily Scott and Sissy have a solar powered weather band radio. Other people in the neighborhood are taking turns starting up their cars when the power is off to get the news. The first tropical storm of the season came and went with no more than a little wind and a slight breeze but another is out there and is causing some significant worries for the few forecasters that the American Meteorological Society still has on staff. It looks like it might reach hurricane strength and hit somewhere along the East Coast of the US, anywhere between Jacksonville, FL and the Carolina Coastal region. It is too early to tell, but folks are definitely concerned.

****

Its a very warm morning for the Chapman family. Humidity is near 100 percent after last night’s rain with temperatures hovering in the 90s. While Scott is off on a work run, Sissy and the kids are nearly finished with the morning chores when they head inside for lunch and to wait out the worst of the day’s heat as best they can. Sissy especially feels the effect of the heat. Even though she never caught the virus like the rest of her family, she has been the slowest to recover both physically and mentally from the whole episode. And ever since the violence of the night of the train derailment Sissy has suffered stressed-induced headaches, some of them nauseatingly debilitating. The heat only compounds everything.

Sissy makes one last round to check the edible landscaping in the front yard to make sure she hasn’t missed anything. Suddenly, down the road comes an unusual sight. A large semi rolls in from US41 and backs into their driveway. It takes a minute, but Sissy realizes it is her little brother’s rig right before he steps down from the cab. If she hadn’t known him so well she would not have recognized him. The past months have not been kind. He has lost a lot of weight and he has more gray in his hair than she does. He looks far older than he should at 36 years of age. The mask and goggles he is wearing do not help either. But his same old prankster grin is in place as he strips off some of his PPE and says, “Hi Sis! Should I have called before stopping by?”

Sissy gives him a quick hug and a swat as she tries to pull him inside. He stops, saying, “I can’t stay long. Look, I found out those SOBs over at the depot are only going to pay me a quarter of what I was promised to haul this load in. It will cover fuel costs, but that’s it. Well, I’ve decided that if they are only going to pay me a quarter, a quarter load is all they are going to get. I’m meeting a guy I used to work with at the Volunteer Fire Department in Dover in two and a half hours. I’m off-loading about half of what I’ve got there. I stopped by Mom and Dad’s place and gave them some of this stuff already. I’ve got some pulled for my family, and I thought you all could use some.” That wicked twinkle is back in his eyes as he finishes up by saying, “Not to mention it was just too good an excuse not to come visit my big sister.”

His shocking arrival and the sudden largesse he offers is eclipsed by the fact he has actually seen their parents in person. Her heart gives a leap and she quickly asks, “You actually got to see Mom and Dad? How are they doing? How long did you get to see them? How did you get there? I 75 or US19? We’ve been having a terrible time catching each other online and our phone service is terrible. I’ve just been worried sick since Dad ran out of his pills.”

Her brother smiles realizing despite being nearly a year since they have seen each other, she is the same old Sissy. Talking a mile a minute and asking questions quicker than he can come up with answers. “I pulled into their place right at dusk to wait out the curfew, stayed overnight, then came here by I75. They keep a lane clear that is rigs-only. Fewer cars in the other lanes too, so it wasn’t bad. They’ve finally finished pushing most of the disabled cars off the road. As far as Mom and Dad go, a doctor in town moved in next to them and has been getting their meds for them in exchange for Dad keeping an eye on things when he is on rounds. Momma’s been cooking for him and doing his laundry.”

“Moved next to them? Did that couple from Alaska sell that front five acres?”

Soberly her brother responds, “Well, no . . . look, I hate to be the one to tell you . . . but the Bodettes both died.”

“What?! When?! But . . . Momma and Daddy never said a word.“

“You know the Bodettes weren’t young. Mr. Bodette just kind of gave up after their granddaughters both died. They both just kind of gave up. Mamie got sick with something, it wasn’t the flu. Mr. Bodette had a heart attack. Their son had been staying with ‘em cause his wife had kicked him out again for carousing. They were buried the same day. The doctor is some kind of relation to Mamie.”

“Momma and Daddy must be feeling awful. The Bodettes were our first friends when we moved to Florida. We’ve known them – knew them – for over 30 years.”

“Mom and Dad are OK. The Bodettes went together. I think the thing Mom and Dad worry about most is if one or the other gets left behind. I think they prefer the idea of going together like the Bodettes did.”

“Well I prefer the idea of neither one of them ‘going’.” she humphs.

“I hear that. Look, I hate to ask, but do you have anything food-wise that you can spare; anything at all? I’m trying to get the boys to come live with me. I don’t know how long this fresh stuff will last us.” he quietly asks, a bit shamefacedly.

“We’ll figure something out, but not where the neighbors can see or hear. They’re mostly good folks but a few of them talk too much if you know what I mean. Is something up with the boys’ mother? She hasn’t taken my phone calls since way before Christmas. The only thing I’ve heard I’ve gotten second hand from Daddy. Mom is still too upset to talk about it since their calls are no longer being accepted either.”

As they begin unloading stuff from the back of the rig Sissy’s brother explains, “You know she and her new husband were basically living on disability and the money I paid in child support. Well they’ve lost their disability payments because they failed to follow through on the required volunteer hours they were assigned. They thought they could get out of it because of their “conditions” and this time they’ve paid the piper. Their mother is now screaming for my blood because I can’t pay child support. I’ve been out of work. I’d pay it if I had it, but I don’t; all our savings is gone. Lucky for me the courts aren’t hearing any civil cases at this time. It’s a mess. Big T won’t talk to me and prefers to stay with his mom. He’s holding me responsible for their change in circumstances even though I had nothing to do with them losing their monthly check. Most everyone is in the same boat. He’s nearly 16 and thinks he knows all the real reasons this is happening. Little B though wants to come live with me. His Momma is holding our whole family responsible and has said she is cutting everyone off form the boys until she is paid what she is owed from me. But with her husband’s kids coming to live with them – and she ain’t too happy about that let me tell you – I’m hoping there might be a chance to work something out, like having the boys come live with me for a while.”

As they step inside with a load of boxes Sissy tells him, “I’ve got some rice and other things I’ll give you that should last you a little while if you piece it out with this fresh stuff. What is in all of these crates anyway? It looks like some of these have Daddy’s handwriting on them.”

Nodding his head he replies, “Yeah. Some of this stuff is from them. There are some blueberries, raspberries, blackberries, and some sparkleberries. Plus Momma sent you all sorts of patterns and material and God knows what all. They’re clearing their place. I don’t know what all they stuffed in these boxes. Momma says they are downsizing.”

“Why? They might need this stuff! And I know some of these dishes are family heirlooms,” as she reaches into one of the boxes and pulls out an old ceramic pickle crock and a large glass butter bell.

“I hate to say this but with things going like they are, we might have to move up there with them. I’ve got more trucking contacts in that area and I’d be closer to the fields for direct hauling. My wife can help mom and dad and the boys will be better off out of the city. Big T is hanging with some crapheads and his mother thinks they are just being boys despite the cops having brought him home twice now that I know about, and I suspect more often than that. I checked public records and she and her husband have fines stacking up against them for failing to comply with social distancing and curfew rules. Not to mention, out in the country I know I can at least feed my family better than I can here. Daddy has hardly used any of his ammo yet ‘cause the Doc keeps bringing stuff to ‘em that people barter him for services.”

Giving him a look to let him know that she understands his concerns, “You’ll be able to help Dad with the heavy stuff too. But what about your stuff here, your house?”

Shrugging he says, “We’ve talked it out and everything but one of the cars will fit in my trailer. I just need a ramp. If you all will watch the car until I can make another run this way, I’ll pick it up from here. The house . . . well, there isn’t much we can do about that. It is what it is. It’s getting no safer with us living there. People down our way are getting real peculiar. Wish our neighborhood had banded together like yours did. There is so much suspicion in our area that people answer the door – if they bother answering – with guns drawn. Two families around the corner from us were intentionally burned out of their homes just because someone thought they had food stockpiled. Or maybe it was fuel. I didn’t get the whole story because it happened while I was bad sick. Now that I’m back on the road, I’m scared to leave my wife alone.”

They continue talking back and forth while the kids finally take their turn crowding around him for attention. Sissy packs up rice, dried beans, powdered broth, brown sugar, salt, and ten pounds of flour. She also throws in some easy flatbread recipes, five pounds of popcorn, and a small stash of feminine necessities she thinks her sister in law will appreciate. It ate into her storage but compared to seeing him and getting some real news about her parents’ lives, not to mention all the produce and stuff he had taken the time to bring by, it was nothing. Her brother soon left and Sissy begins dealing with everything her brother has brought. She will shed a few tears tonight as she recounts the story to Scott, but for now there isn’t time.

First Sissy deals with the produce that includes nearly 10 bushels of snap beans that had been machine picked and originally destined for a NC cannery. She lays them out on sheets in the house to keep them from souring in the heat. She sets the girls to cleaning and snapping them as quickly as they can. She takes nearly a gallon of the beans over to where they are fixing the weekly batch of stone soup. The people tending the fire can clean and snap the beans straight into the cook pots.

Answering her neighbors’ curious questions she just tells them her parents sent her some stuff and left it at that. She likes her neighbors well enough but she is an inherently private person and she remains cautious about sharing her personal information. Luckily her brother was able to pull his rig back to within just a few feet of her front door. The “L” shape of the house prevented people from seeing what they were doing on one side. The other side was screened from view by foliage and the orange grove. Despite these precautions, Scott is sure to be grilled by the gossips the next time he goes to the market.

Sissy hurries back to the house to find that Rose and James have already started going through the remaining produce. There are tomatoes from Ruskin, but most of them have some green on them so they will need to sit and ripen. There are peanuts from up at the Florida/Georgia border, but they look pretty green as well. There are about two dozen watermelons, about four bushels of cucumbers, a dozen pumpkins, and what amounts to about three bushels of different varieties of squash. There is also about four gallons of blueberries and twice that many blackberries and raspberries. And there are some weird looking fruit from south Florida called sopadillas that she doesn’t know what to do with.

It is an incredible bounty. The tomatoes will be canned in various forms. The peanuts will be dried in their shells and later roasted and ground into fresh peanut butter because they are quickly running out. The watermelon will be eaten fresh and then the rinds will be pickled or made into watermelon rind preserves. Some of the cucumbers will be used fresh but many of them will find themselves being brined for canning. She will bake the pumpkins as she needs them, for as long as they will keep, as she still had plenty of commercially canned pumpkin puree. Or she’ll make a batch of pumpkin chips if she has time. The squash she will try to eat fresh as well but she may have to can some. The small fruit will be canned in various forms, and some of the blackberries made into blackberry shrub for summer drinking as she is running out of lemonade syrup. She is pretty sure the sapodillas have to be eaten fresh, but that is a research project to tackle later in the day.

Sissy hopes she has enough empty jars for what she needs to do. She bought a large case of rings and seals before the pandemic, but they won’t last forever either. With so many snap beans she thinks she will give making leather britches a try. That is where you string snap beans on a string and leave them to dry. She isn’t sure if it will work or not because humidity usually causes the beans to sour and grow fuzzy mold. If the power comes back on soon enough, she will definitely be drying what she can in her electric dehydrator trays. Now might also be a good time to experiment with a homemade dehydrator that they can set up on the lanai. The screening will keep the bugs out and it can be used even with the power off.

So much to do, and not near enough time to do it in. Sissy realizes she will also need to deal with whatever Scott manages to bring home this evening. She is tired of being tired. She doesn’t have any choice but to keep on going and dealing with situations as they arise. She would rather have to deal with being tired now than seeing her kids go hungry later. She imagines this is very similar to what pioneer women used to feel in early American history or any woman who lived before the 1950’s. Their families survived and so will hers; she is determined to see to it.

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Thirty-Three
(part 2)

Ship’s Log

It is so unbelievably hot. I thought we were all getting used to not having the AC but today has been just awful. To make matters worse, with the power off we have to also ration water. Johnnie, being the little boy he is, wouldn’t lay still on the lanai. He was all over the place until he just about ran himself sick. After I finally got him to lay down on the cool concrete floor, he fell asleep for several hours; long enough for me to start worrying.

One good thing happened today. I was using the quiet time while Johnnie napped to rearrange some cases of canning jars. In the corner, buried behind a bunch of empties, were buried three case of pint jars I thought held jelly that hadn’t set properly. Nope. Turns out what I had been counting as jelly is actually some of the fruit juice concentrate that I had canned up to make room in the freezer before everything hit the fan. Yippee!!

Decided to celebrate and try and give everyone something to take their mind off of this heat. I used a jar of lemonade concentrate and a jar of fruit punch concentrate and made Fruity Lemonade. It took nearly two quarts of our coolest water but the look on my family’s faces at supper was worth it. -- Sissy

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How to Make Leather Britches

To dry green beans: Wash 3 pounds young green beans well, snap off the tips, then string up loosely (the beans should barely touch one another on heavy white thread, using a heavy-gauge needle. Hang the strong of beans clothesline fashion indoors in a sunny spot and let dry for about 2 months. Check the beans occasionally for signs of mold and discard them should they begin to soften or mold. If the spot is sufficiently dry and sunny (an east or south exposure is best), the beans will wither gradually, turn a sort of khaki color, then as they give up more and more of their moisture, become lightweight and leathery. They are now ready to cook.

Bean soup made with Leather Britches Beans
1 pound dried green beans
2 quarts cold water
1 large meaty ham bone or ham seasoning
1 teaspoon salt (or more if needed)
pinch of black pepper

Place the beans in a heavy, medium-size kettle, pour in the water, cover and let the beans soak for about 2 hours. Add the ham bone, set the kettle over moderate heat and bring to a boil. Reduce heat so that water barely ripples, then simmer slowly, uncovered, about 3 hours or until beans have plumped and softened and meat falls away from the bone. Watch the pot closely toward the end of cooking and add more water if beans threaten to boil dry. There should be quite a bit of liquid in the kettle at serving time (about 2 cups). Taste for salt and add more if needed. Also add pepper to taste. Spoon into soup bowls and serve, making sure that each person gets a nice chunk of ham and plenty of “pot likker.” From The Green Thumb Preserving Guide by Jean Anderson

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Pumpkin Chips

7 Pounds Pumpkin
4 lemons
5 pounds sugar

Peel and slice pumpkin in one inch squares ¼ inch thick. Pack down in sugar, let stand over night. Drain off syrup, bring to boil, skim. Add chips and lemons sliced thin. Cook until clear and transparent and syrup is thick. Pack into sterile jars and seal immediately.

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Thirty-Four

All day Scott and Sissy have been listening to the solar radio while they do their chores. They keep it in the sun where it can maintain its charge, but they also have several rechargeable batteries prepared, as well as a second radio that operates on a crank dynamo just in case. And they have neighbors coming by to listen from the other side of their privacy fence.

It started as a typical tropical wave off of Cape Verde, Africa. As it moved westward it turned into a tropical storm, and received its name - Edouard . And then it became a hurricane, rapidly intensifying to Category 5 strength. But at that point it was still well out in the Atlantic and nearly 1,000 miles from any land. The National Hurricane Center (NHC) frantically tracked its movements to try and give the public as much warning as possible in case it made landfall. They nearly lost a NOAA plane and its crew doing so. No one could say for sure what it is going to do. The track is very wide and its strength makes it unpredictable.

As the day progresses the hurricane loses some of its strength when it scrapes the Caribbean, passing over Guadeloupe, the Leeward Islands, and St. Croix, weakening to a category 3 when it makes a brief landfall at Vieques, Culebra, and the eastern tip of mainland Puerto Rico, while undergoing an eyewall replacement cycle (ERC). The storm continues to weaken after leaving the warm waters of the Caribbean to a category 2. But any hope that it will dissipate all together is short lived as it quickly re-strengthens when it passes over the Gulf Stream. Five days after leveling Montserrat, Edouard smacks head long into the East Coast of the USA.

Originally forecast to come ashore in Savannah, Georgia the storm takes a belated northeast turn towards Charleston, South Carolina. The storm makes landfall at a place called McClellanville, South Carolina late in the evening as a category 4 hurricane with 135 mph winds.

The family listens to the reports coming in from all over the Caribbean and the East Coast, detailing the destruction and the response - or lack of response - of rescue operations..

The Caribbean, except for a very few privately owned islands, has reverted to very primitive facilities since the pandemic began. Most island infrastructures have collapsed so accurate reports on loss of life is the subject of much debate. Several mass graves have been noted, but it is unknown if these are truly victims of the hurricane, pandemic flu victims who were recently buried, or cadavers that were washed out of existing cemeteries. On Montserrat, 90 percent of all buildings are reported destroyed, but again, the veracity of the statement is unknown as civil unrest was severe in the opening days of the pandemic and continues in the aftermath of the hurricane damage. Heavy rains have caused severe flooding in San Juan, Puerto Rico. Nearly 30,000 people are reported to have been made homeless as a direct result of the hurricane. There is no infrastructure or international aid in operation to affect ready resettlement for these victims.

Scott and Sissy are horrified by the newest reports of extensive damage in Charleston, South Carolina. Many barrier islands where some people retreated to as a way to control their exposure to panflu are completely cut off from the mainland. Bridges are down. Boats have been pushed inland. A twenty-foot storm surge is said to have wiped some islands completely clean of all buildings, roads and inhabitants making them appear virginal and newly risen from the ocean. In addition to the storm surge along the coast, inland areas are reporting in excess of 10 inches of rainfall.

Federal services are already stretched too thin to address the pandemic, much less suddenly expand to address hurricane relief. There is no significant Salvation Army or Red Cross presence to go to the aid of residents, having collapsed months ago due to lack of volunteers and physical resources. Local services tried to get the warnings out to the public in the days preceding the storm’s landfall, but lack of electrical services - which means no television or radio for most people - prevented the warnings from reaching everyone, especially those in isolated rural settings. Staff from local law enforcement agencies and fire department personnel went street to street with megaphones trying to encourage people to evacuate with only limited success. Two hundred and fifty thousand should have evacuated, but it now appears less than half that number did. Some mass transit and school buses were pulled into service to get people out but some of the transports broke down or ran out of gas before reaching their drop off points. Most people wanted to know where they were supposed to go with no public shelters? Would their homes be looted if they left and couldn’t get back?

It was fortuitous that the worst of Edouard’s fury is spent over a sparsely populated rural area of South Carolina near the Frances Marion National Forest. After the storm, hundreds of trees are found shorn off at the 15 to 20 foot level. Everywhere streets are reported strewn with mangled debris and household goods. There are also bodies amongst the flotsam. The storm did not just hit coastal areas. . Berkely County - 80 miles inland - reports wind gusts to 120 mph. Even 200 miles inland the storm still packs winds up to 100 mph. Charlotte, NC was the next major metropolitan area ravaged.

As the Chapman family and their neighbors listen, the State of Virginia is reporting torrential rainfall and Sissy thinks of her cousin Sadie and whether she and her family are safe. Their roads flood in snowmelt. How will they fair at the hands of a tropical storm? The last weather report has the storm heading north towards Canada. All everybody in the neighborhood can think is “that could have been us” followed closely by “are we next?”

“Wowee. That coulda been us.” Barry started off saying.

“Yeah. We do not need those kinds of problems. Besides all of the obvious stuff like people suffering, I’ve got a list twice as long as my arm of delayed maintenance items that would make a storm hit that much worse. That second-story roof over on 13th keeps me up at night. We can only patch it so much. Another bad storm and I don’t know what’ll happen.” Scott adds with a weary sigh.

“Only can do so much. I still can’t believe that chick was letting her kids climb on the roof in the first place. They were just sitting up there pulling up shingles when we drove up.”

“Don’t even get me started. Man, don’t get me started. Its like no one cares anymore as long as their kids aren’t bothering them. Johnnie can get going sometimes when he is restless and needing to burn off some energy, but I’d never let him climb on the roof, much less start destroying the freaking house!”

“Yeah, my granddaughters can drive me buggy on some days. It’s actually been a relief to be able to get out even if we are working like mad men and sweating like pigs. I don’t see how my Serena and Ann do it.”

“Yeah, Sissy isn’t looking too good lately either. I don’t think it’s the kids though, at least she says it isn’t. She is the only one in the house that didn’t get sick – you know back when everyone else did – but she is the only one that hasn’t seemed to recover. I’m getting worried. I’m thinking about seeing if there is a private clinic where she can go for a check up or something. Her dad started having heart problems in his 40’s. I don’t even want to think about what could be going on with her.” Scott says with a deeply concerned look on his face.

“Don’t put the cart before the horse son. It don’t look that bad and we aren’t going to let it get that bad. You want Serena to talk to her, in case, you know, its female stuff?” Barry offered.

“Sissy is pretty up front about that stuff with me, but yeah, see if Serena will talk to her but tell her not to say that it will get back around to me. Sissy might put up a front so I don’t find out how bad she is feeling. I already know, but if Sissy thinks it is something in particular, she isn’t saying. I need to know if there is something I can do about it.”

“Come on Hoss. I’ll finish this, you pack up. I got a line on a job from a man Serena used to work with. He needs some stuff hauled and it sounds like he doesn’t care what happens to it so long as it gets gone. Might be something in there worth our trouble.”

Scott agrees and starts loading tools back into the van all the while thinking, “God I don’t know what I’d do if something happens to her.”

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Thirty-Five

June may have come in like a lamb but it goes out with the roar of a wounded lion. Hurricane Edouard decimates large areas off the coast of South Carolina. Its all people have been talking about for days. It highlights their worst fears. There are more storms on the way as well. Tropical storms Fay and Gustav are spinning harmlessly to their deaths, but T.S. Hannah looks like it might have a temper.

Tampa’s rain pattern finally returns to normal with afternoon showers on most days - June normally sees an average of 5.5 inches of rain – and everyone has been able to replenish their stored water. July should bring them about seven and a half inches as long as normal rain patterns are maintained.

With the rain comes even more heat and humidity. TECO really struggles to meet the heightened demand for electricity. Instead of their response getting better as time passes, it is getting worse. They no longer have the resources available to buy “excess” power generated by other utility companies to meet their shortfall. Those companies are struggling as well, or in the case of several small rural cooperatives, have failed, and entire areas no longer have any access to electricity. Fuel shortages have also handicapped TECO’s power production. For the past several weeks Scott and Sissy’ neighborhood has been lucky to have power one day in five. The dam on the Hillsborough River at Rowlette Park helps some, but not much.

Lack of electricity has cascading consequences. With less electricity, city municipal services, already dealing with lowered water quality, see a significant drop in water pressure. Some people on the very outskirts of the municipal system barely have a trickle coming from their faucets. Two sections of Tampa are completely without municipal water because of two water main collapses that happened after the last tropical storm. Worse is that some of the sewage lift stations in low-lying areas are failing and sewage is backing up into people’s homes or flowing into the Hillsborough River. Tampa, particularly the older sections of town, are reaping the inevitable consequences that occur to aging infrastructure under stress.

Hospitals now must care for almost all of their patients in outdoor tent facilities full time. The lack of electricity has turned the inside of their buildings into dark, barely navigable, smelly firetraps. Hospitals receive priority for electrical services, but they have chosen to turn off all wings of the hospitals except for the surgical units, the labs, and the main pharmacy area. Any left over voltage is used to operate fans used to circulate air in the tents. Its too much of a logistical nightmare to move people in and out every time there is a black out. Death from heat, dehydration, and out of control bacterial fevers rival deaths from influenza

Gas stations cannot pump fuel without electricity. A few enterprising stations have installed makeshift hand pumps; but, this means less accurate pricing and much longer waits for the ten-gallon allotments.

Those people that are still mobile in their vehicles must drive much slower because of the lack of traffic signals (no power, no traffic lights). This is further complicated by the exponential increase in the numbers of bicycles and motorcycles on the road. There are special commuter rules in effect. Anything with wheels – from semi to unicycle – must travel in the correct lanes. Pedestrian traffic is directed in the same manner, people are supposed to travel on the right-hand side of the sidewalk. If there is a sidewalk available on both side of the road, and the road consists of only two lanes, then the sidewalks are one-way with pedestrians travelling on their right. Commute times, if you are lucky enough to still have a job, have gotten significantly longer as well. The only offset is since the days are now longer, curfew is easier to meet. Even more than before, people do not participate in any unnecessary travel.

But the worst consequence of less electricity is that information dispersal is slowing down. Radio and television stations cannot operate without power and they have long ago used up all fuel for their back up generators. The most reliable news is now being disbursed on the Internet and the family makes sure that they keep their laptop batteries fully charged with their solar panel recharger. The problem is that the most unreliable news is also being disbursed on the Internet. It is a real job to try and separate the two. Everyone seems to have his or her own agenda.

Very few people have access to solar power or battery and appliance recharging. Scott and Sissy try to keep their power preps low profile to avoid conflict caused by envy. When they do come across news they think important to share, they make out like it is found out while Scott and his crew are out and about. Barry and Tom know otherwise of course, but they understand the necessity of some things not being for public consumption. In a sense, their silence is beneficial to their own families for in return for their silence Scott has taken to recharging their batteries and phones . . . after all, sunlight is one of the few things still available in great quantities and for free.

It may have been a fluke, but solar chargers for iPods and other MP3 players were a very popular gift the Christmas season prior to the beginning of the pandemic. Some of these devices have built in radio receivers. These trendy gadgets are turning out to be life-links for some families who might not otherwise have access to any other news outlet sources.

“Daddy, the last batch of batteries are reading fully charged.”

“OK Sweetheart, bring me that bag out of my closet that has the dead batteries in it.”

While Bekah runs inside, Scott asks Sissy what’s for dinner.

“Spam and veggie kabobs are in the solar cooker. I’ve got rice in there too. Its just too hot to fix anything else. I wish I could say we were having iced tea or lemonade but all the ice is gone.” About that moment Sissy gets a funny look on her face and slowly starts to collapse.

Scott cries, “Sissy!”

Sissy’s face is bright red as Scott carries her onto the lanai. “James! Bring me some water and towels. Sarah, go get that fan your Momma made you out of that palmetto frond. I want you to wave that and help cool her down. Rose, if there isn’t any Gatorade drink stuff mixed up, get some made with the coolest drinking water we have.”

As Scott has the kids do their best to cool Sissy down, Scott takes off like a shot down the road to get Tom Cox’s wife who worked in an extended care facility before the pandemic closed it down.

Laura Cox is a petite natural blonde with a rather serious outlook on life. Scott runs back to his home as Laura bikes over. They both enter to find that Sissy has regained consciousness and is very embarrassed by the scene she has apparently made.

“Mom won’t stay put!” James quickly tells his dad.

“Sissy don’t you dare move. This is Laura Cox, you remember her from when the boys were in Cub Scouts. Kids, scram and let Mrs. Cox talk to your Momma. You can come back in a minute.”

As she watches the kids file out very unwillingly Sissy says, “Yes I do and I’m really sorry that Scott got you over here from nothing. I’m fine.”

“People who are fine don’t pass out,” Laura says. “If nothing else, let me check your pulse and blood pressure so that Scott will feel better.”

“Oh all right. I just feel so stupid. I guess I just got too hot or something.”

After checking her over Laura says, “Sissy, you know I’m no doctor but it doesn’t take a neurosurgeon to see you’ve lost a lot of weight and you are working really hard. Heck, I could just about say the same thing for everyone on our block.”

Sissy interrupts by say, “Well then I’m the same as everyone else.”

Laura comes back with, “Maybe. You aren’t the first to pass out in this heat that’s for sure. But everyone reacts to various stimulants differently. Weight loss, stress, sleeplessness, etc. will hit different people differently. Tom has told me all you are trying to keep up with. Frankly I don’t know how you are still on your feet and why you weren’t one of the first down when the sickness went through the neighborhood. But if you aren’t careful, all that is gonna come due in a big payment.”

Sissy sighs and agrees she hasn’t been feeling well lately, but asks what she is supposed to do? When you have it, you need to save it because tomorrow, or next week, you might need it.

“Sissy, I don’t know what the answer is, but you need to slow down or you’re gonna really get sick. Take siestas in the heat of the day. I know you are always harping at the men to make sure they have enough drinking water to last them through the day. You probably do the same to your kids. Now you need to do it for yourself. Same with eating; no cutting back so Scott and the kids can have a little more. I think we can put this down to a little heat exhaustion. Next time you might not be so lucky.”

After Scott makes sure that Laura gets back home safely and hurriedly answers all of the questions of the worried neighbors that had witnessed his run down the block, Scott sits down with Sissy to have a serious talk about what happened.

“God Sissy, you scared me to death. If you were feeling this bad, why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I have been saying that I’m tired and stuff. I just figured that’s all it was. Trust me, I didn’t intend to pass out like that. I woke up feeling like I was going to puke and I’m still kind of nauseous. The last time I felt like this was when I was pregnant with Johnnie.”

“You aren’t are you?”

“Aren’t what? Pregnant? Lord no. Scott not only are my tubes cut but they are burnt forever closed. The baby factory is permanently closed. And besides I just had my monthly so no way am I pregnant. I’m just tired and anxious.”

“You sure it isn’t anything else? You’d tell me if you thought it was?”

“Scott, I’m just … I don’t know. In the beginning of all of this I was fine. We had a plan, I felt in control. The kids were safe. We were safe. Etc. Then when you all got sick something just … I don’t know, something just changed for me. I’ve always been a light sleeper but now I hardly ever sleep through the night. At first losing my appetite was helpful, I know I needed to lose weight anyway. Now though sometimes the thought of eating at all just turns my stomach. I’m tired of cooking. I’m tired of cleaning. I’m tired of worrying. I’m tired of these same damn walls, this same damn fenced in yard. I’m just plain tired of everything!” and Sissy starts crying.

Scott is at a loss what to do for her. He has known that she was starting to feel bad, he just hadn’t realized how hard all of this was turning out to be on her. His Sissy always seems to have an answer, always seems to make something out of nothing, was always doing things to cheer everyone else up. To see her so tore up left him the one feeling helpless and useless.

“OK, look at me. I want you to promise me that you are going to rest after lunch every day.”

“Scott, I can’t there is too much to …”

“No, there is no can’t here. If I have to turn into a chauvinistic pig here and put my foot down and demand you do what I’m saying I will. I cannot … will not … lose you. The kids need you. I need you. We will do whatever we have to do to keep you. Do you understand me?”

“Oh Scott. I’m not being a pain on purpose.”

“You aren’t being a pain at all. You took care of us for weeks while we were sick. Now you have to let us take care of you.”

“Scott, I can’t honestly say that is going to make things any better. I’ll probably just lay there thinking of all the things that I need to get up and do.”

“Look, just try it for a few days. If that doesn’t work then we’ll try something else. The kids and I’ll will take over the cooking …”

“No. Let’s not go changing the whole way we do things just because I passed out once. I’ll try the resting after lunch thing. OK?”

“Have you kept up your journaling? I know I complained about having to do it but you seemed to get a kick out of it. Maybe writing things out will help.”

“Writing things out. Scott I barely have time to do what needs to be done, much less have the time to do what I want to do. The kids have been writing stuff in the Ship’s log for me for the last couple of weeks.”

“Well, why don’t you go back to writing. Sarah can do more of the mending. Bekah is certainly big enough to do more in the kitchen and with cleaning. Rose can take on at least one of the day’s meals and the girls can help her. James and I will do any lifting here in the garden.”

“Oh Scott, I just feel like such a failure,” Sissy moans. “Rose should be going to college, the other two girls are too young to be taking on all of the household responsibilities of a grown woman. You and James already have so much work to do to keep the van going and all that equipment you bring back to repair for the apartments. If I can’t …”

“It’ll be OK darling. Whatever is going on, we’ll figure it out. I just can’t lose you. You don’t know how much you mean to me. You don’t know how necessary you are to me. I can’t raise these kids by myself. I can’t keep going on without you. Its too damn hard. We are going to get through this together.”

“Oh Scott,” Sissy sighs as she is pulled into the arms of the only man she has ever loved.

“Let me figure something out. I’ll figure out some way to get you out of the house so you can take a break. It may not be right away, but I’ll try. As far as the rest of it, we’ll work it out. But woman, you are going to get some rest and you are going to eat. We are all making sacrifices, but they don’t need to be sacrifices to the …” and Scott takes a deep breath and says, “they don’t need to be sacrifices to the death.”

“OK. OK. This day has sucked hasn’t it?” she sniffles.

“Yeah, but hopefully tomorrow will be better. Just so long as we are all together.”

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Thirty-Six

Over the last couple of weeks, Sissy has slowly returned to an outlook and attitude that is closer to her normal personality. She still has moments when she just wants to sit down and cry out of sheer frustration and fatigue, but those moments are becoming fewer.

Scott and the kids have certainly become more aware of just how much Sissy does every day. The fact that they are learning this during one of the longest black outs they’ve ever experienced made the point even more emphatically. The extra rest during the hottest part of the day helps, she has even managed to take a nap on a few occasions. Mostly it is just taking the time to stop and have some physical and mental quiet time that is helping Sissy regain her composure.

Scott has even come up with a plan to get Sissy out of the house for a bit. It isn’t at all what she was anticipating. And now that the time has come she is unexpectedly nervous to the point that her stomach is heaving. It was far from her favorite activity before the pandemic, but Scott was so pleased to be able to get this opportunity for her that she hasn’t had the heart to complain. She was going to . . . [she can hear the theme music from the movie Jaws every time she thinks about it] . . . the grocery store.

Last week a manager from a local grocery store walked the two miles from his store to practically beg Scott to come do several repairs. The county code enforcement department, using sledge hammer tactics to deal with a dust cloth problem, is going around town shutting down soup kitchens, charitable food distribution points, neighborhood produce stands, and grocery stores for “health code violations.” The CE Department seems to thrive on justifying their own existence. Scott’s personal opinion is that it is revenge for the slap in the face the department took several months back when they precipitated several near riots.

The strong-arm tactics are a response to an outbreak of shigella that has been confined to a small area in the furthermost southeast corner of the county. Instead of re-emphasizing hand washing and basic hygiene practices, or requiring sanitizing stations outside of food service locations, they are closing down businesses that are lifelines in many neighborhoods.

The store manager knows that the loss of his store will have disastrous effects, both for local customers and for his employees. The store has also become the center of his life. He now lives there full time after losing his wife and children in September. He lost his children to influenza and his wife due to the lack of insulin for her diabetes.

It is a misconception on the part of the general public to believe that grocery stores are making a huge profit at their customers’ expense. Grocers operate on a very thin margin of profit even under the best of conditions. They are as affected by the concept of supply and demand as consumers are. They are also subject to the same shortages and quantity restrictions, not to mention distribution problems. Just because costs are going up for groceries doesn’t mean profits are going up for grocery stores.

The concern for the store manager is that there is no money to pay to have the repairs made. If the repairs are not made, the store will be condemned and forcibly closed and its inventory confiscated. Most of the repairs are relatively minor, but there are a number of them.

• A minor roof leak in an unused maintenance closet at the rear of the building.
• An inoperable loading bay door at the rear of the store. The track in the roll down door was damaged during an attempted break in, preventing complete opening or closing.
• One of the automatic doors does not work, even when the power is on.
• When the power is off, customers aren’t supposed to have access to the coolers where freezer foods and meats were once sold.
• Despite being empty and unused, coolers need to be re-sanitized after a small area of mildew was noted in the back corner of one freezer.
• There is too little light when the power is off, making navigation of the store aisles difficult or dangerous.
• Code enforcement wants the entire store sanitized especially the bakery and produce sections.
• The boards over the front glass area, there for security reasons, need to come down.
• Too many customers are allowed in the store at one time, violating social distancing recommendations.
• The front windows of the store need to be cleaned, as does the front walk.
• There are not enough trash receptacles outside.
• The employee break area is ill lit and needs to be sanitized.

Scott agrees to go look and see what he can do. After looking everything over he finds that the leak is an easy fix. It will just be a minor roof repair. Same with the loading bay door. All that needs doing is to get the door and chain back in the track. The automatic door is a stupid violation, but to address it he can install a shock, similar to the ones found on screen doors or hatch backs of cars. The door can then be propped open if need be and will close slowly rather than swing shut with a bang.

The issue with the coolers is twofold. The store staff can clean them and the rest of the store to address the disinfection requirements. Following that a new floor plan can be designed and shelves moved to keep customers toward the front of the store. Since only about five customers are going to be allowed inside the store at any given time, they can remove all of the cash registers, except for the one at customer service, and replace them with stock shelves. Having products closer to the front windows will alleviate lighting issues.

Since the bakery can only operate when the power is on, that area will be shut off from customers completely. When the power is on and the bakery is operating, any baked goods can be transferred to baskets at the front of the store. The window area will be un-boarded and metal rebar left over from a construction site that Scott plundered will be used to create metal slat work. The plywood will be recycled to build temporary walls behind the area where the cash registers were. With a few additional refinements the plan is finalized.

The hitch in the negotiations is payment for the work. It is eventually agreed that payment will be made in the form of food vouchers. The compromise is that not all of the vouchers can be spent in a single week. All of the vouchers are distributed at the time of job completion, but are dated to be “spent” over a six-week period.

Scott decides to include Barry and Tom on the job. Scott will get a fifty percent cut and the other two men will each get twenty-five percent of the vouchers. Serena spends their first week’s vouchers right away as does Laura Cox. After putting it off for as long as she can, Sissy finally readies herself. The vouchers have nearly expired and she will just have to go regardless of her nerves. Scott was so proud when he explained how the vouchers worked. Its all Sissy can do to not let him see how different this is than what she expected. She understands it is a great opportunity most people would jump at, its just not what she had been at all anticipating. Sissy tells herself she really needs to work on her level of gratitude.

Sissy leaves at first light to walk up to the grocery store. Scott wants to drive her, but she argues him out of it saying that it is a waste of fuel and that one of them really needs to stay home with the kids. She thought Rose would have a chance to get away from the house as well, but the girl dropped a #10 size can of dried beans on her foot the day before and it is now very bruised and sore. Sissy doesn’t want her out and about on it in case they have to make a fast exit for some reason. James has to stay home and help Scott in the garden and the other children are too young so it looks like she is on her own.

The day is already warming up and Sissy is wringing wet with sweat before she even reaches the end of her street. Carrying a two-quart canteen over her shoulder and wearing a facemask and gloves doesn’t make it any cooler. On her back she wears a makeshift basket cobbled together from an old backpack frame, palmetto sticks with their sharp edges removed and woven into panels, and wire lashing. James originally made it for working in the citrus grove. She borrowed it to haul the groceries home in because the store can no longer provide bags or boxes. Scott had asked why she didn’t just take one of their large backpacks. Sissy decided against it because she would have been forced to empty one of their bug-out bags.

As Sissy walks the two miles to the store she notices that she isn’t the only one out and about despite the early hour. There are a lot of people on foot and bicycles. There are even a few odd, rickshaw-looking bicycle taxis. However no one is congregating together. There are a few travelling by 2s and 3s, but no groups larger than that. At least this early in the morning everyone is pretty much following the appropriate traffic patterns. Keep to your right side – whether on the road or on the sidewalk – and everything with wheels must use the blacktop and leave the sidewalks, such as they are, for pedestrian traffic.

As Sissy continues up the highway she begins to realize that even though she works very hard every day and is in better shape than she has been in years – fewer calories and more exercise does have its benefits after all – she still can use some distance training. Walking around on a half-acre lot, or across the street on occasion, is no preparation for walking miles at a time. Thank goodness her tennis shoes are still in reasonable shape. Several people in her neighborhood have simply chosen to go barefoot which has resulted in more ringworm, stubbed toes, and minor infections. Foot care is no joke any more.

Eventually Sissy reaches the grocery store’s parking lot. On one end of the strip center, which is shaped like a capital L, is the Post Office and on the other end is the grocery store. Lines of about a dozen people each are already evident at both locations. All the storefronts between the two are boarded over and abandoned giving the center a look of desperate deterioration.

Taking a deep breath she goes and takes her place in the cue for the grocery store. An armed security guard is stationed before the door in case of “dissatisfied customers” or any other form of uncivil behavior. Promptly at 7 am they allow the first five customers in.

Waiting her turn, Sissy finally takes note of the personal appearance of the people around her. Not surprisingly there are more women than men, but regardless of sex, everyone can use a shave. The men all have either closely cropped beards or several days worth of whiskers. The women appear to be going au natural with bare, unshaven legs and underarms. There is a darkly sarcastic voice in her head telling her she can mark shaving cream off her list of things to buy. Sissy is glad she chose to wear jeans and short sleeves despite the heat. She would have probably gotten some fairly curious – or contemptuous – looks otherwise. She doesn’t shave as often, but she does shave which probably would have made her stand out too much. It was bizarre to see all the cans of shaving cream and razors under their bathroom sink prepandemic, but it sure has come in handy. Toothpaste too. Those are some of the items that are most difficult for people to come by these days.

Everyone’s clothes look well worn as well with most people having at least one item on that is either quite rumpled or threadbare. One man even has on sandals that look like they have been made from car tires. And everyone is wearing a hat. There isn’t a child in sight. This makes Sissy really glad she didn’t get desperate enough to bring Johnnie with her. She could have pushed him in the stroller but the risk of infection outweighs any nerves she might experience.

What a change from the last time she had been here, that last scramble for supplies before the pandemic was declared. Well-dressed older ladies in pantsuits sporting blue hair, wearing jewelry with matching shoes and purses. Burly construction workers stopping by the deli, loudly debating the merits of a Cuban sandwich vs. the fried chicken and potato salad. Businessmen with a couple of canned energy drinks in one hand, their wallet in another, and a cell phone glued to their ear. Young mothers pushing children in buggies, looking harassed as their kids beg for cookie samples from the bakery. Now everyone looks like a refugee. This isn’t supposed to happen here, in her city, in her country.

It reminds Sissy of an episode from the Twilight Zone, all too surreal to really take in. Even more changes await inside as it becomes her turn to enter the store. Scott told her about the changes so she is somewhat prepared, but hearing about it and seeing it for herself are quite different.

Only one register is in evidence and it is an old manual one that was pulled out of a long unused cabinet in the store’s upstairs office. It is old enough that it could easily have found a place in a display cabinet in Tampa’s Historical Museum downtown. There is a wide series of shelves fronted by a very long counter top. People she recognizes from before as former cashiers and stockers go back and forth pulling items for the customers they are serving. The whole set up reminds her of the old General Stores you see and read about from before the advent of the modern supermarket.

“Any bread today?”

“No, I’m sorry. The power is still off. Maybe tomorrow. How about some olives?”

“No. Got any corn?”

“Yes, but there is a two can limit.”

“That’s fine. Got any tomatoes?”

“Not canned. We’ve got some fresh. They are a little green but you can have three pounds.”

“Give me one pound and what is the price for those snap beans?”

And on it goes, people looking for one thing but leaving with whatever they can get. As Sissy walks up, the store manager recognizes her and comes over to work up her order personally. She picks up fresh carambolas (aka star fruit) that have just come in from down south. She gets a jug of peanut oil and five pounds of honey, both of which have obviously been packaged locally and costs far more than they did prepandemic. She also picks up a five pound bag of new potatoes. She figures to try and save some of them to plant next month if she can get the eyes to sprout. She asks for bleach, dish detergent and vinegar but only gets two of the three as the store used its stock of bleach for its own disinfecting. Maybe next time. The last thing she picks up is the most expensive and the one thing she debates the most about getting. She gets three pounds of what the store manager says is locally prepared and cured Chorizo sausages.

One of the local families of Italian decent, with ties to early 20th century Tampa, still had a large number of cattle on their acreage in Odessa when the pandemic was declared. Using business sense and bravado inherited from their immigrant grandparents, they are turning a profit making beef sausages and jerky. She knows this family by reputation – their ancestors had been members of the old Trafficante gang. They are still a bunch of goons, but these days they are relatively honest goons.

Sissy places her purchases in the backpack, heavy items on the bottom and produce on top, at the check out. She pays with her vouchers and because she has gone slightly over, has to add some change that Scott insisted she bring just in case. After paying she begins to make her way home, the backpack weighing her down.

As Sissy steps outside she notices that the line for the post office has doubled, but the line for the grocery store is now wrapped around the building. A few people call out to her and ask if there is any bread. At her negative answer several sigh, get out of line and depart. Others are obviously juggling their list of other items they hope to get; counting pennies to get the most for the least.

The walk home is even more fatiguing than her walk to the store. It is hotter, there is more traffic, and she is carrying more than thirty extra pounds on her back. She still feels the effects of the malaise she had been suffering that culminated in her fainting spell. Getting out has been invigorating, but the adrenaline is now wearing off and Sissy is beginning to run down.

Even though the wreckage on the highway from the train derailment has been picked over several times, there are still people wading through what remains of the mess in hopes that something useful or valuable has been overlooked. The rails themselves, warped in the fire, have been replaced so that the trains can run again. The remaining debris has been pushed to either side and it is there that most people are wandering.

Sissy is nearly run over by cyclists several times in areas where there are no sidewalks. In these stretches she is forced to alternate her travel between parking lots and the curb of the road. She could have walked closer to some of the buildings lining the highway but Scott has admonished her to stay in plain view at all times. It is too easy to be suddenly pulled into a darkened storefront and get mugged or worse. It is a risk she prefers not to take.

Finally she turns into her street. Her steps pick up speed as she realizes that Scott has stationed himself at the end of their drive and is facing the direction she is coming from. It is both a physical and emotional relief to walk into his arms and let him lift the pack from her back.

“Now I know how you feel when I leave with the guys,” he says as they walk into the house with their arms around each other.

Sissy replies, “Yeah, shoe on the other foot and all that. Life sure is different than it was last year. But, if we can just hold on, things are bound to get better. “

With a smile and a smooch, Scott says, “If we hold on to each other, I don’t doubt it for a second. Did you enjoy getting out?”

“It was … educational. I’ve heard the stories. Even seen the changes taking place on our block. But getting out into the thick of things brings it all home.”

“But did getting out help? Do you feel better?”

“Yes Scott. I do appreciate getting out. I know it wasn’t easy to get these vouchers or for you to let me go on my own. It was good to get out. It just also brought it back home to me how well off we are compared to a lot of other people out there.”

What Sissy doesn’t say is that in a sense that also made her feel bad for acting so depressed when she should actually feel very blessed about how well their preps have worked out. She knows she needs to find her way out of this confusing emotional maze she is in, but things like this still set her off.

“You know we’ve got these other vouchers to spend as well. If you feel up to it, you can go each week to stretch your legs and get away.”

“I’m sure I’ll do that,” Sissy says and then sighs a bit before continuing. “Scott I do appreciate everything you’ve tried to do recently – and even before – to take care of me, and the kids. I don’t want you to ever think that I am ungrateful. I’m sorry if I might appear that way. I’m getting a handle on all of this, I really am, I just may not always seem like it.”

“Honey, relax. If you can put up with the crap I dish out when I come home from a bad day at work, I can put up with anything you have going. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the last week or so. It’s a wonder you didn’t bean me with a skillet or plant me head first out in the garden. I didn’t realize at the time that you were under just as much stress as I was. I only saw my side of things.”

“You had reason to be angry. I’ve gotten angry with some of the stupid stuff you’ve been forced to deal with. Don’t suddenly treat me like you need to wear kid gloves or I’m going to fall apart.”

“I’m not honey, I just think maybe we are both so wound up with what is going on around us, we aren’t dealing with what is going on inside us. We’ve taken the time to get the kids to talk about how they feel and to deal with their feelings. We haven’t taken the same time to do that for ourselves. I know we don’t have much privacy with things being the way they are but maybe we can figure out something even if it is just going out in the corner of the yard to have a drink or something. Man, I don’t know …”

“Scott, I think that is a fine idea. Don’t beat yourself up over this, OK? It makes me feel bad to make you feel bad.”

“That’s not what I mean honey. I don’t know exactly what I do mean, but that isn’t it. I’m just glad you aren’t feeling as bad. You would tell me if you still were?”

“I said I would and if I get to feeling as badly as I was before I will. I’m feeling more … maybe balanced or something. It’s helped that everyone has pitched in and given me a bit of a break. As far as the rest goes, I’m hoping time will put things back into perspective. Either way, I’m beat. Let’s go inside so I can show you what I bought and have lunch. I’m actually feeling hungry.”

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Thankfully tropical storm Hannah turns out to be more “hoochie momma” than “hellish harpy” though the storm did cause some problems for Galveston, Texas and the areas surrounding it. The Pelican Island Causeway is damaged, but the Galveston Causeway, which connects Galveston to the mainland, escaped damage. The Galveston Convention Center, which sits in the middle of the seawall on Seawall Blvd. and which is currently used as a health care overflow facility, sustained some damage when sections of the nearest pier pulled away during the storm and struck the building. There is also some minor flooding, but mostly in the business district. Had Hannah become a full-blown hurricane, the damage would have been much more extensive.

July has made Sissy extremely glad that she stocked as well as she did before the pandemic. Her first grocery store visit was an eye-opening experience. Her second did not change that picture one iota. They continue to harvest corn from their garden but it has been a battle trying to keep the critters out of it. After planting their corn on the east side of the house, James rebuilt an old chain link dog run around it. They also have to use chicken wire and baskets woven from wild potato vines to protect other things in the garden. Squirrels were getting through the chain link fence so they interwove razor-edged palmetto sticks to make the holes smaller and to discourage little paws. They also make garden alarms from the many, many, many empty cans they now have. It looks kind of silly to Scott, but it works for the most part.

They also harvest more watermelons and sweet potatoes, as well as the first of their pomegranates. You wouldn’t think it possible, but the family is actually a little tired of watermelon. Its not that they don’t appreciate having it, it’s just that everything seems to come all at once. This week you may sit down to squash at every meal to make sure that none goes to waste. The next week, there isn’t any squash and all you have is corn or green beans or some other crop. It can get monotonous eating the same thing over and over and over and the family occasionally has to battle food fatigue. The kids are actually threatening to boycott the next item made from zucchini. Their preps do help with this but in months like July, when they aren’t able to plant anything new because of the heat, and have harvested most of what they have already planted, it is times like this that concern Sissy with what could happen. She worries that there may come a day when she can’t figure a way to balance the meals. Her family has lost enough weight as it is, and the kids didn’t need to to begin with. Laura Cox has also come by again to remind Sissy that she shouldn’t lose any more weight if she wants to maintain her health. The “what ifs” are still keeping her up at night unless she is totally exhausted.

The local market could be a good place to try and get some diversity back into their diet, but everyone else is in the same boat they are, or worse. At least Sissy has the prep stocks of long term storage items like rice and beans. They also still have several six-gallon pails of various grains. Other families, if they have anything at all, are sitting down to only one item for every meal for days on end until the next item ripens or they can scrounge up something by scavenging.

One good thing has happened. While driving to a job the other day an elderly woman flagged Scott and the other men down. She was in pretty desperate straights and her neighbors weren’t helping at all. A water pipe burst in her yard and the city utilities shut her water off until she got the break repaired. She couldn’t’ find anyone that would repair it, or if she did, could not afford the price they were asking. Scott’s fury was very apparent as he related the story to Sissy later that night. He said all it had taken was a coupler and some PVC glue. It didn’t even take them five minutes to fix the break. He even cut the bolt off of the water main and used his water key to turn the water back on to her house. Scott said there was no excuse for what happened to her and he wondered how many other people were facing the same kind of problems. To a man they tried to refuse payment for such a small job, but the lady insisted. She said if they wouldn’t take money, would they take seeds? Finally, to make her feel better since she was determined to show her gratitude, they accepted thinking they were flower seeds or something. The lady obviously had her pride and wouldn’t give in. Scott put the shoebox in the back of the van and brought it home to Sissy.

“My God, you should have seen it! This lady was in her 70s and was taking care of her elderly mother that had to have been in her 90s. They had no electricity and no running water. She said they rarely used air conditioning so they didn’t miss it, but they missed having water from the tap. The lady was hauling water from a nearby canal. And further more, the break in that pipe was so minor and the water pressure so low that it could have probably been fixed with a piece of inner tube and some duct tape! The guys and I have agreed to run by there every other week just to keep an eye on them since their neighbors don’t exactly qualify for any humanitarian awards. What on God’s green earth is this world coming to?!”

Scott is fast boiling over remembering it, so Sissy tries to distract him by looking at the seeds. Oh, and what seeds they are. There are some flower seeds, but there are also herb seeds and vegetable seeds including a dozen different heirloom tomatoes varieties. They are all neatly bagged and labeled with the variety and storage date.

“This is a gold mine,” Sissy exclaims. “Did she look like she had a lot of plants?”

“I guess, about like our yard I suppose. Was a bit of a jungle in the back,” Scott replies.

“Then yes dear, she had a lot of plants. Before I do anything with these, I want you all to see if she really meant to give these away. I couldn’t trade for this kind of stuff for love or money.”

“They’re really that valuable?” Scott asks, perplexed.

“Scott! You see everything I go through trying to save seeds from what we harvest. That’s work; especially tomato seeds. And then when I replant not all of them are viable or breed true. With these heirloom varieties, the viability ratio will go way, way up. They will also do better as producers ‘cause I won’t have to baby them quite as much as the hybrid seeds.”

“Relax Sissy. I just asked a simple question.”

“Oh Scott, I’m sorry. I don’t really mean to take all my frustrations over the gardening out on you. I just feel so inadequate. I keep thinking I should be doing better at this than I am.”

“Honey, from where I stand it looks like things are doing well. Especially now that you are feeling better.”

“Well, let me tell you, bugs damage the plants as fast as I can stop them. I never really am able to get rid of all the pests, just try and control them to minimize losses. I know things would be better if I had more fertilizer, and I’m all but out of all that slow release fertilizer I bought prepandemic. I’m using up the compost faster than we make it. Scott I’m just at my wits end trying to figure out how to make do or do without. Watering by hand is so time consuming but necessary in this heat. And I know we’re still losing things to garden pirates even though we bring almost everything in at night.”

“Are we losing a lot? Why haven’t you told me?” Scott asks.

“Because I don’t know if the losses are from animals or from humans! The raccoon population is way down now that they are viewed as a meat source. That dog pack that Mr. D has tamed have the opossums and rats back under control and the cats no longer spray their scent every where. The squirrels are still a pain in my backside, they are too fast for most of the dogs – except that little greyhound – to catch. But, to be honest, some of the losses are too neat and selective for them to be from animals. I just don’t know.”

“Well story I heard from Serena is that a couple people have caught Bob Grinder and that loopy wife of his ‘borrowing’ things from people. Ol’ man Cleary actually threatened Grinder at the last market day in front of God and everyone. You know how even tempered the man normally is, it was shocking enough for that reason alone.”

“Surely it was just the heat making everyone foul.” Sissy says hopefully.

“No. I don’t think so, not this time. Mr. Cleary flat out told Grinder that he or his wife was going to ‘borrow’ themselves into a grave one night.”

Shocked, Sissy says, “Oh my word!”

“Yeah, and he’s not the only one that has warned the Grinders off,” Scott adds. “You know Barry can’t stand the man.”

“We don’t know if they are the ones taking stuff out of our garden.”

“No, that’s true. But we don’t know they aren’t either. Let me think on it and I’ll see if I can figure out a painful surprise to run around the top of the privacy fencing. You should see some of the stuff I’ve seen. The most elaborate was a three foot wide and three food deep trench dug inside the perimeter of a yard. Then the trench was filled with things like sharpened stakes and broken bottles.”

“Oh, that sounds awful.” Sissy says in a disgusted voice.

“Maybe so, but its been effective. The guy said he’s only had a couple of problems since he installed that set up and those he quietly disposed of at night.”

“Are you telling me one of our tenants is admitting to getting rid of people that impaled themselves on his homemade security system?!”

Scott sighs and tries to explain, “Honey, our neighborhood is a pretty good place despite some of the problems we have. There are plenty of other places that have turned being uncivilized into an art and no one thinks much of it any more. They do what they have to to survive; not all of it legal.”

This gives Sissy even more to think on and worry about.

The following week when the men stop by to check on the two elderly women, a young man greets them on the front porch.

Scott asks, “Where are the two older ladies that lived here?”

“Who wants to know?” the young man asks suspiciously.

“We were by here last week and we were just dropping by to check on them again.”

After a momentary blankness that was just beginning to make Scott uncomfortable, a light begins to appear in the young man’s eyes and then his face is transformed from wary suspicion to complete welcome.

“Oh man! You are the guys that fixed Granny and Grammy’s water! Dad! Dad! Those guys came back. Dad!”

“What’s the problem?” a man says gruffly as he comes to the door.

“Dad, these are the guys that fixed the water!”

The same transformation happens on the father’s face, only more quickly. “Hello!” he says as he reaches out to shake hands and then pulls back. “Uh, sorry about that. Old habits are hard to break. Thank you so much. Mom said she was at the end of her rope and you are the only people who stopped to help her,” he says with a strong Southern accent.

“It was our pleasure. We were just stopping by to see if they were still doing OK.”

“Oh yeah. It’s taken us six months, but we finally got clearance to cross state lines and come get them. We’re from Georgia you know. We just convinced them to pack up and let us bring them with us. Gram finally told Mom to stop being hard headed. She said, ‘You made me come live with you. Now its your turn to go live with your kids.’ And that’s what they are going to do,” the man says as his mother steps onto the porch.

“Oh lands. I was wondering what to do with all of this stuff that we can’t fit onto the truck, and here you all are. I just know you’ll find a good home for everything. What providence,” the elderly lady said in happiness.

Barry says, “Uh, ma’am we don’t want to take your stuff.”

“No ma’m we were just stopping in to see how you two ladies were doing,” Tom chimes in.

“Nonsense and don’t be so bashful. If I leave it here, someone’s just gonna trash the place. I may be old, but I’m not stupid. And I don’t want my neighbors to get it all. I could’ve overlooked a lot of things, and have mind you, but not letting my poor mother go thirsty,” the lady replies. “You have a trailer on the back end of that van, come in here and help my son and grandson get this stuff out of here. Now that I’m ready to go, I want to get out of here.” The older lady replies swiftly and surely. “Come on. I’ll fix a pan of beans to finish off the last of them out of the garden and you’ll have a good soup in your bellies.”

Scott, Barry, and Tom just look at each other then look at her son. He shrugs. The grandson says, “Best do what Granny wants. We don’t need any of this stuff. We are just taking some of it for Granny and Grammy’s sake. My mother and sisters already have our farm loaded down with all kinds of everything. The heavier the truck is the slower we’ll have to go and the more gas it will take. Just pretend you are doing us a favor.” Then he plastered a big grin on his face and says, “Besides, she’s bringing enough and I don’t want to have to do all the packing by myself.” All the men laugh and just put their backs to it while the two old ladies make sure they do it the right way.

When all is said and done, the older ladies have snipped off pieces of this plant and that plant, but then put the remaining pots onto the trailer. Really, they live a Spartan life and have little enough to pack. But there are things like gardening equipment and pots, work gloves, and some old jars and linens, more seeds, four shelving units, two bookcases, cast iron pots, and some books and magazines that don’t find a place in the back of the pickup and go onto Scott’s trailer instead. There are bushel baskets and enamel ware bowls that are considered a waste of space that go home with the men as well.

“I want to thank you again, for stopping by to check on mom and Gram. Seems like there is a lot less of that going around nowadays,” the mother’s son says as they prepare to drive off.

“In some places. In others, a lot more of it is going on than you would expect. Drive safe and take care,” Scott says. And the loaded down pick up truck leaves to join a caravan that is headed north for the state line checkpoint.

[Mr Bill]

Fine update for sure

[Dosadi]

Thanks Kathy. I just got caught up. Having flu run through the house here is taking its toll, and this is kinda spooky to be reading at the same time.

My brother down to pennsacola was telling me that last night he had over 24 inches of rain right there on the bay / ocean. in 24 hours. Set some kinda record.

Said His wife walked in and says "hon, do we have flood insurance?"

Yep.

Good and walks off.

He looked out and it was just touching the top edge of his porch and a bit into his garage. Fortunatelly it crested and is going down now.

She cracks me up how she just says something without any hype or excitement.

D.

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Its that time again. Sissy has put off going to the grocery store until the food vouchers have nearly expired. Its not that they do not need things, its that the things they need are either prohibitively expensive or they are unavailable. Scott keeps asking her when she is going to go and she knows her nervousness isn’t completely logical. After all her noise about wanting to get out and away from the house, its proving amazingly difficult to make herself actually do it.

They really do need to get either some flour or some corn meal soon. The prices are really tripping her out though. Who ever heard of a three dollars per pound for flour, at least this side of the US Civil War? Just prior to the pandemic starting, you could get five pounds of flour for under two dollars, and considerably cheaper than that if you bought your flour in bulk. There is roughly four cups per pound of flour … just enough for two small or one large loaf of bread. But to that cost you have to add all the other necessary ingredients. The cost of flour would be much higher than it already is if the US Federal Government had not instituted price ceilings. Most other staple goods, such as sugar and cornmeal, are the same way.

The issue is that when the government puts those types of price controls into effect, many producers will simply drop out of the market rather than lose money. To respond to this, the government has a couple of choices. They can either give incentives such as subsidies or they can take much more drastic steps like they did during World War II when they enacted the Smith-Connally Act, also known as the War Labor Disputes Act. This act authorizes the president to take over production facilities if companies refuses to continue manufacturing goods that are needed by the public.

This time around, the federal government is trying a combination of things – encouragement of door-yard gardens (aka Victory Gardens), price ceilings, strict rationing, federalization of food production facilities, etc. Sissy doesn’t see this as keeping food affordable so much as keeping inflation from keeping it from being totally unavailable. It feels like being between a rock and a hard place, but as difficult a situation as it is, it is far better than in other countries that are totally dependent on imports for their sources of food.

The USA has restructured its supply-demand and gross national product way of thinking and plans to keep most of its products at home for the citizens here. That means that items like computers, other electronics, telecommunication equipment, etc. – any manufacturing that used to be farmed out to countries like China and India - are very hard to come by; no more imports. On the other hand, you can’t eat a computer or telephone and right now food is on everybody’s list of priorities. A lot of people have been forced to learn to re-use, make do, or do without very quickly. Just like there were no civilian vehicles built between the years 1942 and 1945 here in the USA, luxury-item manufacturing has been suspended during this pandemic year. This has created a black market for such items, but because of economic problems and resource shortages, it hasn’t flourished to any great degree yet.

Some manufacturing facilities have been repurposed for things like repair and recycling of items similar to what they had been making before. Most however sit closed and dark, leaving their former employees struggling to find replacement income with which to feed and house their family.

With all of this in mind, Sissy waits her turn yet again in the cue to get into the grocery store. It is hard to believe that they are in the twelfth month of the pandemic. It seems that just yesterday everything was normal, yet at the same time it feels like they’ve been struggling with drastic lifestyle changes forever. The one thing that she notices this time as she waits in line is that now that August’s brutal heat is on them, people are much more irritable than before. There is always this simmering anger that seems to lurk just below the surface. God help them if they have to deal with yet one more thing, because sometimes it feels like people can’t be wound any tighter and things are going to explode all over again like they did in the opening days of the pandemic.

As she gets into the store, brightly lit because the power is on, baskets of breads and rolls are on prominent display. While she is tempted to get a loaf, she knows that she can make it herself at home so long as she is willing to put the work in. There is a chalkboard listing the fresh food items available at which she just had to take a second glance.

Shaking her head, she finally gets up the nerve to ask exactly what nutria is. The guy behind the counter grins and calls them “good eating.” He continues by explaining, “They are actually a non-native, invasive species of animal here in Florida. Nutria are members of the rodent family. Adult nutria are about 14 inches long from the nose to the base of the tail. The tail itself is 12 to 17 inches long, round, and hairless. Nutria average 15 to 20 pounds in weight. Nutria are native to South America and prefer to live in salt water shoreline mudflats and tidewaters. They can disrupt catfish farming, destroy rice and sugar fields, and disrupt flood control. Nutria tear out aquatic plants by the roots to eat them. They are destroying many hectares of marsh vegetation, such as bulrush and cordgrass. When nutria eat all of the grasses in a marsh, the ecosystem is disrupted. This damage impacts wading birds, fish, mollusks, crustaceans, and many other organisms. The roundworms infesting nutria can cause health problems for humans. The roundworm larvae are present in the water where nutria are found, and these larvae can penetrate human skin. Known as "nutria itch", severe inflammation can result, which requires medical attention.”

“Well, you’ve certainly got that down don’t you, but eat them? Come on, are things really that bad that we have to put rodent in the meat cooler?” Sissy laughingly asks with only a little credulity in her voice.

“Well Nutria occurring in the wild are clean animals. Contrary to their look-alike cousin the rat which is a omnivore, nutria exclusively consume plant life; they are strict herbivores. They are like cows in that respect. Also, in addition to Chef Philippe Parola, many premier Louisiana chefs created nutria dishes, including Chef Paul Prudhomme, Chef John Folse, Chef Enola Prudhomme, Chef Suzanne Spicer, Chef Daniel Bonnot, Chef John Besh, and many more! So you could actually say that Nutria is a delicacy.”

“Maybe so, but I’m not that adventurous yet,” she laughs. “I’ll stick with another three pounds of that Chorizo. And send complements to who ever delivers it. That is some of the best chorizo that my husband said he has ever eaten and he is of Hispanic decent.”

“I’ll tell the store manager. Anything else for you today?”

“Hmmm. How many pounds of flour and cornmeal can I get?”

“Ten pounds of each or 15 pounds of one.”

“Give me ten pounds of each. And I’ll take my limit on all of the fresh fruit on the board except I only want one avocado.”

“Anything else?”

“How much is sugar going for and how much can I get?”

“Sugar prices are on the board over there. Your best bet is to get the sugar cones. They are made of 100% pure brown cane sugar just like the colonials used to receive from the Indies and Caribbean. There are about seven ounces in each cone and it has a molasses taste just like the originals would have. You use them by grating the sugar off in the amount you need. Due to sugar melting in a lot of the hot humid climates of the Caribbean and places like Central and South America, that is what you still find today instead of white granulated sugar. Some people claim it is even more nutritious than the refined sugars. They are called Piloncillo if they are shaped like a cone and Panela if they are shaped like blocks.”

“Ok, “ Sissy laughs “you’ve sold me. Give me my full ration on the sugar cones.”

The store manager looks over and grins. It is a good day for him as the power is on and the bread is selling. Sissy, pointing to her checker, says, “He’s good.”

“Yep. That boy could sell snowballs to the Abominable Snowman,” as he smiles at the next customer who steps up.

Sissy is tempted to ask about the fresh vegetables like corn and tomatoes, but she has canned tomato products at home and they pulled fresh ears of corn just yesterday. She doesn’t want to buy just because she can. As it is, she feels she has over spent this time. That boy really is a good salesman.

After Sissy checks out and is walking home with her extremely heavy pack, she thinks about how much she wanted to buy some fresh meat. The thought of grilling a steak or pressure cooking a roast is just about turning her stomach inside out. But, she has to be practical. There is still plenty of canned meat, commercially canned and home-canned in their pantry . . . or at least enough to last a good long while yet as they are not eating as much as she had planned for. She also hasn’t broken into much of the TVP (textured vegetable protein), and she has about a dozen #10 cans of that.

Sissy would love to get more pasta and rice, but doesn’t know if that is likely or not. Wonder if someone in the neighborhood can give her some pointers on making her own pasta? Every time she has ever tried, hers always turns out a little thick and tough, more like thin dumplings than what she intends.

As she turns onto her street, there is Scott again, waiting for her return. “Power is on! The kids are filling up all the containers and I washed out those two extra barrels of soda syrup that I brought home the other day.”

“Hurray! The power was on at the store too. Hey, you didn’t throw that syrup away did you?!”

“Nope. The girls boiled some jars first thing and I emptied the syrup into those. I used those big gallon jars though instead of your other ones.”

“Oh . . . you . . . are . . . good,” Sissy teases. “Seriously though, thanks for thinking of that. I know it looks like I’ve got a ton of empty jars, but they’ll go fast once the new produce is planted and begins to produce. Plus, I never know what you are going to bring home from work. Better to be safe . . . “

“Than sorry. We know, we know,” he grins.

“OK smarty pants, then help me get this stuff in the house. It weighs a ton. And you will not guess what they are selling in the meat market!” Sissy exclaims.

They walk into the house while Scott listens to how her trip went, shaking his idea at the thought of eating a rat’s cousin.

------------------------------------------------------

Ship’s Log

Argh! I can’t believe I mislabeled an entire bucket of cornmeal!! I had it labeled self-rising and it surely wasn’t. Of course I didn’t figure that out until after I had baked two large skillets of cornbread.

Only instead of cornbread I wound up with two big round cornmeal plates. It was nearly crispy-crittered but at least I saved it on this side of edible.

I was so mad and upset I cried like a baby for a minute or two. This is the kind of mistake we can’t afford for me to make. There can be no wasting of food. So I made do the best I could. Not having anything coming in from the garden is scary, but I managed to make a reasonable facsimile of something fresh.

Black Eyed Pea Salsa

1 can black eyed peas, rinsed & drained
1 can black beans, rinsed & drained
1 can whole kernel corn, drained
2 1/3 cup salsa
½ cup chopped onion
1 small can chopped olives, drained
1 jalapeno pepper, seeded & chopped
1 envelop Italian salad dressing mix
1 t. ground cumin
1 t. garlic powder

Combine everything in a large, glass bowl.

I’ll admit it wasn’t a perfect solution but for a treat I made sour cream out of some of our powdered milk reserves. The whole mess made a passable mid-day meal, even if it was different than what I originally planned. I just hope I haven’t mislabeled anything else.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Today’s Fresh Picks

Meats
Nutria (water herbivore)
Alligator - Tail
Wild Hog – prime cuts
Wild Hog – economy cuts
Beef Chorizo (sausage)
Beef – prime cuts
Beef – economy cuts

Fresh Fruit
Avocado
Atemoya
Guava
Mango
Passionfruit

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Thirty-Nine

True to his prediction, Sissy’s brother moved his family to their parent’s home. The word from her sister-in-law is that it is turning out to be a really good decision for everyone involved. Her parents are now getting the physical help they need with the upkeep of their garden and home. Her brother can now rest easier knowing that his family is out of an area that was very unsafe. And everyone is generally happier, though there are the natural adjustments that come from combining two households into one.

The only real fly in the ointment is that Sissy’s oldest nephew refused to go. He chose to stay with his mother and friends. He didn’t want to move to some “hick town in the middle of no where, away from friends, to work like some white slave.” Her brother is heart broken, but knows that he cannot forcibly take his son without severe repercussions and at nearly 16 the boy would fight him tooth and nail the whole way and just run away the first chance he got. Her brother says that he’ll do his best to keep in contact with the boy, despite his resistance, in case he changes his mind but by that time it could very well be too late for anything to be done. It broke Sissy’s heart to see her brother crying as he pulled out after leaving their car at her home for safekeeping. The pandemic was not just hurting families; it is tearing some of them apart.

August has been an exceptionally wet month. Its normally the wettest month of the year in Tampa any way with an average of eight plus inches of rain, but this year they might well break some records. The plants and trees love it, but combined with ninety plus degree heat, it’s like working in a sauna with no relief even in the shade. It’s very, very draining and dehydration is a constant specter. Sissy tires easily though her health continues to improve. James and Johnnie seem to feel the heat more than the girls do and often lay down when Sissy does. The girls, and Scott when he is home, prefer to find a quiet corner and read or make something to go in the family journal, rather than napping during siesta time. Despite the curfew, most people now prefer to travel in the pre-dawn and just past dusk hours. Even trying to take a bath to stay cool is like sitting in warm soup. The concrete floor in their lanai seems to be the coolest place and Sissy tries to keep it as clean and clutter free as possible so whoever needs to can peel out of their clothes and lay down and soak up some of the coolness.

Despite the heat and humidity, Sissy is taking the opportunity to do a little early planting. When most areas are winding down their planting and harvesting schedules, central and south Florida's is just really getting started. Scott and Sissy learned their lesson last year and have really done a lot to expand their garden. This month Sissy plants broccoli, okra, a handful of potato varieties, pumpkin, radishes, a couple of winter squash varieties, and sunflowers. The family is missing salad greens in their diet so she plants a couple of boxes of arugula and mesclun greens mix, hoping that by keeping them in the shade during the hottest part of the day they won’t wilt before the are big enough to harvest.

One of Sissy’s gardening challenges is that they have a really large number of tomato seedlings to plant . That box of seeds that the older ladies gave Scott has turned out to be nothing less than a treasure trove. She has started several hanging baskets of cherry tomatoes. There are also about 10 other varieties of tomatoes that she needs to transplant. In fact, her seedlings came up so well that she has given some to Barry and Tom’s families as there is no way she has room for them all in her yard.

Even though Sissy does a lot of planting, she hasn’t been able to harvest very much. They did finally get their first couple of chayote from the vines that they started nearly a year ago. The vines stretch all down the fence on one side of their property. They were so heavy they had to add more supports to keep the vines from pulling the fence down. Chayote is very versatile and a member of the squash family. It is shaped something like a pear but has a taste and texture that is closer to a water chestnut. It is usually eaten fresh or baked but you can also mash it, fry it, boil it, or pickle it. You use it about the way you would summer squash. Sissy won’t say it would ever become a favorite for her family, but it gives them some welcomed variety at the dinner table.

The elderberries are almost ready to pick again as well. Since no one has really been mowing around the ponds and canals, the shrubs have gone crazy and put out a lot of shoots. But most bushes won’t produce until they are two to three years old. With all the new green growth, the berries are fairly well hidden unless you know what you are looking for. And Sissy definitely knows what she is looking for. It will just be a matter of getting to them without anyone else noticing. That might be a problem with the neighborhood men patrolling around the community garden. She’ll have to do this at night, which is risky, but hopefully worth it.

They do get some guava off of their containerized guava tree. It isn’t much, but it adds variety to the breakfast table. Even though the container they are growing the tree in is huge, they’ll never get as much from it compared to what they could eventually get from a tree planted directly in the ground. But, guava trees are frost-sensitive and completely lose their foliage if temperatures get below 30 degrees F. While those temperatures are hard to imagine in the August heat, they aren’t unheard of in January around in this area.

Their fig tree is also in a container and has its first few fruits ready for harvest. The fig is much more cold hardy than the guava but frankly they just don’t have the room to plant it in the ground. A container can be moved to different locations to take advantage of the seasonal weather. This way Sissy doesn’t have to worry about roots growing into their septic system field.

Sissy continues to harvest pomegranates from the containerized bushes and will hopefully continue to do so until November. The bushes make a lot of very pretty blooms, but they aren’t making near as many fruit. Seems like the bees are busy pollinating everything in the yard except the pomegranates even though its flowers are a very pretty red color. Sissy also continues to harvest every papaya she can as it turns yellow.

The last unusual fruit she harvests is from her Jujube tree. It is also known as the Chinese Date. The fruit from this tree can be harvested at two stages for two distinct flavors. At its just-turned-ripe stage it tastes something like a green apple. If you allow the fruit to stay on the tree until it is overripe, it tastes like a date. Either way, its worth the experiment it was to spend the time and money to cultivate it. It ripens right when most of the domesticated vegetables are between harvest cycles.

They continue to harvest a bit of corn, but the heavy rains and extreme heat is beginning to cause the stalks to wilt so Sissy expects to pull the stalks out of the ground soon and throw them into the compost pile. The only other thing they harvest is something that Sissy just took a chance on. It is called cardoon. It resembles a bunch of flat celery but is a member of the thistle family. You have to first boil or bake the stalks to tenderize them (this takes about thirty minutes) and then you batter and fry them. It is supposed to be a popular delicacy in some areas, but her family really doesn’t think all that much of it. Maybe if they were fonder of artichoke which is also a member of the thistle family. They probably won’t grow it again, so Sissy has allowed some of the flower heads go to seed and Scott takes them over to the neighborhood market for sharing if anyone is interested.

It seems strange to be picky when food is so expensive or hard to come by. Sissy is grateful they have the opportunity to be picky as weird as that sounds. She would hate to survive by eating things like cardoon and those nutria rodents no matter how much of a gourmet delicacy they may have been prepandemic. She would if she had to of course. She’d feed her family palmetto shoots and armadillo – both of which are edible – if she had to. She’s just glad she doesn’t have to.

Next month Sissy won’t get a chance to harvest much from the garden either. It isn’t until October that they will really start being able to live out of the garden again. Sissy hopes between now and then that all their long-term prep foods hold up. Having enough to go around for her family’s meals is a constant source of concern. Her own weight loss, which had leveled off after Laura Cox’s intervention, has started happening again. Scott isn’t pleased but even a little work in this heat really burns up the calories. Some weight loss is to be expected, she’ll just need to make sure everyone’s is kept in check, including her own.

To mark the one year anniversary of the pandemic, a couple of the local television and radio stations do “the year in review” type shows, but the broadcast takes place while the family is without power. Some of the television stations simulcast with the radio stations, but the speakers on the shows refer to charts and pictures so often that the radio versions don’t make much of an impact on the listeners. By and large, it is nothing more than rehashes of old news bulletins, presidential speeches, and congressional debates. Sissy isn’t sure if anyone will every really know the full impact of this pandemic year; certainly not for many years to come.

Starting one of the family’s morning educational discussions Scott asks the kids, “What did you think of the show last night?”

“I think we could have put a better one together just using people here in the neighborhood,” answers James.

“I didn’t like the simulcast aspect. They kept referring to some Power Point presentation. Couldn’t they have at least explained what they were referring to for those of us who were listening to the radio broadcast?” asks Rose.

“I didn’t like how they kept putting on people that cried,” says Bekah.

Sarah agrees and adds, “Yeah, that was totally creepy. I mean its sad and all but everyone already knows that. Then on top of the people in the interviews crying they had sound effects of little kids crying. The baby crying sound was the worst.”

“You are all right. They could have done a much better job on the show. But it reflects the fact that a lot of industries, including the entertainment industry, has lost a lot of their skilled and talented laborers,” responds Scott.

Sissy adds her opinion by saying, “It was also probably due in some part to there not being an adequate liaison between the two medias. Television is very visual, radio is strictly auditory. More knowledgeable production staff would have realized the problems before the show was aired. The whole thing seemed rushed and amateurish compared to what was produced prepandemic.”

Rose then mentions, “They are having the same type of problem in my college classes. They are re-using some audio lectures they used last semester and some of the lessons don’t make sense because the visuals are missing. I got bumped by one of the TA’s in the science department asking me if I would TA for the Freshmen English I forum because so many questions were being posted that the professor in charge couldn’t keep up.”

“How did they get your name? You’re a new student and technically a freshman yourself.”

“They went through the student body records and any one that made A’s in both FE I and FE II are being contacted. When I explained I took those classes as a dual enrolled student and told them my age, they didn’t care. All they cared about was my grades in those two classes and my overall GPA. The fact I have an academic scholarship only put me higher on the list. They are desperate for help with the forums.”

“Are you going to get a stipend or something? Most TA’s do,” asks Scott.

“I think this is all voluntary but with extra privileges.”

“What kind of privileges?”

“I’m not sure. But they mentioned we might be able to access old exams from the classes we are taking as well as free access to their electronic libraries at the main campus branch and the science library including all of their academic journal subscriptions.”

“It would be nice if they would help with the cost of books.”

“I don’t know Dad. This just happened. Its being put together really fast so all the details haven’t been hammered out.”

“If this is something you want to do, fine. But don’t let it affect your own GPA or interfere with your responsibilities here at home,” Scott says, giving his permission.

“No sir. I won’t. I don’t want to risk my academic standing or I’ll lose my scholarships. And I know Mom can’t do everything.”

After a breakfast of muffins made with the help of some Amish Friendship Bread starter, Rose heads off to her room after collecting her laptop battery from the solar recharger. Sarah and Bekah get their own school projects and sit with Johnnie while he plays with Legos. James and Scott go to hang up the solar shower bags for the day’s hot water supply. James prefers doing his schoolwork later in the day, after his chores are all done and the girls and Johnnie aren’t underfoot so much.

This leaves Sissy to clean up the kitchen and go through what little bit of fresh produce they still have to see what needs to be used up first before it spoils. Just as she is putting the last dish into the dish drainer to dry, there is a knock at the door.

“Sissy, its Laura Cox. Have you got a minute?”

Sissy quickly goes out the front door to find Laura looking even more serious than normal.

“Hey Laura. Let’s sit over here out of the sun. The look on your face says something is up.”

“Not really. I just came by to see how you were doing. Tom said except for the heat we’re all suffering from you looked a lot better than you did there for a while. I wanted to see for myself.”

“I am better, thank you for asking.”

“You sure you aren’t just saying that?”

“No. I really do feel better. I was letting myself go too much. I freaked Scott out pretty bad and I still catch him watching me like he’s afraid I’m going to fall apart again.”

“No more bad days huh?” Laura asks like she trying to catch Sissy in a fib.

“I’d be lying if I went that far. I still get the weeps every once in a while. I finally said something to my aunt. She used to work at the Kentucky State Hospital, and she mentioned something I’d never even considered.”

“What?”

“She asked if I was perimenopausal or having hormonal issues. I told her I was still too young for that but she told me my cousin, her daughter, had gone through menopause before she turned 45. I’d had no idea and don’t know if early menopause runs in the family or not. My mom had a hysterectomy in her 40s for fibroid tumors so she would have no idea if she would have experienced early menopause. ”

“Do you think that’s what the problem is?”

“Oh I don’t know. I don’t have any other symptoms of menopause. Even my monthlies got regular again after my weight loss leveled off. It could be part of it I suppose but I’m pretty sure its not the biggest part. Mostly I think it is being unable to take care of myself the way I should. But we are all in that boat. Add fear, anxiety, you name it. Looking back I was running on autopilot and I’m pretty lucky something worse than passing out didn’t happen. But enough about me, what put that look on your face when you first got here? It really does look like something is bothering you.”

“I was fine coming over here. I needed to get out of the house, my oldest is better but he still is driving me nuts with his constantly overprotective behavior. He even snapped at Tom this morning. He is displaying signs of OCD and it just makes me crazy that I can’t do anything to help him beyond what we are already doing. But then I had to run into Bob Grinder.”

“He’d put a crimp in anybody’s day. Wait. He didn’t, you know, accost you are anything did he? Tom, Scott, and Barry will blow a gasket.”

“No, not really. But would you believe this? He was drunk!”

“Drunk?!” Sissy exclaims in shock. “There is no way that man has been holding onto liquor all this time.”

“If he wasn’t drunk he was on something. He wasn’t falling down stupid or anything, but he would definitely have failed a field sobriety test.”

“Lord, that’s all we need around here. A drunk.”

“A belligerent drunk. He was spouting off at the mouth with that nasty Vince Johnson. They were talking about something and how everyone was gonna owe them big.”

“Good grief! You don’t happen to know when Barry Jr. is going to be back around do you? I hate to bother him when he is off duty but this sounds like trouble waiting to happen.”

“Yeah. A lot of people in the neighborhood have lost patience with Grinder and his wife. We’ve managed to avoid major problems with them so far, but it wouldn’t take much to tip the scales. You saw what happened to Vince when people found out he was bringing home those underage girls and letting them stay in the house and eat in exchange for sex.”

“I heard about it but never saw him. Did anyone finally find out who it was who kicked the crap out of him?”

“You haven’t heard?!” Laura asks conspiratorially.

“Scott’s tight as a clam about it so I stopped asking.”

“It was his own brother! After Mr. Johnson died in that diabetic coma, Vince apparently started terrorizing his grandmother. She finally got up the nerve to call her son, Vince’s dad. Vince’s brother shows up the next day, beats the living hell out of Vince, throws this naked girl out onto the lawn and while they’re both lying there senseless, packs up their grandmother and all her belongings and leaves, nearly running over Vince in the process.”

“If it wasn’t anyone here on the block, I wonder why Scott wouldn’t tell me?” Sissy wonders.

“It happened not too long after you collapsed. Everyone was refusing to talk even if they had witnessed it because Vince tried to bring a complaint against his brother and no one wanted to cooperate with it.”

“Scott did say that Barry Jr. said he’d arrest Vince if he found him with another under-aged girl, whether she was willing or not.”

“Yeah. I heard that too. So far he hasn’t, at least not around here. Look, I didn’t mean to stay so long, my son is going to be going bonkers. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Thanks for thinking of me,” Sissy says appreciatively. “I don’t want you walking back by yourself if Grinder has a toot on. Let me get Scott.”

“No. Really its all right.”

“Uh uh. You know Tom wouldn’t let me walk back by myself under those circumstances. Besides when Scott hears about this you know he’s gonna get the guys together anyway. Might as well let him make your house the first stop.”

“Oh all right. Maybe he can keep Tom from decking Grinder. Tom is to the point he is starting to hate that guy. He is still living in his grandparents house and its just two houses over from us on the opposite side of the road.”

****

Scott comes back a couple of hours later to report, “By the time we tracked Grinder down he was counting daisies under a tree, high as a kite and barely lucid.”

“I don’t know who is more disgusting, Grinder or Vince Johnson. I know every neighborhood has at least one bad apple, but why did we get stuck with those two?”

“You shoulda heard a couple of the guys. They said he might be counting daisies today, but if Bob or Vince get caught bothering another female no matter what her age is, they’re gonna find themselves pushing up daisies.”

Sissy rolls her eyes and says, “Lovely. I take it those two have finally pushed everyone passed forbearance.”

“Yeah buddy. And Grinder just grinned like an idiot when we tried to find out where he had gotten the liquor from.”

“He wouldn’t say or was he too drunk to answer?”

Scott just shrugged. “Barry said he might not have been drunk ‘cause as bad as he stunk, he didn’t stink like a drunk. And it wasn’t marijuana ‘cause that has a distinctive smell also.”

“Well then what could it have been?”

“Don’t know but Barry’s got a call out to his son. We’ve got a good thing going on our block. Drugs is something that could mess it up quick and bring in violence that no one wants.”

Scott and Sissy both agree with that. For the rest of the day, as they go about their chores, they check all of their security measures to make sure nothing has been compromised or needs reinforcing. It is a sorry day when on top of everything else, they have to start worrying about addicts and pedophiles living in their neighborhood.

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Forty

What a horrible day this has turned into. Despite all of the extra rain, most families in Tampa must still rely on water from local lakes, ponds, and canals for some of their needs. Due to the heat, some people also go down to the water to cool off. Once Sissy finds out how many people are doing this, she refuses to use water from the ponds and canals around their neighborhood, even for watering the garden. The danger of contamination is too great. Because of this Sissy rarely thinks about what else could go wrong with being around the local “wild” water sources. Sissy has enough problems of her own to solve and knows that Scott has tried to warn people in the neighborhood to be careful. At a certain point, you have to let people take responsibility for their own choices.

But people who were using those water sources should have given it more thought. Other people should have remembered that this is Florida; and that there have been sightings of dangerous wildlife in their neighborhood almost every year for as long as anyone can remember. Obviously, need warred with common sense as did the “it can’t happen to me or mine” thought process.

Earlier in the day, three brothers went down to the canal behind their house to wade in the water. Afterwards, the boys said they were down there for just a minute when the youngest was pulled down and out into the canal. The boys’ screaming immediately drew responses from every adult within earshot. What they see when they arrive is like a scene from a horror movie. The two older brothers are struggling to pull the youngest from the water. No matter how hard they struggle, they can barely keep him from going under much less get him to dry land. Attached to his leg, just below his knee, are the jaws of an alligator.

The adults all run down the embankment, men and women, and wade in to save the boys. Some grab the boy and pull and some commence to beating the gator in hopes of running him off. Mr. Jones tries to stab the animal with a sharp pitchfork but is swept off his feet by the thrashing tail. Mr. Cleary is beating the animal with a baseball bat until he too is dunked.

Tom Cox, whose great grandfather was a Seminole Indian and who has hunted gators down in the ‘Glades, is able to get a line on the alligator. He lets the animal roll until he has wrapped himself all up in the rope. This gives everyone a way to pull the animal to the bank, which will get the boys to dry land.

The animal continues to try to roll so several men pile on him and Barry strikes the back of the gator’s head several times with a sledgehammer. The animal finally releases his jaws enough so the adults can obtain the boy’s release. All of this terror and work and it was only a four foot gator. They would not have been able to subdue anything larger in time to save the kid.

What an awful sight. The boy’s leg is obviously broken and is mangled. He is in shock with a thin, reedy pulse. While some of the adults get him stabilized and wrap the leg, Tom Cox runs to get his pick up truck and Scott runs to get a can of fuel. They both meet at the canal bank and they get the boy and his parents loaded into the truck bed and head off to the fire station that is about 2.5 miles down US41.

The other two boys are left in the care of the neighborhood. They are understandably shaken and have scrapes and cuts of their own where they fought for their brother’s life. Their wounds are washed and fussed over by everyone. They are given a hot sweet drink and put in the shade and are not left alone for even a moment. They are prodded to eat and held when they cry. Even the oldest, a highschool junior who played varsity football, sheds more than a few tears, scared to death his baby brother is going to die.

At the fire station, the boy receives immediate attention. In a lucky turn of events, one of very few seen on this day, a doctor has been temporarily assigned to the station as an experiment to try and give some relief to the community clinics. As bad as the leg is, the doctor still opts to treat him in an open-air operating room rather than run the risk of cross infection at the hospital. In the boy’s weakened condition, he is a prime candidate to get influenza or some other infection like MRSA.

The doctor makes no promises, but does his best to save both the boy and his leg. After the wounds are cleaned and treated, the leg is stabilized with a splint to allow for daily cleaning and re-bandaging. The parents are given strict instructions on wound care and what to do at the first sign of infection. Unfortunately pain medication is in short supply. They give the boy what they can, but it will only last about 48 hours. Antibiotics are impossible to come by right now so it will be even more important to clean and dress the wound with the utmost care. There is still a greater than even chance the boy will lose the leg anyway, even under the best of care. They will know within the week at the latest.

Returning home, they found the gator already skinned and the meat prepared for a “Stone Soup” gathering. Several families have donated what medical supplies they can pull together for the boy’s care. Several with some wound care experience volunteer to help spell the parents so they can get some rest.

The parents of the boys thank every one for helping and then settle in for a few long days of waiting for signs of infection. Tom drives his pick up back to his house, Scott dumps a couple gallons of fuel in it and then he walks home to his own family.

“How is the boy?” Sissy asks anxiously.

“He’ll live, if they can keep any infection from getting out of control. I think the doc was calling it sepsis or something like that. He might still lose the leg. No one is sure right now. The doctor they have up at the station came close to just amputating the leg from the knee down.”

“Oh my Lord. What are the chances of infection?” Sissy asks in a horrified voice.

“Pretty good unfortunately. That canal isn’t real clean and neither is a gator’s mouth. They gave the kid a shot of some kind of antibiotic but there weren’t any pills for him to send home. The boy had a tetanus shot at his last school check up so that part was OK. Even if they can deal with any infection, his bone was snapped clean in two, and they set it without benefit of x-rays. So while it might heal, it more than likely will need to be re-broken and set some time down the road. Worse though is the muscle and soft tissue damage. He’ll definitely need some kind of extensive work and therapy, but who knows when he’ll get it.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

“Everyone in the neighborhood is pitching in. Serena and Anne have started a big tub of washing for everyone’s wet and muddy clothes. Mr. Cleary has stretched the gator hide to make something for the boys, a memento of some sort I guess. Mr. Jones has posted a warning sign and has gotten on his bike and is spreading the news about what happened. Don’t bother calling or sending a telegram … just tell Jonesie. People are volunteering to sit with the boys, help with meals, work in the family’s garden, and whatever else they feel led to do.”

“Count me in. I can fix some broth and I’ll take it over.”

“Uh uh. No you won’t. You can make the broth, but I’ll take it over, “ Scott snaps.

“Excuse me?!” Sissy says, rather taken aback by Scott’s sudden change in tone.

Scott bends his head and rakes his hand though his hair, something he only does when he is under a lot of stress. “Look. I didn’t mean to bite your head off. Its just we’ve gotten all off track from our social distancing plan. You’ve gone to the grocery store four times now. It eats me alive each time you go. And we are exposing the kids . . . “

“I wear a mask and gloves and they don’t let anyone in who is cou . . “ Sissy says, trying to allay his fears, before Scott cuts her off.

As Scott begins pacing he says, “I don’t care. Things have got to change. I’m not being as careful when I come home from work either. People are still getting sick. The EMTs up at the fire station were telling Tom and me some stuff. I just don’t want to take any more unnecessary chances. I know you and the kids, especially you, have gotten used to getting out more and I am sorry. But I couldn’t live with myself if something happens to any of you, especially this late in the game, just because we got complacent.”

After staring at Scott and realizing how serious he was, she accepts this is a non-negotiable issue for him – for now any way. Sissy capitulates with more grace than she feels like for Scott’s sake. She gives him a hug and goes inside to fix the broth. And she tries really hard to not get bent out of shape. She knows Scott is just trying to protect his family. But it isn’t easy for her to keep her mouth shut and the suddenness of Scott’s outburst leaves her feeling close to tears.

For Scott’s part, he feels like a heel. He knows Sissy has begun to look forward to getting out and away from all the work she has to do. He knows the kids enjoy the extra freedom they have had lately. But he and Tom talked on the way home. Neither man is comfortable with the stories they heard from professionals who should know. They realize that their neighborhood really does have it fairly good because they started working together and cooperating early on. What they had not realized was that the problems they have been seeing in the traditionally lower socio-economic areas of town where they work actually is mirrored in the “best” parts of town. According to the EMTs, some of the formerly “better” parts of town are actually even more dangerous than the formerly “bad” parts of town. Life continues to dole out surprises, usually right when you think you are beginning to get things figured out.

Both Scott and Tom expect to catch a lot of flack at home for the new rules. Neither one knows if it will be their kids or their wives who will object the most. Hopefully they’d be around to make it up for the return to stricter rules when the pandemic is over. They just want their families to live that long.

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Forty-One

Scott is as good as his word. Sissy does no more grocery runs. Scott quickly finishes off the remainder of their grocery vouchers and picks up what he can in staple items like rice and flour. He most assuredly does not relish the experience and tells Sissy that she must have really been hard up for entertainment if she did. Sissy just shakes her head and tries really, really hard not to say “I told you so.” The one bright spot here at the tail end of August is that when Sissy’s brother comes back to collect his car he also brings good news concerning her parents and some fresh produce from their neck of the woods.

Sissy’s parents have been lucky enough to get a hold of a hand pump for their potable water well. Now they have water whether the power is on or not. Her dad tried monkeying around with a 12V solar system for power, but their five acres is so treed over, especially around the house where the well is located, that he could never seem to get it to juice up. The small energy cooperative that serves their county has collapsed and their power is on every third or fourth day only because the National Guard has taken over the facilities.

Sissy’s parents still continue to collect water though because it is what most people do and they don’t want to draw any unwanted attention to themselves. They have even covered the pump with a small well house to make it as inconspicuous as possible. They wouldn’t mind sharing, but some people take advantage, and its just safer to fly under the radar when you have something most other folks don’t. The doctor knows, but as a former military flight surgeon, he isn’t so idealist as you would expect and has done his part to keep the secret, especially as he directly benefits from it.

As her brother couldn’t stay long they quickly unload the produce, load the car into the trailer and then they watch as he drives off. At least this time Scott has a chance to see his brother-in-law and to ask his own questions about how things are going around the state. He has a vantage from his trucking that a lot of people don’t. There are pockets of abject misery, but most people are doing the best they can and are getting by . . . but it is a far piece from the way things used to be.

Sissy’s brother did mention a funny incident. Seems he actually got to meet Devon McLoud, the travelling reporter. He had pulled his rig over, waiting for a checkpoint to open up near I95 outside of Jacksonville, and McLoud was walking down the long line of semis asking the drivers what they had seen and heard on their trips. Some of the truckers were offering up tidbits of news that the general public might not otherwise hear.

For their part, Scott and Sissy put together some rice, ears of corn still in their husk, some chayote, and some sugar and a small jar of honey for her brother to take back with him. From her parents they received the last of the blackberries that her mom had been able to pick, six five gallon bucketfuls of canning pears, grapes – both domesticated and Muscadine, and about a bushel and a half of peaches. Sissy makes a mental note to try and arrange for her brother to come by when the citrus starts coming in. Citrus is something that her parents live too far north to grow. Her dad can’t eat the grapefruit because it interferes with his cholesterol medication, but she is sure they would appreciate some oranges or lemons.

The grapes the family eat fresh with gusto as Sissy’s grape vines never did make any more fruit. The blackberries are eaten fresh too as there weren’t that many of them. The peaches and the canning pears Sissy preserves in light syrup or makes into fruit butter for spreading on homemade bread or biscuits. All the scraps are a welcome addition to their compost pile.

They add what Sissy’s brother brought to their own harvested fruit. First the lime trees are making quite nicely despite being in barrel halves. Their containers aren’t pretty but they appear to be doing the job. They have already picked nearly two dozen small, tart fruits. Sissy candies the peel and adds it to their collection of homemade treats for the kids.

Sissy also harvests the fruit off of this really unusual bush called a Jaboticaba. Sissy has two of these in containers and they are really bizarre. The fruit grows on the trunk of the bush rather than at the tip of the branches. The fruit looks like a really dark, thick-skinned grape that is about an inch in diameter. The fruit pulp is also similar to a grape in that it is soft and gelatinous. Unlike the grape however, you don’t want to eat the skin as it has a high tannin content. You peel the skin off and eat the fruit pulp fresh. You can also make jelly and wine from the pulp but for Sissy that’s just too much work right now.

It blows Sissy’s mind some times. First there is abundance after weeks of slim pickings and everyone is happy and content again. Then the pendulum swings back and now there is something else to worry about. Hurricane season is not over and though it has not been quite as active with named storms as was predicted, there is a storm on Florida’s horizon again. This one is proving to be even more unpredictable than Edouard, and it’s not because of meteorological ineptitude. Every time they think they have a track for it, it swings a different way. As a result of its wandering pattern it is getting stronger because it is remaining over warm waters longer. Everyone is getting nervous and there is a lot of talk around the neighborhood about what they can do if the storm heads their way.

Just to be on the safe side, Scott and James begin a pre-storm inspection routine. They check the roof inside and out. Scott puts more roofing tar over those places where bullets came in just to be as safe as possible. There is no sense in risking damage for want of a little tar. They also dismantle the old dog kennel and take down the trellis that are currently not in use and put them in the shed. Scott remarks that it is a good thing that it is a newer shed with good hurricane tie-downs on it. It’s also a good thing that they covered the windows months ago, though it was for security rather than to prevent storm damage. Scott and his crew follow the same routine at all of the properties he manages as well as at Barry and Tom’s houses. He tells all of the tenants that they need to bring in anything that isn’t nailed down at the first sign of the storm.

For her part, Sissy goes around their garden and harvests the last of the chayote. That is the last thing to be harvested from the yard. She worries about their new seedlings but most are in containers that can be brought in. The remainder of the recently planted items haven’t even sprouted to any great degree yet. The one thing she is in a quandary about are the bathtubs that they have the potatoes planted in. Scott says to leave them until they are for sure that a storm is on the way. If it is, he will use the rolling jack and dolly to bring them in through the French doors. Scott talks to Barry and Tom and they too are feeling a little antsy about the storm that can’t make up its mind.

Barry says, “This thing reminds me too much of Hurricane Elena from back in ‘85. I was renting a place over near the Port of Tampa that year and the place had water in it passed the four-foot mark. What are they calling this storm again?”

“Josephine. That was my mother in law’s name. Pray that this storm ain’t nothing like her,” Tom replies as he theatrically shudders.

The men get a good laugh, but all twitch their shoulders like a goose has walked across a grave. As it turns out, it’s the last laugh they have for a while.

****

:”Man I am so sick and tired of everything always going wrong!” complains James.

“Honey, try and relax. Some of that is just life,” Sissy says as she tries to calm James down.

“Well life sucks then.”

“James.” Sissy says using her your-treading-on-thin-ice voice.

“Come on Mom. You can’t tell me that you are like all bubbly and happy.”

“I’m not saying things are going perfectly son. I guess everyone witnessed my melt down a couple of months ago and would know if for a lie if I tried to play it otherwise. But things are no where near as black for us as they could be. We are all healthy and still alive, we have food to eat, the bills are still getting paid.”

“Yeah right. And all of that could change tomorrow,” he says refusing to be pacified.

“James, I know things are rough. I can’t even pretend to tell you when they are going to get better. I can’t even tell you if they are going to go back to the way they used to be. But we are really blessed. It’s up to us whether we take the time to appreciate what we have or not. None of us are ever promised tomorrow. We can plan on it, but that doesn’t mean we will ever experience it.”

“Mom … ,” starts James as he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “You just don’t get it.”

“I do get it; maybe better than you think. You don’t think I’ve been depressed and anxious and everything else? What do you think all of that was about when I was getting sick? But at a certain point you have to make up your mind that no matter what happens you are going to keep trying.”

“Why?! Why keep trying when we just keep getting kicked in the teeth?” James asks in frustration.

“For all those times when we don’t ‘get kicked in the teeth.’ What about the good times you’ve had with your Dad? You would never have been able to spend as much time with him if things hadn’t turned out the way they have. You remember the long hours he used to work. Or what about everything we’ve learned on how to survive? These are the kind of skills that will last us the remainder of our days. No one can ever take that from us. What about the fact we are still all alive and together? Not everyone in your family can say that and you know it. The last we heard about your cousin is that he was picked up and is now in a prison infirmary, assuming he is even still alive. You want your Dad or I to trade places with your uncle?”

“No, but … I am just so sick of having to ‘re-use, make do, or do without’ and I’m really tired of always having to think ‘better safe than sorry.’ I’m sorry, but that’s the way I feel.”

“I’m not knocking your right to feel this way James. I am saying that when you start feeling this way, the only way to feel better is to start thinking about the things you do have and not dwell on the things you don’t. Believe me. There are days I have to go find a quiet corner and count my blessings or I’ll implode out of sheer frustration and fear.”

James continues, “Things just don’t stop. Its always something. We put all that work into fixing up the garden and we could lose it all because of some stupid storm.”

“Yes we could. But that doesn’t mean we will. Have some faith buddy. Everyone is doing everything they can. We may lose some stuff if the storm comes our way, but we’ll still have a lot of stuff in the house to get the garden going again.”

“Yeah, and if we lose the house? We are talking a hurricane here.”

“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. Your Dad and I have talked about moving to one of the rental units if that happens. We’ve got options, more options than a lot of people have. Let’s just take this one step at a time. In the absolute worse scenario we’ll move to your grandparents’ place. I don’t want to, but it could happen if we needed to. As for the rest, let’s just take it one day at a time.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

Sissy replies, “No it’s not. It’s really, really not. The wisdom I’m sharing with you has been hard won. Just don’t give up hope and faith that things will eventually work out. We may get tired, we may get sick again, we may get hungry … but for now we are doing OK. Try and just be satisfied with that for a bit.”

James sighs, “I’ll try. But, it just doesn’t seem fair that we are still going through all of this. This was supposed to be like a three-month event or something. It’s been over a year now. When are things going to get better?”

“Look son, the only thing I know is that even prepandemic things were never as quick and as easy as we wanted or expected them to be. Bad things have always happened right along with the good. Sometimes the bad things are really bad and sometimes the good things are really good. We are doing pretty much all we can to make things better for our family. We also try and make things better for the people that have turned out to be our friends. Just keep trying and one of these days you will wake up to find out the pandemic is over with. What happens after that is anyone’s guess at this point.”

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Forty-Two


Beep . . . beep . . . beep

Beep . . . beep . . . beep

The broadcasters in your area in voluntary cooperation with Homeland Security, the FCC and other authorities have developed this system to keep you informed in the event of an emergency. This is not a test.

Beep . . . beep . . . beep

Beep . . . beep . . . beep



They have been hearing that signal off and on since yesterday. Hurricane Josephine, now a category 4 storm, has been wreaking havoc on the Gulf Coast of Florida for the last two days. The storm began as a mild tropical wave off of the coast of Africa. Originally it was moving west so quickly that everyone expected it to remain disorganized and be ripped apart by wind shear. However, as it moved through the Greater Antilles it slowed down and began to strengthen, turning into a tropical depression when it was between Haiti and Cuba. After paralleling the northern coast of Cuba it became a tropical storm. After getting into the warm, open waters of the Gulf of Mexico it took less than 24 hours for it to become a hurricane.

It was making a beeline for Mississippi when it suddenly slowed and stalled out due to a frontal trough of low pressure that turned the storm to the northeast. But when the trough outran the storm, steering currents collapsed leaving behind a stalled, strengthening hurricane.

No one is quite sure which way this storm is going to go. It is nearly stationary. Rainfall totals are currently ranging from about one inch down in Key West, FL to over ten inches and rising in Manatee Springs State Park in Chiefland, FL. The outer bands of the storm are producing some strong tornadoes and several trailer parks have reported bad damage across a wide area, including two to the immediate north and one to the immediate south of the Chapman’s neighborhood. Pinellas County has been dealing with storm surge as has the entire shoreline of Tampa Bay. The last tide is reported to be seven feet above normal in the Bay, which means lots and lots of flooding and property damage all along the coast and intracoastal waterways.

There are areas of Pinellas County that have already become islands from rainfall alone, cut off from the rest of the county by more than 5 feet of water where drainage ditches and pumps are clogged and inoperative. Intersections are impassable, even if you are crazy enough to be out in the weather and give it a try. All of the Bay bridges are shut down due to high winds, further cutting off Pinellas. Major damage is being reported on the Howard Franklin Bridge and the Memorial Causeway. There are a large number of wash outs along the Intercoastal Waterways.

MacDill AFB has at least two feet of standing water all along the water way that surrounds the base. Any grounded jets and other aircraft have been tied down or moved into storm resistant hangers. Not much other information is coming in from the base.

Bayshore Drive is almost totally flooded out. All of those retirement condominiums and expensive homes facing the water always have been a disaster waiting to happen. Palmetto Beach and Hooker’s Point, two areas immediately adjacent to the Port of Tampa, are suffering appalling flooding. Because of the low-lying topography, any flooding reaches very far inland. What makes it worse is that these areas have traditionally been where the working poor lived. They saw significant revitalization during ’06 but the ’07/’08 real estate bust quickly ended the trend.

All major roadways are under flood advisory. Many secondary roadways are impassable. There have been several reported roof collapses in some commercial strip centers and warehouses in business districts. Downtown Tampa is completely flooded and the Channel 10 news building has been evacuated. Davis Island is completely cut off and that means that Tampa General Hospital will likely suffer significant damage.

Several schools, formerly used as hurricane evacuation locations, were converted to panflu treatment facilities. Now hurricane evacuees have no place to go. Not only that, the close environments of the typical evacuee facility is totally against the strict social distancing protocols that are in effect. Some churches, not strictly approved as evacuation locations, have opened their doors but are asking people to bring food and water to share as they have nothing to offer but a roof and a dry place to lay down.

So far the part of the Hillsborough River that runs through parts of Tampa and Temple Terrace is not flooding. There are a few flooded homes, but this is due mostly to people who refused to take advantage of the natural flood resistant areas when they were building. Outside of the city and into the outer parts of Hillsborough County it is another story. The Alafia River and the Little Manatee River are swollen and are expected to crest somewhere around 10 feet above flood stage. In the north of the county, the Hillsborough River, at Morris Bridge road, will likely crest at two feet above flood stage and at Zephyrhills the river will be four feet above flood stage.

Scott, Sissy, and their kids are suffering through the storm like everyone else. So far there has been no major damage that they can tell. Scott and Sissy do have to struggle out into the storm when wind driven debris is tossed into their yard or thrown against their fence. Several people must have tried to set their rain barrels up to catch water as some barrels have rolled down the road and smashed against their house. These they brought in to save damage and to see if they could be returned to their owners later on. With this wind those types of mistakes are foolhardy and will cost plenty. As the wind really began to whip that first day, Scott and James decided to go ahead and bring in everything – including the bathtubs they are using as raised gardening beds. It is a wet and muddy mess, but when the winds really start howling in the night, they are thankful to have already had the task out of the way.

Scott also closes all of the security shutters on the rear of the house and re-boarded the remainder of the windows they had been forced to open because of the heat. The security shutters are on the outside to prevent window breakage, but the makeshift security boards on the rest of the house are on the inside. So far no broken windows, but they can’t count on that staying true. If they do lose a window, Scott has some Plexiglas to patch the hole, but they’ll have to watch for wind-driven water damage until he can get it repaired.

As the storm progresses they lose a screen off of one of the windows and a screen is torn on the lanai. Scott has an extra screen in the shed for the window, but Sissy figures the lanai is going to require some darning and ingenuity to fix. Their pool, whose water level has been down over two and a half feet, is now nearly over flowing. Water is pouring in from the rain, water off the roof, and water that has swamped the backyard. For now, the canals, ponds, retention areas, and lakes that surround their neighborhood are taking all the rain and holding up. Only one subdivision close to them is being threatened. Tiffany Lakes is a newer upper scale neighborhood that has had consistent problems with flooding over the last 10 years. There are no pumps to help this time and no place to pump the water to even if they could.

Scott is worried about their septic field collapsing. He does not want anyone in the yard barefooted until things are dried out and he can tell whether anything has started bubbling up or if something nasty has been washed into the yard. Actually he wants everyone to use rubber goulashes until he says otherwise just to be on the safe side. Sissy thinks it is a good idea if for no other reason than it will keep gross stuff from being tracked inside. The outside disinfection station that they had built at the first sign of the pandemic has really come in handy. Most of their family takes showers outside now rather than make a muggy mess inside. This way, so long as it is muddy outside, they’ll clean up before coming inside to keep from tracking anything in. That is if the privacy fence walls make it through the storm intact.

When the wind really starts to kick it up a notch, Scott and Sissy move their family into the center of the house where there is a bathroom that does not have any windows. They bring a couple of twin mattresses to reinforce their protection as well as some plastic sheeting in case the ceiling begins to leak, although they hope it is unlikely as there is a double roof over this portion of the house from a previous building addition. They move all the linens out of the closet and load it as full of food and dry goods as they can manage and even put stuff in the bathtub underneath a sheet of plywood. The kids all go to sleep in there with the walls blocking the sound of the storm raging, while Scott and Sissy prowl around the house.

“I wonder how Barry, Tom, and their families are holding up,” Sissy whispers, to keep from waking any of the kids.

“They should do OK. Both are solid men and they have done as much storm prep as we have. Tom doesn’t have any trees in his yard except for some small citrus trees. The rest is just greenery. Barry has that one big tree, but he has been pruning it all year to cure wood for cooking fuel. We’re the ones with too many dang trees in the yard. I know we are bound to lose that long, tall oak that has started leaning,” replies Scott just as quietly.

“At least it is leaning away from the house. But if it falls it will block the road.”

“Well, its not like there are too many people out driving.”

“Funny dear. Ha ha. Seriously though, are you worried about any of the rental properties? I know you all spent as much time as you could at them, but with delayed maintenance items to deal with and few supplies …” Sissy’s own concern is reflected in her tone of voice.

“I’m worried about all of them; especially that one out on 113th street. That area floods in a bad rainstorm if they don’t have the pumps going. You really think they are going to be able to keep the pumps going during a hurricane?”

“We’ve done good to keep things up as well as we have. You and the guys are breaking your backs to make things better every time you go out. There is only so much we can do. You aren’t superman. “

Before Scott can reply they hear an audible crack from the front of the house and peek out to see that the top of an oak that stood in their neighbor’s yard has snapped off and landed in their driveway, just missing one of their grapefruit trees. As the last of the weak light leaves the sky, Scott and Sissy bolt the door and retreat to spend the remainder of the night watching over their children. Goodness only knows what they are going to find come morning.

****

A couple of days later Sissy finds it easier to recount their storm damage in a letter to her cousin than she did trying to tell her parents, who she luckily reached via email on the laptop the morning after the storm passed through.

Dear Sadie,

I don’t know how reliable the information is that is getting out. All our news here is local. We aren’t even hearing much from the state level. All the national and international news has been run off the air by the storm coverage. To be honest I’m not even sure when or if this letter will make it out. But, with nothing but extremely intermittent power and downed phone lines as far as the eye can see, I’m trying to let family know what has happened with whatever resources I can scrounge up.

First off, our family is very lucky to have the solar battery re-charger we originally bought for camping. And, I’m glad Scott went ahead and got the bigger one than the one that I was willing to make do with. It helps keep the cell phone and lap top batteries charged. The DSL lines are still operating, as are the Fios lines but sometimes a connection is still hard to get. A couple of cell towers have been lost, but you can still get a line if you sit and try over and over and over again to get past the busy signals. We’ve left messages and email for those we can; but, like us, many people are dealing with lost or intermittent services.

Scott and a lot of the men (and women) in the neighborhood have been doing their best to get all of the roof repairs dealt with around here. No one that we know lost their whole roof though there are news reports of some that were caused by tornadoes a little north of the county line. No one in our neighborhood even lost any roof decking, but there are some torn shingles and ripped away gutters. A couple had their ridge vents damaged and lots of folks have minor soffit and fascia damage. We are lucky, no outright leaks, but the rain was blowing so hard at one point that it was blowing into our ridge vents. As a result, the back bedroom ceiling got pretty wet as did all of the insulation immediately above that room.

We’ve removed all of the wet insulation and opened windows and attic accesses to try and get things dried out. We rigged up a kind of pulley system with an old bike and fan so we can keep the air circulating up there. Scott is trying to locate a spare car battery that we can alternate with the van charging them to use with a power converter we have. If we can do that then we can stop taking turns pedaling the bike. The heat and humidity is so bad we can only take 10 minute shifts or we risk heat exhaustion.

Everything is just so humid. I made up a chlorine solution from the pool chemicals we had left over and sprayed the rafters and the underside of the roof decking so hopefully we won’t have to deal with mold and mildew on top of everything else. Boy, does that stuff smell. I was wearing one of Scott’s painting respirators and I still got dizzy. We had to evacuate the house for a couple of hours just to let things air out. We all sat in the backyard drinking warm blackberry shrub and swatted the mosquitoes.

There are several downed trees on our street. Even if there was fuel for the chainsaws, there aren’t any replacement chains and even Scott’s are nearly too thin to sharpen one more time. Everyone is getting a real work out with hand saws, axes, and hatchets, cutting limbs and trees – some really huge – down into lengths that can be stacked for drying and curing. We lost one good-sized oak in the front yard and had two more large pieces of trees land in our driveway. Thankfully, the trees didn’t strike anything important, but they made a hideous mess to clean up..

All of the canals, lakes, and ponds flooded around here and are still well above normal, but no one that we know was flooded out. A few came close, but nothing got in the houses. The family that lives directly across the street from us is sitting on their back porch fishing for their dinner in what used to be a rose garden.

We did have one of our rental properties flood. In fact, the whole area where the house is located flooded because the city failed to keep the pumps on. It could have been worse. The water didn’t get above the baseboards and that saved the walls. Scott just had to rip out all of the carpet and padding and most of the linoleum had to come up as well. The tenant is just grateful that she still has a place to live. She said that a concrete floor is easier to sweep than carpet anyway. Thank goodness for realistic people.

Get this. Scott had wondered how to get rid of all the wet carpet and stuff when the tenant said just to leave it because someone would steal it eventually. Hard to believe, but that is exactly what happened. What on earth would people want with old carpet padding and rolls of drenched carpet? The smell alone would knock a skunk out.

Several of our other units came close to flooding and there is some roof damage at various units, but nothing catastrophic. Scott and his crew have been dividing their time between our properties and our neighbors’ houses. There is more work than you can shake a stick at and they’ve got requests that will take them ‘til next Juvember to fill if they could take all of the work orders. We keep wondering where are all the itinerant workers and self-employed people that did this before the pandemic.

The scary part is that of those people who have been paying their homeowner’s insurance, few are getting any response back from their policy carriers, us included. Lawmakers have stepped in to try and help but they aren’t making much headway either. There is something bad looming. We already knew that the life and health branches of the insurance industry have all but collapsed, but now the property insurance companies look to be going the same way. I’ve heard that even Lloyd’s of London is not paying out. Thank goodness we planned for a lot of self-insuring, but we had still hoped that we were over-reacting. We may still be in a shortfall. I have no idea if we’ll receive the recompense we insured for.

Another thing, I think we are going to be in trouble this winter if people are counting on their citrus fruit. A lot of the small, green fruits were knocked off the trees by the ferocious wind and rain. That’s not the worst of it. A lot of people’s gardens are wrecked. We didn’t lose too much that was not about ready to give out anyway since we bring in all of our containers every night. Some of the stuff I had in the landscaping took a beating, but I don’t plant anything there that isn’t really hardy. I’ve had to reset some plants, but overall the damage to our garden efforts is mild, if not exactly minor.

Our chayote vine was shredded by the wind. The entire backyard except were we built the raised beds had ankle deep water. Its still early enough in the season that we can replant, but folks will need seeds to do so. I haven’t replanted with my seedlings yet because there is still muddy places in the yard.

As far as the path the storm took, the eyewall never came any closer than 60 miles off of Tampa Bay. It finally got going north again and made landfall at Biloxi, Mississippi but it had dropped to a minimal category 2 by that time. Even so, not much info is coming out of Biloxi. They really didn’t need this. I think Josephine is down to a Tropical Wave again and is somewhere near Kentucky. My family up there say they’ll welcome the rain as they desperately need it.

Hope you and yours are still doing well. We’ve been Blessed and wish the same for you all. I’d best get up and get going as the laundry hasn’t learned to wash itself yet and there is a ton of it to do.

Your Florida Cousins

After finishing the letter Sissy asks Scott if they are going to listen to the radio. She is pretty sure the next Devon McLoud segment is supposed to be aired tonight.

As the family listens to the news, they find that weather isn’t just an issue in their neck of the woods. Many geographical regions are experiencing weather phenomena that are no longer mitigatable because of the lack of municipal utilities such as water and electricity.

Devon McLoud’s latest installment highlights the cascading and sometimes unusual effects of this. He reports that while in Colorado observing one of the new “neighborhood schools” during recess for a completely different story, one of the adult sentries guarding the complex made a signal and the teachers and older children quickly shepherded the younger children back indoors and closed all the doors and windows despite it being a warm day.

As I stood wondering what was going on, one of the young men acting as sentry ran over and told me to follow him. He rushed me back up into his sentry tower – one of a series of armed hunting blinds erected at the four corners of the school yard.

I had no idea what was going on, but suspected the sentries had spotted a danger to the children. They had, but it was not at all what I expected.

The young man pointed out a large black bear that was making a beeline towards the school. When I asked if this was a common problem, he told me that it was one of the primary reasons they installed the tall fence and sentry stations around the school.

I was aware that a wide area of the state had suffered a late freeze in June that killed off a lot of the wild berries in the surrounding hills and mountains. That was followed by lower than normal precipitation, contributing to a drought that was already in its third year. Lack of rain has dried up most of the grasses and roots. Lots of people who had counted on hunting and gathering to supplement their meager and dwindling supplies are suffering. The young man explained the rest of the situation to me.

“The lack of food has been driving the bears down into the valleys. The people still living up in the hills got hit first. Its not just garbage the bears are into, since there isn’t much of that around. Now they are so desperate they are busting into houses. The bears have gotten more aggressive the closer it gets to them going into hibernation. Bears are omnivorous, they’ve been feeding on the weak and small. Pigs, chickens, goats, you name it. They’ve also killed and partially eaten an elderly couple that lived right on the edge of the National Forest about five miles from here. And in the next town over, they’ve lost three small children to bear attacks. A friend of mine was mauled and killed right before the town put up this here fence.”

When I asked him why didn’t they just shoot the bears he said, “We do if we have to, but ammunition costs money and the bears are plentiful. They haven’t fattened up enough yet to make them worth killing for food, though some folks have tried. You also have to be real careful with bear meat because it can make you bad sick.”

Later, the man in charge of the town’s small militia force told me that their town’s goal was to hold out until November when the bears go into hibernation. “We don’t want to deplete one of the major predators. Heck, it’s the damn bears that helped us deal with the dog packs and all the feral cats. There’s a price to pay for environmental balance. We’ve been educating the town folk and we are already planning work crews to help people reinforce their home security with things like shutters, reinforced doors and the like. But that’s for the winter after we’ve gotten the last from scavenging all the empty houses and ski resorts and backyard gardens. Hopefully, when the bears and cubs come out in the spring we’ll be ready for ‘em.”

The situation faced by this town, and others like it, only re-enforces that the biology of a pandemic goes beyond the direct effects of the virus itself. A pandemic can disrupt environmental factors such as food chains and artificially maintained living conditions. These disruptions can be furthered magnified when naturally occurring, cyclical phenomena – such as weather patterns – come into play.

I’ll investigate this further as I make my way over to the Mississippi River. I’ve been hearing stories of paddle wheelers again being used on the Big Muddy, and I’m looking to ride one down to the Gulf of Mexico. I’ll let you know if I get to play Samuel Clemens or not, so stay tuned.