Holding Their Own XI: Hearts and Minds (23 page)

Pivoting the buggy and reversing course, Terri made straightaway for the chocolate treats. As she paced the short distance, the first dark cloud of the day drifted into the mother’s mind. Bishop had fought inside the very school building that was now hosting the fundraiser. That was the day the president had been killed, setting off a sequence of events that, even to this day, made her shudder.

She pushed away the memories, determined not to let the past foul what was turning out to be the best weather of the year so far. Bishop and she had survived, and that was all that mattered.

It wasn’t easy to clear her head of the negatives.

Seeing her husband arrested, on his knees, handcuffed, and accused of heinous crimes was an image no loving wife ever wanted to catalog. Waiting for traffic to clear at an intersection, she longed for the days when a girl’s wedding album and family portraits were the most vivid memories.

The worst of it all hadn’t been the threats to Bishop’s freedom. Nor was it the lonely nights when he was off on some dangerous trek. How many times had she stared out the camper’s tiny window, absolutely convinced her man would never come home?

No, by far the mental pictures that were burned the deepest… the ones that would haunt her forever… were the bodies.

Hunter somehow managed to eject his favorite blanket overboard at that moment, the act followed by a hearty chuckle from the stroller’s cockpit. It obviously was a major accomplishment, the boy giddy with his success.

Terri stopped to retrieve the worn security-cloth, exchanging the now-soiled unit for a spare she kept in the diaper bag. Kneeling to face the boisterous young man, she gently reprimanded the lad, “We’re not going to play this game, Hunter. This is the last clean one I’ve got until I can do a load of wash.”

She passed the blanket to her son’s eager, outreached hands. In a flash, with a squeal, it was sailing over the edge.

Terri managed to catch the flying cloth before it hit the ground, her quick movement adding to the boy’s delight. “Augggh! You are as hardheaded as your father,” she scolded. “No.”

Hunter seemed hurt by the rebuke, his frown deepening when mom held the blanket close to her chest as if she wasn’t going to return the projectile.

After a bit of fussing, she again handed it over. Hunter hugged and snuggled the article, and then tossed it with glee.

“You little turd,” Terri said, trying hard to keep a straight face while pretending as if she wasn’t going to return the blanket.

“Having trouble with the men in your life?” a voice behind Terri questioned. It was Chase.

Rolling her eyes, she responded, “Of course. What woman doesn’t?”

The ambassador smiled, spreading his arms wide, “What a glorious morning for a walk.”

“Hunter and I were just on our way to the school bake sale. I promised him a treat with chocolate icing.”

Chase peered up and down the street, a puzzled expression crossing his face. “Bake sale? Seriously?”

“Sure, why not? It is a great way for them to raise money. They’re trying to start a centralized textbook exchange.”

It was clear from his expression that the diplomat didn’t get it.

Terri handed her son back the blanket while issuing a stern warning to Hunter. She really didn’t want to be bothered at the moment, but then considered that it was now her job to act as a liaison. Besides, she could use the opportunity to show him a small part of what the Alliance was about. “Come on, you can walk with us and see for yourself,” she offered.

As they ambled toward the school, Terri explained. “Books are a valuable commodity these days. They’re not making any more and probably won’t be for a while. As the recovery continues, reading about how to grow a crop, fix an electrical appliance, or repair a car’s brakes is often the only option people have for problem solving.”

Chase shrugged, “Makes sense. I suppose if there aren’t any surviving repairmen in your town, and no phone service to call someone, it would be do-it-yourself or do without. But I still don’t see what that has to do with the school?”

“Our schools have been forced to change their curriculum from the old days. Yes, we still have reading, writing, and math, but we also have to teach practical skills. Our 4
^th
graders learn how to grow vegetables. In the 6
^th
grade, there is a class on small engine repair. The problem is finding enough books. Someone came up with the idea of starting a centralized book repository where school systems from all around the Alliance could trade, swap, buy, and sell with each other and the general public at large.”

Chase didn’t seem impressed. Nodding toward Hunter’s stroller, he chided, “I’m not so sure I’d want my child’s traditional education altered so drastically. What we teach to the young ones has been basically unchanged for decades.”

Terri shrugged, “Really, there’s no choice. A lot of parents didn’t come out of the downfall in such great shape. Many still barely have enough to eat, and often larger families depend on the children to work. In some cases, the kids might be the only household members who can do manual labor. Remember, there’s no Social Security anymore. No Medicare, or unemployment insurance as a safety net.”

“So how have the handicapped, sick, and invalid citizens survived? Who fed and cared for them? Who is caring for them now?”

Stopping mid-stride, Terri turned and faced him. “They didn’t survive, Chase. At least not very many. And those that did manage to live are getting by with the help of friends, family, volunteers, churches and other private organizations. Like I said, we have to teach as many people to be self-sufficient as possible, as quickly as possible. Those that can help themselves will hopefully have the bandwidth to help others.”

“Can’t the Alliance as a government help?” he asked, still mulling her responses around in his head.

“Yes, the council tries to make sure everyone has enough food at a minimum. But beyond that, there are simply not enough resources or manpower to recreate all of the services that existed before the collapse.”

Chase rubbed his chin, “Some might argue that such a government’s priorities are all wrong then.”

A sly grin crossed Terri’s face, “Others might say that the ‘nanny state’ was a big part of why it all fell apart before.”

“Touché,” Chase responded. “Still, wasn’t it Pearl S. Buck who said, ‘The test of a civilization is the way that it cares for its helpless members?’”

Grunting, Terri replied, “Yes, but she’d never experienced an apocalypse before. We have.”

After giving Chase a moment to digest her words, Terri continued pushing the buggy. Chase remained silent but kept up.

After a few more strides, he said, “I’m sorry I sidetracked the conversation. I’m having a glorious morning, and should have known better than to start a conversation about politics. Check these out.”

Terri stopped pushing and accepted a handful of photographs the ambassador had extracted from his jacket.

She saw a beautiful home sitting on a hilltop, the landscaping, although overgrown, had at one time been spectacular.

The next photo was of the backyard, a huge swimming pool and summer kitchen dominating the picture. The remaining images of the mansion were just as impressive.

“This is a beautiful home,” Terri said, thumbing through the photos a second time. “Where is it?”

“One of the men Diana assigned to help with my relocation knew of it. I guess it’s secluded, just a few miles outside Alpha. From what I understand, the owner didn’t survive the downfall, and now the place is unoccupied. The people running the Alliance’s housing assignments were saving it for someone with the resources to fix it up... bring it back to its original glory. I think I’m going to take the project on, and maybe even try to convince Washington that it would make an excellent embassy. Want to see it with me?”

Terri stood staring at the pictures of the dream home, a pang of jealousy rising in her chest. Ignoring Chase’s direct question, she responded, “I bet it would take a small fortune to get everything back shipshape.”

He waved her off, “I’ve been very lucky as far as money is concerned. I married well and have had some success in business. Fortunately, most of my assets survived the downfall, so I’m in pretty good shape, financially speaking. I wouldn’t want to cause any marital rifts, but since Bishop is out of town, you should see it with me. After all, you are my liaison, right? Plus, I’ve always valued your opinion and taste. You could help me decide.”

The rolling hum of an electric golf cart interrupted the conversation, Terri’s heart sinking into her stomach when she turned and saw Nick, along with a filthy, grime-covered Butter racing down the street. Both approaching men had “that” look on their face.

Bishop!
Something’s happened to Bishop!

How many times had she dreaded the news? How many dreams had played out a crushed, dejected Nick informing the new widow of her husband’s demise? How many nights had she sat, staring out the camper’s window, waiting for her man to come home? Terri’s hands started shaking, her legs suddenly as cold as ice.

The cart stopped at the curb despite Terri’s deepest desire that it continue down the street and pass them by. Her first instinct was to pull Hunter from the stroller, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t force her legs to work.

Nick sensed her trauma immediately. “Bishop’s okay, Terri. That’s not why we’re here.”

A flood of relief poured over the wife and mother, her apprehension staggered by a tidal wave of respite. She started to take a step toward Nick but stumbled on unsure legs.

Nick and Chase caught her, strong hands helping to steady the still-reeling girl.

Then the polarity inside Terri’s head reversed, a backlash of emotion welling up. Growling, and then striking Nick’s chest with a clenched fist, her body was racked with sobs. “Don’t you scare me like that!” she gushed between breaths.

The big operator pulled her close, mumbling, “Sorry we rushed up on you. Bishop’s okay, Terri. Really… he’s fine.”

Then Butter was there, trying to be helpful. “I just left him a bit ago, Miss Terri, honest. He’s not hurt or nothing,” the kid offered, still a little confused about what had just happened.

Terri finally composed herself, sniffing and drying her eyes, now more embarrassed than anything. “It’s okay, guys. I don’t know what came over me.”

The three men stood for a while, giving her a minute. Butter occupied the time playing with Hunter, who seemed enthralled by the equipment on his playmate’s load vest. The image brought Terri back to the moment. “So if Bishop’s okay, why are you here?”

“There’s a problem, and it involves you in a way. Grim’s been hurt and is in surgery, but he should be fine. Diana wanted to bring you in on the situation, and more specifically, what to do about it.”

“We were in one heck of a fight, Miss Terri,” Butter offered. “The men who attacked us… well… Bishop said to tell you they were almost as good as Deke’s team. Real professionals. We barely got out of there with our asses… err… sorry… our lives.”

Nick continued, “And the leader of this group of strangers claims to be Bishop.
Your
Bishop.”

“What? Who would… why…. I don’t get it?” Terri stammered, still trying to grasp it all.

Nick grinned, “And now you know why we came rushing up so rudely. Again, I’m sorry about that. I should know better.”

Terri waved him off, and then put her arms around the huge operator’s neck, pulling him down for a forgiving peck on the cheek. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t be little Miss Paranoid. We’re good.”

It was the only time Butter had ever seen his boss flush red.

Terri pointed toward Hunter and explained, “We were just on our way to the elementary school bake sale. I probably didn’t need the calories anyway. I’ll meet you back at the courthouse.”

“Bake sale?” Butter said, his attention perked. “Like in cakes and pies and stuff?”

Terri nodded with a sly grin, “Uh-huh.”

“If it will help you, Miss Terri, I’ll volunteer to take Hunter to the sale. He and I can check it out,” Butter rushed.

Nick tried to restrain his chuckle, “Umm… Butter… shouldn’t you be thinking about a shower before you go shopping?”

The young man sniffed his armpit and grimaced, then his head turned toward the school and its promise of treats. “You know, I’ll just take the little tyke with me and clean up a bit… before we head over to the bake sale. I can bring him over to the courthouse after we’re done.”

Mom nodded, “Okay, Butter, but not too much for the little guy. I don’t want to take care of a fussy fella with a stomachache tonight. Hear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

In a flash, Butter was behind the stroller, hustling toward what Terri knew would be the quickest shower in the history of bathing. As her son and the ranch hand rushed off, she could hear Butter preparing his little buddy for the experience, “We’ll try some apple pie first, Hunter. Then we’ll move on to sugar cookies, if there are any. Not to worry, though, blackberries are in season, and there is nothing finer than….”

Nick shook his head, “I remember when I could eat like that. The citizens of Alpha will be lucky if there’s enough left to feed a church mouse after that kid’s done.”