The Homecoming: Countdown to Armageddon: Book 5 (4 page)

     “Next, you’ll use sledge hammers and crow bars to tear away the sheetrock from the inside of the same outer wall. It’ll be the wall on the same side of the house where you started removing the roof supports, since the roof will now be leaning that way. Then remove the siding and plywood from the exterior of the house. When you’re done, you’ll have exposed the studs for the entire side of the house.

     “Now’s when it starts to get a little bit tricky.”

     Scarlett frowned and said, “Oh, I don’t like the sound of that.”

     “Oh, it’s not bad. I just said that because you looked like you were falling asleep.”

     “Smart aleck. I can’t help it. All your talk of plywood and crowbars just isn’t a very captivating subject.”

     Rhett said, “I’m paying attention. I don’t want to screw this up and get somebody hurt. Go on.”

     “Once you’re down to the skeleton, the rest is a piece of cake. Take a ladder and go the length of the entire wall, sawing through the top of each exterior stud. Jam a shim into each cut so it doesn’t close up on you.

     “Once all the studs are cut at the top, do the same with the studs at the bottom. Cut from the
outside in
.”

     John emphasized the last two words to indicate their importance.

     Scarlett asked, “Why? What difference does it make which way you cut?”

     “Because you can’t do the topple if the cuts are on the wrong side of the stud. I’ll explain in a minute.

     “As I said, cut the bottoms of the studs from the outside of the house going in. Jam a shim into the cut so it doesn’t close up on you, and stop about three quarters of the way through.

     “When you’re finished, you’ll have a weakened structure, but one that’s still standing.

     “When you get to this point, call me on the ham, and I’ll bring you the ropes.”

     “Ropes?”

     “Robbie and I collected twenty pieces of rope. Each piece is about thirty feet long and has several knots tied into them, about three feet apart. The knots are just so it’s easier to grip the rope.”

     “Uh… okay.”

     “The ropes go around the studs. You’ll tack nails into the back of each stud about an inch or two above the cut. The nail will hold the rope up and prevent it from falling below the cut. Each stud will have a rope, and we’ll get three or four strong men on each rope to pull the studs out one at a time. If you don’t have three or four strong men, we’ll gather some up from the neighborhood. You can return the favor when it comes time for them to clear their own land.”

     A light came on in Scarlett’s head and she interrupted.

     “Oh, I get it… like tug of war.”

     “Sort of. Just like a small man can take down a very large man by kicking him on the back side of the knee, we can topple the house by kicking the knees out from under it, so to speak. By pulling on each rope, we can go down the line, snapping the weakened studs, until the wall can no longer support the weight of the house and it collapses.”

     “And because we break the studs with ropes, we’re far enough away from the house to avoid being buried when it comes tumbling down.”

     “Exactly.”

     “But the house won’t come down completely, will it?”

     “Sometimes it will, sometimes it won’t. Sometimes, it reacts like a line of dominos. The outer wall can’t sustain the weight and collapses, and the whole house sags. That puts even more weight on the interior walls and they start to collapse one by one. Finally the whole structure starts leaning like a tired elephant looking for a place to lie down, and just falls over.

     “Other times, it won’t collapse completely. But there will be a large rubble pile on the collapsed side of the building. When that happens, it’s relatively safe to climb on top of the collapsed roof to drag away the heavy shingles. That’s where the bulk of the weight will be. Once the shingles are gone, the rest can be busted up with crow bars and sledge hammers and carted away. I’ll bring you a couple of wheelbarrows you can use to get rid of it.”

     “What do we do with all the materials?”

     “Burn what you can. The lumber can be burned in your fireplace. The plywood and rag board can be broken into pieces and burned in your fire pit in the warm months, to boil water and cook food. Most of what’s left is sheetrock and wiring. Use the wiring to repair fences or for binding. Break the sheetrock into small chunks and drop it in the rainwater runoff trench that runs behind the houses. It’ll take some time, but eventually it’ll decompose and the rain will wash it away. But you have to get rid of it because if it gets into your gardens, it’ll inhibit your plant growth.”

     “Where did you learn all this stuff, John?”

     “From living in hell these last two years.”

-4-

     Linda walked past Sara’s bedroom door and heard her sobbing. She almost kept walking, as it was her turn to relieve Jordan at the security console and she was running late already.

     But some things just can’t be ignored. One of them is a young woman sobbing in the night.

     Linda rapped on the door.

     The sobs instantly stopped. Then, a few seconds later, a plaintive query:

     “Yes, who is it?”

     Linda cracked the door open and peeked inside. Little Chris was in his crib in the corner of the room, sound asleep.

     Linda crept quietly to the bed, where Sara was sitting, propped up by two pillows. Even in the dim light of the night light, Linda could see the tracks of her tears.

     She held Sara and asked, “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

     Had it been anyone else, Sara likely would have kept her feelings to herself. But she and Linda had bonded from the beginning. And since Joyce’s death, they’d leaned on each other even more. Linda had told Sara a few nights before that she couldn’t love her more if she were her own daughter.

     “You mean, as opposed to the ditzy blonde your son dragged home like a stray puppy?”

     She’d said it with a smile, and Linda had responded, “Oh, honey, you are blonde, yes. And you can be a little ditzy. But you’re way cuter than a puppy, and you don’t pee on the couch. Not much, anyway.”

     They were comfortable enough now to share their hopes, their dreams, their regrets.

     And the little things that make a young mother sob softly in the night.

     “Oh, Mom, I don’t want to bother you with my silliness.”

     “That’s what moms are for, dear. You’ll find out soon, when Chris starts bringing you his problems. Most of them will be nothing but unfounded fears. But to him you’ll be the problem solver, the one who fixes things for him. And no matter how petty they appear to be to you, remember that to him they are monumental, and he’s trusting you to fix them for him. It’s just one of the many things to being a mom that they don’t tell you about when you go to the Department of Moms to apply for your Mom License. But it’s also one of those things that’ll give you great joy every time his little face lights up because you’ve freed him from his troubles.”

     “It won’t be so easy for you to free me from my troubles. I’m in a quandary, I’m afraid.”

     At that moment little Chris started to stir.

     “Hold that thought,” Linda whispered. She took Sara by the hand and helped her out of bed and into her housecoat.

     The pair tip-toed out of the room and quietly closed the door behind them. Sara carried the portable receiver of the baby monitor out with her, turned it on, and snapped it onto the waistband of her pajamas.

     As they passed the security desk, Linda kissed her son on the top of his head.

     “Jordan, honey, I know you’re working overtime, but Sara and I have something we’re in the middle of. Would you be a dear and man the station a few more minutes?”

     “No, Mom. I don’t mind, as long as the thing you’re in the middle of involves making chocolate chip cookies.”

     Sara rolled her eyes and said, “Oh, brother.”

     Linda said, “Chocolate chip cookies?”

     “Yes. With pecans.”

     “Well, I’ll tell you what. You work the station for another hour and I’ll bake a batch later this afternoon. Deal?”

     “Deal.”

     They went to the kitchen and poured themselves each a cup of coffee. Then they sat facing each other in the breakfast nook.

     “You know, you spoil that boy rotten.”

     “Oh, listen to you. I’ve seen the way you wait on him hand and foot.”

     “Well, he’s my husband. I’m supposed to do that.”

     “Well, he’s my son. I’ve always done it.”

     “Listen at us. I wonder if he realizes how lucky he is.”

     “Probably not. But seriously, you’ll spoil Chris too, as well as whatever other little ones come along later. You won’t be able to help yourself. It’s a mom thing.”

     Linda reached up and brushed aside a strand of hair from Sara’s face.

     “Now then. Enough about cookies and spoiling and yucky old boys. What’s with the tears?”

     “You’ll think I’m nuts.”

     “I already think you’re nuts. So you have nothing to lose.”

     “I’ve been wanting to go home again.”

     Linda was aghast.

     “Home? To your old house in San Antonio?”

     “Yes.”

     Then, seeing the alarm on Linda’s face, Sara elaborated.

     “I don’t mean going there to stay. I mean, just going back to find out what became of my mother and Glen, my step-father.”

     Linda fell completely silent.

     When the silence became unbearable, Sara said, “Say something. Anything.”

     “Well, I guess I’m just… surprised. I mean, after the way they treated you, I thought you’d never want anything to do with them again.”

     “That’s just it. It’s… well, it’s kind of hard to explain. Before Chris was born, I seldom thought of them. And when I did think of them, I was angry. I mean, he raped me for years. Made me do horrible things to him. And she knew and looked the other way, for her own benefit. Because he was a ‘good provider’ and bought us nice things.

     “I thought I hated them. Yes. I do. I do hate them. But having Chris made me see things from a whole new perspective. I have him to think about now. I owe him some answers, or at least I will someday.

     “Someday he will come to me and ask me about his other grandparents. The ones he’ll surely know he had, besides you and Scott. And if he asked me that question today, what could I possibly tell him? I don’t even know if they’re alive or dead.”

     The tears came again.

     Linda held her.

     “I’ll tell you what, honey. Once the all clear is given and people can move about again, we’ll ask Scott if he can pull some strings. Maybe he can borrow one of San Antonio’s police cars just long enough to come up here and get you. The two of you can go to your old house and see if your mom and that… animal, are still there. I can stay here and help with Chris, or I can go along if you want me to.”

     “Would you do that for me?”

     “Honey, a mother would do anything for her child.”

     “Not all mothers.”

     “You’re right. Not all mothers. There’s no excuse for your mother not protecting you from that man. But I’ll have you know that I’ll move heaven and earth to protect you from further harm. That’s why I’ll go along, if you choose to go.”

     “Thank you. I wish you were my mom from the beginning.”

     “Me too. Have you thought about what you’ll say to them, if they’re still alive?”

     “I’ve thought about that a lot over the last few months. I go back and forth. Sometimes I’m furious and just want to scream at them and tell them I hate them. I want to tell them I want them both to rot in hell for all eternity.

     “Then, other times, I don’t want to see him at all. All I want to do is take my mother aside and ask her why. To ask if it was worth it, living in a nice house and having nice clothes to wear while she listened to what he was doing to me in the next room. I’d like to see if she has any remorse at all.”

     Linda held her.

     “Come on. I can hear Chris starting to stir on the monitor. Let’s go relieve Jordan on the security desk so he can take care of the baby. We’ll see if Scott’s up yet so we can talk to him about getting us to your old house.”