The Journal: Cracked Earth (6 page)

I collected my cheese and headed toward the
checkout, trying to stay calm., before I realized that
nobody
knew yet.
I had a rare opportunity to beat the rush. I went
back to the meat department and loaded up four turkeys, two hams,
six roasts, and a dozen good steaks, putting my few other purchases
in the seat area to make room. I went back to the wine aisle for
more wine, beer and rum. I saw a bottle of wine called
‘Earthquake’, how appropriate. I grabbed six. Then I nabbed two
twenty-five pound bags of flour. It was getting hard to push the
cart, so I headed toward the check-out, snagging two big bags of
cat food. When I was passing the paper goods aisle, I left my cart,
since it was too heavy to maneuver easily, and took two cases of
canning seals off the shelf, one regular and one wide mouth,
setting them on the bottom of the cart. Nobody buys canning
supplies this late in the season.

I couldn’t believe how calm everyone was.
Either they hadn’t heard yet, or the “someone else’s problem”
mentality kicked in. Here was a major disaster, though in another
state. It wouldn’t affect us, right? They really didn’t understand
our grid, or our transport system.

I picked Marie’s lane. I like Marie and we’ve
gotten to be friends. She never questions what I buy because she
knows I live so far out of town.

“Hey, girlfriend! Getting Thanksgiving dinner
early, huh?” she smiled and started ringing all of the meat up.

“You could say that. Can I get a couple of
the tote boxes? This is going to be heavier than I thought,” I
chuckled, trying hard to act natural. I got four and put two
turkeys each in two of the boxes and the rest of the meat in the
third, the bottles in the last, and used plastic bags for the rest.
I was surprised to see the total a bit under five hundred dollars,
more than I’m used to spending, yet I thought it would be higher. I
swiped my debit card, anticipating they wouldn’t be good in the
all-too-near future. Once boxed and bagged, I needed a second cart
and one of the baggers to help me.

I turned to leave, and made a decision.

“Marie,” I said quietly, “before you go home
tonight, stock up on pet food for your two dogs and the cats, and
get your other shopping done, too.” When she asked why, I said
“Something has happened. You will find out tonight on the news.
Just do your shopping tonight, okay?”

The parking lot looked like it should, but it
sure didn’t feel right. Maybe it was just me.

The young man helping me looked at the totes.
“That’s a lot of turkeys,” he said.

“Yeah, I have a big family reunion coming
up,” I said politely. Rude would be remembered, friendly would not,
and I don’t want to be remembered for these purchases when others
start getting hungry.

I loaded the rest of the groceries and headed
for the exit. Another split decision. I made a left instead of a
right. I had three more stops to make, and if all went well, I’d be
on the road home in less than an hour. The first stop was the bank,
where I withdrew a thousand dollars from my savings account. I’d
done that before, so no one even blinked. Next stop was the bulk
food place that has some things which no one else does, and in
large quantities. I went right to the back and got a half wheel
each of parmesan, asiago, cheddar and American cheeses, then two
twenty-five pound bags of Basmati rice, Jason’s favorite. I didn’t
need anything else from there so it was a quick check out.

The final stop was to top off the gas tank. I
was only a quarter-tank down, so that didn’t take any time at all
and I was back on the road. It only took forty minutes to get
through these three extra stops.

When I got onto County Road 695, the straight
stretch to home, I pulled over. My hands were shaking and I dropped
the phone twice. I sent out a multiple text, to Soozie, Suzy,
Clark, Jane and Pam. Those close friends and my sister would
understand the agreed upon code: “Alas, Babylon!” and I added: “New
Madrid, 7.8”

Then I called Jason. I asked him if he’d
heard what happened, then remembered that he doesn’t have a
television, and rarely listens to the radio. I said that I was on
my way home, and asked him to meet me at my house in forty
minutes.

When I arrived, we watched the news in
stunned silence and viewed the aerial pictures of the area. Such
devastation! There is actually a crack in the Earth. All this
within a week of the damage on the East Coast. How will our country
deal with this?

I’m still stunned that I was able to do that
last minute shopping without being caught up in a mob. All of the
meat is in coolers and the rest of the stuff can wait until
tomorrow before I put it away. Right now, I’m exhausted.

* * *

JOURNAL ENTRY: November 7

I slept surprisingly well last night with no
dreams that I can remember. I love the lazy mornings now, when I
can casually stay in bed and ease myself awake. Then I looked at
the clock, 7:30a.m., and realized it was Wednesday! I need to be
over on Eagle Beach to give John his weekly massage in 30 minutes.
Since it’s only a seven mile drive it doesn’t take long, but I
haven’t loaded up my table yet, and I needed to hustle!

* * *

John met me at the door of the house that he
shares with a dozen other miners. I could smell the aroma of the
breakfast that Steve had cooked and my stomach gurgled. I set up my
massage table and got ready to work. The sounds of anxious, almost
frantic, newscasters coming from the TV in the other room caught my
attention and I peeked around the corner. All the guys were staring
at the big-screen TV. None of them had gone to bed yet. Usually the
night shift at the mine is brutal and once home they eat and go to
bed. Not this time. The horrors of yesterday’s quake took on a
surreal feeling as the images were played over and over. There were
still no death count totals, however, it’s reported being “very
high”.

An hour later I slipped John’s payment into
my pocket and packed up my table. I really like this moment,
because John hugs me like he enjoys holding me. Neither of us gets
hugs and they feel so very good. He gave me an extra-long one today
so I asked him if he was okay.

“Quakes always make us really nervous,” he
said in his charming North Carolina drawl. “None of the guys want
to go down into the mine right now, yet the bosses are pushing us
pretty hard to finish the portal by December.” He paused. “We had a
rock slide last night. Sammy had his hand on a railing and got two
of his fingers crushed. It’s the first accident this mine has had
and the project heads are not happy about it. I just wanted to
punch someone. Fingers are nothing. Nothing!! I’ve brought guys
back out in body bags! Crushed fingers are nothing! Sean is talking
about quitting, so is Adam. Liam already did.”

I didn’t know what to say, although could
tell that he was done venting. I told him he could call me anytime
to talk, gave him another long hug and said that I’d see him next
week. My mind was reeling over what he had said, over the
earthquake and over the election results. I felt numb.

* * *

I left Eagle Beach and went to Jason’s over
on the Dam Road. Last night I had made a list of supplies that I
thought they could use, and needed to check with them first. Amanda
was still sleeping, but Jason was up, having gotten Jacob off to
school. I almost offered to do the shopping for them, but Amanda
loves to shop, and would have been royally pissed if I’d left her
out of it. I went over the list with Jason.

“I understand, Mom, but I can’t afford all of
this. We recently bought Jacob all new clothes for school. He’s
growing so fast.” This I understood, he’s already eight, and
because he’s growing, the extra clothes in larger sizes would be
needed regardless. Not to mention all the food supplies I had
listed.

I handed him $500 in cash, then reached in my
pocket and gave him what I’d just earned. “I doubt they’ll be
taking checks or debit cards before long.” He looked at me with
concern. “I think this is that important, Jason. You and Amanda
have to go together. It might be bad in the stores, or soon will
be, and you have to be there to protect her. Two of you will be
less of a target. Call the school and have them drop Jacob off at
my house if you start to run late. Shop fast and shop smart. Don’t
forget to fill your gas tank. In fact, do that first!”

Back at home, I plugged in the extra
refrigerator in the barn and repacked the meat. The turkeys were
still well-frozen, so they went into the lower part, leaving me
plenty of room to freeze the rest of the meats. The steaks I bagged
individually and vacuumed sealed. The roasts I cut in half and then
vacuum sealed. The hams were my quandary, so I stuck them in the
fridge with the frozen turkeys. They would hold for quite a while
and may become a Christmas treat. With it bouncing between thirty
and thirty-five degrees, nothing was going to thaw anytime
soon.

The cheeses were good in the cold pantry with
the low temperatures. I’ve had hard cheese last a very long time
that way, so I’m not concerned. The American cheese would have to
be used within a few months. Thankfully, Jacob loves grilled
cheese. Once opened, or cut into, I would wrap the cheese in
vinegar-soaked cheesecloth and that should hold it even longer.

I found room for the paper goods in the cat
pantry, and then put the flour in the metal trash can in the cold
pantry. The wine went on the wonderful oak rack that Jason built
for me years ago.

It was 5:15 P.M. Central time, right in the
heart of rush hour, when the second quake hit. It measured 8.2 on
the Richter scale.

* * *

JOURNAL ENTRY: November 8

The first quake was downgraded to a 7.6 with
the epicenter slightly north of Memphis. It lasted four minutes.
All along the Mississippi River bridges have collapsed or are
severely damaged. Aerial views show a crack in the Earth.

It’s mind boggling, but at least the levees
are holding. The second quake remains at an 8.2 and centered in
what was Hannibal, Missouri. Hannibal is gone, leveled. The
tectonic plate was shoved out of place during the seven minutes of
shaking, and now the Mississippi at this juncture is spilling back
into itself, forming a new lake. The death toll is staggering,
thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands, with thousands more missing
and even more thousands injured.

There is no way to get an actual count right
now because the devastation is too great. There are fires and gas
explosions everywhere, hampering any rescue efforts, which are
minimal. Roads are filled with debris from buildings and crushed
cars. Asphalt and concrete have buckled. Emergency vehicles can’t
get anywhere. Gas stations are burning out of control from ruptured
fuel tanks and natural gas lines have ignited everywhere. FEMA is
overwhelmed. They were completely tied up on the East Coast with
the hurricane victims, and now this. They can’t even do anything
since there has been no call from either governor requesting
help.

Missing Missouri Governor Sarah Astor was
home with her family in Hannibal. Tennessee Governor Johnny Perkins
is also missing. Both governments are in chaos. All shipping
traffic on the Mississippi has been halted. Some of the barges were
shoved into the river banks, while others that were not so lucky,
were sunk. With virtually all the bridges compromised in one way or
another, the vehicle traffic is non-existent. It’s the same way for
any east-west trains. The only route is through northern Minnesota
and it’s blocked by the first blizzard of the season.

Reports just came in that there were two 4.5
tremors in Utah within the last twelve hours, and a 6.7 in
Yellowstone. They had to evacuate and close the park because the
ground is so hot that it was melting the soles on shoes. Another
6.3 Richter scale earthquake occurred off the coast of British
Columbia.

What is happening???

* * *

That’s it, no more runs to town.

I dressed in my usual slacks, long sleeved
shirt and vest. The vest is important to hide my shoulder holster.
Ever since the first quake, I’ve been wearing it even around the
house.

County Road 695 into town was absent any
traffic, though that’s not unusual. I wanted to make this a fast
trip so light traffic was a bonus. I pulled into the mall parking
lot. My goal was to get to the hardware store in the strip-mall
section next to the grocery store. I grabbed one of the cloth
shopping bags from the back seat and headed in. The selection of
batteries was poor, others had obviously thought about them too.
Damn! I could kick myself for forgetting I needed batteries! I
managed to obtain three packs of D cell and two of C. They were not
enough since they were only double packs.

When I neared the check out, I saw the
shotgun leaning behind the counter. The young man, maybe thirty
years old, saw me glance at it.

“Getting that bad already?” I asked, putting
the batteries on the counter.

“Yes,” he replied tensely. “It’s cash only
and I don’t make change.” That surprised me. I handed him enough
bills and left.

Next door at Mack’s, I got a bonus. Who looks
for batteries in the shampoo aisle? I found four more packs of D,
C, AA and AAA. Since there were lots of nine volt, I took two, in
spite of the fact that, offhand, I can’t think of anything I have
that uses nine volt. Apparently nobody else does either.

Out of curiosity, I wandered through the
store a bit. It’s only been three days, but the beer, wine and
liquor section was stripped clean. The rest of the shelves were
near bare. In the cereal aisle two women were arguing over a
canister of oatmeal. I watched in silence as they struggled over
the box. The box inevitably broke, spilling its confetti-like
contents, joining the Fruit Loops and Cocoa Puffs already littering
the floor. One woman glared at the other and stomped off, cereal
audibly crunching underfoot while the other stood there staring at
the floor and cried. I slipped away before either knew that I had
seen their petty quarrel. In the produce section, it was worse.
Things were mixed in together, rotten or dumped on the floor that
was already sticky with crushed tomatoes and mashed bananas. The
sickly sweet stench of unidentifiable fermenting fruit was
overwhelming. I did not want to be there.